#i feel very alone and like i need to and must handle everything on my own but i feel like i'm about to break doing that

[lesbiansanemi]

I'm so tired

[cinnasweetss]

Out Of Bounds (M) - sim jaeyun

PAIRINGS: jake x female reader, afab reader

SYNOPSIS: in which jake is your little brothers best friend that knows absolutely no boundaries when it comes to you.

GENRE: smut, pwp.

CONTENT: jake is super whiny, one-sided pining, reader is slightly older, overuse of the word ‘noona’, jake def has a thing for older women, mentions of drinking, masturbation (m), mentions non consensual groping, mentions of verbal threats.

jake is everything but a pleasure to be around. endless flirting, groping, threats aimed at your boyfriend, and other unspeakable things. all done where no one can hear you beg him to just leave you alone, just this once. or hear him grumble about how much he likes you, and won’t stop.

jake is like your brother too, just a little bit more annoying. although his actions can be a bit much, you know he’s a kind hearted boy deep down with pure intentions. even if his actions can be a bit much. it’s nothing you can’t handle.

your never bring this up to your brother either. never would you deny him of a friend just because he has a very insatiable desire for you. boys will be boys! your friends say their siblings friends develop little crushes on them too. but jake’s feelings and wants for you are not little.

so, it’s no surprise that he calls you late at night after a night of drinking with your younger brother. overcome by the feeling of needing to hear his best friends older sister. just to settle him. that’s it.

your phone rings next to your pillow, pulling you from your slumber. it takes a minute for you to roll over, sighing when you pick up your phone and see ‘sim jake’ written across the screen.

“hmm? what is it?”

you know he’s been drinking. that’s why you don’t hesitate to answer. “Just…thinking about my noona.” his noona. you’re always referred to that way. his voice is slow and slurred, hinting at just how much he’s drank by now. “are you drunk?”

you have to say you're flattered. extremely. to be on his mind even when he’s drunk and has likely been around plenty of drunk women says a lot. “a lil- little bit..." you hear an exhale come through the speaker, and another noise follow. "jake, how much did you drink? do you need me to come get you?" you’re sitting up out of your bed, ready to throw on clothes and leave just incase he does need you. there’s a short pause before you hear his voice again.

“Can you- fuck... can you say my name again?" he sounds out of breath, and you can faintly hear some very suspicious sounds coming from the other end. those words mark a new boundary that’s been broken. adding to the multitude of broken boundaries. "what are you doing?" his tone sounded very suggestive, and it makes you stop, pressing your phone closer to your ear. "Thinkin' about you, noona..." he responds, and this time, he moans. "Jake..." you don’t mean to feed into him. not all all. you're just utterly shocked and at a loss for words. but most of all, worried about this would affect your relationship with him. "oh, fuck.” he's shameless in the way he moans, loud and whiny, begging you to say more. "tell me, noona..." he starts, moaning directly into your ear... "y-your panties...what color are they?"

“they’re…red..”

"ahhh, shit." you can hear him struggle with himself like he's imagining you in red panties , likely doing something lewd. "today...in the kitchen. did you like it? when I touched you?" ‘touched’ is too sweet of a word to describe what he did to you. groped, manhandled, fondled, is better. overpowering you when you tried to push his hands away from your chest, beg him to stop before your brother sees. tell him he must learn how to control himself.

“you cant...touch me like that...it isn’t right.” those are words you’ve said to him a million times before. words that go through one ear and out the other without a second thought. "cant help it. fuck, fuck, i'm so close! keep talking, please noona!" you can hear him increase speed in whatever he's doing, which, sounds exactly like he's jerking off.

"you're so pretty, too pretty, noona..." he rambles on in his fit of pleasure. telling you how much he wants to kiss you, and fuck you between very loud moans. "wish I could cum in you instead...agh! I gotta have you...gotta make you mine." his words bring heat to your cheeks despite the vulgarity of it all. "Jake..." you start, the other seemingly seconds apart from coming undone. "yes? yes, yes, noona!" he pants over the phone, whining and struggling to hold himself back from cumming before you get to respond. "maybe one day." those words from you are all it takes, a "fuck i'm gonna cum! i'm cumming! fuck!" being yelled into the speaker as he releases every pent up emotion he has for you in the form of one intense orgasm.

sim jaeyun, is way Out Of Bounds.

[taylormarieee]

~A hunter's first love~

A dean winchester drabble

Summary: You were dean's first love, yeah I know it's hard to believe with every girl he's been with but you... you were different from the rest, here's you guy's story...

Word Count: 2.8k

Pairing: dean winchester x hunter!reader

Warnings: kissing, mentions of death, mentions of blood, typical supernatural stuff, dean confessing, angst, a argument, dean being a bit of a jerk, a lil actual smut, piv sex, dean himself, trauma dumping, also reader isn't a hunter in the beginning but closer to the end she is.

A/N: I've been meaning to post this one for awhile but it's just been an idea in the back of my head. I NEED to write for dean more, and I swear I will, my word is my bond guys even tho sometimes i don't commit, ntm on me tho, love y'all and enjoy!

You were dean's very first love. Yea he had that chick in highschool but there were always chicks digging him in high school.

didn't mean he loved them. dean never did meeting parents and saying I love you. he was a cold kid that broke everything.

distanced himself from the people who needed him most. the exceptions were sammy and you.

something about you was special, something about you made dean's heart ache. it made him feel things that he usually would never feel.

he met you when sammy had went off to college to do his own thing. he was proud of sammy but he felt alone. yes of course he had his dad but there were nights where dad would always be gone and dean was left to handle himself.

but that was before you. during you, when he met you in the bar for the very first time, you looked like you were having a hellish day.

"bad day?" he asks as he slides into the barstool, drink in hand. you chuckle and look at him. your eyes widen a bit at how attractive he is.

"y-yea, s-something like that." you stutter as you take another sip of your brandy. after that you both kinda just hit it off.

laughing and having deep genuine conversations. he told you his name and you told him yours. he even offered you a ride back home to which you gladly accepted.

"thank you for the ride dean, I really appreciate it." you thank him and then get ready to walk up the stairs to your apartment but you pause.

"would you like to come inside? I just feel bad for making you take me home and then not offering you anything to sober you up a little. just come inside, please?" you ask.

he smiles and nods. "yea yea sure, i'd love to come inside." he says with a smirk on his face when he stands next to you.

"must you ruin the moment?" you hit him playfully as you chuckle.

"hell yea!" he exclaims with a chuckle as well. you unlock the door to your apartment and step inside. it's not the best but it's enough for you and it was simple and modern and you loved it.

dean seemed to have loved it too, to him though, it was very old-schooled. very 90's. you had these cute posters and paintings on walls. little records piled up on the coffee table.

it was adorable. it was very you. you had an electric guitar on a stand next to your tv in the living room and you had all your favorite rock band cd's splayed everywhere on the couch.

"just gimme a sec, I didn't exactly expect company." you say shyly.

"oh no, your totally fine. I dig it. AC/DC? I love it." he says pointing at the band poster framed up on your wall.

"oh that's old, my dad gave it to me, I basically grew up listening to many rock bands. guns n roses, AC/DC, Metallica, yk the goodies." you smile up at dean.

"that poster was actually signed by the entire band when my dad got a backstage pass. He was so happy til the day he died." you say staring at the poster with a smile on your face.

"guessing he got the best day mug when you were a kid huh?" he says with a smile.

you laugh and shake your head. "yea actually, I did get him one for his birthday one year, he had the proudest smile ever when he saw Axl Rose's signature on it." you smile.

"wow, you were the best daughter." he exclaims.

"I mean I tried to be. my mom split when I was eight and that took a huge chunk outta my dad's heart. so I slowly had to rebuild it back again. I missed seeing him happy. It was just me n him, no point in trying to make life harder than it already was." you explain.

"Yea I get that. your better than me. see when I was little me, my mom, my dad? we were the happiest family. and then when my baby brother was born, I was so happy! but uhm a few months after he was born my uh my mom died. then it was just me my dad and sammy." he explains.

"that was hard for all of us. even harder for sammy considering he never even got to talk to his mother. my dad was hard on me and sammy growing up. I of course was always the lash out kid, constantly angry, never liking how he acted or did stuff. then of course that anger when out to sam because I couldn't yell at my dad, I was 10." he continues.

you hum to let him know your still listening and you grab him some water and prop it on the coffee table in front of you two.

"thanks. but yea, sammy never really understood why we always moved, never stayed in one place too long until he got tired of it. tired of that lifestyle. now he's in college and he's thriving, my dad on the other hand, he's avoiding me any chance he gets but hey, I would avoid me too if I was him. I break everything I touch." he finishes, taking a long gulp of his water.

you both sit in silence for a second and dean looks at you, hoping you say something other than "get out of my house."

"oh dean, I'm so sorry. no child should ever have to go through that. and I can assure you dean, you don't break everything you touch, I'm here and see! I'm not broken, i'm standing ten toes behind you." you says with a smile.

"I hunt monsters for a living with my dad. and we kill them so they can't ahrm people anymore." he blurted out randomly. he wanted to push you away, because he was falling in love with you too quickly. he wanted you to see him as scary.

your eyes widen. you pause. your hand is still on his arm and his thigh. you blink once, then twice. your jaw opens to say something but closes again.

"speak now, scream now, curse me out or forever hold your peace and i'll leave." he says.

you immediately spoke not wanting him to leave. "don't leave. I'm just a little shocked is all. do you and your dad really do that? does your brother know?" you ask.

"Why do you think he went off to college, to live a normal life like the rest of you." dean says.

"wow. uhm that's a lot to take in. thank you for telling me. there are parts of me that don't believe you, but i'm going to trust my heart. I believe you dean. you're a hero."

"I'm not a hero, i'm a monster." he says.

"you save people dean, how is that you being a monster." you counter.

"because it's almost like i enjoy it, the thrill."

"ok but heros i'm sure enjoy the thrill as well."

"That's not the same thing sweetheart I-"

"Why can't you just accept that your not a monster."

"because I lived with this my whole life ok? I am a monster."

"ok, but you help people, how do monsters do that? how is that YOU being a monster?"

"Because I just am!" he shouts at you. you gasp and scoot away from him.

"oh, i'm sorry. I won't bring it up."

"for fuck's sake, I'm sorry sweetheart. I-I didn't mean to shout at you, i'm sorry. c'mere." he says.

you scoot back to him and he wraps your body in a hug.

"what are you so scared of dean? If your brother can live a normal life, why can't you? why do you think you don't deserve a happy ending?" you ask.

you look up at him with puppy dog eyes and he folds immediately. he kisses the top of your head and smiles down at you.

"you really think I'm a good person? you truly believe I could have a happy ending?'" he asks.

"If I didn't think so, would I have bickered with you about it like a toddler?" you ask with a chuckle.

he laughs.

"I guess not."

you both stare at each other for a good 2 minutes before you look down at his lips. he looks at you and stares at your lips as well.

you lean up closer to his face, your noses touching. he closes his eyes, waiting for it to happen. he of course wasn't prepared for his mind's decision to pull away.

"I have to go sweetheart. I'm sorry." he says as he pulls away from you. he can't bare to look at you as he stands up from the couch but he does it anyway and his heart sinks.

your pouting. god why must you look so good when you pout. "oh, please stay dean, I don't want to be alone. and I don't think you do either." you say standing up and grabbing his hand.

"just spend the night, and then in the morning you can leave, just don't leave without saying goodbye." you say pointing a finger at him.

"ok sweetheart, I won't." he says with a smile. "good." you respond with a smile as well.

"now, I have one more gift for you." you say with a smirk on your face.

"Oh really, what is it? it better be pie." he says with a chuckle. you roll your eyes playfully as you pull him towards you bedroom.

"i mean it'll be some kind of pie if you want it to be? but it's also much better than pie." you say seductively.

"mhmmm" he groans, "I like the sound of where this is going.

he runs his hands down your waist as you drag him towards you bed. you shrug off his jacket and he grabs your ass once his jacket is on the floor and goes straight for your jeans buttons.

"please kiss me already dean, I need you." you beg.

his lips are smashed on to yours immediately after your request. guess dean couldn't wait any longer either.

you tug at his shirt and he pulls it off. you take your shirt off as well and that's when dean pushes you on to the bed. you grab at his road shoulders and scratch at his back.

he nips at your neck leaving little sweet kisses after. you were so having hickeys afterwards.

he smashes his lips against yours again and you bite his lip. he groans at the feeling and you release his lip but he can taste the blood on his lip.

he licks his lips and looks at you. "you tryin to devour me huh?" he asks with a smirk.

"Maybe?" you ask with mimicking smirk on your face. he kisses you again and you moan in his mouth. god he lives for your noises.

"do that again." he demands. he kisses down your neck looking for that spot that makes you reel. you moan in his ear again and he physically fights the urge not to shove his fingers in you ight now.

his cock painfully aching in his boxers. you both roll around and moan in each others ears. you tug on his hair and he tugs on yours.

he inhales your scent and he feels like he's on cloud 9.

you were amazing. even more amazing when he first entered inside you. god you were so fucking tight. so delicious. so enticing.

you were pulling him in and he was hitting all the right spots to make you scream his name like a mantra, like a prayer.

you loved the feeling of his fat cock inside you. it made you feel euphoric. no one has ever made you feel this way, dean hit every spot. he made you cry and scream and feel so good.

you needed him. you desired every bit of him. he's the man you daydream about, the one you read tumblr fics about.

you feel your orgasm approaching and dean feels his but he solely his focused on making you feel good. sadly that doesn't work because he's struggling to not cum inside you.

"it's ngh- ok dean. please cum inside me, I want it so bad. please." you beg him and he loses it. he kisses you one last time before he releases inside you, still thrusting and over stimulating himself just to make you feel good.

you eventually cum around his cock as well, feeling so good. you arch into him and tug on his hair really hard he groans. he moans into your ear as he lets out the last spurts of his cum into your stoamch.

he rearranged your guts like no other before and you loved how it made you feel dean winchester makes you feel alive. he makes you feel like yourself.

dean pulls out of you and lays right behind you. you cuddle into him throwing your leg over his to tangle up in his warmth.

he smiles to himself and you kiss him again as you both fall asleep. dean couldn't stop thinking about you. and you couldn't stop thinking about him.

he's your saviour. your hero. your perfect man. your first love.

your his daydream. his fantasy. his perfect girl. his first love.

It's been a year now and you and dean are thriving. he calls you every day and every night when he's on a hunt.

you even got to meet his brother. you comforted him when his dad died and you even let them stay at your place whenever they were in town.

two years go by and you and dean are on a little break. he said that he didn't feel like he could give you what you wanted and asked if he could take a break from the relationship to give him some time to think.

you didn't know he slept with an old fling and it broke your heart when sam told you.

you went on hunting alone. you met bobby on a hunt and he treated you well. he made sure you were safe.

four years go by and you meet dean again, you never blocked him and he called from time to time. sometimes you'd answer other times, you'd not even give him the time of day.

you looked at dean and realized he hasn't aged a day, if anything he looked more mature, he looked just as good as the last time you saw him.

his voice deeper and still demanding. you hug him and he tells you how much he's missed you. you missed him just as much.

he told you he was sorry and you forgave him. you forgave him a long time ago. he offered to try again and you agreed.

the three of you went hunting together like a family and it was fun. but one night you decided to play hero.

"dean, I once told you you deserved a happy ending, that you weren't a monster." you say quickly while panting.

"yea babe, but why? why are you saying this?" he asked his glossy eyes staring back at you.

"you know I love you right?" you tell him.

"I love you too sweetheart, now tell me what's wrong?!" he shouts.

you hear the footsteps of the vampire and you look at sam and dean.

"babe, it's my turn to be a hero ok? you go on without me. you live your life and you find your happy ending. I love you both so much." you say holding the both of their hands.

"Now run." you say.

you shoot at the vampire and it rushes towards you choking you. you try to fight it off but it stabs you in the stomach and you scream out.

Sam runs to rescue you and dean screams for you. the vampire throws you off to the side and bloods seeping out of your mouth and wound. dean runs to your limp body on the floor and he cradles you in his arms.

sam quickly runs back over the vampires body on the ground with a wooden stake in it's heart and it's head cut off.

you try to speak but dean shushes you.

"no no baby don't speak i'm gonna get you help ok, y-your- fuck your gonna live ok. SON OF A BITCH! baby please don't die on me, I love you please please please." he cries.

"i-i love you too, my sweet hero." your last words before your eyes shut and your no longer moving.

he says your name and sam checks for a pulse. he looks at dean and shakes his head no. dean shakes you and screams your name some more but no response.

he sits there and cries with sam by his side crying as well.

you were dean's daydream. his fantasy. his perfect girl. his first love and the last one he ever loved. the one he couldn't save.

Taglist: @dollyfl1rt @itzdarling @sammyluvr @liliesdiary @ribbonprincess @bellahadidnt16 @iilovefictionalpeople @aerangi @keiva1000 @madafton @niktwazny303 @prettyluhdavis @kqmbr1a @nuemanfilms + anyone else who wants to join

[hanilessa]

aaaaa can you do your work 'your attention' but with xiao, albedo, kazuha and wanderer? i liked it so much i wish they had a version of it 🥲

` Author’s notes: aww hello, dear anon!! thank you very much for your request! i'm very glad you like this idea. i hope you enjoy it!! ♡

part one! part three! likes, replies and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3 my inbox is open for your requests! feel free to text me if you want to request headcanons or drabble. :3

» :、♡  YOUR ATTENTION

` Summary: You pay a lot of attention to your newborn child, and your husband has only to watch it jealousy. He lacks your attention.

` Includes: Xiao, Albedo, Kazuha, Wanderer x fem!reader

` Genre: fluff, romance, hints of jealousy

XIAO

When your daughter was born, Xiao was a little scared. He isn't accustomed to communicating with people, and even with you, mostly at the beginning of your acquaintance, he preferred to be silent, listening to your voice when you talked to him.

But his child is different. This is his blood and flesh. This is your blood and flesh. And he's obliged to give his child as much love as he gives you.

But he must tirelessly continue the work of the exorcism, so basically you take care of the child.

He wants to help you, he really wants to, but his debt of karma has settled in his soul. But you never reproached him for it, and he will always be grateful to you.

You love to sit by the window and look out the window with some longing, waiting for the return of your lover. Your daughter twitches her nose in a funny way while you hold her in your arms.

You smile happily as you cradle the baby in your arms.

And when Xiao, frozen on the balcony railing, sees you and his child in your arms, he thinks he just doesn't deserve it.

You're so gentle, beautiful, you treat a small child in your hands so reverently, and this makes his heart tremble with love and desire to be in your arms too.

When Xiao really wants something from you, he will never say it directly. You have long been accustomed to the fact that basically an adeptus will always wait for the first step from you.

This applies to literally everything. Hugs, kisses, tender words. Understand him, it's just hard for him to be open, but he really tries, so please support Xiao in his timid actions.

Greedy for your touch, he looks with some jealousy at your daughter in your arms, also wanting to receive your gentle touches and words of love.

When you lay your daughter in her cradle, you call your husband closer to you, and the adeptus doesn't dare to resist you, because he knows that he will do anything for you at your one word.

He's always greedy for your attention and kisses, because you're his salvation. You will always be a light in his dark realm, illuminating his path forward with your radiance.

You pull Xiao closer to you, and his tense body gradually relaxes, feeling your familiar cuddle. He squeezes your waist with his strong hands, finally feeling you next to him.

You whisper into his hair, "Rest, my dear. And I will protect your dream."

ALBEDO

Before your son was born, you and Albedo always did experiments together.

You were his assistant and right hand, you always helped him when he needed your help.

When your child was born, you left your job because you had to take care of your son. He was very active and you always needed to keep your attention on him.

At first Albedo didn't attach much importance to your absence, because, for example, he always worked alone at Dragonspine, not allowing you to accompany him, because he was afraid that you might get sick.

And for the most part, he did his job well, even when he worked alone, but something still wasn't right.

The constant feeling of you next to him seemed to have ingrained under his skin, and when you were next to him during the moments of his work, he felt more confident than ever in his experiments.

Because when you were by his side, he knew he could handle anything.

But now all your attention is riveted to your son, and this slight sediment of jealousy remains in his chest.

Looking at you and his son, Albedo clearly feels that he has missed your attention madly.

Therefore when your baby falls asleep, Albedo immediately pulls you into his arms, hearing you exhale excitedly.

Albedo is always restrained and calm, and such a manifestation of his emotions and desires isn't entirely characteristic of him, so you're very surprised when he slightly unexpectedly and rudely presses you closer to him.

He seeks your attention, preventing you from focusing on anything other than him alone. Therefore until he's satisfied with your affection and love, he won't allow you to go anywhere.

You can only shake your head as you watch the great alchemist turn into a small child when he lacks your attention.

"Please be my assistant for the next experiment. I want you to witness my success." He whispers into your neck and you pull his head closer to you, enjoying your husband's presence.

"I promise."

KAZUHA

When your son was born, Kazuha wrote the poem for him. And the next poem he wrote for you, where he said that for him there is nothing more valuable than you in the whole world.

He thanked you for the fact that your child was born, and asked your forgiveness for not being able to be with you every day.

His soul is always dreaming and longing for travel, and you know it. You never reproached Kazuha for this, humbly waiting for him to return to his native land.

And as captain Beidou's ship returned to Inazuma after a long voyage, Kazuha's soul sings with the realization that he will soon be able to be with you and your son again.

At the moment when he sees you holding your little baby in your arms, his heart flutters, and he hurries to give you the most tender and long-awaited hugs.

But Kazuha stops halfway to you, because you ask him to wait a little while you put your child in his bed.

The baby was crying in your arms as you tried to soothe him by humming a sweet melody that seemed to your husband the most beautiful sound he had ever heard.

The thought that he could now see you right in front of him after a long separation without being able to hug you tore his heart apart.

But you have always been adamant when it comes to your child, so Kazuha meekly with a bit of jealousy in his red eyes waited for you to put your son in his cradle.

Words of love, beautiful songs burst out of him like birds from a golden cage when you again find yourself in his arms and bestow your attention on him.

Kazuha's love language is words. He can compose for you any poem, any novel about his boundless love for you.

And be sure that his poem about love for you will be passed from mouth to mouth in the breath of a light breeze, which is an integral part of his being.

Therefore continue to give him affection and love.

"Your attention is dearest to me, I beg you, keep looking at me with your beautiful eyes."

WANDERER

It's difficult to call Wanderer a gentle person after how much pain and suffering he has endured, but when you have a child, his puppet heart trembles with sincere joy.

He doesn't believe that someone as rotten on the inside as he is, can give rise to a new life – as pure and innocent as your daughter.

You will never get tired of repeating to Wanderer that even though his past is clouded by bad memories, his future will always be bright, sunny and calm.

Because you and your daughter will always be by his side.

Let him never show it, Scaramouche will always be grateful to you for your words. You and your daughter are the meaning of his life and something without which he could never exist in this world.

But when it comes to your attention, he doesn't want to cede it to anyone. Even to his child.

He looks at the little baby with narrowed eyes as she tries to reach out to you two with her little hands in an attempt to get your hugs.

But the Wanderer tactfully stops her attempts in the bud, because now he's the one who will receive all your tenderness and love.

You just smile, holding out your hand to the little baby, watching your husband's brows furrow as the child giggles happily.

"You promised me that today your attention will be focused only on me…" Scaramouche grumbles in annoyance, pouting his lips.

He's so funny when he furrows his brows. A blush covers his cheeks as he realizes you've noticed his little weakness. Yes, he needs you and your hugs, so please give him your attention.

You chuckle at how cute and irritable Wanderer becomes when your attention is on someone or something else.

"Your daughter wants my attention too. Why don't you share it with her?" You smile slyly.

He just snorts and pulls you tighter against his chest, forcing you to let go of your daughter's hand. After that light sweet kisses begin to cover your neck.

"I won't even think about it."

[cinnamonest]

I do want to also continue my primary momcon storyline at one point, but with the recent delinquent/bully Ajax posts I am now contemplating modern small town au delinquent Ajax but instead of student/classmate it's momcon…

Poor single mom who is already judged and ostracized by the small town community for being a single mom who had her baby way too young, unmarried, and with a deadbeat at that, made so much worse by the fact that your precious baby boy is a notorious problem child, treated as a menace and threat to the entire town. Hearing people mutter about how that's what happens when some girl that can't keep her legs shut has a kid with no father, how the whole household is messed up in the head, how his lack of inhibition must be hereditary.

Everyone knows him, and by extension, everyone knows you. Who you are, what your marital status is, the fact that you’re the mother of the town menace. You were hoping to live quietly, avoiding negative judgement as much as possible, but unfortunately, that proves not doable when your son is constantly drawing attention to himself in the worst of ways.

You’re always profusely apologizing whenever you get called to the school, bowing your head and squeezing your eyes shut as you promise for the umpteenth time that you'll talk with him and that it won't happen again, unable to look the faculty in the eye, knowing from experience how much their disdainful, judgmental glares hurt. Knowing what they're thinking in their heads even if they don't say it out loud, what they probably say to each other once you leave. How it's your fault, how you have no control over your child.

