#i have been told. this comes from a kids next door fanfiction?

[quotegender]

guncapableofkillinggodquoteic

a gender related to the quote “With that single act, he buried his innocence and created a gun capable of killing a god.”

[ PT. guncapableofkillinggodquoteic END PT. ]

[ ID start: a flag with six (6) horizontal wavy lines, in the following colors: yellow, dark green, green, teal, light green, and yellow. End ID ]

[pathologicalreid]

next of kin | S.R.

disaster strikes and you and Spencer try to take custody of your younger sister

part two

who? spencer reid x fem!reader category: angst content warnings: actually might be gn! but i'm too scared to say it is. death, orphan-ing, funerals, child custody issues, blood, general cm violence, like actually an abhorrent amount of death. sorry i killed your parents for the sake of my fanfiction can we still be friends? word count: 3.33k a/n: this is the fic that this post is about. i am in fact my own worst enemy. i hope y'all like it actually genuinely i am most definitely overthinking this. if your name is maya im sorry that sucks.

“What did your parents say?” Spencer asked, walking into the conference room that the local precinct had offered to you.

You had been staring blankly at your phone since you got off the call with your mother, “Uh, they said thanks, but no thanks.”

The uneasy feeling had settled in your stomach as soon as you found out the team was being called to your hometown, and you had been nauseous ever since you found out the UnSub’s pattern.

Married couples with an older child who had moved out and a younger child who was still at home.

Your little sister was a surprise, you had incorrectly assumed your parents were done having kids.

Until today, you wouldn’t have traded Maya for the world, but now you sat in fear of your family being targeted by a serial killer. Hotch had offered them a protective detail, but they declined. Self-righteous as they were, they told you it wouldn’t feel right for them to accept help that couldn’t be offered to everyone.

Clenching your jaw, you stood at the table, “I’ll go by later and check in on them.”

Spencer had met your family twice by now. Last Christmas he had tagged along to meet them and celebrate with your family before the two of you spent New Year’s with his mom. Then, while your sister was on Spring Break, they flew out to Virginia, and you and Spencer had shown your family around Quantico and the District.

Maya had loved Spencer, partially because you loved him, but mostly because of his magic tricks.

“Do you want me to go with you?” He asked, stepping up next to you and placing a hand on the small of your back.

You sighed and shook your head, “No, not if you’re needed here.” You reached up and cupped his cheek, smiling softly, “Thank you for offering, Spence.”

He nodded affirmatively, “If you change your mind,” he offered. Gently, he pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before the two of you returned to the rest of the team.

The fact that your parents lived only five minutes from the police station gave you some relief, but you still felt tightly wound. Everyone had noticed. You just needed this case to be over.

The porch lights were on when you got there, and you used your house key – which you had never taken off of your keychain - to open the front door. “Hey, kiddo,” your dad greeted from the couch. A peek into the kitchen showed you that your mom was wiping down the counters. It all felt so eerily normal.

It was dark by the time you had gotten there. Maya was already asleep, but you tip-toed into her room anyway and kissed her goodnight before going back downstairs. Once you had hugged both of your parents and told them you loved them, you made your way back to the police precinct.

By nearly three in the morning, there was no new information, and the team was starting to consider calling it a night until the police chief got a call.

“We just got a call. Lady reported shouts coming from her neighbor’s house at 86 Meadowbrook,” he informed you, putting his hands on his hips and looking around at the team.

None of them even spared him a returning glance, everyone’s eyes were on you.

Blinking rapidly, you nodded assuredly, “I have to go get Maya.” You didn’t even recognize your voice even as you said it. It couldn’t have been your voice. That was the rasp of someone far away from you.

All of the other voices around you were muffled, you couldn’t hear what people were telling you, let alone understand them.

Maya. Maya. Maya.

Brown eyes. There they were, right in front of your face. “Let’s go get her,” Spencer whispered.

You had been speaking out loud. Repeating your sister’s name like a prayer without even realizing it.

Hotch let you go with them, but he made it abundantly clear to you – and the rest of the team – that you weren’t working this case anymore.

Surrounded by reverent voices in an SUV, JJ drove while Spencer stayed in the back with you. He held your hand tightly in his.

The house was closed off with police tape. Bright yellow plastic fluttered in the wind as you watched your team and other emergency personnel enter and exit. At your insistence, Spencer went in to get Maya, it felt like it had been hours before he walked out, carrying her in his arms.

Carefully, he brought her to you, and you pulled her close to your chest, blocking her eyesight as two body bags were brought out of the house.

You didn’t hear anything after that. You just let yourself be moved to wherever you needed to be, holding your kid sister as she cried for your parents.

They had to take their bodies to the hospital even though they were already gone, and you needed to be the one to confirm their identities. Spencer stayed with Maya while you were busy. She had cried herself to the point of exhaustion, you were grateful that she was sleeping, and then you felt cruel.

By sunrise, she was still asleep, and you had been set up in that same conference room from earlier. Sitting across from you was a social worker, a representative of the state. Your lips had parted in shock as you looked at her, “What do you mean they denied my request?”

In an attempt to be helpful, JJ worked with you to file an emergency request for custody of Maya, and the case worker had just told you that the request was denied. “The state doesn’t believe your request is valid,” she told you.

Your mouth went dry, “I don’t…” you glanced over at your little sister. “Our parents were murdered last night, and they won’t let me take custody of my sister?” You asked indignantly, peering at the social worker. It wasn’t her fault, somewhere in your grief-ridden brain you knew that, but you couldn’t help the feeling that she was somehow your enemy.

“They don’t believe you can provide her with a stable living environment,” the social worker, Brittany, explained.

Narrowing your eyes, you responded, “A stable living environment like a foster home? I’m her sister. We’re family – the only family each other has left.” You stood up, excusing yourself for a moment before walking out of the precinct. Once you were outside, you promptly hurled into the bushes.

That was how he found you, to the side of the building with your hair haphazardly moved out of your face, dry heaving into the shrubbery. Gently, Spencer placed a hand on your back before starting to rub small circles on your back, “You should eat something, love.”

You just shook your head in response, you weren’t hungry. “They won’t let me take her,” you whispered morosely, straightening up, you kept your back facing him.

“What?” He asked, his hand abruptly stopping its movement on your back.

Taking a deep breath and sitting on the curb, you looked up at Spencer. “The state thinks I’m not stable enough to take her in,” you said, resting your chin in your hands.

Your boyfriend crouched down so that he could sit next to you, “Are you going to challenge it?”

“Of course I am,” you cried. “But what happens to her in the interim, Spence? She gets placed with whatever foster home here and I go back to Virginia? I see her when the family court resolves this in two years?”

Treading carefully, Spencer cleared his throat, “What are you going to do?”

Defeated, you shrugged. “I don’t know. I’m…” your voice trailed off. “My parents are dead, Spencer,” you murmured softly, tears welling in your eyes.

He reached out and wrapped his arms around you, “I know, darling. I know. I’m so sorry.”

“I don’t think I can do this alone,” you whispered, leaning gently into him.

Spencer turned to kiss your temple, “It’s a good thing you’re not alone then. I’m not going anywhere.” He waited for a moment before continuing, “Give me something to do. Give me a job to take off of your shoulders.”

In the end, you let Spencer take over funeral planning. He thanked you for trusting him before the both of you went back into the precinct.

You had just hung up with a family lawyer who had offered to take your case, letting your phone drop to the floor, you let your arms hang at your side. Someone had taken Maya to get breakfast while you spoke with the lawyer.

At the sound of the phone falling to the floor, Spencer stepped into the conference room, letting the door click shut before him. “Hey, what did he say?”

Pressing the heels of your palms into your eyes, you took in a deep breath, “Um, he said he’d be willing to take the case if I could put together a case plan to present before the judge.”

Before that phone call, you didn’t know what a case plan was, you could’ve gone your whole life without knowing what a case plan was.

“I need a year-long plan for how I’m going to prepare to have Maya in my custody, but he said a year is the best he can do,” you said, staring blankly at the wall ahead of you. “A year?” You whispered aimlessly, “I’m not waiting a fucking year to take custody of her. I have to take her home, Spence. I have to.” It wasn’t your intention to snipe at him, but you felt like you couldn’t help yourself.

The events of the last twelve hours threatened to take you down, but you had to stay strong for Maya.  

Taking a shaky breath, you looked up at Spencer, “Why is it that every time I convince myself that it’s going to be okay, I get tossed to the ground again?” You asked him.

Maybe because you weren’t fully convinced. Maybe it was because it had only been seven hours. You needed to remind yourself of that.

“She’s a ward of the state?” Spencer asked for clarification, holding you tightly.

Nodding absentmindedly, you rested your head on his shoulder as he swayed gently. “She can stay with me until after the funeral, and after that, she has to go with the social worker.”

The sad look on Spencer’s face told you that he was running out of ideas, and you were coming to the very same conclusion. “We could get married,” he offered.

“Stop, Spence,” you said, shaking your head. You couldn’t believe this was where he was going.

He shrugged helplessly, “I’m serious, Y/N. If we get married, they might think we’re stable, as a couple. They might give us custody.”

Your shoulders slumped, “I don’t want to get married just to get custody of my sister.” It certainly wasn’t that you didn’t want to marry Spencer, just not like this.

He nodded understandingly, “I know, but I’m just saying. If that’s what it takes, then I’ll do it.” Placing a comforting hand on your knee, the two of you sat in silence for a moment. “Do you have any ideas?” He asked you carefully.

Looking through the blinds of the conference room, you saw the rest of the team coming back to the precinct. Setting your jaw, you nodded, “I might.”

Opening the door, you had Maya go in with Spencer while you approached your Unit Chief. “Hey,” Hotch said, a glint of sympathy in his eyes. “How are you holding up?” He pulled you away from the people, wanting to give you privacy.

This wasn’t fair, they were still working on an active case. A case that was disturbingly close to you, and yet, you felt you were out of options. “I need a favor,” you blurted to him, wringing your hands. Your nervous energy made it impossible for you to stay still.

Hotch nodded, “What do you need?” He asked, studying your composure with the eye of a profiler.

You took a deep breath, “I was… I need you to call in a favor with someone. Anyone, really. The state won’t let me take custody of Maya, but I can’t let her become a ward of the state. Not when I’m right here, ready, willing, and able to take her.”

“Okay,” he responded, not even pausing to think about it.

Taken aback, you looked at him curiously, “I- that’s it? I had groveling prepared.”

He nodded almost imperceptibly as if he was trying to tell you it wasn’t necessary. “You’ve been a part of this team for years and not once have you ever asked for anything in return for everything you do for everyone else. This is the least I can do,” he told you.

You couldn’t help it. Overwhelmed, you tackled Hotch in a bear hug, “Thank you.” Your voice was low, “Thank you so much.”

Succinctly, Hotch hugged you back before you pulled away, “I’ll go make some calls.”

It was the smell.

The smell that you’d sensed countless times before on the job, the metallic tang of the blood. It should’ve been mostly dried by now – you supposed you were more susceptible to the scent, considering it was your parent’s blood, but it put you on high alert.

Emily had brought you by so that you could pack a bag for Maya, but you found yourself stuck on the landing. To one side, there was your childhood bedroom and Maya’s room. On the other side, there was your parent’s room.

“Y/N?” Emily called your name from downstairs, “Are you alright?”

No, you wanted to say, but you bit your tongue, scanning the house you had grown up in. “This doesn’t belong here,” you told her, glancing behind you as she made her way up the staircase.

You didn’t have gloves, so instead you pointed at the figurine that was resting on the bookshelves, a little bear facing in the direction of your parent’s bedroom door. “This is in the wrong spot?”

Nodding, your eyes followed the ceramic bear as Emily picked it up with a gloved hand. “It’s mine, it should be in my room,” you informed her. Your parents never changed anything about your childhood bedroom, not since you moved out. “It was like it was watching them,” you thought aloud.

“Do you think the UnSub did it?” She asked you gently, her voice was low but steady.

Blinking rapidly, you kept your eyes focused on the figurine, “Little Bear,” you murmured, “They called her Little Bear.”

Emily shook her head in confusion, dark hair swaying as her head moved. “Who was called Little Bear?”

Dropping the bag you had packed to the floor, you buried your face in your hands, “I should’ve seen it sooner.” The victimology, it all suddenly made sense to you. “When I was a kid, there was a family like mine. A brother who was in his twenties when his parents had another baby, a girl. They called her Little Bear.”

Realization dawned on Emily’s dark features, “Like this bear?”

You picked up the bag and started making your way back down the stairs. “Their mother made those figurines. The parents died in a fire two weeks ago – they left everything to the younger sister. It was all over the news. God, I should’ve figured it out sooner.”

“Hey,” Emily said sympathetically, “You had other things going on. None of this was your fault.” Her voice was stern, harsher than you’d ever heard her, as she pulled out her phone and called the team.

Your teammate drove, passing the police station on the way to drop you off. They left for the takedown, and you felt yourself floating into the precinct. Maya was waiting in the conference room for you, watching cartoons on someone’s laptop.

Kneeling in front of your little sister, you tapped the space bar, pausing the video. “Hey, kiddo,” you whispered, reaching over, and smoothing her hair away from her face. “How are you feeling?”

She had cried herself to sleep earlier, and you felt like you hadn’t been around enough. Maya sat up on the couch and rubbed her eyes, they were red, but not teary. “I miss mommy,” she told you, pouting slightly.

You nodded gently, moving to sit next to her before you pulled her into your lap. At six years old, she was all gangly limbs, just starting to grow into her own person. Just old enough to understand death, “I know, baby. I miss them too.”

“They wouldn’t lemme go home,” she continued, leaning her head on your shoulder. “I wanted Thumper,” she whined, sounding younger than she was.

Looking up at the light, you silently begged for your tears to go away. “I got him for you,” you told her, reaching into your bag and producing the small stuffed bunny that you had given her as a baby.

You savored the way her eyes lit up as she grabbed the stuffed animal from you.

“So, you and Thumper are gonna come to stay with me in Virginia. Do you remember going there? You said you liked it?” You kept smoothing her hair back as she held her toy.

She was silent for a moment, “Will Spencer be there?” She asked quietly.

Smiling slightly, you nodded, “He and I live together, so he’ll be there with us.” Slowly, you started rocking back and forth, trying to soothe the both of you simultaneously.

“As long as he doesn’t pull money out of my ear,” she answered succinctly, shutting her eyes as she leaned up against you.

There was approximately an hour before you watched the team return to the precinct, slowly, you laid Maya down on the couch before walking out. “It was a clean shoot,” you heard Rossi tell Morgan, and one look at the rest of them told you everything you needed to know.

The team went back to the hotel, and Spencer filled you in on the funeral arrangements he had made on your behalf. You were about to try to get some sleep when Hotch approached you and told you he needed to speak to you.

“I called a good friend of mine on your behalf, and he gave me some information. We were able to work out a plan,” he told you, sitting across from you in the hotel lobby.

You were about to tell him that a case plan wouldn’t work, but he held his hand out, telling you to wait.

He nodded before he kept going, “He was able to file an emergency request to grant you temporary custody of Maya, and it was granted.”

You felt sick to your stomach, “She’s mine?”

“Temporarily, you’ll have to take care of some formalities back in Virginia, but you have full custody of her,” he informed you. “You’re being granted family leave, and I’ve encouraged Reid to apply for it as well,” Hotch told you, reaching out and placing a hand on your shoulder. “I am… I’m sorry that you’ve had to go through this but thank you for coming to me when you needed the help.”

You nodded absentmindedly, your head still whirling with the information that you had just been given. Stumbling, you walked back to your hotel room that you were sharing with Spencer and Maya.

The funeral was planned, the custody issue was solved, all there was left to do was…

“Baby?” Spencer said softly as you swung open the door, “Everyone else took Maya to get ice cream, I figured it couldn’t-“ his voice broke off at your first sob.

Everything you had held in came bursting out, all of the grief and stress and exhaustion nearly knocked your legs out from underneath you.

But Spencer was there to catch you.

part two

[moonlightspencie]

This Ain’t for the Best

Description: Mutual pining. Classic hunting scenarios. Sharing a bed. Wearing the other’s clothes. Confessions. Friends to lovers. Tswizzle title. Need I say more?

Pairing: Dean Winchester x gn!Reader

Warnings: a little bit of violence, me cramming in every cliché i can because i love the classic fanfiction tropes more than i love breathing

Word Count: 5.9k

A/N: i was kicking my feet and giggling as i wrote this, especially when i snuck in criminal minds AND taylor swift references. i love writing and never beta-reading or editing what i’ve written. catharsis.

Crashing at Bobby’s had its benefits.

First, we had the comfort of knowing where we were going to sleep at night. It was good to have a bed waiting that wasn’t in a motel room.

Second, there was almost always good food around. I had a knack for home-cooked meals, and it was much easier to be appreciated for it when I actually had a stove to cook on.

Third, there were boundless opportunities for Sam, Dean, and I to kick back and actually relax.

That’s how I ended up in the kitchen, laughing with Dean over old stories we’d told a million times before. He reached in the fridge, pulling out two bottles after we’d come down from the most recent remembrance of an old case. He cracked open the top of his beer, then my drink, sliding it towards me on the counter. Sam and Bobby strolled in st that moment, pausing when they saw us.

“You both woke up like an hour ago,” Sam said, unamused.

“6pm somewhere,” Dean and I said in unison.

We looked at each other with a small laugh, leaving Bobby and Sam rolling their eyes. I took my drink and stood a few steps away.

“We should really get going, though, Dean,” Sam stated.

“Where?” Bobby asked.

“We were planning on doing a run to the grocery story. I don’t want us to eat up all your food without repaying you, and we’re almost out of beer,” Sam said, pointedly looking at his brother.

“This one needs more of those little fruity drinks, too,” Dean teased, nodding at the bottle in my hand.

“Hey, it’s still a malt liquor. Just one that I like,” I said with a laugh.

They said their goodbyes, and I started walking into the front room. Bobby watched the door for a few moment after the boys left, then turned in the archway and locked his gaze on me as I sat on the couch.

I looked at the bottle in my hand. “I know y’all are all about beer, but I can’t help if I prefer something with a little flavor.”

“That’s not why I’m looking at you,” he grumbled, fed up with me already. “What in the world is goin’ on with you and Dean?”

“Huh?”

He furrowed his brow. “Don’t act all shy, now. You two have been flirting nonstop lately.”

“What’s new? We’re both pretty flirtatious in general.”

“Not like this,” he said with a shake of his head. “I don’t know the last time I saw that boy blushing, or you getting all flustered like a teenager.”

“I am not,” I scoffed. “Nothing’s happening, Bobby.”

“I’ve known your for five years, now, and I’ve known those boys since they were kids. You stayed in my house for a year, too. You can’t hide this kind of thing from me.”

“I’m not hiding anything. I’m an open book.”

Now, he scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m running for president.”

I rolled my eyes, taking another drink. He came closer, sitting down next to me.

“If you keep denying all this…”

I swallowed, finally resigning. “There’s nothing to do about it, Bobby.”

“Yes, there is. You could tell him.”

“It wouldn’t do any good. You know how he is, he doesn’t want to be tied down. If we don’t make any moves or promises or whatever, a lot less doesn’t get broken.”

He raised a brow. “I do know how he is. For you, he’d make an exception.”

“I don’t think so. Besides, it’s all just flirting for him. Doesn’t mean anything.”

“Are you blind?”

I looked at him, brows raising. He shook his head, picking at the label on his bottle.

“Sorry. I just— I know what I’m seeing, and I really don’t think it’s just a little friendly flirting for him, either,” he said, looking at me again. “I really think you should speak up while you’ve got the chance to. We don’t often get good things with lives like ours.”

“I know. I just don’t want to screw things up.”

“You’re gonna end up screwed if you keep pushing it down, anyway.”

I sighed. He took that signal as a time to change the subject, and for that I was thankful.

“Well, let’s find you the next case, huh?”

The next one was an easy find, and it would’ve been great to break the news to the boys when they got back, if not for a very clumsy Sam walking in the door with a twisted ankle.

“You what?” Bobby asked, incredulous.

Sam sighed, pouting. “I rolled it when I stepped in a pothole.”

Dean shook his head, clearly hiding his amusement as he helped his brother hobble towards a kitchen chair.

“So, no case, then?” I asked.

Bobby perked up. “No, you and Dean can still go. I can take care of Sam.”

“Bobby…” I warned, seeing through him instantly.

“Yeah, that’d be great,” Dean said, cutting off my death stare. “When was the last time we went on a case, just you and me?”

I looked at him.

“Seriously, you guys can go without me,” Sam said. “It might be good for you, Y/N. You seem a little restless.”

“I am not,” I defended.

Bobby chuckled. “Sure, you’re not. But I’m not suggesting, I’m telling you. Get out of my house.”

I glanced at him, offended. “I am a delight.”

“You are, but I still want you out. You become much less delightful when you’re antsy.”

Dean laughed. “Come on, it’s only a state over, right? If we start driving now we can make it by sundown.”

I took a moment.

“Alright,” I nodded, heading towards the stairs to gather my things.

The case was a hot mess, to say the least. We couldn’t figure out what we were hunting to begin with, and the only true consistency is that the deaths were messy, leaving each victim with a missing liver. It wasn’t until we were at the most recent site of the death that things took a little bit of a turn.

“What do you think?” Dean asked, leaning in my direction.

I shrugged, looking around the house.

“It seems… clean.”

“I mean, I guess. We haven’t found hex bags or EMF readings—”

“No,” I cut him off, gesturing around the living room. “Like physically clean. Nothing is out of place. Look at the mantle.”

I walked over, using my gloved hand to wipe along the surface. I showed him my hand.