Or that one line that still hurts you to think about, that time you overheard two other moms with kids on the playground mutter about how they do this or that with their children, or how they would never have a kid without a present father — or else they turn out like that kid…

You were told that once before to your face, back when he was little — that you needed to hurry up and find a step father for him, or else he'll become a bad kid — because he's a boy and everyone knows boys don't obey their mothers the way they do fathers, you know? Sure they love them and all, but once he gets older he's going to start seeing you as small and weak, socialized by other boys and culture into feeling superior to you, and everyone knows that turns into blatant disregard for your authority.

But it's because of him that you can't — you tried, but he always drove away every man you dated, always reacted very badly whenever you got a new boyfriend, being mean and hitting and kicking and setting up cruel pranks and making the man miserable until he told you he couldn't do it anymore and left you alone again. Eventually it gets to be too much for you to handle, and you resign yourself to give up for now, maybe try again when he’s older and mature enough to have a serious discussion on the matter.

Or maybe wait until he’s grown and moved out — if that ever happens, seeing as when you bring up the future, he insists that he’ll stay here and take care of you, says I could never go off somewhere and leave you here by yourself, Mama.

Regardless, you do try and work with him, get him to behave better, but you just can’t. It’s incredibly frustrating. Everything you say goes in one ear, out the other (maybe those people had a point when they said he wouldn't respect your authority). You fuss at him as you wrap the little band-aids all over each of his fingers where they’re scraped up from the fight of the day, but he just smiles, seems to not really be paying any attention, just happy to have your attention and see you worrying over him.

He always dismisses you with ease, promising you he’ll do better and won’t beat anyone up again, but you can very easily tell he doesn’t really mean it at all. And his actions follow suit — you often get a phone call from the school the very next day.

He doesn't really have friends anyway, your attempts to get him to socialize with other kids always ended up leading to fights instead. But that's okay, he doesn't need friends, he says, he has his Mama.

You do feel like it's your fault. Why did he become so violent? Surely you did something wrong. But at the same time, you don't feel like you did anything bad to him, because if nothing else, Ajax is ferociously defensive of you.

You lose count of how many times, after being called in about yet another fight, your son proudly tells you he was defending your honor — yes, he may have cracked that boy's skull open against the brick wall of the building, but he only did it because that bastard had the nerve to call his Mama a whore, so he deserved to have his face disfigured like that. Yes, he may have put three kids in the hospital, but only because they were doing the thing teen boys do where they joke about fucking someone's mom, and he couldn't stand for that, he had to teach them a lesson so they think twice before doing that again. And it's true that one time he did stab someone, he'll confess to that, but it was because that guy spread rumors that his Mama was hooking to make money, and he couldn't stand for that.

This becomes a very well-known thing with him, which creates a bit of a conundrum — on one hand, most people learn to shut up about you if there's even a possibility he's within earshot. However, some of the other rowdy, bully-type boys know that talking about Mama is like his berserk-button, a guaranteed way to get a reaction out of him, so they go out of their way to set him off, believing they can just run away before he can get to them. Usually they stop once they get proven wrong about being able to run and get beaten up badly enough, but there's always some kid dumb enough to try, thus the violence is endless.

Not to mention those cases are worse. Normal fights get a visit to the nurse, but if the motive involves you, he's far more violent. The thankfully few, but nonetheless increasing number of times you had to pick him up from jail were almost all related to those fights in particular, that got so out of hand they warranted a teacher or bystander calling for help. Not to mention he's not at all hesitant to hunt offenders down in town to hurt them, away from the school authorities (who are always keeping an eye on him), so he'll get more punches in before a townsperson notices and calls for help.

And much like the school faculty, the law enforcement always gives you these awful, hurtful looks of disdain, a condescending tone in their voices when they ask if you're here to get your kid again and sighing when you nod your head. A few have the nerve to tell you that you really need to do something or else it's only a matter of time before he does something you can't just bail him out of.

And he's always so cheerful when you do come get him. A bit sheepish, apologizes for the inconvenience of you having to drive out here to come get him (not for the act that got him put there in the first place), but otherwise very smiley and touchy and grateful.

Very, very touchy. He's always been like that. He was a cuddly kid, always lifting his arms up in a gesture to be picked up, always clinging to your sleeves. He never went through that phase most boys go through, where they think they're too old to be spending time with their Mom or get embarrassed by affection and push her away or distance themselves from her. You were always grateful for that, it was heartwarming that he always seemed to be proud of you and happy to be seen with you.

But he does get very, very touchy. Always wrapping his arms around you. When you come to school events, visiting distant relatives (who all dislike him, but stopped bringing it up when you got defensive), even when you go grocery shopping (he always comes along, insistent on helping you), he's always coming up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his arms looped around you from behind. And sure, he's never stopped kissing you on the mouth and not your forehead or something, but that's normal for some families, right? And it's only for a second, so it's not weird.

People do notice. You see the furrowed eyebrows and wrinkles noses and perplexed expressions, people leaning over to whisper something in another’s ear.

But at the same time, how could you ever bring something like that up? How could you possibly be mad at him for showing you affection? It's not as if you don't like it, it's just somewhat inappropriate in public… but it would surely hurt his feelings if you told him not to, so you say nothing.

You’re so, so grateful for him. He’s always there for you, always so loving, and has never even complained about having to go without a lot of things other people have.

And because he sees you struggling so much financially, by the time he’s a teenager he gets that itch where he feels like he has to prove himself, because how can he just sit back and let his Mama provide for everything, when he’s technically The Man of the household?

So soon enough he’s telling you — rather, insisting, no matter what you say — that he wants to help you pay for expenses.

It’s not consistently timed, but every now and then, he sometimes comes home to pull wads of cash out of his pockets, handed over to you with a sweet smile… and where did he get that money? Don’t worry about it, is all he’ll willingly say.

You know there’s no way anyone in this small little town would willingly hire him, since everyone knows who he is, and he’s coming back around the same time as he normally would… except sometimes he goes out in the evenings every now and then for just a few hours, when he never did that before, and takes his bag with him for some reason, and you know now that you think about it you recall the local news talking about a string of break-in thefts and increase in drug usage and — no, no, you know what? You decide to not think about it. Your mind has had as much as you can handle and you decide to tell yourself your beloved baby boy has some lucrative job he just never talks about for some reason or another. If you can convince yourself of that, well, that’s the first step to blissful ignorance, so you just cup his face in your hands and kiss his sweet face and tell him you’re so thankful and how much you love him and feel your heart melt when he looks so happy and proud of himself for you saying so.

But because he’s at least starting to show some self-awareness, understanding money issues and such, you figure this is a good time to get him invested in his own future.

You’re also a little worried about said future, given that the prospects for partnership in such a rural place are already sparse. Since everyone knows him, people guard their daughters and watch him like a hawk, tell them to stay the hell away from that boy, and they do listen, keep their distance. This troubles you, you bring it up to him — if you get a bad reputation, you’ll scare all the girls away! — and for once, he actually has some reaction.

But you’re not scared of me, are you?

Of course, you coo and fuss and say of course not — he's your baby, even if he hurts others, he's always so soft and sweet to you — and that seems to make him content, and anything you say about future prospects thereafter goes ignored.

Well, he ignores anything about prospects for him, at least. It's a different story when it comes to you.

Because the subject does come up once again. If you can just get a wealthy man, you say one day, you can easily make life so much easier for the both of you. You could get him a good education without debt, really set him up to have a bright future.

But the moment you mention it, his expression contorts with some amalgamation of shock, disgust, outrage, concern. He shakes his head and grabs you so firmly by your shoulders and says you can't be serious.

He'll be fine without college. No other man is going to appreciate you like he does. Love you like he does. No way can he let some guy just come in and invade the space you two have always shared. It would feel wrong, it would feel so foreign to him to have someone else living here when it's always been just you two. Besides, so many men would just use you, hurt you, leave you, he doesn't want to see you get hurt — and he'd never hurt you.

He's insistent, actually, on not going off to study. He wants to stay home, he says. He can't just leave you all alone! You'll be so lonely and you might replace him with another man— ah, you might get a boyfriend, and he couldn't be there to keep the guy in line.

And if some other man hurt you— well, he would do something really really bad, something that would get him locked up for a long time.

You don't want that, do you?

Because then, if some guy dumps you — which would inevitably happen, that's just how guys are, they'd use you and leave once they got bored or decided to replace you.

Like Dad, he says.

And sure enough, you tense up — he knows exactly what to say to make his words sting, he knows how much it hurts you, knows it's digging up pain you've tried to bury. You want to think he wouldn't do that on purpose. He's just distressed and the words came out without thinking.

But that pain is the hook to get you to listen. Because, he says, then if he goes away too, you'll be all alone without him. You'll have no one, and everyone in town already judges you, how would you ever survive without him? You need him, don't you? Could you really deal with the guilt of knowing it's your fault he would be locked up?

You try to reason with him, and his grip on your shoulders grows so tight it hurts.

For the first time, you feel a little scared of him, as he looks down at you — when did your baby boy get so much taller than you? — with a dark look in his eyes.

You find yourself shrinking back. Stammering out a soft little okay, nodding your head, saying you understand. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat.

And with that, he's immediately back to normal, smiley and happy and relieved you understand. He just doesn't want you to get hurt, is all. Because he loves you. You know that, right?

As long as you stay with him and him alone, he won't have any reason to really hurt someone. So, you know, his future hinges on your decisions, because he just can't help himself when it comes to defending you.

But that’s unlikely to happen on its own (everyone avoids you because of him and all), which is why you'd have to deliberately choose to pursue another man, which would make what happens your fault. He'll chase off any guys that get too close on their own.

Just don't put him in a position where he's forced to kill someone, and everything will be fine. You'll always have him, after all.

[roosterr]

murphy's law

a/n: ive had this idea in my head for a while so i decided to dump it out of my brain for all of you to enjoy. somewhat inspired by lunarvicar's amazing wonderful fic to the flame i really love her writing so check it out yo also i haven't written anything in years so cut me some slack :')

pairing: captain john price x gn!reader

summary: when a simple mission goes south, you get left behind in the confusion. you just can't seem to catch a break.

no use of y/n, callsign is 'vantage'

no physical description, but reader is (very) vaguely implied to be shorter than price

warnings: descriptions of injury (nothing too graphic), canon-typical violence, hurt/comfort, angst with a happy ending, minor character death, i don't know how the military works lmao, lots of swearing bc i can't help myself

word count: 8.6k

read it on ao3 here

✹✹✹

it was a straightforward mission; in and out, grab what you need, and you'd be home in time for dinner. nothing you hadn't handled before.

ghost and price were on overwatch; the lieutenant was positioned with his rifle on a rooftop across the street, whilst the captain stayed in the suv with a laptop to keep an eye on the surveillance cameras around the exterior of the building.

you'd had your eyes on this intel for months now, biding your time and waiting for the perfect moment to strike. your opening had finally arrived, and with all that time spent planning, it was going so well.

that should have been the first red flag.

the second, more apparent, warning sign was that anything you found as you, gaz, and soap swept the building was either something you already knew, or irrelevant. how was that possible? the location of this facility was a heavily guarded secret, you'd fought tooth and nail to find it; why spend so much effort hiding something which had such little value?

you'd ventured to the second floor, up the damp stairwell and further into the eerily quiet building. there must be something worth hiding here, you just had to find it. you certainly weren't planning on going home empty handed.

you paused your movement into the dark, staring down the empty corridor through the sights of your gun. you felt your stomach turn, and swallow down the sick taste of bile in your throat. for everything you'd done to get here…

it was going so… well.

bringing your hand to the radio on your chest, you don't bother to calm the shake in your voice before speaking.

"does this feel off to anyone–"

you're cut off by price's shouting, a twinge of panic in his voice you aren't used to hearing from him.

"fuck– it's an ambush! get out of there, now!"

you're about to respond, when you hear gunshots from below you. soap and gaz were downstairs, where the hostiles were pouring into the building, and you were on your own upstairs.

the shots from ghost's rifle make your ears ring, even from across the street.

"vantage, get yer arse down here, there's too many of 'em!" soap's yelling brings you out of your haze, and you can't find the energy to respond as you take off running, back to the stairs you came up. "shit– man down! gaz is hit! they're coming up, vantage!"

you just about register what he said when the door to the stairway bursts open only a few metres ahead of you. diving into the nearest open room, you narrowly avoid a bullet to the gut, and slam the door shut behind you.

shit. fuck. fucking shit.

you counted at least four hostiles up here, and with gaz injured, soap would most likely be dragging him back to the suv you all arrived in, where price was waiting, which meant…

you really were alone.

well, ghost was out there, but he was a man of self preservation. he wouldn't risk coming in here to save you. not when you were this fucked.

your chest felt tight, now, and you could hear the enemies shouting on the other side of the wall. come on, you plead with yourself, do something!

snapping your head to look around the room you'd trapped yourself in, your eyes linger on the filing cabinets lining the wall next to you. you can drag them over here, barricade the door. 

prolong your survival, or delay the inevitable.

you hadn't noticed how hard your nails were digging into your palms until you went to grip the cabinet. the half-moon divots stung against the cool metal as you heaved it in front of the door.

now the hostiles are outside, rattling the wall with their attempts to kick the door down.

you drag another one, for safe measure. you pray they'll be heavy enough.

through the blood rushing in your ears, you can just about make out price's voice.

"vantage, answer me dammit! what is your bloody status!"

"i'm good– i'm good," you manage to get out between pants, never once taking your eyes off the door. willing your heartbeat to slow down. "not injured, just– stuck in a room upstairs."

"that doesn't sound good to me."

it all went quiet when he spoke to you. at first you thought it was just because your focus had shifted– because it was him– but it really was quiet now.

"yeah, i… they're– wait, they're not at the door anymore, they…"

hold on.

what?

"ghost, you got eyes? what's happenin' over there?" there's a sense of urgency to your captain's voice, and for a single selfish moment, you think he might be worried for you beyond that of a just soldier. your frenzied mind lingers on that thought.

the gruff voice of ghost brings you back to reality,

"they're setting charges– vantage, you need to find a way out."

charges. explosives.

all you can muster is a half-hearted, "shit…"

deep down, you know that isn't going to happen. you wouldn't have time to run down the stairs, and even if you did you'd only be walking right into their bullets. there's nothing they can do to help. and you think, deep down, they know that too.

this is it, then, you think to yourself, am i really going to die like this?

and for another fleeting moment, you're filled with regret that you would never get to see john's face again. all the stolen glances, lingering touches, inside jokes; none of it would ever amount to anything. would he remember you? would he even come back for your dog tags?

the tightness is back in your heart, but it's different this time.

your eyes still don't leave the door as your back hits the wall. the faint moonlight gives the room a soft glow, serene, and your heart sinks further into your stomach.

the moonlight;

the window, the outside.

not an ideal escape route, but these were hardly ideal circumstances.

you didn't waste a second with hesitation and backed up for a running start. you thank every deity you can think of that you always insisted on wearing a helmet.

this was going to hurt, but it was better than the alternative.

"van, you have to get out, please!" you're not even sure who's talking in your ear anymore, but you know who you want it to be.

for him, you think to yourself, i have to make it back to him.

with a deep breath, you take off into a sprint, tucking your head into your elbow and diving shoulder first through the glass.

as you free fall out the second storey window, you think you hear john calling your name, your real name, and you think you feel a flutter in your chest. it was almost peaceful.

and then you hit the ground.

with a thump and a sickening crack, you rolled unceremoniously and ended up on your side, in the snowy alleyway behind the building you were just trapped in; the building that was about to be demolished. your elbow muffled your pained cry.

right, explosives, the reason you jumped to begin with.

your teammates are still going berserk in your ear, yelling at each other or you or both, but you can't bring yourself to respond. you could answer them once you were a safe distance away– and when you could breathe without heaving. as you stand, swaying on your feet, you feel your ribs shift in a way they definitely aren't supposed to, filling you once again with the innate urge to vomit.

but you swallow that down; it'll have to wait, you need to get as far away as possible, now.

your hands braced your broken ribs– and you notice, then, that your shoulder is killing you too– as you stumble down another alley, leading away from the building. you slip and almost fall on the untouched snow, but somehow manage to catch yourself. in the back of your mind, you notice you lost your rifle at some point. you'd have to survive with just your pistol.

for a moment, you almost felt that you'd gotten away, that you'd made the perfect escape.

of course, it was too perfect.

the charges finally went off. you were thrown forward, and despite your helmet, everything went black.

✹✹✹

your ribs flared with agony at the ragged breath you took, blinking your eyes open as consciousness returned to you. darkness swarmed your vision, contrasting the pure white of the snow that was slowly freezing your extremities, and you fought with every bit of self-restraint you had not to cry. your eyes stung anyway.

how long were you out? you were still in the alley, and you hadn't been found by anyone yet, so it couldn't have been long. i need to move, is the only thought swirling in your head. with what little strength you could muster, you rolled yourself onto your back to look at the ruins behind you.

dust filled the air and coated everything in sight, obscuring your vision almost fully; but what you could make out, was the lights from your enemy's guns as they swept the rubble.

looking for you, presumably.

shit shit shit.

you had god knows how many broken ribs, your shoulder was fucked, and now your vision was swimming, and to top it all off you could barely hear yourself think over the violent ringing in your ears. this night just kept getting better and better.

it took everything in you not to scream at the agony as you dragged yourself behind a fallen dumpster, sitting up against the cold brick of the building behind you in an attempt to catch your breath.

in. out. in. out.

in.

out.

every move had your bones creaking in protest, the longer you sat here the more you felt every little cut and bruise and shard of glass littering your body. the dust in the air tickled your throat and threatened to make you cough up a lung, spots in your vision danced like fireflies, luring you back into the clutches of sleep.

no… i can't rest yet, you urged yourself to fight your drooping eyelids, i have to get back to the suv… they're waiting… for me…

the crunch of debris under heavy boots snaps you back to the present.

someone was approaching.

the optimist in you wanted to believe it was price, coming to rescue you. but you couldn't take that chance. your hand grips the pistol on your hip, drawing it out slowly to make as little noise as possible.

the shadowed figure came stumbling into view. your arm straightened to aim at their unprotected head, eyes wide and breathing laboured.

the man– the boy– locked eyes with you, flinging himself backwards to the wall opposite you with his hands held high.

your expression hardened. he was your enemy. his uniform made that clear. for a moment, neither of you moved, you weren't even sure if he was breathing anymore. like two wild animals, locked in a staredown, each of you waiting for the other to make the first move. which one of you was the hunter, and which one was the prey?

shooting him will draw his comrades over here. sparing him means he can call them over himself. a lose-lose.

lost in your internal debate as you stare at him, you vaguely notice his hand lowering to his belt, and in a moment of panic, your heart clenches in time with your finger to deliver a shot right between his eyes.

his body slid down the wall, a perfect mirror of your own as the life fades from his expression.

shit. again.

his friends must’ve heard that. with renewed, adrenaline fueled vigour, you scramble across the alley, and begin rifling through the packs on his chest and belt.

a twinge of guilt fills you as you notice his empty holsters. he wasn't even armed.

shaking your head, you find what you're looking for; a morphine shot. at least, that's what it looked like, the words on the label were swimming with the concussion you surely had. it would have to do.

you take the syringe carefully, and stick the end into the muscle of your thigh, through a rip in your pants you hadn't noticed before, and inject the solution. it would take a minute to kick in, but hopefully the painkiller would help you at least make it back to the suv where your team was waiting.

where price was waiting. god you hoped they were okay, him especially, though he was probably in the least danger of you all. what you wouldn't give to have stayed in the car with him.

pocketing the empty syringe, you spare another glance at the boy's face. his wide, lifeless eyes. the pack he was reaching for. the same one you found the morphine in.

he… was going to help you. and you'd killed him.

oh god. the realisation has your stomach turning for the third time that day.

you pressed his eyes shut and pushed yourself to stand. as you trudge your way to the far end of the alley, you keep your eyes forward. there wasn't time to linger.

with a deep breath, you steel yourself and begin to make your way through the cold, abandoned streets of the small town. the suv wasn't far, only a couple blocks away. it wouldn't take you long to get there, even with your injuries.

somewhere in the distance, you could hear terrified screaming, presumably the residents who were forced awake by the sound of the explosion.

now that the ringing had died down, you realise that you hadn't heard your teammates in a while. absent-mindedly, you bring a hand up to press the comms, and you almost start talking before you feel the plastic crunch under your fingers.

"oh for fucks sake."

of fucking course your radio was broken. it must have been crushed when you were flung forward by the explosion.

brilliant.

whatever, the suv would be in your sight soon anyway, you don't need it.

the cover of night made it significantly easier to hobble through the streets unseen, thanks to your all black gear. the enemy were still hovering around the destroyed building, but at least that meant they thought you were buried under there. hopefully they would stay distracted long enough for you to make it back.

god, fuck, you really couldn't wait to get back to base. you desperately needed a shower hot enough to melt your skin to scrub off all the dirt and blood from your body. the morphine had started to kick in now, but you still felt your ribs shift unnaturally with every heavy step. you'd definitely need a few weeks off to recover from this one, and you’d probably get an earful from the captain. you’d kill to hear his voice right now, even if he was yelling at you for being an idiot.

only a little further. then you’d be back with the safety of your team, with this godforsaken place in the rear view mirror. with the promise of being able to rest, your limbs seemed to grow heavier as the exhaustion finally made its way into your bones.

except, when you turn the final corner, you freeze, an ice-cold dread sweeping through your veins.

the car was gone.

it wasn’t there.

they weren’t there.

there was a stretch of tarmac that fresh snow just beginning to fall had yet to cover, tire-tracks that showed the u-turn the suv had done, blood on the snow from– you assume– gaz, empty bullet casings from the fight they put up.

but no suv.

no teammates.

no john.

no. no, no no no. they couldn’t have left you. that wasn’t how you did things in the 141. it was no man left behind, you knew that. maybe they’re just circling the area, you rationalised, desperately trying to calm your ragged breathing, yeah, they went to look for me. they wouldn’t leave me behind.

but they weren't here.

and as you followed the tire-tracks down the street, they didn’t go back into the town. they made a straight line, directly to the dirt track leading into the wilderness, clear as day in the snow. back the way you had all gotten here earlier that night.

your knees dampen from the snow, the painkiller in your system keeping you from feeling the impact. when did you fall over? there was no attempt to stop the searing hot tears this time as they ran through the dirt caked to your face. your throat constricted, lifting a hand to your mouth to muffle your hyperventilating.

they were gone.

long gone, without you.

they really had left you behind.

a mumble from somewhere to your left interrupts your breakdown. grief morphs into blinding rage for a split second; can i get a fucking break? you swing your arm still holding the pistol to point at whoever was watching you, twisting your abdomen in a way that has you gritting your teeth.

a woman, clutching her young son, shielding his eyes and ears from you.

you lower your gun. that’s not a mistake you’ll make twice. catching her eyes, you gesture for her to be quiet, which is quickly met with her frantic nodding.

it reminds you, you’re still not safe here. you were supposed to be, but hey, it looks like plans change. no man left behind– what a load of horseshit. you push yourself onto shaky legs, you only had a few hours until the morphine wore off, and you needed to be out of here before that happened. as fast as you could possibly muster, you begin to stumble towards the dirt track that disappears into the treeline, following the slowly disappearing tire-tracks.

✹✹✹

you managed to make it into the woods faster than you expected, and you found a fallen tree slightly off the path to take shelter behind while you licked your wounds. literal and metaphorical.

this was unbelievable. how could they leave you like that? if they’d only taken the time to do a quick lap of the building, they would’ve found you laying face down in the snow, and this whole mess could have been avoided. where were they off to in such a hurry anyway? it’s not like you guys had found anything sensitive. 

oh, wait. gaz was shot. that had briefly slipped your mind. perhaps you were being a little selfish by getting so worked up by this, but then again, for all they knew you could have been in the same condition– or worse. they…

your breath hitched. and not from your injuries.

they thought you were dead. that would make sense, in the chaos of everything, and amidst your panic, you didn’t really do a good job keeping up with answering your comms. still though, you were definitely going to rip them all a new one when you got back; or maybe it would be the other way around.

either way, you couldn’t sit here and dwell on it all night. you needed to make it to the safehouse before they flew back to base. if you missed them this time, you really were well and truly fucked.

✹✹✹

"i've gotta be at least half-way by now," you lament, flopping down against another tree with a grunt in an attempt to calm the burning in your legs and chest. the morphine had worn off about a few hours ago, and you were finally feeling all the bleeding wounds you'd ignored before. nothing lethal, you hoped, aside from your shoulder, ribs, and splitting headache, it was mostly just a lot of glass in your skin.

when you left the town, it must have been just past midnight, and at this pace it would be well after morning before you made it back. you could just about see the first signs of dawn poking through the cloud layer.

the snow had gotten heavier, casting a haze over the horizon, but it hadn't escalated into a storm yet. even under all your gear, the cold was starting to bite at your limbs. your lack of gloves was a decision you were coming to regret; if you lost any fingers because of this you really were going to kill price.