“Clean. Not even dust.”

He raised a brow. “And that matters because…”

“Because we’re supposed to be looking for some monster-unknown that never cleans up their messes. Every other scene we’ve been to has been a wreck, so why is the only thing out of place the blood stains on the floor? This is also the first time it’s been in the victims house.”

He paused. “You’ve been watching Criminal Minds again, haven’t you?”

I rolled my eyes, taking off the glove.

“That’s not important right now,” I shook my head, standing next to him again. “And, for the record, it’s helping our case.”

“Right,” he chuckled. “Well, profiler, why don’t you tell me more about what you’re gathering from the scene.”

“Don’t patronize me,” I said with a laugh.

He smirked, placing a hand on my back.

“Let’s get out of here and figure out why things changed.”

We followed dead-end leads all over town, until we hit a lucky streak.

“Check this out,” Dean said, calling me over to the table in our room. “Remember that dive bar our last vic was seen at? Look at this dude’s last social media post.”

I walked over, resting a hand against the table as I leaned in. I looked at the laptop, raising a brow.

“Same place.”

“Same place,” he confirmed. “Wanna check it out? See if anything suspicious is up?”

“You sure you don’t just want to hit the bar?”

He looked up at me with a quirked brow.

“What do you think I am? Drinking on the job. I’d never,” he feigned innocence.

I snorted. “Right. So not you.”

“Leave in ten?”

“Sounds good to me.”

We hit the road soon after, winding up at the bar with our eyes peeled for any suspicious activity. There was plenty for us to see in a seedy town like this, but there was only one interaction that truly piqued our interested. I nodded at the man who was paying a little too much special attention to a woman, drawing Dean’s gaze in that direction. He was equally skeeved out. We kept an eye out for another hour or so before the weird activity took another step into the creep category.

We followed out the man who we caught following the woman, all the way to a neighborhood just outside the city. We made our move as soon as the man walked up to her house.

I followed Dean up to the house, and we started to slink around, waiting for any sign of trouble. I first checked through a window near the front of the house.

“Nothing,” I said, motioning for us to move further.

He took the lead, and we came up on a window that looked into the dining room. He slowly looked inside.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be freakin’ kidding me,” Dean mumbled, pulling his head back from the window.

“What?”

“Well, do you want the chance to play out your little crime show fantasies?”

I raised a brow. He sighed, shaking his head.

“That’s not— well, it is a monster in there, but not our kind of monster,” he said, tilting his head.

“It’s a human?”

He nodded. “Looks like it. Nothing supernatural that I can see. She’s passed out now, but let’s get a move on before he starts in on her.”

He started walking towards the back of the house, but I stopped him before we got to the door.

“Can— How do we do this?”

“What do you mean?”

“That’s a human. We can’t just chop his head off or exorcise him.”

“We could still stab him.”

“But should we?”

He gave me a very unamused look, waiting for me to make my point.

“Can we attempt to just— Kick his ass and leave him to deal with life in prison? Only go for the shot if it’s necessary.”

He softened. “He killed people, Y/N, does he really deserve mercy here?”

“Do you really think the prison system is mercy?” I asked, earning a slight chuckle. “I just feel weird about killing humans unless our lives are in immediate danger.”

“Okay,” he nodded. “Okay, we’ll play it your way. But if anything goes sideways—”

“Then you feel free to shoot him.”

He nodded curtly, then we continued to the door. He opened it carefully, and we stepped inside, checking our surroundings before we headed towards the woman in the dining room. We saw the man first, his back to us as he sat across the table from her.

“Playing house? Really?” Dean quipped, causing the man to whip around.

My gun was pulled before the man had a chance to stand up and react. He looked between us, obvious annoyance on his face.

“You’re not cops,” he stated.

Dean smirked. “No, we are much worse news for scumbags like you.”

“Now,” I started, “you can try and fail to fight your way out of here, or you can sit still while my partner here makes sure you’re sitting nice and pretty for when the cops do show up.”

Dean moved before he had a chance to formulate a response, dragging him out of the chair. The man tried to put up a fight, but it was pretty quickly silenced by means of a fist to the face. Dean left him on the ground after a few minutes and a roll of duct tape.

“Nice,” I commented, then put away my gun.

I moved to the woman at the table who was still passed out. I checked for a pulse, and when I was sure she was still breathing, I started undoing the binding that kept her to the chair. Dean called in an anonymous tip to the police station as I finished up clearing her of everything. She started waking right as I was about to try and move her to the couch.

“Hey, hey,” I said quietly, trying to give a little comfort before her panic set in. “You’re safe now, alright? You’re fine.”

Her eyes opened, and she immediately clung to me when she saw the man on the ground incapacitated.

“What happened?” she asked with a quivering voice.

“Me and my friend Dean saw this guy creeping around your house. We wanted to make sure everything was okay, and when we found out it wasn’t, we found a way in. The cops are on the way now.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Both of you.”

I glanced back at Dean with the ghost of a smile on my face. He raised his brows at me.

“Why don’t we get you to the couch?”

“You’re not staying?” she asked, still in shock.

“No, we gotta leave,” I said, helping her to the couch. “We’ll stick around for a few minutes outside till the cops get here, though.”

“Okay,” she nodded along absentmindedly as she laid on the couch.

I walked back to Dean, motioning for us to go outside. He looked back down at the man for a moment who was still passed out, then followed behind me. We got back to the Impala and waited.

“Weird to be thanked,” I said, watching the house.

He hummed. “Doesn’t happen often, that’s for sure.”

“I can’t believe we were accidentally hunting a serial killer.”

He snorted. “I’m surprised there’s not more crossover when we hunt.”

I hummed in agreement. “I also wonder why things changed so much. From the murders messy and public to being more confined in the homes.”

“Who knows,” he said, shaking his head. “Monsters make a hell of a lot more sense than people do.”

“You got that right.”

Soon enough we saw flashing lights coming down the street. We watched some officers step out of the first car, and a few more get out of an SUV.

“Is that FBI?” Dean asked, looking intently.

“I mean, we just found them a serial killer. They’ve probably been on high alert,” I said.

He nodded, and we watched for another moment as they prepared to go inside.

“Man, those vests are cool as hell in real life, too,” I commented.

“Alright, that’s enough,” he wrapped up the conversation with a laugh.

He pulled off the sidewalk at that, and started driving in the opposite direction of the cops. We decided to stay the night at the motel, neither of us awake enough to get back to Sam and Bobby. He pulled into the parking lot, and we trudged inside.

“At least we aren’t covered in monster guts this time,” I said as I fell onto the mattress.

“Right?” He chuckled. “Cool if I take the first shower?”

“Of course. I’ll be here.”

He shut the door of the bathroom, and I let out a sigh. All of the teamwork bull crap we’d been doing certainly didn’t help my case, but I could at least be thankful he didn’t want to go the bars and find a hookup. I threw my arms over my eyes and sighed.

“Hey,” I heard Dean’s voice call out, his hand on my knee.

I uncovered my eyes. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

He smiled. “Go take a shower.”

“You sayin’ I need one?” I asked with a quirked brow.

“Yeah. You’re a mess,” he replied, a playful glint in his eye. “I don’t know how I sat in a car with you all day, to be honest.”

I scoffed, getting up. He moved enough for me to get by, but didn’t let me get far before he started talking again.

“Movie tonight?” he asked.

I rustled through my bag, pulling out my pajama shorts.

“Sure.”

“Any requests?”

“Uh,” I started, still looking for a clean top. “Maybe a comedy. We could use something funny.”

“Good point.” He stared for a moment as I kept digging. “You missing something?”

“I can’t find my t-shirt. I thought I packed three in here.”

“Do you want one of mine?”

I paused, considering the offer. One one hand, I wouldn’t have to wear a cami to bed and risk accidentally flashing him in my sleep. One the other, I’d be wearing his shirt and that would be a sure way to get me in my own head. The risks of the first definitely outweighed my lack of self control.

“That would be awesome.”

He walked to his own bag, pulling out a shirt that matched the one he wore and handing it to me.

“I still think wearing our outside clothes to bed worked just fine.”

“Did you ever feel rested doing that?” I asked.

He sighed dramatically. I laughed.

“Exactly my point,” I said. “Most of your well-being has to do with mindset, Dean.”

He grumbled to himself as he settled into bed, and I took that as my chance to get in the bathroom. My shower was quick, especially since Dean used up most of the hot water. I knew I should’ve gone first, but it forced me not to stay in forever. I pulled on his shirt and my shorts, trying not to let myself smile when I saw myself in the mirror wearing his clothes. I walked back into the room before I allowed myself to think too hard.

He looked at me as I walked out, a smile creeping on his face. I fought back my own to raise a brow as I lingered at the foot of my bed.

“What?”

He shrugged. “Funny seeing you in my shirt.”

“Looks better on me than it ever did on you,” I sassed with a smirk, crawling into bed.

“Can’t argue with that,” he noted, still watching me. He cleared his throat a moment later, looking at the TV screen. “Uh, I found something, I think. They had Step Brothers on demand.”

“Oh, perfect,” I said as he clicked play.

We settled into a comfortable silence for a while, and I cuddled into the duvet. After we were halfway through the movie, I gathered the blankets around me even more.

“Is it just me, or is it freezing in here?” I asked, looking over to see Dean still sitting above the covers.

“It’s a little cold,” he shrugged, then looked at me. “I can check the heater.”

I nodded as he got up and crossed the room. He held a hand out, a puzzled look on his face after a moment. He smacked it with his hand, and still felt nothing.

“Hm. Hang on,” he said, moving to the phone. “Hi, I think the heater in here’s broken.”

A pause.

“Ah, great. Okay, thanks.”

He hung up the phone, looking to me apologetically.

“They said the heating’s down in the whole place.”

I sighed. “That sucks.”

He sat back in his bed, looking at me for a moment before he spoke again.

“I know it’s been a while since we had to, but do you wanna come sleep in my bed tonight? I run hot, it might keep you warm.”

“I know. I had to sleep next to you in the summer, and it was like roasting in an oven,” I chuckled.

“See? It’ll work perfect when you’re cold,” he said, standing again.

He pulled the covers back, getting underneath and patting the mattress next to him. I cursed myself for finding this case in the first place.

“Just don’t complain if I kick you in my sleep,” I said, getting out of my bed.

He chuckled. “I’m not worried about it.”

I got into his bed, and he threw the covers over me. He then reached over top of me to grab the remote, pressing play and slinging an arm around my shoulders. I pulled the duvet up to my chin, leaning into his side.

This position put me in a delicate spot, and I found that to be true more and more with every passing minute. Every time he laughed, I felt it reverberate in his chest. Every time he talked to me, I’d look up to see his face inches from mine. Every time he moved, he held me a little tighter.

In short, Bobby was all too correct about me being screwed.

“Hey,” Dean said, voice soft. “You okay?”

“Mm?”

I looked at him, once again trying not to think about the proximity.

“You always laugh at this scene. You didn’t make a sound this time.”

“Oh,” I chuckled, looking towards the screen. “Sorry, I must be exhausted.”

“Is that all? Seems like there’s something on your mind.”

“Alright, Dr. Phil,” I joked.

“Seriously,” he said, squeezing my shoulder. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just need some sleep,” I replied, glancing at him again with half a smile.

He quirked a brow, clearly not believing me, but willing to drop the subject.

“Okay. You know you can always talk to me?”

“I know.”

He smiled softly, then looked back at the TV as he shut it off. He settled into bed, still holding onto me. I snuggled into his side, using his chest as a pillow. I felt him breathe deep before he shut off the light.

“Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Night, Dean.”

I woke up the next morning before he did, and decided there was little harm in remaining there. I shut my eyes, letting myself enjoy the fact that I was still snuggled against him. It gave me a moment to pretend he was mine, at least for the morning. I listened to his breathing, and wondered if he ever dreamt about me in the same way I did about him. As if on cue, his arm tightened around me a little as he stirred. His thumb brushed against my shoulder where his hand had snuck under the sleeve of the t-shirt, though I couldn’t tell if he was really awake until I felt a soft kiss against the top of my head.

At that moment, I decided it was probably best to continue pretending I was still asleep.

He stayed that way for a little while, his hand still against my shoulder, making little patterns with his thumb. It took everything in me not to move when I felt him brush a few stray pieces of hair away from my face, and even more when he let his hand linger against my cheek for when felt like a few seconds too long to be purely friendly.

I wondered if he was always like this when I wasn’t awake. Extra attentive, and sure not to wake me. Maybe that’s why I somehow remained asleep every time I fell asleep in the car that normally jostled me around like a rag doll with his driving. I wondered even more if Bobby was right about something else he’d said days ago: the unrequited feelings might not be so unrequited after all.

I nestled my head against his chest, trying to give him a warning that I was about to open my eyes, and he quickly pulled his hand away from my face. I took in a breath, blinking slowly as I let the light seep in for the second time that morning.

“Morning,” he greeted quietly, his voice still soft and raspy from tiredness.

I smiled. “Morning.”

“You hungry?” he asked, drawing my attention to him.

I nodded, leaning back a little to see him better.

“Very, and I saw a café on the way into town that looked good,” I said.

He smiled softly, shutting his eyes for a moment. Then, he yawned, finally sitting up. He turned and looked at me as I stayed laying.

“How’d you sleep? Warm enough?”

“Thanks to you, yeah,” I replied, stretching. “I’m scared to get out of bed, now, though.”

He patted my leg over the covers, “If you want food, that should be motivation enough.”

“Good point.”

I reluctantly climbed out of bed as he walked into the bathroom to get ready for the day. It was cold, but not unbearable. I decided to throw on some clothes in the room since he always took a while in the bathroom. By the time he was finished, all I needed to do was wash my face and brush my teeth, then we were off.

Breakfast was short and sweet, and we made it back to Bobby’s in record time. We strolled in the door, seeing Sam gimping around the kitchen as soon as we walked in.

“Still letting that ankle beat your ass?” I asked immediately.

He laughed. “Trust me, if I had any control over it, this wouldn’t have been a problem in the first place.”

“Maybe you just wanted out of the hunt,” I said in reply.

“Oh yeah, I loved hanging out and making Bobby bring me ice packs all day. Dream vacation, actually.”

Dean shook his head with a smirk. “You didn’t miss out on much anyway.”

“How’d it go?” Sam asked as he took a seat.

I looked to Dean who was already glancing in my direction. I shrugged.

“We stopped a serial killer, actually,” I noted.

Sam gaped. “And I ‘didn’t miss much’?”

“Just knocked him out and called the cops. Not much fun, anyways,” Dean shrugged. “Oh, we did find maybe the best pancakes I’ve ever had, though.”

I hummed in agreement enthusiastically, nodding.

“They were freaking incredible,” I said, then looked back at Sam. “And they had like, real, fresh maple syrup.”

“Unlimited stacks when you bought the platter, too,” Dean chimed in with a gleeful smile.

“You two sound like an old married couple,” Sam scoffed out with a laugh. “What, did you fall asleep together after reading the newspaper, too?”

“After watching a movie, actually,” Dean corrected, grabbing a beer from the fridge. Then, he looked at me. “Did you want anything?”

“I’m okay.”

Sam looked between us, a raised brow and an amused look on his face.

“You two actually fell asleep together?”

I rolled my eyes. “That’s what you choose to focus on?”

He smiled mischievously, then looked at Dean.

“Making moves on her, now?”

Dean swallowed, glaring at his brother with wide eyes. I furrowed my brow, about to see if I could prod Sam for information, but Bobby walked in before I had the chance.

“Hey, you two. How was the hunt?”

Dean let out a breath. “Not real eventful. I could use some sleep.”

He started walking out of the room, all of us watching as he left. Bobby turned to me first, a questioning look on his face.

“Don’t look at me,” I said with my hands up in defense. “I think Sammy pissed him off.”

“Real smooth, Sam,” Bobby commented.

Sam scoffed, shaking his head. Bobby merely sighed, going to take a seat across from Sam. I looked at them both, hands on my hips.

“Why do I get the feeling you two know something I don’t?”

“Did Dean not talk to you?” Sam asked, looking at me.

“We talk plenty.”

“That’s not what I mean. He said he was gonna talk to you when the next case was over,” he stopped, then looked at Bobby. “Case came and went, and still nothing.”

Bobby shrugged. “Out of our hands, Sam. Told you not to meddle.”

I sighed in annoyance. “You two are children, you know that?”

“Hey,” Bobby said, offended.

“I’m gonna take a walk,” I said finally, turning for the door.

The second I was halfway out, they started talking again, but I couldn’t bring myself to care too much about what they said. Clearing my mind sounded like the best option, and I was determined to do it.

I started walking around the yard, music blaring from my phone to keep me preoccupied as I watched the sky light up with a million different colors. I found an old car with a relatively clean exterior and decided to climb onto the hood. I leaned back, watching the sky as it turned darker, the stars slowly peaking out.

“Room for one more?” Dean’s voice asked from behind me.

“Come on up,” I said, scooting over a bit.

He came and sat next to me, looking up at the sky. He let out a slow breath, then looked at me.

“Taylor Swift?”

“You know it,” I replied.

He smiled, turning his head back.

“Stars are coming out,” he commented.

“They are. You should’ve seen sunset, it was gorgeous.”

He scooted closer, leaning his head against mine silently. After a moment, I let myself lean against his shoulder a little more.

“You okay, Dean?” I asked after a beat.

“Of course. Why?”

“I dunno. You just seemed a little off when we got back today.”

He sighed. “Yeah. It’s— It’s nothing.”

“You sound like me, now.”

He chuckled. “Guess we’ve got the same bad habit, huh?”

“Yeah, guess so.”

We stayed there until it got dark enough to really see the stars come out, not moving even when the chill of the night started creeping in. I readjusted my head against his shoulder, preparing myself to speak again.

“Did you really follow me out here just to look at stars?”

I felt him still. Then, after a moment, I sat up a little straighter and looked at him. He glanced back at me, clearly feeling caught out.

“Thought you could use some company.”

I raised a brow, and he smirked, looking away.

“Alright, you got me,” he said, “What gave it away?”

“First off, I’ve known you for years,” I started, nudging him in the arm. “Second, Sam and Bobby were all uppity about the fact that you apparently told Sam you had something to talk to me about.”

“I swear, he can’t keep a secret to save his life when it comes to stuff like this,” he said, rubbing at his face.

“Well, try me,” I said, unable to keep my eyes off of him. He was extra cute all flustered. “I’m a good listener.”

He let out a breath, then looked at me, scanning my face for a moment.

“I know I’ve got a certain type of reputation—”

“You?! No way,” I exclaimed with a smile, my eyes wide.

He laughed. “Exactly my point.”

“You know I don’t care about that, though. Reputations are a one-sided story.”

He hummed. “Yeah. I guess you’re right.”

He sighed, looking back at the sky for a moment.

“I just,” he started, giving a shrug, “I feel like it— Like it makes people feel like I never want anything but a hookup, you know?”

“It makes people feel that way?”

“I’m that easy to read, huh?” he asked, looking at me again with a faint smile. “You. I mean you.”

“I gathered that much.”

He laughed softly, as did I.

“How’d you know?”

“I had suspicions fueled by Bobby. Then you kissed me and started being all affectionate when you thought I was asleep this morning.”

His eyes widened. “You were pretending to be asleep? That’s so not fair!”

“Hey, I woke up snuggled into my own personal space heater, I didn’t exactly want to be up and at ‘em.”

He rolled his eyes, tugging me into his side with an arm around my shoulders once more.

“How long has it been for you?” he asked quietly.

“I don’t even know. I guess I started realizing it a year or so ago.”

“That’s embarrassing for me, then. I knew the second I met you,” he said with a laugh.

“Dean,” I said with surprise. “It’s been half a decade! No wonder Bobby got on my ass about it before we left.”

“Well, hey, Sammy’s been on mine for a couple years. You got off easy up till now.”

I laughed. “I guess so. To be fair, we were flying under the radar for quite a while, though. The incessant flirting the past few weeks is what got us in trouble.”

“Why did you start being extra flirty, anyway?” he asked, resting his cheek against the top of my head.

“I don’t know. I guess I was, like, subconsciously seeing a window. You haven’t been doing your normal bar hookups the past few months, so I thought maybe there was a reason for it,” I paused. “Though, finding out you’ve been crushing on me for five years kind of makes me question that.”

He snorted out a laugh. “Easier to keep my mind off you that way. That sounds terrible. I just— I never thought in a million years you’d think anything of me.”

“Well, when did you realize I might?”

He sighed. “You remember a couple weeks back when we were taking down that vamp nest? You easily could’ve died, and we hugged afterwards, but when I pulled back I… I saw that look in your eyes that seemed an awful lot like how I look at you when you’re not paying attention. I wanted to kiss you, and I didn’t doubt in that moment that you would’ve let me if I had.”

I paused. “Why didn’t you?”

“I was scared. We’ve been friends for so long, and we practically do everything together. I didn’t want to ruin anything on the off chance that I was reading those signs all wrong.”

“You weren’t.”

He fell quiet for a moment. I looked up at him, and he looked back at me as I did. He quickly wet his lips, drawing my gaze downward before my eyes flicked back up to his. His lips parted momentarily. Then…

“We should get back inside. It’s getting cold out here,” he said quickly.

I nodded curtly, pulling away to let him get off the hood first. He gave me a hand, helping me down next. We walked back to the house quietly, saying soft goodnights before we went to separate rooms.

I was all settled in for the night, cozy in my bed with a book in hand. Then, I heard a knock on the door. I grumbled as I got up, annoyed that I had to leave the comfort of a mattress that wasn’t a sure cesspool of germs I didn’t want to think about. I flung the door open.