"fuck, he thinks i'm dead…" you groan as you stare up at the sky. snowflakes catch in your eyelashes and threaten to freeze the tears as they well up in your eyes. was he as distraught as you currently were, you wonder? was he even moved at all, or were you just another soldier, just more paperwork he had to fill out?

being in love with your captain was so, so difficult. a mistake, most would say, and you used to tell yourself the same thing. but after knowing him, seeing the vulnerable parts of him he keeps closely guarded, you can't bring yourself to care. seeing his expression when you gifted him the cigars you bought for him, learning his favourite drink when you all went out after missions, trading stories over paperwork in his office late at night. even after everything you've been through together, you know, in your heart, he doesn't feel the same; he's your superior, you're his sergeant, and he is nothing if not an honest man. it can never work between you two. but despite it all, the only regret you have as you sit bleeding in the snow, is that you never told him how you felt.

please, don't leave me here… 

in the back of your mind, you know they wouldn't go home without at least id-ing your body, but you were so shaken by the ongoing near death experience that your train of thought wasn't making much sense anymore.

the distant whirr of a helicopter snapped you back to reality. maybe it was… no, the 141 didn't have a helicopter here, which could only mean it was a hostile one. fucking fantastic. where you were slumped was right at the edge of the road, with very little cover from above. you needed to move further off the path, under the protection of the forest canopy.

with a laboured grunt, you pulled yourself back onto your feet, using the tree behind you as a crutch until you could catch your breath again. the helicopter was getting nearer now, close enough that you could almost make out the spotlight through the falling snow.

a brief jog was all you could manage to get away from the road. the snow wasn't deep enough to leave tracks that would be noticeable from the air, not through the shade of darkness. you still as the helicopter passes overhead. there's no change in its course, and you huff a breath of relief. at least you wouldn't have to try and outrun a chopper.

you watch the helicopter's silhouette fade into the night sky. there was nothing to do but carry on. you needed to get to the safehouse.

this was going to be a long night.

✹✹✹

hours, it had been hours since you first set off, so long in fact that it was essentially daytime. the sun hadn't fully risen, casting the world in a dim light that was just dark enough to keep you tripping over roots and holes in the ground.

the snow had let up a while ago, but the overcast clouds had stayed, the perfect match to your steadily declining mood. you thought you felt like shit earlier? if only you could have predicted how much worse it would get. you were acclimated to the pain by now, it reduced to a constant throbbing where your bones were broken. perhaps the icy temperature around you was numbing your injuries; it was either that or the shock.

ahead, you recognised a set of worn tire-tracks making a hard turn through a gap in the forest. there was no way of knowing it was the right way, but a spark of optimism ignites in your chest. maybe you were finally getting close. you just had to pray that your sense of direction was good enough to be leading you in the right direction.

you were right on top of the tracks now, and upon closer inspection, the pattern of the treads might just match the ones on the suv; you've had to fix that damn car so many times you'd know it in your sleep. they were messy, the snow making it hard to pick out, but you needed the hope right now.

this had to be them.

you go to continue down the clear path, to follow where your team had gone, but your luck just doesn't improve.

the mud slides under your foot, catching your ankle and toppling you in your attempt to struggle through. the breath is forced from your lungs as you impact the ground. you cry out through gritted teeth, feeling the strain of your muscles twisting far further than they're supposed to.

pain strikes through your ankle like lightning. drawing a breath is almost impossible from the pressure of your ribs. as you fight to sit up, the mud fights to drag you back down like quicksand.

fuck. another injury to slow you down.

muddy snow covers you from head to toe, the stabbing pain in your shoulder coming back in full force.

was that a car? the low rumbling from the direction you came from drew your attention, and you faintly see beams of headlights through the darkness. you momentarily forgot about your injuries, a frenzied panic making your blood run cold. another patrol. i need to go.

then, as you struggle to get up and out of sight, you feel a concerning pop from your kneecap, and you don't even have to look to know it's dislocated.

but there was no time to check the damage, you had to hide, now, or the truck would reach you and you'd have a lot more problems on your hands. you scramble onto your hands and knees, and yank your ankle free of the wet mud, practically throwing yourself behind the undergrowth just in time for the truck to round the bend.

your ribs are displaced again, injecting fresh pain into the shuddering breath you took, on top of your newly twisted ankle and dislocated kneecap bent uncomfortably beneath you.

it's a miracle you were able to keep quiet as the vehicle passed by.

by some stroke of luck, or just divine stupidity, your enemies drive straight past the space in the trees and your hiding spot. the headlights cast ominous shadows as they cruise by, but they didn't see you.

struggling to your feet once again, this time you give the muddy path a wide berth as you make your way deeper into the forest.

✹✹✹

one foot in front of the other. dragging your injured leg behind you. cradling your broken ribs.

just keep going.

limping through the mud took every resource your body had left, the effort of keeping upright was almost more than you could take.

how much longer could you possibly go, before you can't get back up again?

you couldn't lose hope.

ahead of you, a break in the sea of trees.

just one foot in front of the other. that's all you need. it's all you can do.

closer, stepping out into the open, squinting against the sun.

against the pale light of the morning sky, you see a dark shape. a building? you couldn't tell, you could only pray it was the warehouse you'd been longing for.

one foot in front of the other.

closer still, despite the bone-deep exhaustion in every limb. you could make it out now, the rusted metal siding and fresh tire-tracks in the mud. you were right there.

you taste the salt before you realise you're crying. 

almost,

somewhere between the agony, you hear yourself think,

still too early to celebrate.

your heart stutters. they were here, they had to be.

they had to be.

one foot in front of the other.

closer again, you focus on the keypad beside the door. your ankle twists uncomfortably as it drags along the gravel.

the handle became your crutch as you mustered the energy to lift your arm to enter the code.

seeing double, vision swaying as the edges fade.

a distant beep. a red light turning to green.

the handle turns under your weight, and the door swings open.

you find the floor coming up fast.

voices are all around you.

you give in to unconsciousness.

✹✹✹

the distinct hospital smell is what rouses you from your deep, dreamless sleep. hands prod at your busted ribs, drawing a scratchy groan from your dry throat. you grab the wrist of whoever is there as you fight to open your eyes.

"sergeant vantage?" they call out to you, and you realise with a disappointed sigh that it's the medic and not your captain. you open your eyes fully and see her standing above you with a clipboard in one hand. apart from her, you're alone in the medical wing. she notices you looking around, and looks down at the clipboard as she continues,  "glad to see you finally awake. your teammate gaz got off pretty lucky, the bullet went clean through his leg. you on the other hand, i'm impressed you made it back at all."

your ankle is in a boot and elevated on some pillows, and you can feel your knee is tightly bandaged under the blankets. an ache starts to form in your shoulder at the effort of holding your arm up.

"vantage, i need you to let go of my wrist." she says, and after an awkward pause you free her from your hold.

"sorry doc…" you mumble, bringing both hands up to your face and observing the tiny cuts littering your skin. you let them flop down to your sides again, but the aching doesn't subside.

"how are you feeling?" she breaks the momentary quiet, setting her clipboard down on the table next to your bed, "want me to get you anything?"

"i'd kill for some water…" you wheeze, the dehydration was catching up to you.

"alright, i'll be right back," the doctor affirms, making her way to the door. she turns back to look you in the eyes with a stern expression before she leaves, "please don't go anywhere."

and with that, the door clicks shut and you're left truly alone with your thoughts again.

your bones creak as you push yourself to sit up, your movements sluggish still with exhaustion, and you're reminded of just how badly you were hurt. everything aches, and it feels as though you'd been asleep for years.

gaz was okay, that's a relief. a little insulting that he got shot and was still in better condition than you, but whatever.

you look around the room for something, anything, to take your mind off the pain, and your eyes eventually land on the table beside you. a few cards sat on top, all with some variation of get well soon on the front, along with a small vase of flowers. you pick up the card closest to you and open it to read the scratchy handwriting inside.

'i swear you could survive a nuke, you're like a cockroach! get better soon, lots of love, soap! xxxxx'

what a charmer soap was. you chuckle at his lighthearted message, he always did try to keep your spirits up in times like these. as you place the card back where it was, your gaze is drawn to the empty chair next to your bed. there was a thin blanket folded over the back, probably left by whoever was last sitting there.

your mind begins to wander; how long were you out? your teammates clearly visited, does that mean price did too? you feel your stomach flutter at the thought of him worrying for you, watching over you as you recover. and if he fell asleep at your bedside? the heart monitor might call the doctor back if this train of thought continues. but then again, you doubted he'd be that forward, he would most likely be buried in paperwork like he usually is after a mission. and the mission you just came back from would require more paperwork than most.

because they… left you behind. that's right. you had to walk yourself back to the safehouse on all your injuries. who knows how long you were walking for but it must have been at least ten hours, considering the sun had risen by the time you got there. the butterflies were swiftly melted by the hot anger rising within you.

you were going to give him a piece of your mind, just like you promised.

all thoughts of the pain you were feeling are out of your head as you fling the blanket off your lower body. you grip your injured leg and lift it over the edge of the bed, swinging your other leg to plant both feet on the floor.

just as you were about to pull yourself up to stand, the door opens again and the medic walks in with your water bottle in her hand. she stops, an icy look in her eyes as she observes what you're doing.

you look back at her, debating whether you should give it up and lay back down, but your anger quickly wins over. the heart monitor picks up again as you work yourself up.

"i swear to god, if you don't sit back down right now," she makes her way over, setting the water down on the table you were using as a crutch. you meet her eyes indignantly, and go to step around her anyway. "no! you need to rest!" the doc puts her hands on your shoulders, and she stops your movement embarrassingly easily.

"fuck that," you croak, your voice still hoarse, "where's captain shithead? i need a word."

she maneuvers you back into sitting on the edge of the bed, and hands you the water. you keep your sour expression, but still drink half the bottle in one go.

"i assume you mean captain price? he's in his office, hasn't come out since you all got back." she takes the bottle from you when you're done, setting it down again, before moving to take the iv out of your arm. if she feels your glare, she doesn't acknowledge it. "whatever it is, it can wait."

"yeah right, i got a few strong words for him, and he is gonna hear 'em."

the doc hesitates as she works.

"i don't know exactly what happened out there, but i think you should know… that he hasn't visited you," she speaks softly, watching your angry expression fall. "your other teammates did, i even saw ghost sneaking out of here one night, but you didn't hear that from me."

silence overcame the small room again as her words sunk in. he left you for dead, and now he was avoiding you? even ghost visited you, and you'd barely had a single conversation with him. your heart feels tight again, the same way it did when you were trapped in that building.

"how long was i out?" your voice is low, almost a whisper.

"two days."

you should have listened to all the people who told you loving him was a bad idea. you'd almost died, and he still didn't visit you? that stung. god, you haven't even been awake an hour and you already want to throw up.

i guess i really don't mean that much to him, huh?

you think back to the night before the mission, when you'd sat with john while he did paperwork. at first, he tried to convince you to get some sleep, 

"you wanna be well rested, love."

but you stayed anyway, saying that you'd just sleep on the flight. you would rather spend your nights of insomnia with him anyway.

the two of you had talked for hours that night, about anything that came to mind. it was the early hours of the morning when you finally retreated back to your own quarters. he'd insisted on seeing you back, despite the fact that it was the middle of the night and your room was in the next building over. the way he'd lingered by your door as you said goodnight, you really thought he was going to kiss you then. but he didn't, and you went to sleep with a heavy feeling of disappointment that persevered into the next day.

"i'm sorry vantage." the medic sets something down on the end of the bed, and you turn to look. a pile of your clothes. "i know how you soldiers are, you're gonna get up as soon as i leave no matter what i say, so i'd rather you not walk around in a hospital gown."

she was right.

"...thanks, doc."

despite the overwhelming pain in your heart, you were still about to rip into price.

✹✹✹

you limp out of the infirmary after dressing yourself as quickly as your injuries would allow, which is to say, not very fast. thankfully there weren't any stairs between here and your captain's office, you definitely wouldn't be able to make it up them with your crutch.

the sun was already setting, a pink hue filling the sky as you pushed open the doors of the medical wing. you tried to think as little as possible as you made your way steadily across the courtyard. it would only upset you, and you desperately wanted to be pissed at him. you wouldn't– couldn't– let price see how hurt you were, he probably didn't care anyway. he was just your captain, after all, realistically there was no reason for you to be this upset.

but you were, and the few people you encountered in the corridors could see it written on your face, staying well out of your way as you shuffled past them.

as you stared at the closed door of john's office, your anger wavered. despite the ache in your heart, you considered for a moment that perhaps you were being dramatic. he was your captain, you were just one of his soldiers. it made perfect sense that he'd prioritise the lives of three others over yours alone.

it was his job, and he did it well.

you love john, of course you do, and that's why you're so affected by that fact. maybe you were letting your selfishness get the better of you. honestly, you didn't have a real reason to believe he felt the same way about you. everyone on task force 141 was close, that's the way things are, you couldn't confidently say he treated you differently.

but he was smart. he had to know how you felt, had at least had to know that you don't go out of your way for your other teammates as much as you do for him.

then again, even ghost had visited you while you were out, and you considered yourself much closer to price than him. so maybe he hated you now, he'd finally gotten tired of your poor decision making skills. it was the reason you were in this situation to begin with.

you were just about to abandon the idea of laying into him when price's voice sounded through the door.

"whoever's standin' out there, hurry up and come in, or piss off." he sounded exhausted, his tone blunt with annoyance. it wasn't unusual for him to get like that, especially whilst buried in mind-numbingly boring paperwork, but you could feel something else under the surface of his sharp tone.

well, there goes your last chance to run. you took a moment to steel yourself, to remember that you were in fact angry at him, and open the door with the harshest look you can muster.

he didn't look up as you let the door close behind you, keeping his nose buried in whatever report he was currently scribbling on. his hat was discarded on the desk next to him, and the hand in his hair was keeping it the messiest you'd ever seen it. you breathe in deeply through your nose.

"oh you'd love to get rid of me that easily, wouldn't you?" you spit, coming to stand in the middle of the room.

john's head snaps forward at the sound of your voice, the hand in his hair dropping to his desk, allowing you to finally get a good look at him. his eyes were wide and tired, you could tell the bags under them were darker than the last time you'd looked him in the face.

"vantage…" he spoke with something almost like disbelief, like he couldn't fathom that you were really in front of him. the hard lines of his face soften as his eyes meet yours, and then even further when his gaze falls to your crutch and boot.

fuck, how were you supposed to stay mad at him when he looks at you like that? you channel every ounce of bottled up frustration you have before his blue eyes consume you.

"well unfortunately, i am still alive. not that you give a shit; you got a restraining order on the infirmary or something?"

he murmurs your name– your real name, and as he rises to stand, his eyes don't leave yours for a second.

fuuuuuck.

"what? you leave me for dead, now the cats got your tongue?" you hiss at him, but you can feel the venom leaving your words with every second. the way his expression falls ever so slightly has you regretting what you were saying. you came in here needing to hurt him the way he hurt you, but you were quickly losing your nerve.

"don't do that…" he was almost pleading, as he made his way around his desk to stand in front of you, his piles of paperwork long forgotten. he goes to grasp your elbow, but you pull back before he can touch you. 

"sorry if you've already filled out my death certificate, i'd hate to cause you any more headaches." there was little fight left in your voice now, as you stared each other down in the middle of his office.

in the pause, john screws his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, before fixing you with a hard stare.

"don't. you know i would never've left you if i had any other choice!" it's not anger when he raises his voice, it's desperation; trying to convince himself as well as you. he takes another step towards you, toe to toe now as you lock eyes.

"do i know that? because from where i'm standing, it looks like you couldn't get far enough away from me," you can't help the way your voice cracks, nor can you disguise the hurt when you continue, "even fucking ghost visited me, but not you…"

another beat of silence.

"i couldn't…" john mumbled, eyes showing his mind was somewhere else. your chest tightened; every trace of anger was gone, replaced with the heartache you'd gotten so familiar with when it came to him.

"correct me if i'm wrong, but i really thought you cared." you try to take a step back, put some distance between the two of you, but he grabs your upper arm– successfully this time– to stop you going anywhere. it takes an impressive amount of restraint not to melt at his touch.

"of course i fuckin' care!" he growls, tugging you marginally closer.

your eyes hardened again; of course he did, just not in the way you wanted him to.

you jab your finger into his chest as you speak, your expression sour. "well you could've fooled–"

he grabs your hand as he cuts you off, and you can see the muscles in his jaw clenching, his face turning sharp again.

"bloody hell, just shut up! it killed me to leave without you, y'know that? if it weren't for simon i would've sent 'em back without me! i waited, as long as i could," he wasn't shouting, but you went quiet as if he was, any retaliation you thought of dying on your tongue. john let out a heavy sigh before he continued, "but you didn't come. you were stuck in that building, and then when it went up in fuckin' smoke, what was i supposed to think? i– we called out to you so many times, but you never responded."

the silence between you was heavy. deep down, you had already assumed everything he was telling you, but to actually hear it from his mouth had you choking up in his grasp.

"i…" you tried to say something, anything, but the words just wouldn't come. despite your best efforts, the tears welling up in your eyes were close to spilling over as your gaze fell to the floor.

john sighed again, softer this time, and using the hand on your arm he brought you into his chest, letting go of your hand with his other and wrapping it securely around your back.

you rest your cheek against his chest, bringing your own arms up around his torso, and revelled in the feeling of his embrace. listening to his elevated heartbeat, you wondered if he could feel just how hard yours was beating too.

"when you came crashin' through that door the next mornin', alive, i swear i've never been so relieved. but then you wouldn't wake up, and you were covered in so much blood… i…" his voice breaks, actually breaks, and you try to lift your head to look at him, but his hand on your arm moves up and presses into the back of your head, holding you tight against him. "...i was fuckin' terrified, love." he whispered.

"... why didn't you visit me?" the question you'd been meaning to ask all along, the real reason you had been upset at him.

you feel him press his lips into the top of your head, gently rocking you both where you stand. the crutch falls from your arm, but neither of you make any move to retrieve it.

"i couldn't. i couldn't face you, layin' in that hospital bed, hooked up to all them machines… knowin' it was my fault…"

"Hey, you know it wasn’t…" you murmur with disapproval; as much as you hate to admit it, you dug yourself into that hole.

"fuck, i'm– so fucking sorry love,"

"don't apologise… please, you did what you had to," you lift your head, and you can look him in the face again. his eyes were slightly red; if your heartstrings were pulled anymore they'd surely break. "plus, i was never really mad at you anyway."

he huffs out a small chuckle, his breath fanning over your face, the crease in his brow melting away as your eyes meet, "well ain't that a relief?"

"i thought you were pissed at me, and that's why you didn't visit…" you clear your throat and avoid his gaze, "i mean, i did lock myself in a building full of hostiles… not my finest moment,"

"no. as stupid as you are sometimes, i could never be angry at you." 

"that is a relief."

a quiet overcomes the two of you, standing in eachothers arms as the evening sun casts the room in an orange glow. you wanted to stay like this for the rest of time, but it was getting increasingly difficult to ignore the voice in the back of your head that said this was inappropriate. the way he was talking, holding you, had your hopes high, just like that night before the mission. the one where you went to bed disappointed. it didn't help that you were expecting the let-down now, if anything it only made your heart sink even lower.

you notice that, exactly like you, john was staring at you with an unreadable expression on his face. you tilt your head, wordlessly urging him to tell you what's going on. he sighs, scanning the multitude of cuts and scrapes that litter your face, "i promise you, i will never let anything like that happen again, alright?"

"i believe you." you smile softly, and you do; of course you do, you'd trust him with your life. it wasn't something you'd admit out loud, but you would do just about anything if he asked you to.

"i swear, i'm not lettin' you outta my sight." the look on his face has you squirming is his grasp, under the intense gaze he pinned you with.

"alright, i get it," you chuckle, your face heating up at the implication. this was doing nothing for the enormous crush you were harbouring. shuffling backwards slightly, you put enough space between you that you can comfortably rest your hands on his chest.

"i don't think you do, love," you feel his chest rumble as he speaks, and his gaze becomes serious, "i coulda' lost you. i thought i did. fuck, when soap and gaz came outta there without you? i thought my heart'd stopped… i just– i…"

it was rare to see your captain so lost for words. you feel his heart beat faster under your fingertips, the distant look in his eyes giving away the internal debate he was surely having.

"john?"

"if i'm out of order, say the word and we can forget all about this, but vantage…" his voice was low, and you felt your cheeks heat up to a boiling point as he cradled your face with one hand and leaned in closer, chest to chest again. the anticipation and the proximity might just make you sick. "you mean the world to me, i don't know what i'd do with myself if i lost you."

was that… what you thought it was? it sounded an awful lot like a confession, and you really really wanted it to be, but… was it too good to be true?

the lack of a response from you had john pulling back with an uncharacteristic cough that radiated embarrassment. he let go of your face, hovering next to your cheek as if he couldn't bear to let go, and you frown at the absence of his warmth.

"just ignore me, i shouldn't've–" he begins to back-pedel, going to move away from you before you cut him off.

"no!" you exclaim, with a bit more panic than you intended, and grasp his shirt in your fists to keep him close. "i get it, i really do. i- i care about you too, probably a lot more than a teammate should." your face heats up at the admission, and he lights up with surprise. "i think i always have."

slowly, he moves his hand back to its place cupping your jaw, searching your eyes for any signs that he was misinterpreting your response. when he found none, he smiled at you so genuinely you doubted anyone had ever been so sincere towards you.

"yeah?" he murmurs, the slight disbelief gone from his expression but still present in his voice.

"yes, john," you mirror his tone, bringing a hand up to hold the back of his neck. his skin burned hot under your touch.

"well thank god for that," his voice is barely a whisper now, as he draws your lips closer to his. the air separating you felt thick enough to be cut.

you let your eyes fall closed, and with a small burst of confidence, you lean forward and close the final distance between the two of you. he kisses you so tenderly, with so much emotion, it makes your head spin. you sigh into him, tilting your head and pressing yourself impossibly closer, revelling in the feeling of being in his arms at last. all your many months of pining had led up to this moment, and you felt like your heart might just burst. regretfully, you find yourself needing to break away for air, and to your delight he follows your lips as you pull back.

"maybe i should get injured more often, if this is what i get," you breathe, a dazed smile on your face as both your eyes flutter open, and his chest rumbles under your hand with a deep chuckle.

"you better not; i'll have your head if you do, love."

✹✹✹

[7ndipity]

Their S/o Has Depression

Ot7 x Reader

Summary: How they would respond to their S/o having depression(or having had depression in the past)

Warnings: mentions of depressive episodes, not proofread

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon who requested this! I’ve actually thought about writing something about this several times, as it’s something I’ve dealt with for many years, but wasn’t quite sure how to go about it.

Reminder to anyone who needs to hear it that you are loved, you will be okay eventually, but it’s okay to not be okay right now. If you need anyone to talk/vent to, I’m here for you💜

Masterlist

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Jin: He would probably be really quiet when you first tell him, just trying to understand and take everything in. Tries to pay closer attention to your moods, and handles you a little softer on the days when you need it. He does his absolute most to make you smile everyday, even if it’s just for a second. He knows it doesn’t make the darkness go away, but sometimes those little moments of light are enough to get you through.

Yoongi: He’s also had his share of struggles with this in the past, so I feel like he might have picked up on some cues, but waited for you to bring it up when you were ready. He tries to subtly look out for you without being overbearing, checking in throughout the day and helping out where he can. Understands that some days you just need to be quiet and ride out the storm, so he’ll just lay with you, keeping a hand out for you to grab if you need it.

Hobi: It would hurt his heart so much to know you’ve gone through/are going through that kind of pain, but he would be so grateful that you trusted him enough to share your struggles with him. If it’s ongoing, he would be super attentive to your moods, trying to help out and support you in little ways wherever he can, whether that’s doing the dishes, making sure you’re eating properly, or just showing you funny videos he found online to make you laugh.

Namjoon: He’s been rather open about his own struggles with depression, so I think he’d be very understanding and sympathetic when you tell him. Very proactive about talking through whatever it is you’re feeling, even if you think it’s stupid or unimportant. Tries to get you to go out or take walks with him on better days, just to make sure you get some fresh air and sunlight regularly, and help make sure you're looking after your physical health as well as your mental.

Jimin: It would break his heart to realize that you struggled/are struggling with this, but his sole focus would become how to help/comfort you. He’s really empathetic, so he would pick up on every little shift in your moods. He understands that sometimes you just need to be reminded that you’re not alone, so he’ll just wrap himself around you on days when you can’t do much, holding you together till you can put the pieces back yourself.

Taehyung: As sad as he is to find out about your struggles, I feel like he’s really good at normalizing things like this without being dismissive, checking in with a number system or smth so you don’t have to talk if you don’t wanna(10’s good, 1’s bad) Has a way of saying the most comforting things in the simplest way(like when he reminded that one fan that she was already a good daughter just by existing). Will lay in bed with you on low days, talking about whatever comes to mind just to help distract you.

Jungkook: As soon as you tell him, he goes into protector mode. He can struggle sometimes to find the right words, so he tends to express his care more through actions. If you can’t bring yourself to clean your apartment, he’ll do it for you(while commentating to you as if it’s a talk show). If you need to just sleep, he’ll curl up with you and keep you safe. The type you can call at 2am cause you don’t wanna be alone, and he’s got his shoes on and out the door before you’ve finished talking.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

[pacifierbby]

CINDERELLA ✧  ; - LN4

Taglist 𐙚 Masterlist

* ੈ✩‧₊ Being brought up in a royal family is hard. Your mother is always expecting something highly off from the way you dress and how you don't act like your other siblings. but what happens when you meet a prince at the masquerade ball? Will they be envied by your siblings and mother? and will there be love?