“Someone better be dying or I’m gonna kick some ass for—”

Dean’s lips crashed into mine, effectively silencing me from my rant. I melted after a few seconds of mental delay, my hands gripping onto the material of his shirt as his cradled my face. I felt him smile into the kiss, drawing my closer with arms that snuck around my waist, holding me tight. He wasted no time in deepening the kiss once he was sure that the signs were all giving him a positive response.

We finally broke apart a few minutes later, breathing heavy with pounding hearts.

“I figured I should stop letting opportunities pass me up,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

I nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, good thinking.”

His eyes scanned over me, his chest still heaving.

“You wouldn’t happen to need another space heater for the night, would you?”

“I run cold, what can I say?” I replied with a smirk, and a spark in my eye.

He smiled, walking me into the room with his lips on mine, kicking the door shut behind him.

(EDIT: starting taglists now! let me know if you want to be on any!)

FULL MASTERLIST | BUY ME A COFFEE

[tams-writeblr]

Love in a hopeless Place 29

Synopsis: She was barely grown up, when she stepped into the bar that was the center of Zaun's resistance. The people she met there would forever change her life, and one of them especially. Silco x reader/OC; first-person POV; overall rating: E for Explicit; canon-compliant (though I might make a stretch on the timeline here and there to make things fit my symbolism); age gap! (younger female, older male); 9 chapters; 45k; cis female reader/POV; no beta-reader; completed Chapter ratings/warnings: E for Explict, smut, unprotected intercourse, I think the recommended song already says a lot, mentions of past trauma and miscarriage Wordcount: 2 k Author's note: Aww man, I don't know what to say. People probably wouldn't go to someone who treats them like this to spill their heart out, but this is a flimsy fanfiction, so I don't care. Have fun. Comments would be appreciated!

Today's music recommendation: The Bravery - Hatefuck

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Act III

Chapter I

Part 7/7

Indeed, when I next saw Kev, he had a massive cut on his lip and was sporting a nice black eye.

He was furiously ignoring me, but I wasn't sad about it.

It was Thursday, and each Thursday I went upstairs to discuss the weekly settlements with Silco. As I took the books upstairs and gently knocked on the door to his office, I heard Mimi quietly argue with Kev.

Mimi was always so nice to me, had always been, but I knew that she also despised Silco. She already did when we were younger.

I remembered that I also hated this version of Silco, as he let me enter his office.

A dark, heavy desk had replaced Vander's simple one. Dusty old furniture had been brought upstairs, giving the relatively large room a claustrophobic feel, as if we were in a haunted castle. The girls' room, of course, was unaltered and the boys' room had been changed into Sevika's. I hadn't seen the changes they had made to Vander's old bedroom, and I didn't care.

Speaking of Sevika, she stood at one side of the room, sporting her new robotic arm, fuelled by Shimmer. Horrible stuff, yet interesting what possibilities it carried.

I delivered the week's earnings minus the wages for everybody, including me.

Silco's eyes ran over my notes, distracted. "Sevika, you can wait outside," he suddenly uttered without looking up.

The other woman and me exchanged a quick glance before she marched out.

Silco leaned back in his heavy leather chair and placed a hand over his face.

I didn't want to ask what was wrong - that was clearly none of my business.

His hand pressed against the left side of his face, his aquamarine right eye wandered restless. "Could you do me a favor, kid? In that drawer over there is a vial. Would you please give it to me?"

Without replying, I turned around and opened the furniture as I was told. 

Between notebooks and pens was a strange gadget with a needle and Shimmer in it.

My jaw tensed as I handed the gadget over. I cringed as he pinched his eye with the small needle, injecting a small dose of Shimmer.

Then he noticeably relaxed.

I hadn't been aware that he consumed his own drug. "Better?", I taunted.

He got up from his chair and walked around the desk. "Way better," he growled and stood beside me. "Now I see things much more clearly."

I shuddered at the coldness of his voice.

His eyes only browsed my notes before coming back to my face. "You've been giving me quite the cold shoulder recently. I thought we've agreed that you'll be nice to me once in a while?"

I dodged his hand that was coming to touch my face. "I'm already nicer to you than you deserve."

If he was angry, he knew how to hide it. "It's not fair that you haven't changed a bit in seven years. Me, on the other hand..." He sighed deeply and ran a hand over his face. "I'm already turning gray."

"I didn't know you were vain, old man," I grinned but earned a scowl for it.

"Watch your mouth, kid, you hear that?"

I rolled my eyes. "You wanna shut me up again? So, you sign the settlement?"

He hunched over, grabbed a pen and placed his signature under the cash report.

As I reached for the book, he didn't let go of it.

"If I give you this now, you'll just leave."

"Yes," I replied blankly. I tried to shut up the turmoil in my chest as his light eye dug into my heart.

His scent engulfed me and did his usual magic on me.

I wanted to press cotton balls drenched in acetone to my nostrils so that I was finally free from this power his freaking perfume had over me. But there I was, catching myself staring at this man's sharp features.

A man that had caused so much pain, not only for me, but for half of the Undercity.

Shimmer, he really had brought it under the people. And while it was a relatively new drug, it was already causing problems in the streets. And flushed massive sums of money into Silco's pockets.

"Do you want to leave?", he finally asked, not breaking eye contact.

I shook my head no.

As his eyes wandered to my lips, my body moved on its own. Lips crashing into each other, he firmly wrapped his arms around my shoulders.

I dug my fingers into the fabric of his vest as he devoured me alive. I hated it, but he instantly made me feel so good. As his sharp incisors scratched over my lower lip, I hissed.

We both grasped for air.

"I shouldn't do this," I panted, only to go for another starved kiss. "I promised I wouldn't forgive you."

He pulled away slightly and looked me stern in the face. "Forgiveness is a big word. Sometimes acceptance is all you can give." He caressed my cheek with his knuckles before falling over my neck. 

Teeth, digging deep into my sensitive flesh, made me moan in a mixture of pleasure and pain.

He sucked the spot between my neck and shoulder so hard, I was convinced it would leave a stain.

I shoved his lips back to mine and a dance over the dominance in this unfolded. Finally, I let him have it his way, and he pressed my hips firmly against the heavy wood of his desk. I felt his hardness through both our pants.

His hands glided down my body, resting on my lower abdomen as his eyes searched for approval in my eyes.

I didn't know if he found what he was looking for, but I went straight for the ridiculous number of buttons on his pants.

He pulled me for another breathtaking kiss, before flipping me over, bending me harshly over his desk while exposing the cheeks of my ass at the same time. His one hand caressed my spine and held me in place, while the other quickly inspected my folds. Silco sucked his teeth. "My, how are you already so wet for me?"

I heard the sounds of pants being shuffled down and gasped as his head touched my wetness.

He groaned deeply as he pushed in with one swift movement.

I hissed over the sudden sensation of fullness. It had been a while for me, and I had to get used to his dick filling me out so perfectly again.

"You're good, kid?", he whispered.

I only nodded against the wood of the desk.

Then he instantly started thrusting into me. He kept the pace relatively low at first, in return his pushes were deliberate and heavy.

I couldn't help moaning loudly, not caring if anybody would hear me.

His lewd noises were more controlled than mine, and he finally placed a hand over my mouth. "Not all of Zaun has to hear you," he panted.

The lack of air coming in from my mouth made me a little dizzy, but the sensation added up with the pooling hotness in my core. I accidentally bit his hand as I came undone, making him yelp.

He spanked my ass as punishment. "You dirty little animal. Hope you're not having rabies."

I chuckled at his insult, and a second later, he painted my walls white.

Well, that wasn't agreed upon...

"What was that about?", I snarled as we both came down from our high. "I thought you'd pull out."

Silco was licking the wound I bit in his hand. "And ruin your pretty little blouse?", he murmured between two licks. He checked, and the bleeding had stopped. Then he put his pants back on and threw me his pocket square. "Here, clean yourself up."

After I was finished, I slammed the handkerchief on his desk. "What if I fall pregnant?"

He shrugged me off. "Just another mouth to feed. Shouldn't be a problem by now."

I looked at him angrily. "This isn't your decision to make."

He crashed down on his chair and hid his face in a hand. "I can't undo it now," he groaned.

I just stood there for a moment, confused about what this between us was now. As I grabbed my book and prepared to leave the office, his voice stopped me again.

"I would have done this with you back in the day," he admitted. "No, wrong. I even wanted this with you."

My eyes widened at the revelation. I gulped away a lump in my throat. "W-why didn't you say a word? I thought you hated kids."

He looked at me annoyed. "I don't hate kids. They're just bothersome sometimes. And why have I never said anything? Because you weren't growing tired of rubbing under my nose, how little you wanted to be a mother. And I mean, I get it. You were way too young for a child of your own back then. But...", he paused, and his eyebrows and shoulders grew soft. "... I thought we'd have all the time in the world to figure things out. I really meant, when I said, I'd be yours forever."

I remembered the night he told me this. The night before the riot. The night, he loved me like there was no tomorrow. Tears tickled in my eyes, making my breath hitch.

"You knocked me up the night you told me this." I covered my mouth as hot tears fell out of my eyes. I had locked this memory to the very back of my heart, but now he was unpacking all of it.

Silco slipped to the edge of his seat, the last color fading from his face, jaw dropping. As he held tight to the armrests, he pressed: "What happened to them?" As if I had a secret love child running around somewhere.

I hiccuped under my tears. "I lost it the same night, I lost you."

The words stood in the room like a wall between us.

Silco's figure dropped slightly, a hand rubbing over his eyebrows, before he stood straight and walked over to me again. As he gently embraced me in a hug, I got a glimpse of the man he once used to be. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't know either," I cried against his shoulder. "I had gotten my period the month before. I wasn't even morning sick. I was too dumb to recognize the small hints."

"The cravings, huh?" He brushed my hair back so that it wouldn't stick in my wet face. "You weren't dumb; you were young."

I fought back more tears and looked at his pained face. "It wouldn't have made a difference, would it? I had a feeling your decision had been final back then."

He took my face in his hands and looked at me carefully. "That would have changed so much." He shut the eye that was able to and took a few deliberate breaths. He clicked his tongue. "My, she would be six by now. If everything was going well, we could be sending her to school."

"Why do you think it would have been a girl?", I laughed bitterly.

Silco shrugged. "Always saw me as a girl-dad." He was right about that. Seeing him with Powder made that clear.

Yet I retreated from his embrace. "Please don't do this, Silco. Don't give me glimpses of what could have been."

He scratched his chin and took his gaze away from me. "It's not just a "what could have been". It's still possible. Jinx might be older than our child would be now, but with her, we could be this family. Despite, you're so young. I could definitely put one or two more into you, if you want me to."

A bitter taste took over my mouth as I retreated further. "No, you decided against me. You choose this instead." I spread my arms to point at the surrounding pomp.

He didn't close the gap between us, only watched me with pained eyes. "If only you gave yourself to me, I would lay the word to your feet."