: ̗̀➛ pairing ln4 x royal fem reader

: ̗̀➛ warnings slight toxicity, fluff, kissing,

: ̗̀➛ Word counter 1,637

Being brought up in a royal family has its pros and cons the pros? well, the late-night balls that the royals have the cons? having your mother pestering you about how you dress and why you can't follow in your sister's footsteps. you always wanted to be like a normal kid who went to college and got your degrees and who partied at the crack of dawn sadly that's forbidden in royal households. that's why sometimes you wish that you weren't born into your family. especially with your evil mothers and siblings like a Cinderella fair tail. You just don't have a powerful godmother, just an awe-full one that you call your sister. your mother's own doing your father has no say

your father was different he cared how you thought about this life wished he could change it for you wished he could have sent you to school when you were younger he didn't care how you wore your clothes or how you did your makeup you were just a normal girl in a royal household. sadly, your father passed away last year. The only person who you could talk to suddenly wasn't here anymore, the person dividing you from your mother. telling her to let her be who she wants to be leaving a mad sigh from your mother slamming the door behind her leaving you and your dad alone once again that feeling of being protected from your father's well being long gone

that's when your life changed, your mother became colder towards you taking control of you. how you lived your life to how you dressed, banning you from the outside world and forcing you to act like your sisters.

Looking back at yourself through the mirror the hairstylist and makeup artist doing their job your mother giving them strict instructions to not let you change how the makeup is. The maids rushing around you giving your dress the final improvements. The dress that you will be wearing for the masquerade ball tonight it was lovely you must admit but it did show so much breast and you wasn't the most comfortable women and to be honest you very rarely wore something like this.

"Alright, Elle everything is done" the hairstylist softly spoke grabbing you from your thoughts and smiling at them through the mirror looking at their work "Thank you" you softly spoke standing up from the dresser and watching the ladies pack "You are very welcome," they both said and with a quick goodbye they walked out of your room leaving you to look in the mirror your make-up making you look different your hair has a wave to it softly bouncing every time you moved. Making you feel a little more comfortable in your self "Miss Ella should we try your dress on before Miss Woods comes in" the maid asked "Yeah" you replied walking towards where your maid was standing with your dress in her hands following her into your bathroom " okay miss Ella ill leave this here shout me if you need anything at all" nodding her head before she left you closing the door behind her. Grabbing the dress from its plastic protector, raising it above your head a little the diamonds around the top of the dress reflecting from the light. Giving the walls a little watery effect. Putting the dress over your head, letting the dress fall a little "Um excuse me" you shouted hoping the maids were still behind the door like they said hearing the door handle move sighing in relief "Yes Mrs Ella what can I do for you" the lady stepping in " can you help me with my buttons please" going red a little in embarrassment holding your dress up at the top making sure it didn't fall "of course my lady" turning away from her. "how does it feel" she asked once she finished the last button "slightly tight but I adore it" smiling at the lady "you look wonderful" she softly replied stepping back to look at you better " your father would be so happy if he could see you today " smiling at her a little looking down if she only knew that your mother forced you into doing this it would be totally different the way your feeling right now is so out of place yes you felt like a princess but this is not you.

Stepping out of your bathroom you saw your mother and sister standing beside your bed "Oh my Ella you are beautiful" walking towards you inspecting you thoroughly you knew this was all an act just to have in front of the maids the siblings smiling a little the evil smile that they always put on " isn't she just " they both replied your mother standing back in between them "well the cars here shall we go and hopefully you will find a lover boy" you knew that was a dig towards you. It wasn't the first time or when she would blackmail you about getting an arranged marriage. Not listening to their fake comments grabbed your purse from the bed following your sisters behind.

"Right, Ella, don't fool us tonight, lady. I know you don't want to be here or wear that dress or the makeup, so please, to god, act normal, " she harshly spoken inside your right ear, giving you the warning sign looking down at your feet softly playing with your hands hoping the time will go a little faster your sisters not hearing the words that your mother spoken or they will be teaming up and honestly that's the last thing you want tonight.

Getting out of the taxi, the freezing cold hair hugging you instantly pulling your jacket closer to your body, following the guards into the event everyone in line given a small face mask to cover their eyes. Your mother grabbed your hand before walking into the double doors. "Remember what i said in the car, Ella I don't want no stupid business" with gritted teeth looking around to see if anyone watched throwing your hand away from hers gritting your teeth a little but you couldn't defend yourself not here and definitely not right now walking away from your mother with your head down

sitting in the back off the hall people dancing switching from different partners every now and again your mother dancing with some guy his hand going to her bum not even bothering moving his hand rollings your eyes sometimes you did have thoughts about your mother even loving your dad or was it an act to get into this family? just like she pressured you into a young age to call her your mother a small, forgotten part that you should have said at the start of the story.

The dancers stopped stepping aside letting a handsome man step into the event your breathing stopped a little "this is the Kings son whoever he chooses to dance tonight with is the one" the girl who you whispered in your ear your eyes never leaving the curly brown hair man his eyes moving around the room suddenly stopping on yours your heart beating alot more than normal the boy moving alot closer to you reaching his hand out for you to grab "may I have this dance" connecting both of your hands together "of course" you whispered quietly

Your bodies moving in sync to the music, every person's eyes on you both your eyes falling on your family your step sisters filled with nothing but rage the brunette twirling you around "do you know what this means" he whispers in your ear shaking your head "no" looking into his eyes something about them automatically pulling you in " my dad said whoever I dance with tonight has to be the one and may I add you are one beautiful lady and something about you from many pretty girls in here pulled me in."Well, mysterious man, what's your name?" You asked a small smile on your face still watching where you put your feet "lando" the music slowly stopping both of your bodies separting "well I'm happy you picked me" lando grabbing your hand "Shall we grab a drink" moving you towards the bar the next song slowly coming through the speakers the people going back to the dance floor.

"Whose them people looking at you like they're about to kill you?" lando nodded over towards your family. You didn't need to look over. You knew exactly who he was talking about "My sisters and my mother" you softly replied taking a small swig from your drink " they hate me and everything I do dosent go by there standard's so when you asked me to dance they know now they're lower than what I am" Lando nodded "your mother" lando spoke "why is her face completely different to them though" "Because she won this is her dream and she didn't care which sister as long as one of us did it" playing with your glass lando nodded understanding "your safe with me now" stroking your back giving you some sort of comfort "thank you" you softly spoke.

Quicker the night started quickly the night ended most of the time you did stay with lando the best you can to stay away from your family not wanting the fakeness from your mother but you knew you had to go with them "my farther said we need a family dinner tomorrow 2pm sharp" lando came to you passing on his fathers words "sorry my farther blunt always have been always will" laughing a little "you don't have to say sorry I understand my family are quiet the same " Lando kissed you on your cheek "ill see you tomorrow" giving you some sort of flutters in your stomach.

© pacifierbby works

a/n this is going to be a part series hope you enjoy reading it

[ghost-in-the-hall]

Fall For Me (Poly! Sleep Token x Fem! Reader) - Part IV

Happy Halloween everyone!! I'm so happy I get to share this all with you today, I was really hoping to get out an update for Halloween 😂😂 I hope you all enjoy, I love reading everyone's comments, thank you so much!! If you would like to be added to the tag list please let me know!!

WARNINGS: None, a fluffy evening with III

Thank you as always to @spookyghostjelly for beta reading, you're amazing and I love you so much ❤️❤️❤️

Part III - Part V

My Masterlist! ~ AO3 Link!

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You stuck close to II's side as you made your way up to the front of the store. Who you assumed was IV peeked out behind III's shoulder, the taller man ushering him to the front. "He's very excited to meet you, he's just a bit nervous." II chuckles. "He has a tendency to get a bit worked up but I promise he's very nice." You step closer to him, a shy smile on your face. He bends down slightly, bringing his face a lot closer to yours as you lock eyes. His gaze was a lot softer than the others but still gave you that same warm feeling in your chest as he studied you.

"It's nice to finally meet you." He smiles, a cheerful tone in his voice. "You guys were right, she is really pretty." What followed IV's statement was a mix of throats being cleared, eyes being averted, and Vessel quickly trying to change the subject.

"I see the two of you got a lot done already, what else do you need help with?" You giggle at their flustered states.

"It's nice to meet you too, IV. Everything just needs to be put away, III's been a very big help." He straightens up proudly at your compliment. You sat on the counter, the four of them rotating to keep you company while the others worked.

"I told you, you just take it easy tonight. We'll handle it." Vessel chuckles as you complain for what must have been the millionth time about how you should be helping.

"Well if you all insist on doing this at least let me cook you dinner." You counter.

"Maybe I'll take you up on that." He smirks slightly before going to help the others. Noticing you were alone prompted IV to jog over.

"Do you mind if I sit with you?" He asks sweetly. You move over, patting the spot next to you. He hops up with ease, even sitting down he still towered over you. "Your store's very organized." He comments, looking out to the other three as they worked, his heels bumping off the counter as he swung his feet slightly.

"Thank you, I try to run a neat ship." You giggle.

"I'm sorry if calling you pretty earlier made you uncomfortable." He shoots you an apologetic and almost bashful expression.

"It's okay." You smile, nudging his shoulder slightly. "I'm happy you finally came by, now I've officially met the whole crew." You joke causing IV to laugh. The four of them finished up quickly, before you knew it you found yourself smiling at the whirlwind of energy that filled your apartment.

"You need any help?" III asks as he leans against the counter.

"You've done more than enough, just relax." The two of you exchange a soft smile. "Also, thank you for fixing me up earlier." You return your focus to what you were cooking, hoping III wouldn't notice your slightly flustered appearance.

"No problem. How's the hand?" He asks as he holds out his own, wanting to examine it himself.

"Barely even feel it." Your breath freezes in your lungs as his fingers ghost over your skin. You glance up at him through your lashes. His blue eyes focused intently on the bandage he was readjusting. His gaze slowly trails up your arm to your face, your heart beginning to hammer in your chest.

"You have something just," he points to the spot on his own face. You attempt to wipe it away a couple times before he chuckles. "Would it be alright if I got it?" You nod. III's warm hand cupped your cheek, his thumb slowly dragged across your skin. "There… beautiful." You couldn't help but blush, your expression causing III to breathe out a laugh as his eyes crinkle in a smile. You jumped slightly as the timer on the stove went off. III reluctantly pulled his hand away, you trailed after his touch, already missing the warmth he provided. "I'll let them know the food's done." He says before disappearing into the other room. It was nice having company for once. Instead of you having dinner alone, your dining room was filled with excited conversations and loud laughter. As you cleaned up that night you almost didn't want them to leave.

"Thank you for having all of us for dinner, that was very sweet of you." Vessel says kindly.

"It's the least I could do after all the work you guys did today." You smile.

"We're happy to help. You've been nothing but kind since I met you. If there's anyone we'd want to help, it would be you." 

"This apartment hasn't been this lively in a long time," you muse with a hum. "It was a really nice change." 

"Well… I have a feeling that this," he vaguely motions to your apartment. "Is going to be happening a lot more often." He laughs as he starts to head out of the kitchen. 

"Vessel?" He pauses. "Did you ever figure out why you think we were fated to meet each other?"

He shakes his head with a small smirk, "no, but I'm starting to get a pretty good idea." You trailed behind him as he re-enters your living room, the hushed whispers of the other three coming to a halt immediately. Vessel eyes them all with a knowing expression. "Alright, we should probably get out of your way. (Y/N), I will see you tomorrow." He bows his head slightly as he heads for the door. II and IV both say their goodbyes and follow him outside, leaving you alone with III.

"I'll be right down." He calls after them. III towered over you in the doorway, looking down at you with intoxicatingly beautiful blue eyes. He leans down to bring him almost face level with you, his forearm resting against the wall as he leaned in close. "Can I take you somewhere tomorrow night? Just you and me?" Despite how confident he was coming off you could hear the slight nervous tremor in his voice.

"What did you have in mind?" Excitement radiates off of him at your response.

"There's a drive-in I saw the other night, it looks like they have some sort of monster movie marathon tomorrow night… I think we'd have fun." You hear II call for him from outside.

“I’d love to go.” His hand slips into yours, tugging you the slightest bit closer. His thumb ran over your knuckles as his gaze trapped you in place.

“Goodnight, doll.” He smiles before suddenly pulling away. “Quit your yelling, I’m coming!” He calls down the stairs to an annoyed II. You couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face as you watched them drive away. You grew nervous as the end of your shift ticked closer. Vessel and III slipped into the store right before closing as usual, III giving you a casual wink but not saying a single word. As they both stood at the counter his eyes kept meeting yours, a flustered smile finding its way to your face. The bell rings as Vessel exits the store, III quickly leaning in to whisper something to you. “I’ll be back in about an hour.” He says with a smile before hurrying out after Vessel. You wrapped your jacket tightly around you as you stood outside in the brisk night air. His truck rumbled up in front of you, he immediately jumped out to greet you.

“Hey III.” He sweeps you into a tight hug.

“You ready?” He asks excitedly. You nod in response, he takes your hand as he opens the passenger door of the truck for you, helping you inside. The worn leather seat shook in time with the truck's engine, the cab lit up in a soft yellow glow from the radio. III slid into the driver's seat, his eyes flashing to you as a soft smile lit up his features. He noticed you rubbing your arms, still looking perfectly content despite the weather.

“I brought a blanket in case you get cold, the heat in the truck doesn’t work that well, but I promise I’ll keep you warm.” He chuckles, your cheeks immediately growing warm at the statement. He fiddled with the temperature in the truck for a moment, nothing really changing before he gave up. He groans in annoyance, pausing to think of a solution. He looks over at you, eyes trailing over your much smaller form. He holds one side of his jacket open, beckoning you closer with his free hand. You slid closer to him, his arm wrapping around your shoulders as he pulled you into his warmth. "There, how's that?"

"This is fine." You stutter out, trying your best to hide your flustered state. You found yourself relaxing into him, his thumb rubbing your shoulder languidly, both of your eyes trained on the road ahead of you as you wound through the collage of vibrantly colored leaves. "Thank you for asking me to come with you." You suddenly pipe up. 

"Thank you for coming with me." He responds softly. "I was honestly a bit worried to ask you."

"What? Why?" You ask in a tone of disbelief, a small laugh lacing its way into your words as you slowly start to relax.

"Some random man in a mask comes up and asks you to spend time alone with him-"

"Well you're not some random man in a mask, III." You cut him off, both of you sharing a laugh. You lean your head on his shoulder, "besides, I enjoy your company… it's just nice to have someone that I want to spend time with, I guess." You glance up at him with a coy smile.

"Well if it's any consolation, I think you're pretty great and I want to spend time with you too." You giggle as you feel him nudge your side. You pulled into the drive-in, the teenager in charge of admission was too interested in their cellphone to pay much mind to the man in the mask before them.

"You're all set, man." They wave the two of you through as they take the cash, not bothering to look up from the screen. You pulled in to find the lot nearly empty, a few cars sporadically parked as far away from each other as possible.

"Lucky us, we get a private showing." You say in a giddy tone.

"I'm sorry I can't go get you popcorn, Vessel already didn't want me coming to somewhere so public as it is." You were about to assure him that it was fine, if anything you could always run over to the concession stand to get the snacks, but III never gave you the chance. "Excuse me, doll." He leans over your lap to retrieve something from the floor, his face hovering centimeters from yours, you pressed yourself back into the seat. You weren't uncomfortable being this close to him, but the warmth from his body, the smell of his cologne, you were having trouble thinking. He grabs a backpack from the floor of the truck, setting it in his lap before pulling out various snacks you had witnessed him purchase earlier in the day from your store. You can't help but smile as he lines up each kind on the dashboard. "I wasn't sure what kind of candy you liked so I grabbed a few different ones."

"You're so sweet, thank you." Your eyes meet his, making you feel like all the air has been sucked from your lungs.

"I just wanted to make sure you had a good time." He explains softly. He reaches out, carefully taking your hand in his. 

"How could I not? I'm here with you." The night was perfectly still around you. The faint crackling of the truck's old radio and the slight chill from its sputtering heater were lost to you at the moment. The only thing that mattered in your mind was III; how warm his hand felt wrapped around yours, how your heart fluttered in your chest as his attention dropped to your lips. His head dipped slightly, his warm breath pushing through the mask to fan over your skin, his fingers nervously fidgeting with the edge of the black fabric. You squeezed his hand, letting him know that, whatever was about to happen here, you welcomed it. He hooked a finger into his mask, beginning to pull it away from his face when the speakers suddenly blared to life, startling you apart. Your hand pulled away from his, folding then neatly in your lap as both of you stared straight ahead at the screen. "I'm sorry-"

"No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to make things weird-"

"You didn't." Both of you fell silent at your reassurance.

"Can I still hold you? It's nice having you close." He admits bashfully. You nod, leaning into his side. He rests his cheek on the top of your head, his arm sliding back around your shoulders. The two of you sat completely engrossed through every movie; holding his hand in yours as the intense music swelled, giggling at the cheesy yet adorable special effects of 1930's cinema, the evening culminating with you struggling to stay awake as you cuddled into III's chest on the ride home. You sat up and stretched with a groan as you pulled around the back of the store. III's gaze darted anywhere besides you as he fidgeted with his seatbelt. "I had a really nice night with you." He smiles.

"I did too." Your hand slips into his, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Maybe, next time, I can plan something." His eyes finally meet yours.

"Next time?" You could hear the excitement laced in his tone. "Yeah, that sounds great." The two of you sat there for a little while longer, neither of you knowing what to say, his thumb rubbing gently over your knuckles.

"I should probably head in." You say reluctantly. "Goodnight, III."

"Goodnight, (Y/N)." He responds. As you go to get out he gives your hand one final squeeze, bringing your attention back to him. "Wait, can you… this is going to sound really strange, but can you close your eyes?" You nod, keeping your hand in his as you allow your eyes to slide shut. You heard the soft shuffling of fabric before a warm pair of lips pressed themselves to your cheek. The kiss was very brief, you barely had time to process what had happened before it was over. But, it still managed to leave you feeling so warm. A flustered giggle fell from your lips as you finally registered the kiss, squeezing III's hand. "You can open them." You turn to find him smiling under his mask, memorizing the adorable expression on your face. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight." You let your eyes wander over his face one last time before getting out of the truck. You jogged up the stairs, fighting with your keys for a moment before managing to unlock the door. You wave down to him as he pulls away. You lean against the door with a sigh as it shuts behind you, absolutely giddy over the fact you could still feel III's lips lingering in your skin. Thinking of the night with him your mind wandered back to the time you had spent with II, the soft glances and hushed conversations that caused your heart to thrum with anticipation. How you currently found a spark between you and both of these men. Groaning, you card your hands through your hair as you shuffle deeper into your apartment. There was nothing you could do but wait to see what tomorrow would bring.

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Tag List: @spookyghostjelly @herripinkle @thepoisonedchalice @saturnhas82moons @wingsofeternitysstuff @creamwhxre @itsyagirl-snowflake @themultiverseofmars @bookishpenguino @m0cha-bunny @coreofpleasure @madsthenightowl @dangerkitten1705 @rainy-darling @shad0wcast @amara-among-the-stars @venuswinnyix @dontpercieve-me-pls @mustluvecho @the-hole-in-terzos-shoe @jumpcauseimfroggy (I think that's everyone, if I missed you, you'd like to be added, or you're one of the few who's @'s didn't work {I can't figure out why that happened} please let me know!)

[youronlylie]

hello people in my phone

BOONE head cannon list, just a mix of stuff that'll probably change later ( THERE WILL BE MORE ) 1/?

• He undoubtedly was ripped/heavily worked out being in the ncr, after moving to novac and loosing his wife he undoubtedly lost a lot of muscle but...guys he still is literally like beefed.

• He cannot fucking cook for shit, he understands what shouldn't be put in your body but from there he has no clue.

• Going off of cooking, he has strict times where he eats, like routine from the ncr.

• For some reason he strikes me as a guy who really enjoys fruit whenever he can get his hands on it.

• Cannot tolerate any sort of spice.

• Smells very mettalic, sweaty, like man must.

• Has a soft spot for cats.

• 1000% is not bald, just shaves his head as he probably prefers the look.

• I feel like with a romantic partner, since he isn't one much for talking his love language would be physical touch or gift giving, I could imagine him seeing stuff he knows they'd like and saving it for later, excited to see how they'd react.

• He would definitely have a special place in his heart for fantasy movies, he doesn't seem to be able to express himself well and I feel like the creativity of something like lord of the rings would get him going.

• I seriously cannot pick so I'll include both, he is either an extreme cuddler with a romantic partner or on very rare occasions, he's just terrible at expressing emotion.

• If the courier and him are something like romantic partners he'd definitely never be able to sleep, often awake staring and listening for noises, waiting for the next cascade of legionares but it never happens and he eventually learns that.

• I don't think he'd ever get married again unless it'd be over 20 or so years in the future, it's a type of commitment that I don't think he could mentally handle whatsoever unless he is totally over Carla.

• I definitely do think boone could find love again in another person, he's scared and alone, fearful for any sort of attachment.

• 10000% has really really nice man hands, like large hands with nice fingers.

• Is definitely tall but not close to arcade tall, 6' ish at MOST, I just feel like looking at his build and concept art that he is definitely a tall man.

• Secretly really has a thing for drawing whenever he can, especially when he was nested at novac, sitting up top the dinosaur scribbling stuff on old receipts or whatever else it helps him get his emotions and thoughts out.

• irl he would be so patriotic it's not even funny, like he'd go all out for fourth of July but is the somber type so he'd cook hot dogs and whatever else then sit in the corner and watch everyone else.

• Has a thing for memorizing features, very very very intuitive and will remember almost anything you tell him.

• He is so the type of guy to enjoy snow, like yeah he'd probably be kinda pissy for a bit but if you pushed his buttons enough I feel like he'd mess around with the courier.

• He absolutely like no doubt has nightmares, like the ones where you erupt in cold sweat and your throat is sore.

• If he does sleep like ever, along with nightmares he grips the sheets, rolls around a whole lot, mumbles. In the ncr he was the total opposite, stone faced, layed straight and slept some what peacefully until later on in his ncr years.

• Yearns for someone, even platonic, to just sit beside him, no words and scratch his back and kinda just touch him lightly. I don't think he'd cry but it's something I could imagine would bring him close to tears.

• He absolutely probably finds almost everyone annoying, like, he just is done with everything and doesn't give two shits about what anyone has to say unless the courier puts some sense into him.

• Really disagrees with gambling, just doesn't like it.

• Wishes he had a nice farm house, out somewhere away from everything, where it has everything he needs and could be away from absolutely everyone. ( of course after extracting revenge on the legion )

• He wants to learn how to play guitar, either he has tried and is horrible or has just never gotten the chance, I have a feeling he'd really be into (irl) like classic rock or something smooth.

• Cannot look at people with features his wife had the same, down to personality or looks.

• Absolutely dreads deep down without realizing going back to novac when the courier disbands him.

• He would like having books read to him, he's a listener not a reader, likes hearing people's voices just not his own.

• At a point probably had a nickname for his rifle, something like Beth or something that was a joke between him and Manny.

• Manny 1000% at a point tried hinting to boone or even confessing his love for him, either the point never got across or they got over it together. ( somewhat ish at a point )

• In all reality I play him out to be a really sweet guy, which I can imagine and he can somewhat tend to be but he ultimately really doesn't care, he'll kill in order to get what he wants ( so be it revenge or whatever else ) even if he isn't necessarily fond of it.

• At a point, consumed by guilt he forgets what Carla looks like and that eats him up inside, like the teeth gritting soul crushing ache for revenge, and a year or two leads him to completely forget her complexion.

[midnightsunnyday]

Whips, Cuffs, And Edible Thongs? (Part One) '*•.¸♡ ♡¸.•*'

A/N: so does anyone (over the age of 21, obviously) browse adult toys with their friends? Is that just me? Well, yesterday my friends and I went to a toy shop for the hell of it and laughed at the improbably large and adorably small um, "items" they had on display, and in between our playful banter, for some reason I got the crazy thought to make a headcanon about it.

Warnings: obviously NSFW and MDNI. Mentions of various kinks, sex toys, and cursing. MC is in a polyamorous relationship with all the brothers btw. Definitely a crack headcanon.

*MCs overly dramatic monologue begins*

It was a risk, coming here alone, yet the reward would be worth the treacherous journey. I left the House of Lamentation under the cover of dusk, dawned in my best disguise. I stayed low, keeping shadows close. I snuck through alleys, crept down streets, jumping, paranoid. I could trust no one. Rely on no one. For this was a mission I must tread alone.

Finally, my destination was in view. The shop was not unlike the others surrounding it, except for the black and pink sign offering something a bit more...stimulating. I grabbed the handle, pushing slowly, only to be washed in a flood of pink neon and the scent of roses.

"Welcome to Cleo's Circle, hun. Tell me, what's your pleasure?"

MC: um, well you see, it's kind of my first time here. Not my first time in this kind of store, but for demons. Not that there's anything wrong with being a demon but I um...I'm just a bit embarrassed.

"Oh sweetie, you just hush those silly fears. Now, I'm not too keen on human culture, but this is the Devildom. Things like shame and sin are like a tick on a six-horned goat's ballsack."

MC: so...worthless then?

"You got it, sugar."

MC: ok, well in that case *looks around* I think I'd like to look at--

Asmodeus: --everything you've got in stock!