"I don't want the world," I declared and broke eye contact. "I only wanted you."

With the cash book tightly pressed against my chest, I turned around and left without looking back.

[jounosnumberoneslut]

Just wanted to make me jealous?

Jouno Saigiku x Reader NSFW

Sorry for the grammatical mistakes and word repetitions, english isn't my native language!

This is my first fanfiction, hope you'll enjoy ♡

Pairings... Jouno Saigiku x fem!reader

Contains... celebration party, alcohol, party killer Jouno, dance with Tecchou, smut!, oral (fem!receiving), dom!Jouno, begging, tummy bulge, dirty talk, hair pulling, masochist reader, choking

AFAB reader

You’ve joined to the Hunting Dogs one month ago, finished your first mission succesfully with Jouno and Tecchou that’s why the team thought, this must be celebrated with a party.

You was in your apartment at the HQ, getting ready for the night while listened your favourite music. It was a hot summer day so you picked a short black skirt with a black cami top as your outfit. You choose a black leather choker for accessory. Luckily the dresscode is not the hunting dog uniform this time. While putting on your eyeliner and dark red lipstick fantasied about what will wear the others.

You haven’t seen them in casual clothes except Tecchou. You had to bring up to his apartment a letter from Fukuchi at late night, he opened the door wearing only a grey boxer, probably you woke him up. Your cheeks turned red when you stared his muscles and abs instead of his eyes. He didn’t notice your reaction because he was sleepy.

You checked yourself in the mirror last time, sprayed yourself with parfume and headed to the office what was the party’s spot.

You walked next to the building where your office was, you already heard the loud music from inside. You opened the door and what you saw. Fukuchi singed into his bottle of beer:

- I’ve been searching for a man, all across Japan, just to find, to find my samurai! – while pointing with his other hand toward Tecchou who danced with his sword.

In the corner at the table Jouno with his head down covering his ears, said:

- Finally Y/n! Do something with these two! They are giving me headache!

- What’s wrong Jouno? – Fukuchi laughed.

- The loud music pain in my ass, I don’t need your false voice too! Anyway Y/n has arrived she is the reason why we are here. – Jouno answered with his head on the table.

Tecchou threw away his sword, opened his arms and hugged you tightly. He wears a dark grey shorts decorated with a lance on it, and a black singlet so you can see his well muscled arms. And feel them around you... On the top of his head was a lighting party glasses. You hugged him back.

- Wow Tecchou how much did you drink already?

- aonly one glass of whiskeycola with BBQ sauce. – Jouno answered to my question instead of Tecchou who looked devestating to him. You thought he should be drink more to acting like this.

- What do you want to drink Y/n? – Fukuchi asked you and turned lower the music.

- I would whsikeycola too but without BBQ thank you...

Your boss poured it for you while the rest of hunting dogs has arrived. Teruko wears a small glittered dark pink dress and Tachihara? He almost lost in his elegant suit, he’s a kid.

- I told, you will come to the party 10 years younger than you really – Teruko laughed on him.

- Don’t mess with me Teruko! I will be drunk very quickly with this body!

You chuckled on his situation. You was happy they gathered because of you, and of course they like to have fun too. Except Jouno who still sitting in the corner of the office. To be honest, you liked him from the beginning. He is smart and mysterious, you heard from the others he likes or just liked to torture people. Quiet, calm and serious, but it’s funny to see him arguing with Tecchou. He is blind, but sometimes he is better in fight thanks to his hightened senses what stimulated your mind. You walked toward to him.

- Can I sit down? – you asked. He wears an elegant peach xolored shirt and a dark brown pants.

- Of course you can. Besides I want to congratulation to you, for your first succed mission. – he kindly smiled to you.

- Thank you. What do you drink Jouno? – you asked and wanted to clink with him for the celebration.

- Coffee. My senses dulling under the effects of alcohol. Incidintally I handle with the booze well, just difficult to sense anything around me then. – he explained.

- Oh, I see. So you won’t clink with me? – you looked at him dissapointed – Just a glass of something? – Teruko appeared on his side with a bottle of whiskey and a glass, started to pour the alcohol in it.

- I hope this meets your needs Sir – she said and gave to him the glass of whsikey.

- What do you want? – the white haired man asked her suspiciously – You never act like this.

- I just never saw you drink. I’m curious how will it affect you. Maybe will you dance? – her eyes are sparkled as if it were her greatest desire.

- I won’t dance. I lose my sense of space because of the loud music...

- Then, we will dance instead of you! Come Y/n!

You felt bad about him. He doesn’t look like who likes to dance or being drunk. Just imagined yourself in his place. Your heartbeat changed, he could feel it.

- Don’t worry about me. I’m having a great time, go dance with the others, I won’t leave. – how he said his last word clinked his glass to yours. – Cheers darling!

And he drank what was in your glass like you did.

You went to the others, drank more and more. Danced together with the adult Tachihara after Teruko changed his real age back. You felt yourself a little fuzzy, knew your place, just was a little bit feisty. You had a long slim fitting dance with Tecchou who was behind you caresses your hips and gave soft kisses to your neck. You played with his locks. Jouno noticed your little play and walked toward to you.

- I think I’m going home. This was a great party but enough for me. Good night! – he said without emotions and went to the door. You separated from Tecchou and went after him.

- Wait Jouno! I wanted to go too, wait for me please, just say goodbye to everyone.

- I’ll wait outside. Hurry.

You went back to Tecchou, gave a kiss on to his cheek. He was kinda cute, didn’t wanted to do anything what you don’t want, just flirted like you with him. You said goodnight to everyone and left them, they turned up the music louder and continued to dance.

Jouno waited for you at the side of the building.

- You didn’t look like who want to leave.

- But I am. This was enough for me too. I doesn’t want to be too drunk before I do something stupid. Anyway, if you are the reason of the party, and can't pay attention for everyone that’s not fun. So, would you like to come home with me?

He was suprised what you said, couldn’t find the words, just nodded.

You entered in your apartment, took off your shoes and walked into your kitchen.

- Do you want to drink something? – you asked.

- Water please. – he said. You opened your fridge and took of a bottle of water and a sake. You him the water.

- One shot of sake? – you asked.

- I’m in.

You poured sake for the two of you. Jouno raised his glass to you.

- Thank you for the invitation. It’s very kind from you. – he drank a little bit of his booze – I’d bet Tecchou will stand here tonight. Or you in his bed. – you chuckled on this.

- No no no. I don’t want anything from Tecchou. I mean, I like him so much, he’s very cute and kind. His body is wow, his hair... I enjoyed his approach but...

- But? – Jouno cut you off, drank his sake down to the last drop and moved closer to you . – You like him, so what’s the problem?

He felt your fastened heartbeat. You was confused, couldn’t find the words, didn’t know the right answer. But you knew.

- I just don’t want him like that. – you answered a little bit more tetchier. He stepped more closer, you were within reach neither from each other now.

- Then who do you want like „that”? – another step forward you.

- No one. – you asked quickly.

- This is a despicable lie you’re telling dear. – he smiled devilishly, placed one of his hand under your chin, made you look at him. You flinched of his touch and nearness.

- You can’t lie to me do you know? When we were on that mission, I took you cover, you acted like now. You was flustered because of my touch... When I took of my cape and spread it on you because you were cold. You checked my build. – he chuckled – I offered to take off my top and give it to you, ensure that you warm up faster. I felt how your heartbeat changed. You were embarrassed by the thought of my half naked body. And tonight’s special production from you and Tecchou? Just wanted to make me jealous. You don’t want anything from him... but from me?  I’m standing here in your apartment not him, this isn’t an accident. Tell me if I’m wrong dear.

His smile is cocky, your lips are inches from his. You can’t say a single word. You are blusted. Your face is full red now, lost in your thoughts. Impossible to hide your feels before him. He didn’t hesitate to catch your lips. His mouth is soft, you can taste the sake on it. He played with yours then entered in. Wasn’t rough, but passionate how his tounge explored your mouth. He breaking off the kiss.

- This is what you wanted right? – he asked, you could feel his breath on your skin.

Your answer was to jumped on him, wrapped your legs around his waist. He held you under your tiny skirt, felt his big hands on your butt. You were in each others mouth, he carried you to your couch, lied you down. He crawled onto you, smoothed your hair away from your face, softly bit your cheek and whispered in your ear:

- You are already wet aren’t you? I smell it, may I taste it?

He turned you more and more, didn’t want to believe, Jouno Saigiku leaned over you. He placed small kisses to your skin while climbing down to your wet spot. One of his hand wandered up to squizze your breast, massaged it. You let out a quiet moan. He rolled up your skirt, kissed your skin around your pantie. Put his nose into your clothed pussy, smelled in it’s fragrance. He licked the fabric and then, like a predator who tasted the blood, with a sudden movement ripped off your pantie. He kissed in your juicy pussy rough, panted into it. He licked it from above to below. Jouno eated you out like no one ever. You runned your fingers through his white locks while moaned his name quietly, what he heard perfectly.

- You are so tasty. – whispered into your burning core.

Then he started to circling around your clit with the tip of his tongue.

- Ahh Jouno! – you moaned his name throwing back your head down from the couch.

- Cum in my mouth dear.

He spread your pussylips and sucked your clit softly, then rougher and rougher. You grabbed his hair, pushed his face more into it, screamed his name while your thighs acted on their own, squizzed his head. You came in his mouth, how he ordered.

- Good girl, how obdient. – he leaned up close to your face and gave you a passionate kiss. You could taste yourself, his face soaked from your juice - Now please tell me, where can I find your bedroom? – he placed your hand to his crotch – you have another mission here.

- First door after the kitchen... – you said shakily.

Jouno picked you up easily, carried you to your bedroom and lied you down to the soft bed. You sat up, so he could take off your top and unbrace your bra with one hand, then stopped on your neck, tightened a bit. Gave you a long kiss but now you can’t order to you. You started to unbutton his shirt and unzip his pants. He chuckled in your mouth on your movements, got up on his knees and took of his shirt and pants. You finally could see his muscles, abs and his erection under his boxer.

- Do you like the view? – he asked.

- So much... – while you answered his question crawled onto him, making him lay down to his back.

Now you are on him. Placed small kisses from his neck, through his collarbone, chest and abs until you reached down to his hard member. He flinched slightly at all your kisses, his skin is sensitive too. You pulled down his boxer to free his aching  cock. It is long and thin, with few vessel. You saw the precum bubbling out from his it. First licked his balls, went up through his lenght, then tasted his fluid. He let out a sigh and brushed your hair with his fingers. You took off your skirt, crawled over him and positioned yourself above his dick. Grabbed it gently and placed to your entrance, sat down slowly to his lenght. You moaned, waited for this feeling since you met this man above you.

- You are so tight baby, feels so good to my cock.