MC: fucking...Asmo? What the hell are you doing here? 

Asmodeus: *gasps dramatically* honestly, it's like you don't even know me! Are you really asking why I, Asmodeus, Avatar of Lust, would patronage a sex shop?

MC: hmm. Fair point.

*clicks her tongue* "Asmo."

Asmodeus: oh, well if it isn't my favorite little kitty Mynxie.

Mynxie: you know, I didn't realize that "I'll call you later" meant six months from now.

Asmodeus: oh Mynxie, you just have to understand. When one is as renownedly known and loved as me you can't possibly recall every single, little lover you've had, right? 

Mynxie: that right, huh? Well in that case, I also might fail to account for that little 80% discount at checkout and charge your ass full price.

Asmodeus: *gasps* you wouldn't?

Mynxie: oh, I would.

MC: maybe I should come back some other time. 

Mynxie: oh no, don't go! See what you've made me go and do? You're making my customers uncomfortable *clears throat* Forgive me for mixing business with pleasure. All are welcome and made to feel comfortable here in Cleo's Circle. As a sexual education succubus and proud business owner, it is my sworn duty to ensure it.

MC: wow. Those are...some words you just said. Well, then I suppose I'll look around.

Mynxie: if you need anything just ask.

MC: ok. And actually, it's probably best that you're here too, Asmo. I actually wasn't sure what to do.

Asmodeus: oh sweetie, of course! Why didn't you tell me you wanted to explore your kinkier side sooner? I would've gladly shown you every single thing you needed to know. Oh, but um...just so you know, this isn't one of my usual outings.

MC: what does that mean?

Asmodeus: so...promise you won't get mad, ok?

MC: why would I get--

Mammon: --sup.

MC: FUCK.

Mammon: oh no. Ain't none of that happening while I'm here.

Beelzebub: hey, MC. Oh. Is that candy?

Belphegor: Beel, no.

Satan: so this is why you were ducking behind every dumpster in the Devildom. For a moment I thought you were mimicking a frightened raccoon.

Leviathan: *in a very convincing announcer voice* By day they're an average RAD student just trying to survive, but by night they're a crime-fighting, bondage-wearing vigilante saving the day with whips...and love.

Mammon: this ain't one of the plots to one of your low-budget hentai movies, Levi!

Leviathan: oh? And how do you know what hentai is, hmm?

Belphegor: looks like he got you there, Mammon.

Mammon: s-shut up!

MC: please don't have Lucifer. Please don't have Lucifer. Please don't have Lucifer.

Satan: be careful. I heard that if you chant his name five times he'll appear and lecture you to death.

Mammon: but nah, that buzz kill ain't here. Went to some fancy upper-echelon party with Lord Diavolo.

MC: thank Diavolo.

Satan: indeed.

MC: so then why are you all here?

Mammon: invite only. We may be avatars, but Lucifer is the avatar. Pff, whatever. I'm way cooler than him anyway.

Belphegor: plus, we saw you sneaking around and thought hey, that looks like a fun way to spend one's Saturday. Let's follow them.

Satan: but we didn't expect you to end up...here. Even so, why hide such a thing from us?

MC: because it's embarrassing! Why would I want you all with me buying sex toys?

Mammon: cause we're fun?

Belphegor: because it's hilarious?

Asmodeus: because we can help you find a good one?

Leviathan: that and it's not really that embarrassing.

MC: huh?

Asmodeus: we're demons sweetie, not prudes. We wouldn't judge you for this.

Beelzebub: what if we all brought something? That way, no one feels embarrassed.

Mammon: um, Beel. You realize what you're asking, right?

Mynxie: well, this is all good and heart-warmin' but are y'all gonna buy something? You're crowding up my store and frankly scaring the poor dear.

MC: thank you, um, Mynxie?

Mynx: it's just Mynx. Mynxie if you're naughty.

MC: ok, so then Mynx, I appreciate your consideration, but...I'm ok with them here. 

Mynx: are you sure, hun? Cause I can kick them out if you need your privacy. Avatars or not, I know my way around a metal pipe.

MC: I'm sure. They can stay.

Asmodeus: yay!

Mynx: ok then. Let me know if you need any help. As for you all *pulls out a pipe and slams it on the counter* no funny business.

Everyone: yes ma'am.

Mynx: that's madam. Now, y'all be good, ok?

[cosmicstarlatte]

You ARE The Father! Pt.2 (Obey Me!)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

->Click here for [Part 1: Demon Bros]

After getting back to the human world you realized you were pregnant. You decided to keep it a secret your whole pregnancy. After having the baby/babies for a few weeks, you finally decide to tell your baby daddy.

»Characters: Dateables

»Tags: Unplanned Pregnancy, Female Reader, Fluff and Angst, Certified Simeon Simp, Just a Smidge of Humor, Half-story Half-bulleted style

»Notes: I really hope you guys like this one, it felt so good to finally write part 2. 🥺♡

Diavolo:

Separating from him to go back home after the program was difficult but you decided it was for the best at the time, for him and the realm. It was heartbreaking and you might've regreted it a little. Anyway when you realized you were pregnant with his child, you were nervous to tell Diavolo about it. He already had so much on his plate everyday. You didn't want to bother him with appointments and other things. He had a whole realm to take care of after all. But you also knew you couldn't keep the secret forever (especially because what if your baby needed special demon care?) You finally call him one day weeks after birth.

"What exactly... are you saying...? I'm a father...? And you kept this from me!? I'm on the way!"

Understandably upset with your decision to keep it a secret from him but ecstatic you gave him a child

A family...his own little family...oh his heart ♡

Still felt guilty, did you not know how much you mean to him!? How broken he was and how much he loved you!? He would've taken care of your every need and been there the second you told him!

He arrived only minutes after the call and alone (He dipped so quick without telling Barb, oops!)

His son was so tiny in his arms! The baby shifted into demon form!

Teared up because he resembled him so much, same horns and wings!

Kissed and cuddled the heck out of you two

"You two will always come first. You're both my everything. Don't ever doubt that. And...we handle everything together, okay?"

He proposed with the ring he never got to give you 🤧

He moved you guys into the castle the same day and Barb lost his shit but in a good way

He noticed his son was a happy giggly demon but with a biting problem, especially when upset

Barbatos:

You wondered if Barbatos knew but ultimately decided he didn't. After all, he would have said something by now. You felt horrible for keeping the secret but you knew he had a duty of serving Diavolo; which helped run the Devildom. Barbatos would have helped you, you knew in your heart he would. You just didn't want to worry him while on the journey is all. Finally when everything was settled, you give him the call.

"Understood. I will visit shortly."

You didn't see the way his eyes widened at the news but he believed you and was well on his way to you after the call

He felt quite guilty and upset that you did something so grand, all alone

Nevertheless he still loved you and was excited yet nervous to meet his baby

The first thing he did when he saw you was kiss your forehead before holding his son

The baby shifted and he gasped at the miniature him, he was absolutely in love and even shifted into demon form himself

"The two of you mean the entire world to me. I feel our future is very bright. I vow to always love and protect you both."

He had called Dia and Luci to explain his absence

Stayed a few days to bond with you two (he grabbed a Go-Bag before leaving, butlers must always be prepared!)

Later moved you two into the castle to a very excited uncle Dia

He noticed his son was particular about his milk

Simeon:

You really struggled with the decision of letting him know. You were scared of the consequences he would face. You decided to keep it a secret as much as possible but one day he requested a video call when regular calls weren't enough anymore. You looked very much the same and everything was going great and that's when his daughter started crying in the background. Simeons' heard the cries before in past calls and to his knowledge you babysat frequently.  He understood you had to go check. You didn't realize he could see the baby when you picked her up, you thought your back kept her hidden from view. He immediately knew. There was no doubt that was his baby girl. He questioned you about her and you tried to deny it but ended up confessing. You couldn't lie to him anymore.

"I'll see you two soon."

He was highly upset but thought about it more and knew why you did it

He didn't mean to put you in that position and ended up being more upset in himself

He loved you so much and hoped he could make it up to you

He hoped you could forgive him for not coming sooner but he had something to do first before seeing you two

He found Luke and chatted with him normally; he told him what a great angel he was and offered a bit of wisdom

He hugged the young angel for the last time

"Luke...I'm sorry and I hope you forgive me."

He knew that left Luke confused after such a normal conversation but Simeon couldn't bear to explain everything

After telling Michael what happened and being banished from the celestial realm, he finally made his way to you

Yes he was hurting from the loss but there was no doubt in his mind and he had no regrets overall

When he arrived and held his daughter, she glowed and he teared up

"You're an angel alright, a beautiful one."

You cried for him and he reassured you that everything will be fine, he was excited for his new family and he had no regrets

"I would do it all over again, and again, and again.♡"

He noticed his daughter loves falling asleep to his stories

Solomon:

You didn't keep it a secret from him actually. There wasn't really a reason to nor would you be able to hide it from him in the human realm.

"Me? A father?"

Was shocked for a few days, he never thought he'd see the day that would happen

He was happy for the two of you of course but it all seemed surreal

Was supportive throughout the pregnancy and tried to find ways to make it easier for you

He tried cooking more and you begged him not to

He nearly fainted at the news of twin girls

On the due date;  all the books he read didn't seem like enough preparation

He teared up when you crushed his hand during labor

Oh he was in love when he heard the cries and even more when he saw they looked just like him

"You girls are going to run this world!" "Solomon."

"Right. WE'RE going to run this world."

Published a book called Dad Jokes Through the Centuries

Solomon: Family Man Extraordinaire ™️

He noticed his daughters seemed drawn towards his magical objects than their own toys

Also:

⬦You might also like: MC Feeling Insecure

[nanamis-bigtie]

nonsexual acts of intimacy ↬ reacting to the other one crying about something

❧ kusakabe atsuya x gn!reader | cw: pre-relationship, mutual pinning, story takes part in a bar setting but there's no mention of alcohol ❧

It's been more of instinct than a conscious decision, Kusakabe must admit as he's lingering behind the door, hand clenched on the handle. He sprinted to his feet right behind you and followed—but now, once he knows why you left the party so suddenly, his confidence popped like a balloon and faded.

Part of him is glad it's not sickness, part gnaws on his conscience and thrashes his mind from the inside. What is he doing here? He's never been good with crying people; he should turn back and call Nanami or Iori… Does he even have tissues on himself?

But the sight of your slumped back and curled shoulders, shaking in that characteristic rhythm of sobbing, clenches his heart with pain almost dragging a cry out of him too. It should be his chest you should hide your face in, not your hands, out there in the cold, leaning over the railing in front of a bar.

Maybe if he wasn't such a coward and finally pushed the matters further than courteous coffee and snack dates after work—

Kusakabe scratches the back of his head and gnaws on a profanity pressing to his tongue. If he did A, there needs to be B, or else he won't be able to call himself a man anymore.

"Okay there, Y/N?" He tries to sound casual, peeking through the open door, his coat thrown over his arm at ready. It's just a smoking break, not a rescue mission, and it doesn't matter that he quit smoking two years ago. 

You jolt in place, wipe your eyes with both hands at once, your lips trembling slightly as you try to pull a smile, "Yeah, all good. Just needed fresh air."

Horrible liars, both of you.

He leans over the railing, close to you but keeping the distance suit for a coworker. 

"You sure you don't need to call it a day?" Trying to push through awkward silence, he observes you with the very corner of his eye. Not obviously staring, just casually monitoring the situation, like a good colleague should, right? "I can call a taxi—"

"I'm okay." At least your voice doesn't tremble anymore. "It's been… A rough week. Just needed to cry some. Five more minutes and I'll be back." 

You don't have any coat on, Kusakabe realizes and almost slaps himself for not doing so sooner. He should have grabbed yours, not his, if he really wanted to be useful. What is he going to do now, stay there with you awkwardly and dressed or return to the warmth, leaving you alone midst cursed December?

Just a coworker wouldn't—

"Here." He wraps his coat around your shoulders, his heart fluttering when your gazes meet. For a mere few seconds, he can't feel the cold anymore and the noise of the bar behind your backs seems as sweet as a rippling stream.

"And you—" You accept the offering and clench your hands on its skirts. Even if he were about to freeze, he would have no heart to take it back from you, no matter what you say.

"I just need one thing." Praying his hands don't tremble as much as he thinks they do, Kusakabe reaches into one of the pockets, soon fishing a lollipop out of it. "Here, for you."

He taps your nose with it, a stupid, childish impulse—but for the first time tonight you smile for real, soon even laugh a little, "Thanks. Thanks a lot. For checking on me and…everything. Thanks, Atsuya."

A second earlier he thought the sound of your laughter was the prettiest sound he'd ever heard. Oh, how wrong he was.

Even your laughter couldn't compare to the way you say his name.

a/n: I'll die on the hill that Kusakabe's iconic lollipop is a remain of smoking addiction. big thank you to my server peeps for support with my first time at trying writing him & to @clumsyraccoon and @lemonszesty whose Kusakabe writing served as inspo to reach for his drabble out of order! EDIT: it's been brought to my attention that Kusakabe's antismoking lollipop is canon via databook. I'll leave the og note cause the coincidence is just funny lol

[greenbergwrites]

missing alpha daddy james dearly. would love to hear your thoughts on how he and stevie would approach their heat/rut, or oh my i would kill to read their bonding

This one's been in my head for like 3 days straight and I have like 4 other things I need to be working on, BUT I WROTE THIS INSTEAD

--

Like, let’s say in this ‘verse that Alphas are just a step above feral when they’re in rut. They’re so clouded by instinct and need that they can’t even remember their own names.

Alpha Daddy Bucky, he would be afraid to subject his baby to that. His perfect boy, who’s so fucking innocent and sweet—too sweet to handle an Alpha in rut.

Maybe an Alpha normally goes into rut 2-3 times a year. When the symptoms first start, you can take medication that will suppress it, but that’ll only work for up to 3 cycles. Any longer and it’ll be dangerous.

So at the start of their relationship, Bucky decides that’s what he’s going to do. The first year of their relationship, he never goes into rut.

And then that year is up and the next time he feels the symptoms start, he knows he has to go through with it. Steve has grown so much in that time. He’s flourished, a boy now confident in his needs and his place, but he’s still too sweet.

Bucky makes the necessary arrangements. Makes sure that everyone knows what’s coming and that they’ll need to guard his den and Steve to make sure his baby stays safe while he’s indisposed.

He doesn’t tell Steve. Steve will want to sacrifice himself to Bucky’s needs and Bucky won’t let that happen.

And then his rut comes.

He loses all sense of self, everything down to his name, until the only thing left is the animal inside.

The Alpha paces his den. He’s naked and sweating, his cock heavy and aching between his legs. He’s furious.

He wants to mount. To fuck. To knot.

There are toys littering his den just for that, but he hates all of them. He tried, but none of them satisfy the need clawing at his insides.

He needs someone with him. Someone to submit to his needs. Needs a mate. His mate.

Does he have a mate? He can’t remember, but the idea makes his cock pulse, precome dripping from the tip.

A mate would satisfy him. The toys don’t have a scent, they don’t submit. They just are. 

He breaks more than one of them in his anger. He breaks everything, trashing the room in a fit of rage that stems from having so much energy—so much hunger, so much need—and having no place to put it.

It could be mere hours he spends alone. It could be days, years, a millennia. Time has no true meaning in his need, because every fucking second without relief is a cut underneath his skin.

Somewhere in the monotony of his pain, the door to his den opens and a little figure slips through.

The Alpha stops, breathing hard as he glares at the intruder.

It’s an Omega. A very small, very pretty Omega, barely older than a pup. The boy wears a comically large shirt tucked into a small skirt, carrying a teddy bear underneath one arm. The shirt has the Alpha’s scent on it—it’s his shirt, he’s sure of it, and his mouth goes dry. 

The Omega shuts the door behind him, turning to glare at the Alpha.

“You are in so much trouble, Daddy,” he says in a furious whisper. “I’m so mad at you.”

Daddy.

Is that the Alpha’s name? It must be. The moment it falls from the pup’s lips, his gut tightens, his aching cock throbbing fiercely. His body likes that name. He wants to hear it again.

Still, the pup’s glare and his stance, fists perched on his tiny hips, is too much a challenge for an Alpha in rut.

The Alpha glares harder, snarling a warning at the pup. This is his territory, his den. He’ll abide no challenges here.

The boy blinks, cocking his head to the side. His hands leave his hips, coming up between them, palms out. He steps forward cautiously.

“Okay, Daddy,” he says softly. “I’m sorry.”

Before the Alpha can snap at him again, the pup folds himself neatly at the Alpha’s feet. The Alpha barely has time to notice how pretty he looks kneeling there, his tiny little skirt fanning over creamy pale thighs, before the pup takes the Alpha between glossy pink lips.

The Alpha groans, panting heavily as he watches the pup bob on his cock. The boy’s posture is relaxed, his scent contented, his warm, wet mouth gentle and hungry in equal measure. His gaze is lowered respectfully, never meeting the Alpha’s. 

It isn’t sex. It’s submission. The pup is submitting to him, totally and completely, and for the first time since the haze of his rut took over, the Alpha settles.

It’s dangerous for anyone to help an Alpha through their rut, because this is what’s required. Total submission. An Alpha in rut craves to assert dominance. 

The Alpha palms the back of the pup’s head, his fingers sliding through silky smooth hair.

“More,” he commands, his voice rough and gravel-deep as he tilts his hips. The hand on the pup’s head growing heavier.

The pup has offered submission with his warm mouth, but will he continue to submit when the Alpha dominates him? Or will he fight, challenge the Alpha?

He doesn’t challenge. He goes easily, sinking further onto the Alpha’s cock with a weak little moan. The Alpha groans again, his head tipping back as the pup continues to submit.

This is what he craved, what he needed. This is why the toys did not satisfy him, why they were an affront to his senses. Toys cannot be dominated. They cannot submit.

The Alpha’s chest rumbles with a deep, satisfied growl. His chin touches his chest, heavy-lidded gaze on the pup at his feet.

His knot aches. He’s going to put it in the pup’s mouth. Come with his knot behind the boy’s teeth and his cock in that pretty, slim throat. He’ll make the boy take it.

But not yet. The boy looks so pretty at his feet, and some distant part of him knows that if he rushes it, he’ll hurt the pup. He doesn’t want to hurt the pup.

So instead, he stands there and accepts the pup’s submission as his due, and tells himself that if he’s patient, he’ll be rewarded.

He doesn’t know how long they’re like that before the door bursts open.

The Alpha looks up, glaring at the two men hovering in the doorway, but they’re not looking at him.

“What are you doing in here?” One of them hisses frantically. “Come back here, you can’t be here, the boss will kill us.”

The Alpha’s hackles rise. They want to take the pup away from him. 

They won’t get him, not this pretty boy who submits so easily. If they try—if they even think of touching the pup—the Alpha will kill them both.

Before the Alpha can answer, or the rage can take over, the Omega pulls away from his cock. He turns his head to glare at the two men.

“Go away,” he says, somehow firm and pouting at the same time. The Alpha’s cock throbs at the sight of that plump lower lip glistening in the low light. “I’m not leaving Daddy, he needs me.”

Daddy. That name again. God, his body likes that name. His cock bobs, smearing precome over the Omega’s cheek.

“He said—”

“I don’t care what he said,” the Omega says, glaring. “I’m not leaving my Daddy.”

Irritation flares inside the Alpha. The boy had been so pliant before, but now he’s dangerously close to challenging again and it’s purely the fault of the interlopers. 

The Alpha forces two fingers into the pup’s mouth, hooking behind his teeth and pushing down until those pretty lips are open again. He guides the pup’s face back to him.

“Submit,” he demands roughly, all but shoving his cock back into the pup’s mouth.

He lets go of the boy’s jaw only to palm the back of his head again, gripping him tight and keeping pressure there so the pup can’t pull away again.

He pushes his cock deep and repeats, “Submit.”

Blessedly, the pup does.

This time, the Alpha rolls his hips to meet the boy’s eager mouth, fucking himself good and deep. The pup clutches at his thighs, moaning every time the Alpha’s cock hits the back of his throat.

He wanted to wait. He wanted to savor the pup’s submission. But he’s been challenged too much and the interlopers—they want to take the pup.

The Alpha pushes his cock into the boy’s throat and knots his mouth.

The boy shivers at his feet, making weak little noises as his throat convulses around the Alpha’s cock. His eyes roll into the back of his head and a moment later, the scent of his release reaches the Alpha’s nose.

God, the little pup likes it. Likes to be dominated so completely.

He’ll be lucky if the Alpha ever takes his knot out after this.

When the peak of his orgasm as faded, the Alpha looks back to the door. The men haven’t left.

He sneers.

“My knot is in his throat,” he tells them. Well. Close enough. “Will you try to take him now?”

They know they can’t. Even if they were brave enough to get so close—which they clearly aren’t—trying to take the pup now would hurt him.

He gives it a beat, letting that knowledge sink in, before he growls, “Leave.”

It’s clear the interlopers don’t want to do that, not without the pup, but they have no choice. They leave.

They come back, but they never get the boy.

Not when the little one is astride his hips, the Alpha’s cock buried deep in that tight, lithe little body. The pup’s shoulders hunched and the bear still under his arm, one hand braced against the Alpha’s chest as he hangs his head and cries.

“I don’t like it this way, Daddy,” he whispers. “Don’t make me.”

The Alpha knows. He realized that the moment he laid on his back and pulled the boy on top of him, could smell it in the little one’s scent.

The Alpha grips his small hips tight and demands, “Submit.”

The boy does, riding his cock as he sobs. The pup loves it and hates it, that much is clear. The Alpha only loves it. Loves the distress on the pup’s face, the tears dripping onto his bare chest, the tight hole milking his cock so perfectly, but most of all, he loves the pup’s submission. His obedience.

Distantly, he hears the door to his den open. This time, it doesn’t open all the way, just enough for more voices to float through.

“How the fuck did he get in there?”

“I don’t know—”

“You were supposed to make sure that doesn’t happen, you idiots—”

“God, the boss is going to kill us.”

“Ya think?”

“We have to get Steve away from him before he gets hurt, keep watch until you see an opportunity.”

The Alpha is irritated again. Not just from the intrusion, nor the distraction from the perfect picture of a distressed pup on his cock.

No, he’s irritated that they think he would hurt the pup. This lithe, delicate creature, so fine-boned that it would take no strength at all to break him. 

He needs to dominate the pup—needs the pup to submit to him, totally and completely—but he would never hurt the pup. Just the idea threatens to soften his cock, which should be impossible in his state.

He gathers the boy to him, rolling them until the Alpha is on top of him now. He draws himself out of the pup’s hot, tight body before snapping his hips, burying himself to the hilt.

The pup comes, but still the Alpha doesn’t stop.

He rubs his body along the boy’s, sliding their skin together until their scents mix completely, fucking him hard because that’s what his instincts demand.

“Submit,” he murmurs to the pup, licking up the boy’s tears. “I won’t hurt you, pup, I just need you to submit.”

The boy makes a soft little noise, lithe fingers gripping the Alpha’s face and bringing him down for a needy kiss. When their lips part, the pup looks up at him with open, naked trust.

“I know, Daddy,” he whispers. “Even if you don’t. Even if they don’t. I know. You would never hurt me, not even like this.”

And what can the Alpha do but knot the pup after that?

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 2 (Foxtrot)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on Dancing with the Stars to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 15.7k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence, past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Week 2 Quote:   “What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?”

Katarina’s POV Our first week of rehearsal had gone well after the initial awkwardness dissipated. I admit, I was extremely nervous about how our introduction was going to go and didn’t really know how to handle it. I had hoped Dieter and I would get a chance to talk before filming, but that didn’t happen. I was surprised by how effortlessly he pretended it was our first-time meeting, like we hadn’t had a somewhat confrontational interaction the day before. He had put on a good show, but I could still sense the tension rolling off him as we did our quick filming session. 

I knew that we needed to discuss what happened, so as soon as we were alone, I bit the bullet and brought it up to get it out of the way. I apologized for my behavior. I had to because the things that I had said to him were eating away at my conscience. My reaction wasn’t fair to him. Was he part of the problem? Yes. However, he wasn’t the cause. He was dropped in the middle of the situation just as much as I had been. He wasn’t intentionally trying to cause trouble between me and Alec. It was Stacia and Joe who were hoping that something would develop from their plotting. Dieter was just doing as he was told.

I could tell by the look on Dieter’s face that what I said had hurt him. I had a feeling that he didn’t believe me when I said I didn’t mean it. I hadn’t intended to tell him about my father, but at that moment I felt like he needed to hear it. I wanted him to know that I was sorry and that I wasn’t like everyone else who had been doubting him. He was willing to be open with me about his sobriety, so I felt like I needed to share something personal with him as well. We were going to be partners after all. That meant we needed to learn to communicate effectively and trust each other. Starting out the way we had would’ve caused us to fall apart quickly if we didn’t right it as soon as possible.  

Dieter seemed to accept my apology and appreciate what I shared about my father. He relaxed almost immediately, which led into a teasing banter between the two of us. He ended up being nothing like I expected. He was very respectful and put in a lot of effort to learn everything I was teaching him. I had a feeling he would be a decent dancer, but I was surprised at how quickly he was picking things up and how good he was in executing the moves. For the first time in a long time, I felt like I might actually have a shot to make it to finals. I just had to make sure I stayed on top of my game to help him get there. I also had to make sure I didn’t allow myself to be attracted to the man. 

The thought of finding Dieter attractive never crossed my mind when I was told he would be my partner. I had seen pictures of him before rehab and he usually looked like a mess. However, I had to admit that the man did clean up nicely. His sweet temperament and eagerness to learn didn’t help the situation. His puppy dog eyes and golden-retriever energy made it hard to not like him. There were times when his large brown orbs would look up at me through his lashes because he was unsure about something, and it would literally take my breath away. After spending up to seven hours with him every day last week to go over the basics of ballroom dance, I couldn’t deny that I found him to be alluring. 

I found myself brushing thoughts of Dieter aside often. I couldn’t allow myself to think about him like that because I had Alec. Though, Alec did have me in a constant state of frustration that left me questioning our relationship. He had been even more insufferable since I started working with Dieter, becoming more possessive than he normally was while also being less forthcoming than normal about how things were going with his own dance partner. I couldn’t help the distrust that I still felt toward him. I had a feeling this season of the show was going to be our final test. It was either going to strengthen our relationship or break it. The way it stood after the first week, the tighter he tried to hold on, the further away he was pushing me. It was adding a lot of stress to my personal life, which was quickly causing my time with Dieter to turn into an escape and that concerned me.  

We were now into Monday of week two. The week that things really started kicking off for our grueling schedule. The agenda for this particular Monday was fairly light, physically, since Mondays would normally be a live show day. Instead of the show, we were shooting promo material, which meant all the dance couples had photoshoot sessions lined up. Dieter and I were scheduled for 11 AM, but we still had to go in early for hair and makeup. The entire cast is required to use the show’s hair and makeup team which is set up in a large room inside Television City Studios. There are stations lining the perimeter of the room, each having a large mirror surrounded by lights, a counter stocked with all the needed utensils and products, and a barber chair. 

Dieter and I both arrived around the same time and grabbed some terrible coffee from Craft Services to get us through the morning, making small talk as we headed toward hair and makeup. As soon as we entered the room, we were whisked off to stations on opposite sides of the space. He was seated directly behind me, which meant we could see each other in the mirrors. It was hard not to stare, given he was right in my line of sight. I quickly noticed him doing the same thing. When our eyes would meet in the reflection, he would often give me an exasperated look as the hair stylist struggled with his tresses, then smile. I smiled back as I watched them tame his unruly curls into a more sophisticated style. They had gelled it back, but left a hint of curl to it. I couldn’t help thinking how handsome he looked as I watched him stand and head toward the wardrobe department.

Once my ridiculous amount of makeup was applied and my hair styled into an elegant low bun with sparkly diamond-like accessories, I made my way to the wardrobe department as well. They confirmed that Dieter was my partner before going to pull a couple of dress options that would coordinate with what they had put him in. I could hear Dieter laughing loudly in the back near the fitting area as one of the tailors, who I didn’t know, came to the front and told the costume coordinator behind the desk to update Dieter’s measurements because his shoulders were too broad for what they had put him in, causing him to pop a button off the shirt already. A look passed between the two women that said they were clearly smitten with the actor. I figured he probably charmed them as soon as he walked into the room. I had already noticed that he had a way of doing that. 

As one of the costumers led me back to the changing rooms, I passed by Dieter standing in front of a mirror, bare chested as the tailor from earlier handed him another black button up shirt to try. He gave me a cheesy smile, “I’m already causing trouble. I’ve busted out of my shirt.” Fucking hell, he looks good. I was taken off guard by the sight of him, and his comment. The best I could manage was a quiet chuckle as I continued toward my destination. His broad shoulders, toned chest, and sculpted arms were now seared into my brain. He had a slim waist but was a little soft around the middle. I found it to be more attractive than Alec’s overly chiseled abs. Yeah, I’m definitely going to hell. I felt hot and flustered suddenly as I took the black and silver Latin style dress from the costumer to try on and made my way into a changing room.  

After I was dressed, I walked out to the fitting area so the tailor could look over my attire. Dieter was now fully dressed but had left several of the top buttons on his shirt open and rolled the sleeves up - which wasn’t unusual for the guys on the show. However, I was finding those small areas of exposed flesh to be incredibly distracting. It was ridiculous because it wasn’t like I hadn’t seen his forearms during rehearsals when he wore t-shirts. I had to force myself to look away from his reflection as he stood nearby chatting with the tailor about the fit of the shirt in the shoulders. I almost snorted as she recommended he continue to leave several buttons open to give him room to move freely. He didn’t say anything in response, but I did notice a slight upward twitch of his left eyebrow. A small smirk formed on his lips as the tailor smiled up at him. Smooth. I can respect her game. I looked away quickly as his eyes briefly wandered over toward me. 

Once the tailor stopped fawning over Dieter, she moved to stand in front of me, eyes roaming over me to check the fit of the dress. She reached to tug at the fabric around my breast, pulling it tighter and adjusting the straps. I rolled my head back and chanced a glance in Dieter’s direction to find him watching with a furrowed brow. The tailor backed away, “Do you want sticky inserts or do you want me to pin it back?”

I sighed, “Inserts are fine if that’ll work.” She nodded before disappearing to the back. Dieter cleared his throat, his face now looking slightly flushed, “I’ll uhhh, wait for you up front.” I gave him a tight smile as I tried not to laugh at his embarrassment over watching the tailor grope at me. After doing this for 13 years, I was used to it. A few minutes later, the tailor, who I later learned was named Amy, returned with a new set of stick-on bra cups. Luckily that helped solve my issue and she sent me on my way so that we could get to the photographer on time. 

As I emerged into the front waiting area, Dieter gave me a mischievous smirk, “Did you get everything sorted out.”

I looked down at my chest, cupped both breasts in my hands briefly before looking back up at him with a blank expression, “Yeah, I think so. They aren’t popping out now.” His eyes widened before he burst out laughing. That hadn’t been the response he was expecting. I chuckled as I turned him to face the exit and pushed him toward it. 

When we walked into the room where the photographer was set up, my eyes were drawn to Alec and Lana being photographed. They were full of giggles and smiles as they posed for their promo shots. They weren’t doing anything inappropriate, but there was something about the way they kept glancing at each other that made my stomach churn. I’m being such a fucking hypocrite right now. I had literally been devouring Dieter with my eyes a few minutes prior, so it wasn’t like I had room to speak. Then again, I wasn’t the one who had a history of cheating either. I felt Dieter lean in next to me, “Hey, you ok?” 

Snapping out of the glare I was surely throwing their way, I glanced up at Dieter, “Yeah, I’m good.” I gave him a tight smile which didn’t seem too convincing. He looked back toward Alec and Lana, his face shifting as he studied them. I wondered if he could see what I saw between them. There was definitely chemistry there. A moment later, I felt his hand on my shoulder as he gave it a small reassuring squeeze. It seemed like he was trying to communicate something without words, but I didn’t know what to make of it. 

Alec and Lana were finished soon after our arrival. Alec seemed surprised to see us once he finally looked in my direction. He made a beeline toward Dieter and I, wrapping his arms around my waist and kissing me on the cheek, “Hey baby, you look good.” 

I gave him a confused smile. He wasn’t usually this touchy while we were in work mode. He glanced over at Dieter and reached his hand out to introduce himself as my “soon to be husband”. Oh…it’s because of Dieter. He’s getting territorial. For fucks sake. Dieter didn’t skip a beat, immediately turning on that Bravo charm. Alec didn’t seem to buy it, but that didn’t stop him from making small talk as he sized Dieter up. The two men were of similar height, but Dieter was much broader and thick, while Alec was leaner and more sculpted. There was no contest there. 

In my periphery, I noticed Lana giving me the stink eye from the other side of the room. Well, that tells me all I need to know about her. I awkwardly moved to extract myself from Alec’s hold, noting that the photographer was ready for us. As we listened to the photographer’s instructions, I could tell Dieter’s energy was off. I glanced back in the direction we had come from, realizing Alec was still standing there with his arms crossed over his chest. His intimidating gaze now focused on us. The photographer politely suggested a few poses for us, we complied but I could tell Dieter was hesitating when it came to touching me.

After Alec left the room, the energy shifted. Both of us eventually relaxing enough to have fun with it as I instructed him into several less intimate dance poses. We spent a lot of time laughing over his failed attempts. Once our hour was up, the photographer seemed happy with the shots he had taken. Even commenting that we had been one of the more fun couples that he had worked with so far. Dieter took the credit for that, citing that he was just a fun guy to be around. I couldn’t help but to roll my eyes at him. At that point, we were finished for the day. We quickly got changed and said our goodbyes so we could go home to rest and prepare for what was to come. 

Tuesdays started with production meetings. Today we would be having our first one to go over the details of our routine - the dance, costumes, and music. I always hated these meetings and felt like it was something that could have been given to us in writing. However, I suspected these meetings served another purpose. It was an opportunity for Stacia and Joe to see how the dancers and celebrities were getting along. A chance for them to learn about our relationships and see where they could throw the gasoline next. Knowing that was most likely the real reasoning caused my frustrations to grow. It made me feel anxious in a way that had never been an issue in the past because I knew they were looking to manipulate us in any way they could. I knew I would need to be vigilant and make sure we were not playing into their games. 

I had debated warning Dieter about Stacia and Joe and was still considering it while I ate my breakfast. As I was finishing up, my phone pinged with multiple texts from Alec with an absurd number of questions about my schedule for the week. I let out a controlled breath as I read through them - rolling my eyes before throwing my phone down on the counter without responding. I didn’t have time for that, nor did I want to deal with it. Instead, I moved toward the bathroom to shower and get ready for my day. 

Dieter’s POV My Tuesday had a ridiculously early start. My upcoming schedule was so packed my assistant had to work hard to squeeze in appointments with my therapist wherever he could. So that’s how I ended up in Dr. Smith’s office at 7 AM. Of course, the topic of the day was how things were going with my dance partner and rehearsals. Dr. Smith seemed to zero in on the topic of feelings when I made a comment about how weird it was being so physically close to someone for so long - that it almost felt inappropriate and uncomfortable at times. She immediately asked me to expand on that. After a few minutes of struggling to put it into words, she finally spoke up to share her thoughts. 

“Dieter, we’ve talked about your aversion to intimacy before. I think that’s where this is coming from. I don’t know much about ballroom dancing, but I do know it involves a lot of intimacy and you are not used to that.” 

 I shook my head, “But it’s not like that…it’s not sexual.” Not physically anyway…my thoughts are another story. 

She chuckled, “Intimacy isn’t just sexual. You can have intimacy with friends and family too. It can be emotional, intellectual, creative…there are so many ways to connect with someone that doesn’t involve sex. It’s something that quite frankly, you’ve been starved of and avoided most of your life. So, I can see why it would make you uncomfortable and why you would have the urge to shy away from it.” 

I snorted and spoke before I realized what I was doing, “But I don’t wanna…” Fuck. I caught myself too late.

Her brow furrowed, “You don’t want to what?” 

I sighed, “I don’t wanna shy away from it. I actually enjoy being around Kat. It’s just a little…intense, I guess. It makes me feel anxious and something else…that I don’t really know how to explain.”

Dr. Smith tilted her head slightly as she took in my words, “Dieter, are you attracted to her?” 

Yes. “No…I mean she’s nice looking. I can’t deny that, but she has a fiancée. It’s just…s-she treats me…like a person. She doesn’t look at me and see a fuck up. She’s giving me a chance and not just automatically assuming that I’m gonna fall back into old habits. You know what I mean?”

Dr. Smith nodded, “So, you’re developing a relationship with her that isn’t based on sex or favors.” 

I rubbed at the deep crease between my brows, “Yeah, I guess so. I suppose it’s probably the closest thing that I’ve had to an actual friendship in a long time…but I mean, it’s only been a week. So, I’m not even sure if I can call it that…but it does feel like more than just working together if that makes sense? We laugh, we joke, we vibe. I guess it does feel like we have some type of connection….and…I find myself wanting to…please her?” I cringed as soon as the words left my mouth, “NO! Not that. Umm, I guess…do a good job is what I mean. I don’t wanna let her down.” 

We stared at each other for a beat, Dr. Smith had a thoughtful look on face as she digested my words. “Dieter…this might be a good thing for you. I want you to work on being open with her. Develop the friendship between the two of you. I think it would be good practice for you, emotionally, to connect with someone in that way. It sounds like she’s willing to build a friendship with you and give you the benefit of the doubt. I know you’ve been seeking that…and it would be good for you to have a friend that’s supportive of your recovery. You don’t have a lot of that right now…and it’s important.”

This is a bad fucking idea. “Ok…yeah. I’ll try.” 

I left that therapy session feeling more on edge than I did before I had gone in. I was feeling a lot of conflict and confusion about my feelings toward Kat, which was ridiculous because I hadn’t known her for that long. Sure, I thought she was physically attractive and normally that alone would’ve been enough for me to pursue her for sex. Aside from the fact that she was taken, I actually didn’t want to ruin what we were potentially building for a quick roll in the sack. I wanted more. I enjoyed spending time with her, and she made me want to be better. I found myself wondering what it would be like to spend time with her outside of the dance studio - doing something as simple as getting lunch or stopping into a bookstore to find a book together that we could discuss after reading. I had never wanted something like that with someone. It was both scary and exciting. 

I soon found myself parking outside Television City Studios for our first production meeting. I now had a fluttering in my stomach that was almost foreign. As I sat rolling up the sleeves of my dress shirt, I decided it was nerves related to the impending live show in less than a week's time. The production meeting made it feel more real and imminent. 

Walking into the main entrance, I spotted Kat waiting in the lobby. Her eyes locked on me as I approached. She had an odd expression, her eyes seeming to roam over me before she met my gaze with a smirk on her face.

“What’s wrong, do I have too many buttons open or something?” I asked, jokingly.

She laughed nervously as she shook her head, “No. Your buttons are open just the right amount…That shade of blue looks really good on you.”   

I smiled as my face heated from the compliment. I leaned my head downward and swiped my thumb across my bottom lip before glancing back up at her. Is she blushing? She looks flushed. 

She cleared her throat, “Umm…before we get called in there, I wanted to warn you about Stacia and Joe. They like to…try and…”

I smirked, thinking back to my first interaction with them, “Create drama?” 

Kat huffed out a laugh, “Yeah…that. I have a feeling they’re gonna try and manipulate things with us and with Alec and Lana. It’s all about ratings with them.” 

I nodded, “I picked up on that during our first meeting. I figured. Don’t worry about it. I’m not gonna play into whatever it is they’re trying to do.” 

She had a sad smile on her face now, “Thank you. I appreciate that. At least two of us are on the same page.” 

Two? What does that mean? I opened my mouth to ask but was interrupted by a production assistant who was sent to lead us to the meeting space.

Once we entered the conference room, we were greeted with a smiling Stacia and Joe. Kat and I took our seats on the opposite side of the table from them, careful not to sit too closely together. I could tell they were studying us as soon as we walked through the door, looking for their angle. Stacia spoke first, “So, how is everything going with you two? Did you have a good first week of rehearsals?” 

Kat and I gave each other a knowing look before I responded. “It’s been going good. Kat is a great teacher…I seem to be picking things up quickly.”  

Stacia and Joe stared at me for a moment. Stacia’s brow arched slightly, like she was waiting for me to say more. When I didn’t, she finally smiled, “Well…that’s good to hear. We want to make sure you two are getting along ok.” 

Kat leaned forward and tilted her head slightly, “Is there a reason that we wouldn’t?” 

Stacia laughed and shifted nervously in her seat, “Of course not…just making conversation.” 

Well, that’s interesting. I had a feeling that Kat made Stacia uncomfortable, maybe even intimidated her some. Kat did seem to be giving off dominating vibes, which was fucking hot. Stacia cleared her throat as she pulled a couple sheets of paper out of a folder and slid them toward us. It appeared to be sketches for our costumes. They were both completely black. Kat’s gown was long and flowy with a very low back and front. 

“Your first performance will be the Foxtrot to the song Fever. You’ll be doing the behind the scenes filming on Friday this week. Do you have any objections to the costume sketches?” 

I glanced over at Kat, ready to agree with whatever she said since I wasn’t sure what she was comfortable with. 

Kat glanced down one last time, “I’m fine with them, Dieter?”   

I shrugged, “I’m good if she is.” 

We sat in an awkward silence for a beat, staring at each other. What the hell is this?

“Is there anything else?” Kat finally asked. 

Stacia nodded, “No. I guess not…unless you guys have anything to discuss?” 

Kat and I both shook our heads with confused expressions. 

Stacia eyed Kat, “Have you met Lana yet? I know she was excited to meet you.”

The energy around Kat shifted, her eyes darkened, and her jaw clenched at the question. Fuck. Please don’t react to that. “We did yesterday.” I said, speaking before I had time to think through my response. “She seemed very nice…Alec too. We had a lovely chat during the photoshoot.” I forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look fake. We need to get out of here. “Well, it was nice seeing you two again. We need to get to the dance studio to start working on our routine. I need all the practice I can get.”  

I looked over at Kat, who was giving me a grateful smile as she moved toward the door. We said our goodbyes as we exited the room, walking in silence until we reached the lobby. Kat turned to look at me, her brows furrowed as she chewed on her bottom lip.

“What the fuck was that?” I asked, completely confused by the interaction. 

“I dunno, it was bizarre. I guess they’re trying to figure out how to stir up drama between the four of us. I can guarantee it won’t be coming from either of us.”  

I arched my brows, “What do you mean?” 

She shook her head, not saying anything as she reached for her phone to check the time. “Our rehearsal space should be open soon. I’m gonna run home and grab my bag. I forgot it.”

I nodded, “Yeah…I’ll meet you there.”

That was an odd response from her. It made me wonder if something was going on with her and Alec. I could sense tension between them during the photoshoot but couldn’t exactly work out the cause of it. Whatever the reasoning, I felt like Stacia was aware of it and was actively trying to work it in her favor for ratings. That did make me sad for Kat because she didn’t deserve it.   

Kat moved to leave, but stopped, waving her phone as she turned to face me, “I guess we should probably exchange numbers…” 

“Oh, right. Of course.” I quickly typed my number into her phone. She followed up by shooting me a quick text with a waving emoji so I would have hers, then we said our goodbyes for now. 

I decided to grab an early lunch before heading to the dance studio. I briefly wondered if I should have asked Kat if she wanted anything. I was tempted to text her but didn’t want to start abusing my texting privileges already. She probably only wanted me to text if I was running late or something anyway. 

As I sat in the parking lot of the dance studio, eating my burrito, a hand smacked against the driver side window. It startled me, nearly causing me to drop my food. I hit the button to lower the glass and was met with Kat’s laughter as she moved to lean against my car. 

I sat smiling at her until her giggles finally subsided.

“Thanks for that. You were very close to cleaning the inside of my car.” 

She smiled, “I would have too, because it would’ve been my fault. I’m sorry. Totally worth it though.” 

I rolled my eyes at her, taking another bite. 

She leaned down, nearly sticking her head inside the car, “That looks good, where’s that from?”

“That Mexican place on Spring Street. I’ve got another, you want it? They’re fucking huge. No way I can eat it.”  Which was the truth. I wasn’t expecting them to be so big. She scrunched her nose, “What kind is it?” She’s too fucking adorable when she does that. 

I reached to pull the foil wrapped burrito out of the bag and held it up to her, “Cheesy steak and rice.”

She snatched it out of my hand, “If you insist. I’m never gonna turn down food.”

I laughed at her, “Good to know. Next time I’ll get your order.”

She moved to lean against the hood of my car as I got out with what was left of my burrito in one hand and my soda in the other. I leaned against the hood beside her and set my drink down between us as she started eating. A quiet moan escaped her lips causing little Bravo to involuntarily twitch in my pants. Fuck. That was hot.

“Ugh, this is so good. I’ve never been to that place. Clearly, I need to go.”

All I could muster in response was a nod. We ate in silence for a few minutes before she reached for my drink, tilting it forward and raising a brow at me as if to ask if it was ok. I nodded again and she took a quick sip before setting it back down. Once I finally got my thoughts in check, I was surprised by how at ease she seemed around me today.

Kat licked at the juices running down the side of her hand. I laughed at her and reached into the car to grab some napkins, handing them to her as she spoke, “Maybe we can start grabbing lunch on Tuesdays after our production meetings. We could get a head start discussing our routine since we have this odd break before our scheduled studio time.” 

“Yeah, I’m cool with that.” More than I should be. I was giddy at the thought of spending time with her outside of rehearsals. 

Her eyes narrowed on me as I finished up the last of my food, “So what does Dieter Bravo do in his free time?”    

I gave her a small smile as she stared at me with a soft gaze, “These days, not a whole lot. I moved into a beach house in Santa Monica about six months ago. I mostly just hole up there with my plants, music, and art supplies. I’ve pretty much had to change my whole life around since I got out of rehab.”

She had a sad smile on her lips now, nodding as she swallowed her latest bite. I had a feeling she knew what all that meant. “Plants and art supplies? So, you grow things and paint?” 

I laughed, “Yes…and I do mean houseplants. Don’t get any ideas.” 

She chuckled, “The thought didn’t even cross my mind.” She paused, rolling back the wrapping on her burrito, “It’s unexpected and cool, actually. I love art. I don’t have an artistic bone in my body, but I do love looking at other people’s work.” 

I raised a questioning eyebrow at her, “Dance is an art form…”

She rolled her eyes, “You know what I mean…painting, drawing…those kinds of things.”

I nodded, “Well, anyone can paint. So, don’t sell yourself short on that. You should give it a try. It’s a good stress reliever.” 

She shrugged, “What about the plants? Why plants?” 

I chuckled, “I don’t fucking know. That’s a fairly new obsession. I guess…I like learning about them. They all have different needs. There’s something about watching them grow and thrive from the care I’m putting into them. They also add a little extra something…makes the house homier.” I shook my head and laughed. Geez, I sound ridiculous. 

She smiled at me, “What’s wrong? Are you embarrassed by your love of plants?” 

I could feel my face heating up, “No…I mean, maybe. It’s a little weird, don’t ya think?”

She shook her head, “It’s surprising, but not weird. I kind of love it. It’s sweet.” 

Her eyes sparkled as she gave me an endearing smile, which caused knots to form in my stomach. She moved to take another drink from my soda, and I suddenly found her lips wrapping around the straw to be a little distracting. I had to force my line of sight elsewhere. 

She groaned as she stuck the last bit of the burrito in her mouth, “Ugh, I’m probably gonna regret that. Good thing we have some time to digest while we talk about our routine.” I laughed as I reached into the car to grab my bag so I could change once we got inside. 

After I got changed, Kat found our song and played it. We listened in silence while we did some basic stretches. After the song concluded, she sat quietly with her legs stretched out in front of her, thinking. She let out a controlled breath as she rubbed her hands down her face.  

“Ok, so…the foxtrot is probably one of the more difficult standard dances to learn. We haven’t gone over it yet. It requires a heel lead and gliding steps that should appear effortless and elegant. It’s a box step similar to the waltz, but the timing is different…it’s a mixture of slow steps that take up two beats and quick steps that take up one beat. It’s a slow, slow, quick, quick movement while maintaining a closed position with your partner. Let’s start with the basic steps, then we’ll start adding the flare to it.” 

I sat on the floor in front of her, listening intently, nodding along. She moved to stand, reaching out her hands to help pull me up to my feet. We spent a good amount of time working on the basic steps. She started with having me do the steps alone so she could watch my movements. It took a little longer than I would have liked to get the timing right, but I eventually caught on. Once I had it down, we assumed the closed position and began moving together. Initially her proximity was distracting, but I was able to move past it and focus on our movements. After we mastered the basics moving both forward and backwards, she added turning box steps to the mix.   

Now that I had the footwork down for the foxtrot, Kat wasted no time jumping in to craft a routine for us. I mostly watched her as she talked through ideas, occasionally stopping to work out the steps and movements on her own. She asked for input, but I didn’t feel confident enough to really have an opinion on any of it at this point. Overall, it was a light day as we worked through our plans. The afternoon flew by, and our rehearsal time was up before we knew it. 

As we were leaving, Kat warned me that we would be hitting things pretty hard for the rest of the week, so I needed to prepare myself. I laughed it off, but honestly, I was terrified. I was nervous about the increased physical contact with her. I had done well ignoring it so far, but I knew once we started getting into the routines, the contact was going to increase exponentially. It wasn’t just the fact that I found her to be incredibly attractive, but also because physical closeness was something that I never did with people that I didn’t have an active sexual relationship with. Even in those instances, it was about pleasure and nothing else. This was going to be weird for me and I was having a hard time wrapping my head around it.

When I got home that evening, I had a quick dinner then grabbed my tablet with the thought that I would look up some foxtrot videos on YouTube. I figured it might give me some ideas so I could have input on our routine since Kat insisted that she wanted me involved. I made my way out back to sit on a lounger next to the firepit - allowing the sounds of the ocean to lull me into relaxation before I went down my YouTube rabbit hole. 

I was honestly shocked at the range of routines I watched. Some were very serious and professional while others favored the more sensual side of the dance. I could feel my stomach fluttering at the thought of dancing like that with Kat. Sure, the idea was slightly arousing, but also imagining her looking at me the way these dancers were looking at each other caused my heart to skip a beat. It was a new kind of feeling that I couldn’t really find the words for. 