You slowly moved up and down on his hard member, he reached your boobs, massaged them and played with your nipples. You moaned, loved the touch of his hands. Bounced harder on him, placed your hands to his chest and abs, tried to find the balance. Your right hand moved up to his neck squizzed it while moaned his name. Suddenly he grabbed your throat tightly and pushed back into the bad, changed the roles.

- You... can’t... do that. – whispered in your ears.

A teardrop rolled down on your face, he licked it down and smiled devilishly to you.

- Are you crying already? I didn’t even touch you... You won’t able to walk tomorrow...

- Hahaha – you laughed – I like pain silly boy. I enjoy it better thank you think – smirked and licked his lower lip.

- Really? Do you know that my hobby is torturing people? I think we’re gonna get along.

He didn’t hesitate, pushed his cock balls deep in your wet pussy. You screamed but smiled at the same time. He still choked you when your hands came behind his back and hugged him tightly. Your sweaty bodies sticked together, you felt his muscular chest on your tits. He pumped deep in you then suddenly stopped. Jouno placed his hand on your tummy and pressed it down. He wanted to feel his hard cock from outside of you. You touched it yourself, he is so long, it bulging out from your lower tummy. You smiled to each other like two sick pervert and he continued moving faster and faster. He hit your G-spot, you fel another orgasm coming and clawed through his bare back make him to slow down. All of sudden he slapped your face.

- You fucking whore! To hurt me is not allowed to you! Turn around for me!

You was suprised cause the slap but you loved this sadistic side of Jouno. Made you more horny. You kneeled with your ass before him, pushed his cock deep in your pussy and moved faster than before. Pressed down your head into the pillows, with his other hand slapped your butt. You could hardly breath but smiled, enjoyed the situation.

- Jouno, Jouno, ahh fuck me harder, yes, I wanna cum, you are so deep!

You are out of your mind, Jouno suprised, he could able to know many things about you but not everything. You were already lying under him,  he moaned a little bit louder, you finally heard his voice like this. He pushed yourself so deep as he can, trembled of his orgasm and laid on you. You felt his full weight on you, waited a little while he catching his breath and moved next to him. You felt his sperm leaking out from your pussy. He lied to his back, pulls you onto his chest, gave a kiss to your head.

- I’ll kill Tecchou if he touches you again.

- So, did I make you jealous? – you chuckled.

- Maybe...

Thank you for @win-writes @iovetecchou and @stinkyme whos inspired me to write my first own, and whos works keep me alive in the everyday ♡

and ofc @nikolaiismysugardaddy whom I talk everyday and inspired each other ♡

masterlist

[myocsfanfictions]

South Side Story

Shameless Fanfiction Season 1

Desna Hills has come living in the Southside of Chicago four years before. Taken in by Kev and V, Desna is close friends with the Gallaghers. Let's see how this Southside story unfolds.

MASTERLIST

<< Previous - Next >>

Chapter 16

That was truly a fucked up situation. Apparently That boy had been missing for few hours. He had disappeared from a birthday party and now the police was searching for him in the streets of Chicago. Veronica and Desna had figure it out whilt talking with Kev, because a police car had passed by their house making an announcement about the boy.

“Shit, it’s him. They are speaking of him on the TV, with pictures,” Desna said turning it off. Why did the Gallagher had that baby?

“Fucking Gallaghers,” Kevin said, before Veronica went to take back the baby in her arms.

“Des, go in the bathroom and take the laundry basket,” V said and Desna even if she frowned she did what she asked, “Kev, take those t-shirts.”

“What are we doing?” Asked Desna getting back in the living room.

“We’re bringing him back to the Gallaghers,” V said putting the baby in the basket.

“Yeah, baby!” Kevin exclaimed proudly.

The three of them froze when they heard another police car passing in the street.

“All right let’s be quick about it,” Desna said covering the boy. That’s how they found themselves trying to reach the Gallagher’s house as fast as they could. And the three of them exited their house as if they were robbing it. They really risked big trouble for that.

As they made it to the Gallaghers’ house V banged at the door, “Open up, hurry!” She yelled. Desna was looking at the street, the moment before the door was opened felt like an eternity. But when they finally entered the house she felt breathing again.

“What the hell is going on?” Veronica asked, as Desna’s eyes met Lip’s, who had been the one opening the door, and she stopped next to him.

“What happened?” She asked him in a whisper.

He took an heavy breath, “Debbie.”

Desna frowned, “What?”

“Is this that missing baby?” Kev asked showing them the basket.

“Debbie stole him,” as Fiona stated to explain Desna’s eyes widened, “And now we have to figure out how to give him back without getting her 36 month in juvie.”

"Why in the world would she-" But Fiona stopped Veronica to not keep going. Desna looked at Lip again, his hand passing over him mouth.

"There must be a couple of hundreds cops out there," Kevin said looking out of the window.

"His face is all over the TV," Desna added crossing her arms over her chest, her eyes moved to Debbie. Why did she do that?

"I know," said Fiona, "I'm so sorry," then she turned to Debbie as everyone stood up. She told her to keep an eye on the baby, and they all followed thh oldest Gallagher into the kitchen.

"I'm not sure what's going on with her," Fiona admitted sitting on the chair.

"Well, maybe it's because your mom bailed and Frank is a big drunk," Desna slapped Kevin's arm as she passed by. All true, but maybe he could have said it with less sarcasm.

"What?" Kevin exclaime, "Am I the asshole now? She's the one who stole a baby!" Both her and Vee glared at the man.

Desna was sitting next to Lip when he started to speak, "Look, she obviously planned it."

"Why?" Desna asked softly, already see how he and his siblings were worried.

"She took a stroller out of the garbage and fixed it," he explained.

"That's what she used?" Lip nodded.

"And she waved a candy bar at him," he added and Desna closed her eyes.

"Jeasus..." she muttered.

"Hey, Debbie is still a little kid," Steve said from next to Fiona, "Worst things that happens is that she gets some help."

"Help?" Lip exclaimed.

"What kind of help?" Ian asked with a frown.

"She stole a baby," Steve stated. Fiona's expression matched with her brothers as she spoke.

"She is not crazy," she said, "She just sort of accidentally took a kid."

By what they were saying ut didn't sound so accidental.

"Not of she lured out of the yard with a candy bar," Steve exclaimed. Fiona moved back, putting some distance between them.

"What are you suggesting?" She asked aggressively.

"Some kind of professional-" but Lip interruped him.

"What a shrink?" His leg moving up and down so Desna put an hand on it to try and give some comfort.

"Gallaghers do not do therapy," Fiona stated, just before that another police car went by the window. It was only a matter of time before someone would have knocked on the door. Desna looked up at Lip as he put his hand over hers.

"Lip, we need a plan to get that boy back to his family," Fiona said looking at her brother, "Or Family Services is gonna have a field day."

"Family Services?" Steve asked.

"If they find out Frank's moved, they'll take the kids, split them up," Fiona explained, "Remember what happened last time?"

"Shit..." Lip muttered.

That was true, Frank was their father, and if their guardian didn't live with thrm anymore for the Family Services the presence of Fiona ment nothing. What a fucked up situation.

“Okay,” Lip said, “Okay, let me think about it for a minute,” Ian got up from the couch.

“I’ll look for Carl,” he said heading out. As Fiona stood up to make coffee with Vee.

Desna stood up to take a notebook on the cabinet next to Kev, then she went back to Lip, his legs moving nervously. She looked at him for a moment, before kneeling before him, “Hey, you’ll make it,” she said, one of her hands went to his thigh.

“If I don’t?” He asked, eyeing Debbie, but Desna made him look back at her.

“You’re the smartest person I know,” she said gently, giving him the notebook, “You can do this, Lip,” he observed her for a moment, before nodding his head. Her eyes followed his movements as his hand opened the notebook.

“Tell me if you need anything,” she said.

“Stay here,” he answered. They both shared a glance, before she set down next to him on the couch. He’s been there scripting for some time, writing times and roads, at some point Desna even went to take a map of the city so that he could pinpoint the different key places.

“Alright,” he said at some point, “I think I got it,” she smiled at him.

“Really?” He nodded and quickly they gathered everyone to the living room to hear Lip’s plan.

“Carl, come here,” Lip said, making his brother to sit on the coffee table, “You know that payphone that’s outside the Kash and Grab?”

Carl nodded, “Yeah?”

“I want you to get on the bike,” Lip kept saying, “Go to the payphone and call the police. Tell them that you saw a little boy walking down Southport Avenue at 2:45. Okay?”

Carl frowned, “Why should I?”

“Wanna be in a children’s home until you’re eighteen?” Ian asked from the couch.

Carl shrugged his shoulders, “Group home on Union has a climbing wall.”

“Carl!” Fiona exclaimed, making the boy scoff.

“I don’t have a bike,” he argued, but Ian had a solution for that.

“Wire cutter’s in the drawer.”

Lip rubbed his eyes before looking towards Fiona, “Alright,” he said, “Steve, Fiona, you guys have to get Debs to take that kid back.”

“I don’t know how I can make that happen,” Fiona said with a hand on her forehead. And Desna glanced at Debbie who was playing in the kitchen with the boy.

“Fiona, you have to or else we are all fucked,” Lip insisted, finally having his sister to agree to his plan.

“Alright,” Lip said, “I’ve made up a story that she had to tell to the police.”

Debbie had to learn the story where she was walking down Southport Avenue and she saw the kid alone who was crying, so she had asked him where his mom was, but he didn’t know. Since he was crying she gave him chocolate.

Fiona nodded her head, memorizing what Lip had said, then he turned to Vee.

“I want you to the cleaners, ask Mrs. Bergdoll to use the phone.”

“That woman is a cold bitch,” stated Veronica and Desna could agree. That woman wouldn’t give a smile or a gentle word to anyone, she was pretty sure she wouldn’t have even give a glass of water is a person was dying of thirst.

“I’ve got something for that, okay? Don’t worry about it,” Lip assured.

“Are you talking about pot?” Desna asked with looking at Lip.

“Precisely,” he said nodding his head, “Okay you go there and you say that you’ve seen the boy with a little girl about 15 minutes before on Grand Avenue.”

“Grand Avenue, alright,” Veronica answered.

“But the police could ask why she didn’t call anyone,” Ian said, but Lip had an answer even for that.

“I’ll broke the telephone on Grand Avenue,” he said, “And she could say that she asked to people but nobody helped her because she is poor.”

“Humanity sucks,” Desna said, “Accurate.”

“Des,” he said turning to her, “I need you to go to where Colin Jones works.”

“Colin Jones?” She asked and he nodded.

“The guy in your math class that has a crush on you since your first year,” Lip said.

“I know who he is, I don’t know where he works,” she said before frowning, “Or that he has a crush on me.”

“The comic book store, at the end of Grand Avenue,” he said, “You go there, say that you need to use the phone to call the police, and tell them that you’ve seen the boy everyone is talking about and a girl walking and in hand on the street.”

“Okay,” she said.

“Tell them that you’ve just saw them, but that you’ve lost them, at the traffic light.”

“Alright,” she answered.