At some point, a video of Kat popped up from a previous season of the show. I watched it a couple of times, studying her face and the way she moved with her partner. It all felt very cold, like she was just going through the motions. She seemed focused on trying to get her partner through the routine rather than feeling the emotions of the dance. I eventually scrolled down to the ‘suggested videos’ section, finding a few of Kat and Alec from professional dance competitions that were several years old. In these, Kat was different. It was clear that she and Alec had chemistry on the dance floor. The way she moved her body was hypnotic and the way she looked at Alec was almost carnal. I couldn’t imagine her dancing like this with me. The thought of it made me dizzy and anxious. I wouldn’t be able to handle that level of emotion from her.  

Sighing, I set the tablet down on the ground beside me. I closed my eyes and leaned my head back against the lounger, trying to get that visual out of my mind. After a few minutes of contemplative silence, I sensed movement near my feet. When I opened my eyes, I was greeted by the furry intruder that refused to leave my yard. He sat for a moment, staring at me as if to ask if he could approach me. When I didn’t react, he hopped up onto my lap and meowed loudly in my face. I sighed, finally giving in to his cuteness and scratched behind his ears. He wasted no time crawling up my chest to rub his head against my beard, “Alright little dude, don’t get too excited. This isn’t gonna be a thing.” 

I couldn’t help the laugh that slipped between my lips as he started purring. This fucking cat. My arms slid around his small frame and cuddled him closer. I realized he felt a little boney under all that fur. I sighed louder this time, “I fucking knew this was gonna happen. You finally got me dude…come on.” I sat him down on the ground, grabbed my tablet, and got up to walk toward the house. He followed behind me, swishing his tail. I walked through the sliding door into the kitchen in search of something for him to eat. I found a few packets of tuna in the pantry and grabbed one. When I turned around, I was met with two green eyes staring at me from the floor. I chuckled, “Please, do come in.” I grabbed a bowl and emptied the pouch into it. He waited patiently for me to set it down in front of him - immediately digging in once I did, making little growling noises as he ate. I guess I have a fucking cat now.   

Katarina’s POV As I drove home, I took the time to reflect on my day. Stacia almost got a rise out of me this morning. I couldn’t let her do that because it would only add fuel to the flames she was trying to create. It was clear to me now that she was hoping Lana would drive a wedge between Alec and me. My fear was that it was working. I could already tell he had been more distant since rehearsals started. It wasn’t unusual given our schedules, but he would usually send texts throughout the day. I hadn’t received one from him since yesterday. I could feel the hurt creeping in. However, there was also a part of me hoping he would fuck up again because it was all beginning to be too much. I wanted to give up and I wanted out. 

Then there was Dieter. It was obvious that he sensed my unease at the mention of Lana, and he jumped in to cover for me without hesitation. He was damn near believable in his response. He and I hadn’t discussed anything related to Alec and Lana in detail, but I felt like he knew there was more to it than I had shared. I had to appreciate that he didn’t try to pry for information while also acting as the supportive dance partner. 

I don’t know what it is about Dieter, but I feel comfortable with him. Even though most people would probably call me crazy for it, I actually trust him. The realization hit me this morning after the production meeting. As I drove toward the dance studio, I made a conscious decision to build a friendship with him because I felt like he really needed it. Maybe we both did. 

When I finally got home, I quickly ate some leftovers while I waited for the bathtub to fill up. I knew I needed to start taking extra steps to keep my body happy if I was going to make it through this season. I was doing ok so far - seeming to have no pain or inflammation present in my joints. I knew that could change at any time. Especially once we really got going in rehearsals. I was already dreading the Latin dances. I knew that the knee and hip pain would start quickly with those. The foot pain would come soon enough. The dance shoes always got that going, which was why I hadn’t worn any during rehearsals yet. I had planned to limit those as much as possible. After I finished eating, I took all my daily supplements that I had forgotten that morning, then got into the tub to relax. 

I found my thoughts drifting back to Dieter, remembering how the blue color of the dress shirt he had on this morning looked amazing against his skin. Then I remembered how my attention was drawn to his exposed forearms – to his tattoos peeking out and the way the muscles flexed as he moved his hands when he spoke. As the day went on, I began having a ridiculous urge to touch his hair. That started while we were outside the studio, leaning against his car. The soft waves were gently blowing in the breeze begging to have my fingers run through them. He was so effortlessly handsome and clearly lacked the confidence to go with it, which was surprising to me. 

Then my thoughts jumped to a shirtless Dieter from the day before. I suddenly felt that familiar throb between my thighs. Fucking hell, don’t go there Kat. I was tempted to let my mind continue down that path, but I knew it would be wrong. I couldn’t entertain those thoughts, no matter how good I thought he looked. Especially if I wanted to establish a legitimate friendship with him. I sighed and dunked myself under the water for a moment, hoping that would clear my head. It didn’t. I got out of the tub and went to bed frustrated. 

I awoke to the sound of pounding on the front door. Glancing at the clock, it was close to 1 AM. I sighed and got out of bed. As I got closer to the door, I could hear Alec drunkenly rambling to let him in. I was half tempted to leave his ass out there. When I opened the door, he stumbled inside, hugging me against him and almost pulling both of us to the floor.

I pushed him off me, “Alec…what the fuck?”   

He blew his beer laden breath across my face as he spoke in a slur, “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t wanna drive home. I was at the bar up the street with the guys…I can’t find my phone.” 

“You realize we have a group rehearsal in the morning, right?” 

He waved his hand at me like it was no big deal and stumbled off toward the bedroom, collapsing on the bed, fully dressed. This was a good reminder as to why we hadn’t moved in together yet. I huffed, moving to take his shoes and clothes off while he mumbled something about wanting to fuck before fully passing out. Once I got him situated, I crawled into bed and settled in for a night of restless sleep. 

Alec woke me before my alarm went off, kissing down my neck. I admittedly was still a little worked up from the night before, so I went with it. I briefly stopped him, reaching into the nightstand for a condom. He rolled his eyes in protest as I handed it to him, but I wasn’t taking any chances. He put the condom on before flipping me over, pulling my hips up to meet him, then pulling my shorts down so he could roughly take me from behind. He didn’t last long, and I got no satisfaction from it. When he was done, he got into the shower without a word. This dismissive behavior wasn’t out of the ordinary for him, but something felt different. I felt like he was staking his claim, reminding me that I belonged to him. I suddenly hated myself for allowing it to happen like that. It made me feel dirty somehow.  

After he was showered and dressed, he gave me a quick kiss on the forehead and said he would see me at group rehearsals. I nodded, watching him as he walked out of the bedroom. He seemed off, but I couldn’t figure out why. Maybe it was just a bad hangover and everything else was all in my head. 

Wednesdays were always the worst. Every week, the professional dancers did a group performance at the start of the show. I really wished they wouldn’t do these because it just added more to our plate. Luckily the first few weeks were not as bad since we still had so many cast members to take up airtime. The burden of the extra performances would increase as more groups were voted off. Eventually, the celebrities would be added to the group performances. I wasn’t looking forward to that as we progressed through the competition. Since it was the first week, this rehearsal went fast, and it was fairly easy. Alec struggled through it, clearly hung over from the night before, but I didn’t feel bad for him.

After five hours of rehearsals with the professional cast, I had to rush to grab a late lunch. I didn’t have much time before meeting with Dieter for our late afternoon rehearsal. When I arrived at the dance studio, Dieter was there waiting. He was laying on the floor, his head propped on his bag with a tablet sitting on his chest. His eyes met mine as he smiled up at me. 

“What are you doing?” I asked through a chuckle. 

He grabbed the tablet and quickly sat up, “I hope you don’t mind…but I pulled up some videos last night to get some ideas.” 

I don’t know why this surprised me. I figured he would leave most of the choreography to me. However, I loved that he was trying. He looked a little sheepish as he asked if he could show me a couple of things. I smiled and nodded as I sat on the floor beside him, mirroring the way he was sitting, with my legs stretched out in front of me. He gave me a shy smile as he turned on his tablet, “Don’t laugh, but I made a playlist and saved them.” I didn’t laugh, but I couldn’t help smiling at him. I watched as he opened the YouTube app to the ‘home’ tab. He quickly tapped on the ‘foxtrot’ playlist, but not before I saw my name in the title of a video under the ‘watch history’ section. I could feel my heart rate pickup as he glanced over at me, fighting a shy smile. 

“Yeah, I saw that…you watching videos of me, Bravo?” I asked with a teasing tone.

He shrugged, still trying not to smile as his cheeks flushed, “I watched a lot of videos from previous seasons. You may have been in one or two of them.” 

“Mmmhmm. Right.” 

He rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Anyway…I was thinking what we have so far feels almost mechanical…if that makes sense?” He’s not wrong. Dieter glanced at me; his dark eyes rounded as he took in my expression. I think he was worried it would upset me. 

I pursed my lips, “I don’t disagree with that. Thank you for pointing it out.”

His shoulders relaxed, “Ok, good. I was afraid that would piss you off.” 

I rolled my eyes, “It takes a lot more than that to piss me off. I always want you to be open about what you’re feeling. Besides, I didn’t think it felt right either. So…what are you thinking?” 

He inhaled deeply before launching into his thoughts, “Well, I think we need to add some emotion to it to start…nothing too crazy…I’ve saved a few videos. I think if we can find a good balance in the emotion and feel of all these dances it would be perfect. I don’t mind doing a little acting with it.”  

He had picked some very good examples. The first few videos showed professional choreography infused with different dance styles. The last few included a lot of acting and storytelling with the dancers' movements and were more toward the sensual side of things. During the last few videos, I could see the tension in his face. He was worried it would bother me. It didn’t of course since this was what dancing was about. I, however, was concerned about what that meant for me emotionally. It was going to require a lot of trust and a deeper connection that I usually didn’t have with my dance partners on the show. There was also the tiny issue of me finding Dieter Bravo to be incredibly attractive. 

Once the last video ended, I glanced up at him. “You're ok with doing that kind of stuff?”  

His eyebrows shot up, “I mean, maybe not that intense. Those...are a lot… but I’m comfortable with whatever you're comfortable with.”  

I nodded, surprised of his willingness to try something different. “You know…our song has sort of a jazzy sound. Maybe we can infuse some jazz elements into it?”

Dieter’s eyes lit up at that suggestion, “I’m actually digging that idea.”

“Ok…well, this dance isn’t gonna figure itself out. Let’s get going.” I stood, “We need to make sure we stretch more going forward because it’s about to get a lot harder on our bodies. You’re probably about to hate me.” 

He looked worried as I told him to lay back flat on the floor and moved to help him with some leg stretches - leaning against him to push back on his leg first with it straight in the air then against his knee to push it into his chest. He whined and groaned through it the entire time. After completing the same steps with his other leg, I had him sit up and put his feet flat together in front of him in a butterfly pose. I took the same position in front of him, keeping his legs in place with my knees and pulled him forward by his hands. He again began whining through it. I had to appreciate that he didn’t make it awkward like most people did, but it was near impossible not to laugh at his dramatic behavior. We went through several more partner stretches, both of us trying to keep it together as his dramatics increased with each new stretch. 

By the time we were done with the stretches, Dieter was already breaking out in a sweat. He gave me the stink eye and huffed as he got up off the floor, “I’m fairly certain that could be classified as some form of torture.”  

I laughed, “Stop being a drama queen. We’ve gotta keep those hips loose or you won’t make it through the Latin dances.” 

He raised an eyebrow at me, “I have loose hips?” 

I chuckled, “Surprisingly, yes.”

He smirked, “I take it that’s a good thing?” 

I nodded, smiling back at him, “It’s good for a lot of things.” I did not just say that.

“For dancing…it’s good for a lot of different dance moves. There’s umm…a lot of hip thrusting…in Latin dances, is what I mean.” Fucking hell, Kat. Shut up. 

The longer I rambled, the bigger his smile got. I could feel the heat creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. “I’m just gonna stop there. That came out so wrong.”  

Dieter laughed, “It’s kind of cute when you're flustered.” 

I put my hands on my hips and blew a strand of hair out of my face, “Just…shut up.” He snorted, shaking his head at me as I moved to stand in the center of the room. “Alright, let’s focus and get this figured out.” 

He made his way over to me, still trying to hold in his chuckles while I ignored him and moved to stand in position. I tilted my head and arched my brows. I now had my serious face on, needing to move past that minor embarrassment. “Let’s go through what we have so far. Ok?”   

From that point on, the both of us were all business. Dieter was laser focused and I found that we collaborated well together. As the minutes ticked on, he seemed to be more comfortable expressing his thoughts about the routine, however, I could tell he was still holding back when it came to physical closeness. He would hesitate anytime he had to touch anywhere outside of my arms or waist.  

“Dieter, I really need for you to get over this physical contact phobia, ok? I’m telling you now, it’s ok to touch me while we’re dancing.” 

He squeezed his eyes shut and let out a controlled breath, “I know, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’ll do better. I’m just trying to be respectful, and this kind of goes against all that.” 

I placed both of my hands on his cheeks and squished them together causing his plump lips to pucker slightly. His eyes popped open and focused on me in shock, “I promise, I’ll give you a warning before I throat punch you if I feel like you're being inappropriate…k.”  

I patted the side of his face with my right hand, then pulled away. His eyes rounded as he stared at me, unblinking, “Is that supposed to be comforting? Because it isn’t.” 

A small chuckle bubbled out as I took in his expression. His puppy eyes were in full effect. I both hated and loved when he looked at me like that. It made me feel things I shouldn’t be feeling. 

I smirked, “I’m joking, I won’t throat punch you, but I will smack you if I think it’s necessary.” 

His brow furrowed as he shook his head, snorting out a small laugh, “Oh… okay. That’s sooo much better.” 

Rolling my eyes at him, I moved to our starting position. 

“Alright, stop your whining. Let’s take it from the top with what we have so far.” 

Dieter nodded and stepped closer, setting his frame, and taking hold of me. He was still too far away. I tilted my head and narrowed my eyes on him, sighing as I stepped even closer to his front so that we were in a proper closed position. He gave me a tight smile before looking off to the left. I began counting our steps as we moved around the room in perfect synchronization until Dieter’s timing faltered. We kept going, but I could feel his posture changing. I glanced over at him and realized his jaw was tense. 

“Is something wrong?” I asked without stopping. 

He kept going, not looking in my direction as he said, “It appears we have an audience.” 

During a reverse turn, I glanced toward the hallway windows - instantly finding the cause of his disturbance. Alec was watching us. His piercing gaze made me feel uneasy. What is his fucking problem? 

“Just keep going and ignore him. You’re not doing anything wrong…box turn, then promenade.” 

Dieter inhaled deeply following through on those instructions before moving to lead me into an inside turn. As we reached the end of the choreography that we had so far, I glanced toward the windows. Alec was gone. 

My eyes met Dieter’s, “Let’s take a water break.”

He nodded before pulling the hem of his shirt up to wipe the sweat off his forehead. I couldn’t help the way my eyes raked over his exposed skin. I had to force myself to turn away from him as I drank from my water bottle. 

“Alec doesn’t like me, does he?” Dieter asked from behind me before taking a drink of his own water.

I casually turned to him, “He’s concerned about your womanizing ways. I guess he’s worried you're gonna steal me away from him or something.”  

Dieter smirked, “I mean, I would never do anything you didn’t want me to…”

My brows arched in surprise at his words. I absolutely can’t handle him saying shit like that to me. I could already feel the effects of his words and that devilish smirk pulsing between my thighs. 

Dieter was quick to add, “That did not come out the way I meant it…” He shook his head and laughed nervously as he raked his hair back out of his face, “I just mean…I respect you too much to do anything like that. Your friendship is important to me. I don’t wanna ruin it by being a dick…and I’m not that guy anymore. Besides, he should trust you. You’ve been nothing but professional.” 

Friendship...I actually kind of hate that word. A crease formed between my brows as I looked down at the floor, “Yeah, well…you can’t tell him that apparently. Just don’t pay any attention to him. He’s being ridiculous over nothing. I’ll tell him to knock it off.” 

“Hey.” He was standing directly in front of me now as I looked up to meet his gaze. His obsidian eyes were burning into mine, nearly taking my breath away. “If I’m doing something to make things harder on you, please tell me. I can tell this is causing tension between you two.”  

I gave him a weak smile, “The fact that you even exist is enough to bother him. You’re not doing anything, so don’t stress about it.” 

His lips were set in a tight line as he studied my face, taking in my words. He didn’t look convinced, but he nodded and dropped the subject. We continued with building our routine for the next hour. Then our studio time was up for the day. 

By the time Friday rolled around, we pretty much had our routine planned out. It was a ‘behind the scenes’ filming day, so we had to put up with the camera crew being in our space as we ran through the full routine to the music for the first time. We also had to periodically stop to film their interview questions. The questions were beyond frustrating - mostly focusing on our chemistry and how well we worked together. It was clear they were trying to drive a certain narrative and were not getting what they wanted from us. I could tell Dieter had picked up on it too based on the looks he was shooting my way. It felt like such a waste of our time. Once we got rid of the film crew, we managed to complete a few run-throughs with the music without error. We were both feeling pretty good about it. However, Dieter admitted that his nerves were starting to flare up as we got closer to show day. He looked vulnerable at that moment, and I just wanted to pull him into a hug. Instead, I settled for a quick squeeze of the hand and told him everything would be ok because we would get through it together. That seemed to calm him some. 

Dieter’s POV This week had gone by in a blur. I attributed it to enjoying the time that I was spending with Kat. She and I were working so well together. I couldn’t recall ever having such a positive or productive experience with someone in a work setting. We were both clearly more comfortable around each other now. She was quick witted with her banter and often kept me on my toes with her jokes. I loved that we had a similar sense of humor. During the more serious moments, we worked together with such intense focus that it was almost like we shared a single brain - often on the same wavelength and anticipating what the other was saying before they said it. She was very receptive to any suggestions I had and often praised me for my involvement with crafting the routine, which only made me want to do more. There was nothing more satisfying than seeing her face light up when she liked one of my suggestions.   

As the week progressed and the dancing got more intense, Kat was going heavy on stretches to start the day. While it was torture, the partner stretches were quickly becoming one of my favorite things to do. I made sure to bust out the dramatics just to make her laugh. God, I loved hearing her laugh. I also didn’t mind the close proximity that some of the stretches put us in. When she made the comment about me having “loose hips” being good for a lot of things I was a little stunned. Her descent into embarrassment afterward was so fucking adorable. It was hard not to wonder if she had thought about me like that. Was it a Freudian slip? This was a thought that kept creeping in when I would least expect it and caused me to think all sorts of inappropriate things. Especially when she would give me that look that was somewhere between teasing and flirting that made my dick twitch. The logical part of my brain kept reminding me of that big shiny rock on her finger. The wishful side hoped that she did indeed feel something for me. 

The feelings that I was having were very complicated and I wasn’t sure how to navigate them. Alec was adding a whole other layer to things with his possessiveness over Kat. The guy honestly worried me a little bit, so I was determined to be on my best behavior when it came to her no matter what my emotions said. I didn’t want to give him any reason to do something stupid, because my gut told me he was that type that would.   

Sunday was our last rehearsal for the week in the dance studio. We spent our hours fine tuning things with the music the best we could without hearing the live band’s version of the song. Kat warned me that we may have to make last minute adjustments during the dress rehearsal, which was stressing me out a little. It just gave more room for me to fuck something up once we got the live show. Kat seemed surprisingly calm about the whole thing. Then again, she had been doing this for years. Her confidence in me did help alleviate some of the anxiety I was starting to feel, but not all of it.

After rehearsals, we made our way to Television City Studios. It was spray tan day for the entire cast. This was one of the things that I was not looking forward to. Upon arrival, I made my way to my dressing room to get undressed down to my boxer briefs and threw on the robe that was provided. I followed the robe clad group toward a big open room where everyone waited their turn. I quickly found Kat scrolling through her phone in the far corner, away from the crowd. I went to wait with her since I hadn’t really met any of the other cast members yet. We stood chatting as Alec and Lana slowly walked down the hallway; eyes fixed on each other as they shared a smile. Lana reached out to hook her arm with his, but once he noticed Kat, he pulled away from her and walked toward us. Yeah asshole, I see you.  

Alec was quick to wrap himself around Kat, putting his body between us as he did so. Alright man, I get it. You think you own her. He attempted to make small talk but was coming off as an arrogant asshole as he bragged about how great of a dance teacher he was. Kat honestly looked embarrassed by him. As I stood listening, a production assistant walked by. I took the opportunity to interrupt Alec to ask the PA what sort of spray tan they were using. The PA gave me a look of annoyance, “What does it matter?” she asked with a rude tone. Damn, who pissed in your cheerios this morning. 

“It matters because I don’t want a bunch of chemicals sprayed on me. That shit can cause a disruption in cellular metabolic processes…it can be carcinogenic. Is it all natural?” I had a slight irritation to my tone.

Her brow furrowed, “You’re worried about a spray tan when you used to do coke, LSD, and who knows what else? Is this a joke?” My eyes widened at her response. Ok. That’s probably a fair question. 

I sensed Kat was about to say something, but Alec stopped her. I gave the PA a sarcastic smile, “Well, I’ve gotta live a clean life now to make up for all that damage I did. Humor me, please.”

The PA rolled her eyes, “Yes, we use an all-natural certified organic spray tan solution. So, you're safe from the carcinogens.” She said that last bit with a snippy tone. I should be used to being talked to like this by now, but it still pissed me off. 

“Thank you, that’s all you had to say.”  

I heard Alec laugh as he turned his back toward me to talk to Kat, effectively dismissing me from the conversation. I could tell Kat wanted to say something to me, but he was blocking her from doing so as he asked her if she was free tonight. 

Another PA with a clipboard approached me at that point to let me know it was my turn. I gave Kat a tight smile as I was led into the large room that was set up with individual pop-up privacy tents for cast members to step into to remove their robes and get sprayed. 

Once I was finished, I went directly to my dressing room. My good mood had been soured by the PA’s comment and Alec being a jackass. I sat down in the chair in front of the vanity wondering what Alec and Kat’s relationship was actually like on a good day. I didn’t get good vibes from the guy. I really hoped that he treated her ok. She deserved that.   

I was drawn from my thoughts by a knock on the door, “Come in.” 

Kat came through the door, looking behind her as she entered. I assumed to check if anyone was around to see her enter my dressing room. When she finally turned to face me, she paused, taking in my state of undress with wide eyes. I was still wearing the robe and boxer briefs. I now realized the robe was no longer closed, “Oh shit…sorry,” I mumbled as I stood from the chair and tied it shut. I didn’t care if she saw me like this, I was used to it, but I didn’t want to make her uncomfortable. 

She let out a breathy laugh, “No, you're fine. I just wasn’t expecting…that.” 

I chuckled, “Sorry, I’m used to being in various stages of undress on set…I don’t even think about it anymore. I’ll try to keep my clothes on around you.” 

Her teeth sunk into her bottom lip to hold back a smile as she continued to stare at me for a beat, eventually clearing her throat to speak, “Umm…I-I just wanted to come check on you. That PA was kind of an asshole.”  

I waved my hand, “Don’t even worry about it. I’m not.” I’m more bothered by Alec. 

She nodded, “Ok, good…yeah, don’t let that get to you. It’s not worth it.” She shifted her weight and stuck her hands in her back pockets, “How are you feeling about tomorrow?” 

Moving to lean against the vanity, I huffed out a small laugh and scratched at the back of my neck as I stared at the ugly gray stained carpet, “Honestly, I’m nervous as fuck…but…I know you won’t let me mess up too badly.”  You make everything ok. 

My eyes flicked up to meet hers. We stared at each other in silence for a moment. I felt like there was a weird electricity in the air between us. I really wanted to reach out and touch her, to hug her, but I knew that wasn’t a good idea. 

Her lips finally broke into a small smile, “Don’t worry Bravo, I’ve got you. I think you’ll do just fine. You’re better than you think.” 

She turned on her heel to move toward the door, “Well, I’m gonna head home…try and relax and get some rest. We have an early start and it’s gonna be a long day.” 

“You mean you’re not going out with Alec?” I blurted out the question without thinking, like it was any of my damn business what they were doing.  

Kat shook her head, “No, he wanted to go out with some other castmates. I’m not about that kind of lifestyle these days. I have to rest…and he knows that.” 

It made me happier than it should have to know she wouldn’t be spending the evening with Alec. I knew that I shouldn’t be having those kinds of thoughts, they were engaged for fucks sake. They were going to spend time together whether I wanted them to or not. I really needed to get my thoughts under control before this became an issue. 

I pursed my lips, nodding as I forced a smile, “I’ll see you in the morning then. Have a good evening.”

She seemed reluctant as she nodded and reached for the doorknob, leaving me alone with my thoughts.

A short time after I got home, I couldn’t stop thinking about how Kat had gone out of her way to come check on me. Most people wouldn’t bother to do that these days, not that I blamed them. I didn’t deserve anyone’s concern after the way I treated people when I was deep in my addiction. I had to make sure I didn’t fuck this up with her. I sank down into the sofa as I unlocked my phone and pulled up Kat’s number. I started typing a text message and hit send before I could second guess myself. 

Dieter: Thank you for checking in with me. I should have said that earlier. I appreciate it more than you know. I don’t have a lot of people in my life that would do that right now.

I watched as the message status changed to ‘read’. The bubbles started bouncing, telling me that she was typing something, then stopped. That happened a few more times before her response came through. 

Kat: You don’t have to thank me for that. I’ll always check in with you. That’s what friends are for.  

Seeing the word “friend” was sort of a punch in the gut, but I needed that. It helped get my head back where it should be. However, that word also meant that she viewed me as more than just a castmate, which was somewhat comforting. At least I could have a friendship with her. It was more than I had with anyone else at the moment. I decided to push all those thoughts aside and head to bed early before I lost my focus.

My alarm went off at 6 AM the following morning. After a quick shower, I threw on some gym clothes and headed to the local coffee shop. I wasn’t about to try and sustain myself with whatever it was that Craft Services was handing out. I picked up a cup for Kat too, since I now knew how she liked it. I pulled into Television City Studios parking with minutes to spare before we had to be in the ballroom to meet with the band, lighting team, and the cinematographer. We had to make sure the music was right, discuss the lighting scheme, and determine camera blocking for our performance.

As I walked in, I spotted Kat already chatting with the music director and walked over to greet her, handing her coffee over as I stood at her side. They were discussing the tempo of our song to make sure the band hit the mark with it since it had so many variations. As Kat talked, she looped her hand through my arm and gave it a squeeze. I assumed she could sense my anxiety and it did help alleviate it some. As we went through the details, I noticed other cast members starting to file in and sit around the dance floor.  

Once Kat was done going over everything with the band and lighting, Alec came over to offer her some coffee. She gave him a tight smile as she held up her cup, “I’m good, but thanks.” 

His brow furrowed, “Alright, maybe Lana will want it then.” What a fucking dick. 

I felt like he was purposely trying to throw her off her game with that comment. She watched him with narrowed eyes as he walked off toward a small crowd of cast members. I could see her jaw muscles flex before her eyes met mine, “Alright, we’re gonna do a quick run through with the band. There are 18 cameras, so they’ll work on adjusting those as we go through it. If we need to make changes, they’ll let us know. We’ll come back later for the dress rehearsal and run through it a few more times with everything in place.” 

I took a deep breath and nodded. She leaned in to meet my gaze with a small smile, “Hey, we’ve got this. Don’t worry.” 

She reached down and grabbed my hand, pulling me over to our starting mark. As the band began playing, I was already thrown off by how different the music sounded from the track that was provided to us. I think Kat could sense it as she quietly called out some verbal cues at the start. Once we got going, I was on track and made it through the routine with only a few small errors. 

Luckily, there were no last-minute suggested changes to the routine. I’m not sure if I would have retained it if there had been. We had another quick discussion with the producers about the lighting before they cleared us for hair and makeup.  

I suddenly felt like all eyes were on us as we exited the ballroom. It was a little unnerving. Kat leaned in, “Ignore them, they’re just sizing up their competition. There are pros and cons to going first.” 

I chuckled nervously, “And what exactly is a pro for going first?” 

“We don’t have to deal with a frustrated production team. Trust me, they turn into assholes real fast dealing with this bunch.” 

I laughed, “Yeah, that makes sense. How do they decide the order?” 

She smiled, “Well, I got here first this morning…”

I nodded, “So that should be our goal then? Get here first. Got it.” 

The rest of the morning was a blur. Kat and I spent hours in hair and makeup getting poked and prodded at. Luckily this time, we were seated next to each other so we could at least chat through it - mostly focusing on our routine. Once that was finally finished, we headed back to our individual dressing rooms where our costumes were waiting for us. After getting changed, we met back up outside the ballroom to go in for dress rehearsals. Kat looked amazing of course, but I did prefer her more natural look. They had slathered so much makeup and hair gel on the both of us we looked like completely different people. She joked that it was going to take multiple washings to get all the gel out of our hair. I was already not looking forward to going through that process. 

As we walked toward the dance floor for our first run through in costume, I couldn’t help but notice the amount of exposed skin Kat’s gown was showing. I realized for the first time that my hands would be on her bare skin while we were dancing. It was both thrilling and anxiety inducing. I had to quickly shove that thought aside because it threatened to completely derail my focus.

We went through our routine several more times. By the last run through with the music, cameras, and lighting in place, I was feeling more confident about everything. Kat took a minute to give me a small pep talk before she had to run off to change costumes for the group rehearsal. I had to give her credit; she had been very patient with me. She made sure to take time to explain each step of the process to help ease my anxiety. She had been very positive and encouraging as we worked through it all.  

I sat and watched the group rehearsal while I waited for my final fitting time slot with the wardrobe department. The performance was some sort of Latin style dance. Kat did amazingly well. I couldn’t take my eyes off her rhythmic hip movements as she whirled around the floor in time to the beat. I had to chastise myself for looking at her in that way, but it was hard not to. She was electric and commanded the attention of the room above everyone else. 

Stacia stood nearby, watching the performance, just as she had been for all of them so far. However, I was now noticing her occasional glances in my direction. As she was moving toward the other end of the dance floor, she stopped in front of me, “Kat is on fire today. I’m not sure I’ve seen her do this well in a while. I take it that things are going well with the two of you?”

I felt the crease form between my brows as confusion etched my face. What is she actually asking me? “Yeah, I mean…we work well together. She’s a good teacher.”

Stacia narrowed her eyes slightly at my response, then smirked, “Right, you’ve said that.” Fuck. Did I just tip her off on something? I felt like she could see through me as she turned and walked away. Surely, she didn’t think something was going on between Kat and me? I sighed and turned my attention back to the group performance, hoping I didn’t just have a serious fuck up.     

As I watched the third run through for the group, I realized something. Kat had been partnered to dance with Alec, which wasn’t surprising. What was surprising was the vibe between the two of them. It seemed different from the videos that I had watched of their competitions. Her face was expressionless. There was no longer a fiery look behind her eyes as they moved together - almost like there was no connection between them. Maybe she was just focused on getting the choreography correct. They hadn’t practiced the group routine that much after all. That had to be it, right? I couldn’t allow myself to think that it was any other reason. 

After their last run through, Kat walked off the dancefloor, directly over to me to get her water bottle. After taking a long drink, she turned to me, “We need to get to wardrobe for our final fittings. They’ll have our heads if we’re late.”   

I followed behind Kat toward the wardrobe department. She had to pop into her dressing room to grab her other costume on the way. They took us to the back as soon as we walked in. The tailor that we had worked with before, Amy, gave Kat a once over. They both seemed satisfied with her first costume, so Kat went to the changing room to switch to the black gown she would be wearing for our performance. While Kat was changing, Amy turned her attention to me, “Well, your buttons don’t seem to be hanging on for dear life this time, so I think we should be good. Do the pants feel ok? Not too tight?” 

I shook my head, “No everything feels like it fits perfectly. Thank you for making the size adjustments.” Amy seemed proud of herself as she gave me one last look over. Kat returned in her gown minutes later.

“Does everything feel ok on this one Kat?” Amy asked as she stood back to look over the fit of the gown.  

“Yeah, it fits like a glove. Perfect as always. I do have a request though…would it be possible to get a lower heel for both costumes?”

Amy’s brow furrowed, “You know production won’t be happy if you have different shoes for the group performance. Do you not wanna wear regulation heel height?”

Kat sighed, “Fine, I’ll keep the ones for group, but I would like lower ones to go with the gown. If we can try to keep them lower for the rest of the season as much as possible that would be great.”

Amy gave her a sympathetic look, “Are you having foot pain already?”

Kat huffed out a laugh, “No... not yet, but I’m trying really hard to avoid it as much as I can.” 

Amy nodded before disappearing to the back. 

I knew Kat could see the confusion on my face when she glanced up at my reflection in the mirror. I didn’t understand what they were talking about. “Everything ok?”  

She gave me a tight smile, “Did you know that for every inch added to heels, the weight on the pad of your foot increases by 25%. Regulation heel height for ballroom is two and a half inches…for Latin it's three. Heels change your gait and the way you move. I have arthritis in my feet, knees, and hips. The heels and Latin dances really do a number on me because I’m too fucking old to be doing this. So, I’m trying to be proactive before it gets too bad to dance.”   

Suddenly everything made sense. My mouth fell open in shock. Fuck. I had no idea. “That’s why this is your last season?” 

She nodded, “Yep. I’m retiring from competitive dancing.” 

I could tell this wasn’t an easy decision. I could see how much she loved dancing. My heart was aching for her. That would be like me giving up acting. Just the thought of doing that freaked me the fuck out. 

I gave her a devilish smile, “Well, that settles it then. We’re gonna win this fucking competition. You’re going out on top.”

She laughed, grabbing my hand to pull me in for a quick side hug, “Thank you…for trusting me to be your partner.” 

I pulled her in closer for a tight hug, realizing she had multiple meanings behind her words. I could feel my chest tighten as I worked to steady my emotions. It seemed that both of us had demons to battle. As we pulled away, Amy appeared from the back with a different pair of shoes for Kat, “Best I can do is a one and a half inch. We don’t have a lot of lower heels on hand.” 

Kat took the shoes from her, “That’s perfect, I’ll take them. Thank you.”  

After we finished with Amy, we stopped in hair and makeup for quick touch ups. While we were getting touched up, I could tell Kat was starting to get nervous, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as she looked up at the clock on the wall.

I glanced her way, “You good?” 

She chuckled, “Yeah, I always get a little pre-show jitters. It’ll pass. It’s 3:40…They’ll be bringing the audience in now. It’s almost time.” 

I pursed my lips then laughed, “You can’t be nervous. It’s gonna make me nervous.” 

She reached her hand across the space between the chairs, I grabbed it in mine so she could give it a comforting squeeze as she looked at me intently, speaking in a low voice, “You have no reason to be nervous. You’ve got this. After seeing some of the rehearsals, I honestly think you're one of the best on the cast this season. At least in the top three.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled, “Yeah, whatever. You’re just lubing me up.”

She gave me a toothy grin and laughed, “No, I’m serious.” 

Alec and Lana’s reflection caught my attention in the mirror as they walked into the room. I dropped Kat’s hand and gave her a small smile. Alec approached us from behind, walking around Kat’s chair to lean down and give her a quick kiss, “You look beautiful, baby. Good luck out there. Your dress rehearsal looked great.”

Kat’s brows arched as she chewed on the inside of her cheek, “Thank you. You too.” She gave him a small smile, but it looked forced. Alec moved to sit at the empty station beside Lana, but I could tell he was watching us through the mirror. Kat didn’t say much after that, not until we were finished and walking toward the dressing rooms so she could change back into her group performance costume. 

I waited for her in the hallway - going through the routine in my head as I stood there. It was only a few minutes before Kat joined me with her phone and wired earbuds in hand. As she walked over to me, I noticed she was looking down the hallway with an annoyed expression, I laughed quietly, “What’s wrong?”  

“Anika is looking at you like you’re a fresh piece of meat.” 

“Oh?” I turned in the direction Kat had been looking. Sure enough, there was a short blonde giving me a flirty smile. I gave her something between a grimace and smile back as I turned toward Kat, “Yeah, sorry about her luck. That’s not happening.” 

Kat laughed, “Why? Not your type?”

I shook my head, “No, not anymore. I don’t date party girls. Actually, I’m taking a hiatus from dating at the moment. They recommended that in rehab. At least until I’m sure I have my shit together.”  

Kat arched a brow in my direction, “So you haven’t…dated…anyone since you went to rehab…eight months ago?

I scratched at the back of my neck nervously, “Since before that. It’s been like eleven months since I hooked up with anyone.” 

She was now raising both eyebrows at me, “Hooked up?” 

I grimaced, “Yeah, I didn’t really do the whole relationship thing before. I was kind of a mess and an asshole.”

She chuckled, “I’m sure you broke a lot of hearts.”

I sucked air in through my teeth, “Ehhh…Doubtful. Most of them were just as fucked up as me. They were usually trying to get something outta me…money, fame…the list goes on. It’s part of the reason I have a hard time trusting people.”  

Kat was giving me an intense look now. It was that look that made my stomach do flips and my heart race in my ears. I could feel the electricity crackling between us again. 

“But you trust me?” More than anyone. 

I waited a beat to answer as my eyes roamed over her face, “Yeah...I do.” 

Joe and Stacia chose that moment to walk by, yelling out a 20-minute warning to start time. Stacia gave us a wide smile as they continued past us. I looked back at Kat, now realizing how closely we were standing. I backed away slightly as we gave each other an awkward smile. 

“We should probably head to the staging area.” I nodded and followed closely behind her. 

Before I knew it, the show was starting. I stood in the staging area, watching the group performance. Kat of course did the routine to perfection. Once they were finished, she had to run off to change. Luckily our performance was toward the end of the show, so she didn’t have to rush. I sat watching the show until she reappeared at my side, smiling and breathless. I gave her a lopsided grin, “You did amazing.” Her cheeks flushed at the compliment before she murmured a quiet “Thank you.” 

She busied herself with untangling her corded earbuds. As I watched her, I had to appreciate that she didn’t use the wireless kind. Once she had them untangled, she handed one of them to me. I gave her a confused look, “I like to listen to music to get hyped up before performances. It helps with the nerves.” I couldn’t help the smile that spread across my face. This was something I often did while filming to get into character. 

I stuck the bud in my ear just as the familiar opening beats of Lose Yourself started playing. I glanced up at her, “Eminem…really?”   

She gave me a toothy grin, nodding before she started bobbing her head to the music. I laughed, following her lead. She grabbed my hands, shaking my arms and forcing me to move in time with her to the beat as she started quietly mouthing the words. If her goal was to distract me, it was working. By the time the song ended, it was nearly our turn. We stood bouncing on our feet to keep the energy going until it was time for us to walk out onto the dance floor and take our places. 

I could hear the blood pulsing in my ears as we waited for the music to start - both of us breathing heavily in anticipation. The electricity between Kat and I only seemed amplified by the audience's excitement as we walked down the small set of steps to the opening notes, arm in arm. The moment I took her hand for the inside turn, something just clicked between us as we moved in perfect synchronization across the dance floor. Our connection felt differently than it had during rehearsals. The heat of her bare skin caused my fingertips to tingle as they slid down her back and sides. I could sense that Kat felt it too because her eyes were blazing from the energy passing between us. It was almost like we were moving as one. I found the intensity of the moment was strangely intoxicating.

I was in a daze as the performance came to an end. Kat quickly pulled me in for a hug as she jumped up and down while the crowd applauded loudly around us. The performance went by so quickly I didn’t even have time to think. It was more muscle memory than anything. All I could do was let out the breath I had been holding and smile down at her as we walked over to speak with the judges. 

The judges mostly gave compliments, noting that we had pulled off the elegance of the dance, making it seem effortless and magnetizing. One of them even commented on the electricity and connection between us. I guess I wasn’t the only one that felt it. The feedback they gave was that I needed to make sure I was holding my frame all the way through the performance. That didn’t surprise me as Kat was constantly calling me out me on it. Holding the frame absolutely wore my back out, so it was a struggle.

After getting the judges feedback, we moved over to the interview area to answer a few questions about our performance while we waited for the scores to be chosen and verified. Kat grabbed my hand and squeezed it tightly as I rambled on about the challenges I had during rehearsal. As I finished answering the question, the host went back to the judges for scoring. They gave us three 8’s and one 7. It was the highest anyone had scored so far. I was in shock as Kat pulled me in for another hug.  

Once we were back in the staging area, I burst out laughing. I couldn’t believe it. Once I finally got it together, I glanced at Kat who was smiling at me. Her eyes were still bright with emotion as I grabbed her, pulling her in for another tight hug, “I cannot believe we just did that…you were so fucking amazing.”

She pulled away, still smiling, “You were too. I told you, you’re good at this. If we keep that up, I think we have a real chance of making it to finals.”    

I nodded, suddenly feeling much more confident about this whole thing. 

We stayed around to see how the last few performances went, letting the adrenaline burn off as we critiqued the competition. There were only two other couples who had scores near ours. Anika and her partner were a few points below us. Alec and Lana were tied with us. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as the judges read off Alec and Lana’s scores. I knew she had to be considering how those two being our biggest competition could affect things going forward. It would undoubtedly create even more tension between her and Alec. There was also the narrative of the show to consider. Kat and I both knew the executive producers would somehow use this to their advantage.  

Next: Week 3 (Part 1)

A/N: Whew, we have soooooo much to unpack for this chapter. We had lots of bonding and some mild flirting with Dieter & Kat. You know I want to hear all your thoughts and thots about these two.

We had more shenanigans from Stacia and Joe. What do you think they are up to? Now we have Anika throwing some attention Dieter’s way. Then there is the Alec & Lana nonsense going on…and just Alec’s nonsense in general.

Also…Dieter is totally not being honest with his therapist AND he has a fucking cat now. 🤭

Of course they nailed their first performance. They are going to be a force to be reckoned with. Speaking of their performance, I’ve been watching A LOT of DWTS episodes and videos as I write this fic. So, for each week I’m going to share one or two videos that inspired Dieter & Kat’s performance for the chapter. This chapter’s inspiration is linked below. The first video is more of what I envisioned for their first dance. The second is a sexier foxtrot that would have had Dieter’s head spinning, but he’s totally down for it. Don’t worry, they will get there eventually.

✨More good stuff below the videos.✨

👉In case you missed it, head on over HERE to check out this amazing video that @survivingandenduring was kind enough to put together for Closed Position. It's hot and has all the Dieter & Kat ✨vibes✨. I’m still screaming over it!

👉I have started working on a playlist for Closed Position. I will be adding to it as inspiration strikes. I plan to add the songs used for Dieter & Kat's performances as we go along too.

Taglist: @secretelephanttattoo @titlee78 @maggiemayhemnj @legendary-pink-dot @morallyinept @survivingandenduring  @wannab-urs @harriedandharassed @hisandsnakes @misstokyo7love @readingiskeepingmegoing @runningmom94 @sin-djarin @cakipy-blog @missladym1981 @guelyury @weho2kcmo @alokaerza @girlofchaos @trulybetty @rhoorl @bitchwitch1981 @madnessofadaydreamer @darkheartgatita @jazzloveslatte @timpletance @musings-of-a-rose @samiamproductions @myloveistoolittle @for-a-longlongtime  @copperhalfcent @auteurdelabre @drewharrisonwriter @burntheedges @stevie75 @bunniboo0015 @quicax3 @jackie923 @sherala007 @pastelnap @angelofsmalldeath-codeine @jessthebaker @rebel-held @gwendibleywrites @pedrostories

*If your name is marked out, it wouldn’t let me tag you. ☹️

If you would like to be added to the tag list, let me know in the comments or shoot me a DM.

Credits: Support/MDNI Dividers: @cafekitsune Disco Divider: @deadbranch

[orchidego]

ao3 has taken me places I wouldn't even go to with a g*n

smoking on that dramione pack

( @ailenach asked me for a dramione rec list so that's what this post is, anyone else read at your own risk )

Compiler’s note - skip down to the list if you don’t need to know why/what exactly I like in fic!

aka my dramione ethos: The most compelling dynamic in a ship, for me, is when it comprises of two people giving each other the strength to be the people they need to be.

Before he can be loved, Draco must be redeemed. In a way, he’s awfully bad at being a blood supremacist (lacking real conviction). Draco’s Slytherin morality, at least as a teen, compels him only in the direction of protecting and preserving himself and his own; he doesn’t seem to have a morality outside of this. Everything else is borrowed from his fear and desire to conform to his loved ones’s expectations. Contrast with Hermione, who has an outsized sense of morality—she knows exactly what is good and right, and she throws herself into her causes with self-righteous conviction, headstrong and beautifully off-putting.

Draco, the boy who belonged everywhere, watched his fragile worldview turn to ash and became unmoored. Hermione, the girl who belonged nowhere, bent the world towards her through obstinate radiant willpower, and established herself. Two people who could, maybe, find a home in each other.

A Draco in love with Hermione might wrap his morality around her courage, might steady himself while in the service of her. A Hermione in love with Draco might be preserved by him, may be bolstered against burning out or being misunderstood or unseen. They’re both industrious with their respective tasks (she researches! he toils!), which lends itself to them having intellectual parity. They’re both kind of intense. Then there’s the general enemies to lovers appeal, the idea that at no point in time were these two characters ever indifferent towards each other. The banter potential alone…!

So this is some of the kind of exploration I like in fic, pressed in many different tones; ff is especially unique in that we can play around with the elements (AUs, contrived circumstances, tonal shifts, narrative beats) and be more experimental because the weight of canon grounds it.

My rec list:

Before I truly begin, I feel like I have to comment on it: I did ultimately enjoy Manacled. A "Voldemort wins" fic with a Handsmaid Tale twist; it has compelling structure, with a D/Hr dynamic suited to my tastes and what I find interesting about the characters. However, it's dark (mind the tags) and I’m still not certain if the content was handled as effectively as the author meant it to be, and so I don't think it's a universal recommendation despite its staggering popularity. If you do want to read this I would recommend downloading it because she's going to delete it off ao3 once the novelization of it comes out next year.

My quintessential dramione recommendation is, of course, The Disappearances of Draco Malfoy. It's a full Deathly Hallows rewrite where Draco goes Horcrux hunting with the trio and as far as I'm concerned, it's canon. Unlike every other fic on my list, I would recommend this to everyone. Written very closely in style to the books, I think it has universal appeal and it’s the perfect jumping off point for the pairing while being convincing. Sometimes I would find myself wishing that this was the direction the books had taken. PG-13, in terms of violence and sexual content, which I find significant enough to bring up since there’s usually a lot of sex in popular ff.

My favorite humor-based rec: Bad Omens. Written in the vein of Terry Pratchett. I would describe this as a "star-crossed morons" kind of story. It's literally perfect.

Remain Nameless. Caveat that this sort of trailed off for me once the central tension with the relationship was resolved but I think in terms of an adult redemption arc it was very sweetly done. Sometimes achingly tender.

The Fallout is probably my favorite “extended wartime” fic of all time. The intimacy in this makes me want to kms, in a good way. I'm linking to a downloadable pdf here since it's been removed off other sites.

Love in The Time of Zombie Apocalypse. Zombie outbreak AU. Strays from canon characterization but. Plot goes crazy. Complex character work. Hooked me all the way through.

Thirteenth Night. Post-war, Hermione assigned to monitor a memory-charmed Draco. Less epic than a lot of the other recs on this list because the scope of the world is small, but it’s quietly good.

This is just my plug for anything PacificRimbaud has ever written, but particularly the historical rom com Love and Other Historical Accidents, the raunchy and funny One and Done, and the tender romantic one-shot Les Pelerins.

BLOODY, SLUTTY, AND PATHETIC. Listen to me. Listen to me. The title sort of explains the tone and it carries entirely throughout. I am obsessed with this version of Draco. All men should be bloody slutty and pathetic. Post-war, ministry employee Hermione, marriage law AU (which tbh I don't tend to love usually, so this really is exceptional).

She Whom He Harbors. Ok before you read the summary/tags and judge me, yes, this is basically a "fuck or die" fic. I figured I needed to make the rec in case this is a vibe anyone is interested in pursuing. But it's not just gratuitous smut, I swear, there's a compelling plot here. Lot of orgasms. But there is a plot.

Brand New World. Epic in scope. Diverges in plot while they're still at Hogwarts. Great Draco redemption arc (which is important to me!)

The Gloriana Set. ThebeMoon is my personal queen of Hogwarts Eighth Year fics. I would also rec The Darkwood Wand, by the same author. Both very fun reads.

Things Without Remedy. Time travel! Adore the serious relationship build in this one.

Tea & Necromancy. Sort of an experimental tone. Equal parts funny and morbid.

Sucker Punch. Also would classify this as experimental; you'll know if you jive with the writing within a few paragraphs.

Choice and Chance. Absolutely delicious plot divergence at the point of Hermione's torture at Malfoy Manor. Involves multiverse elements.

Beyond Recall or Desire. If you like soulmate bonds!

Malfoy Shrugged. On the shorter side; just a great two-shot.

Tromp as Writ. While I'm recommending perfect one-shots.

Mindbound. This author has a series of very short works based on fairy tales. This one is my favorite but I'd recommend the others too.

Past / Present / Future. Barbara Kruger AND a perfect adult Draco characterization? J’adore.

My very last recommendation is something that is so important to me, but I'm separating it like this because it's a WIP whereas all the others are completed fics. Please don't let that deter you, if at all interested.

Lionheart. !!!!

What can I say about Lionheart, except that its author somehow resides in my brain and created something for me, specifically? I've really so rarely read fic that is so perfectly balanced in dialogue, character understanding, narrative arc, plotting, action—when I read this, I feel like how I felt at 11, reading Harry Potter. For real. It's a whole series rewrite, truly epic in scope, asking the question: what if Draco had been sorted into Gryffindor? Currently the storyline is complete as to book four, partially through book five, and being updated. The character work is especially stunning to me. This is the sweetest slowburn friendship-to-lovers of my dreams; obviously heavy on the friendship arc since we're not all the way through, and yet I find that my emotional investment in this is so heightened it doesn't even matter to me. I want to read thousands of words of this (luckily, it's already got 600k+ of those). Thank you greenTeacup, for my life.

I obviously have read more than this so if there are any specific tropes/interests/limitations you want a rec for, I'm open to give an opinion. Also I have my eye on a few fics that I just haven't read yet, so alas, this list is not perfectly complete. The next thing I want to read....Détraquée....