“I’ll come get you there with Ian and then we’ll go back towards Sheila’s house.” Desna nodded her head.

“Kev,” Lip said, “What time do you go into work today?”

“I go at 6,” he answered sitting next to Vee.

“You’re going in early,” Lip said shaking his head, “Tell them you saw a little boy in a Superman costume just passing by you. Someone will tell you that they who is the little boy and you’ll call for the police as well. In this way we’ve got covered the street and the hour, once the police will talk with Debbie everything will fit with the reports.”

The plan was set. And if everything went according to plan, they should all be save. Vee was taking care of the baby, while Fiona and Steve were talking to Debbie. Carl and Ian had went outside to take the wire cutter and Desna and Lip were in the kitchen. As Desna was getting Liam ready, she noticed Lip going through his notes again.

“The plan is perfect, Lip,” she said trying to calm his nerves.

“It all depends on Debbie,” he said, his leg bouncing up and down. Desna smiled at Liam, before setting him back into his crib, then she walked towards Lip.

“She’ll do it, and she’ll do great,” she said touching his hair, “You’re plan is amazing,” he turned to her, circling her hips with his arm. He smiled, but of course he was worried. They heard steps on the stairs, to reveal Fiona, “Debbie agreed, she knows the story,” she said, “Get ready to go.”

“Alright,” Lip said as his sister ran back upstairs.

“You ready?” Lip asked Desna, that smiled.

“I am,” then she kissed his cheek, “It’s gonna be alright,” he nodded.

“See you there,” he said just before she put her coat on and headed out the door.

She was confident in the plan. She had to be confident that everything was going according to it as well.

Desna made her way to the comic book store, taking a breath, before entering inside.

“Hello,” she said trying to put some hurry into her voice, “There’s anyone here?”

From behind the shelves appeared Colin Jones. He was a slim guy, taller than Desna, his hair was blond and his eyes dark.

“Desna Hills?” He asked her with wide eyes.

“Colin,” she said walking towards him.

“Is everything alright?” He asked observing her.

“Yeah, no..” she said looking between him and the door, “I think I just saw the boy everybody is talking about. Can I use your phone?”

“Mine?” He asked and she looked at him with a little frown.

“Yours or the shops,” she said, “I just need to call the police.”

“Oh, sure, here,” he said giving her his phone, and Desna was quick to thank him gently. When the police officer answered she gave him her part of the story, trying to sound agitated as well as helpful. As she finished to gave her report, she ended the call, giving the phone back to Colin, who blushed.

“Thank you very much,” she said with a smile.

“No worries,” he stuttered. In that moment the bell of the shop made them turn. They truly where synchronized. She was sure it was Lip and Ian, but her breath dipped in her throat when she saw Iggy Milkovich. His eyes found her and the usual smirk appeared.

“Thank you, Colin,” she said wanting to get out of that shop as soon as she could, “See you at school.”

She was quick to exit from there, but she felt her heart beat faster when she heard the door open behind her.

Shit…

“Aren’t you going too fast?” Iggy’s voice came from behind her, “Don’t you even say hi?”

“I’ve got somewhere to be,” that was not true but she would have found other ways to find Lip and Ian.

Iggy stopped her, appearing in front of her, “You seem eager to get on my bad side,” he hissed.

“I actually would prefer for you to fuck off,” she said, but she gasped when he grabbed her arm.

“You don’t want to do that,” he hissed, “You don’t want to get me angry.”

“Or what?” She hissed back. But he smirked again.

“I’ll give you one last chance,” he said, and she felt herself getting pale and her hands shaking, “Be a nice little girl and give me what I want, or there are going to be consequences,” she felt her body freeze as she looked at him and those eyes that where becoming scarier by the day.

“Des!” Lip’s voice came from behind her. And Iggy was quick to let her go and walk away. It didn’t take long for her to feel Lip’s hands on her arms.

“Hey, what’s going on?” He asked observing her face, as his hand moved to hers, stopping from shaking.

“Why was Iggy Milkovich talking to you?” Ian asked with a frown.

“Did he do something?” Lip asked searching for her gaze, “Des?”

She wanted to tell him that Iggy was scaring her, that there was something that really was making her uneasy about that guy and what he was saying to her. But she knew that it had been her fault. She had fucked with that guy and now he was acting that way. He was a criminal, probably being in juvie more times that he had been at school, what was she expecting?

“Nothing,” she said, her mouth dry, “It’s okay,” she knew that Lip didn’t believed her, but she shook her head, moving away, “It’s alright, we have to go to Sheila’s.”

“Des!” Lip said when she started to walk.

“Come on,” she just said. The beat of her heart loud in her chest.

********

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[emma-m-black]

Doctor White - Chapter Ten

Tom Koracick x OC (FanFiction)

This is a super rough draft of a Tom Koracick x OC story I've had in my head. I got a ton of chapters done, but then kind of his a block at a cliff hanger and I figure, perhaps if I post it, maybe I can figure out what to do next.

Rating is probably close to PG, don't think there is any spicey bits, pretty tame.

Read: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five, Chapter Six, Chapter Seven, Chapter Eight, Chapter Nine,

Chapter Ten:

Elizabeth sat hunched over her microscope, glaring at the smear of liquified gel that refused to cooperate. She gritted her teeth as the frustration bubbled over, her patience finally snapping. With a sharp motion, she snatched a petri dish from the table and hurled it across the lab. The shattering glass rang out, and the stubborn gel compound slithered mockingly down the pristine white wall, leaving an oozing streak in its wake.

“Remind me not to make you angry,” came Owen Hunt’s teasing voice from the doorway.

Elizabeth barely turned her shoulders rigid. “The gel keeps liquifying. Everything works fine until it reaches internal temperatures, and then it all falls apart. Every test since getting the chemo solution has failed. I thought I had it figured out, and now…” Her voice trailed off, bitter with exhaustion.

“Maybe it’s time for a break,” Owen suggested as he stepped inside, hands stuffed into his scrub pockets. “You’ve been locked in here for days, and when you’re not in the lab, you’re tailing Amelia or covering her service. You need to get out of this hospital.”

Elizabeth turned her chair to face him, her tired eyes flashing defensively. “Don’t judge me, Mr. ‘I adopted a kid and moved in with my ex-wife.’ I think I’m doing just fine.”

Owen smiled faintly, unbothered. “Come with me to Jo and Alex’s wedding tomorrow.”

Elizabeth blinked at him, taken aback. “What?”

“Be my date.”

She opened her mouth to protest, her mind scrambling for an excuse—I don’t date coworkers, I don’t date at all,—but the words tangled on her tongue. Instead, she blurted, “What about Amelia?”

“She’s actually the one who told me to get off my ass and invite you,” Owen replied.

Before Elizabeth could process that, another voice interrupted.

“She’d love to,” said Tom Koracick, breezing in behind Owen with a coffee in hand and a smug smile plastered across his face.

Elizabeth leaned sideways in her chair, squinting around Owen. “Doctor Koracick?”

Tom strolled to stand next to Owen, his white coat pristine, confidence radiating off him like an aura. “He’ll pick you up tomorrow after your CT scan.”

“Um… okay then,” Elizabeth muttered, thoroughly outmaneuvered.

“It’s settled,” Owen said, flashing a satisfied grin. “I’ll meet you in the residents’ lounge at three-thirty.” With that, he turned and left, leaving Elizabeth staring at the empty doorway, her thoughts spinning.

“Earth to Elizabeth,” Tom teased, waving a hand in front of her face. When she looked up at him, her expression was a mix of irritation and confusion.

“Why would you do that?” she asked, voice sharp but not quite angry.

Tom’s smile softened, almost fond. “Do what? Get you out of this lab and into the world?” He shrugged with mock innocence. “The guy likes you. Cut him some slack. Go, have a drink, wear a dress. I hear there’s an open bar.”

Elizabeth sighed and stood, pushing her chair back. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Tom pressed a hand to his heart dramatically, pretending to swoon. “Oh, I know. I’m sending the woman I’m pathetically pining over on a date with another man. The hero’s burden.”

She rolled her eyes but couldn’t fight the small smirk tugging at her lips. “You’re ridiculous.”

He followed her toward the door, still wearing that insufferable grin. “Ridiculously handsome, I think you meant. You’ll thank me tomorrow.”

The next afternoon, Elizabeth sat rigid on the CT table, the machine whirring around her. Her mind kept drifting, bouncing between the wedding and the dull ache in her chest that she couldn’t quite name. “Come on, Tom,” she huffed as she sat up impatiently, grabbing the robe she’d brought. “I need to go. I’m already late. My scans are fine—stop stalling.”

Tom appeared from behind the console, a tight smile plastered on his face. “You’re clear to go.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, grabbing her things and rushing out.

As she disappeared, Tom sat back down and stared at the computer screen. A shadow loomed behind him, and Amelia entered.

“You paged?” she asked. The teasing smile on her face faded instantly when she saw the look in his eyes.

Tom handed her the folder beside him, his hand unsteady. Amelia opened it, her breath catching when she read the name. “Elizabeth White.” She turned to the scans, studying the image intently.

“Where is she?” Amelia asked urgently. “Does she know?”

“No,” Tom said softly, his voice cracking. “I let her go. She has a date to get to, and I couldn’t… I can’t.” He ran a hand through his hair, blinking rapidly to keep his emotions at bay. “I thought we had time.”

“Elizabeth, are you ready?” Owen’s voice broke through the low hum of the resident’s lounge as he stepped inside. A few stragglers were packing up for the day, and his gaze searched for her among them.

“Yeah, sorry! Just need to throw my shoes on,” Elizabeth called, rushing out of the bathroom. She came to an abrupt stop in front of him, slipping her final earring into place.

“Hi.”

“Hi,” Owen greeted, his eyes sweeping over her. The baby pink lace dress she wore was modest—knee-length with cap sleeves and a high neckline—but the way it hugged her made him pause. “You look… amazing.”

Elizabeth flashed a smile, a bit of color rising in her cheeks. “Thanks. You clean up pretty good, too.”

“You ready?”

“Almost.” She turned to her cubby, pulled out a pair of flats, and slipped them onto her bare feet in one smooth motion. Grabbing her purse from the bench, she tucked it under her arm and straightened. “Now I’m ready.”

Owen extended an arm, and she looped hers through his without hesitation. Together, they strolled out, making easy small talk about the weather and the view as they headed to the venue. Owen’s gentlemanly streak revealed itself when he opened the door for her, linking his arm with hers once more as they approached the gathering crowd.

“Where is everyone?” Owen asked aloud, his brows knitting slightly as he scanned the group.

“Oh good, you found it!” Meredith jogged up, breathless but grinning. “Half the wedding party and the priest went to the wrong church. Please—have a drink, mingle.” She waved them off and darted away again, mid-crisis.

Elizabeth tilted her head toward the drinks table with a sly smile. “Well, I think we should listen to the lady.” She tugged Owen toward a waiter pouring champagne and handed him a glass before raising her own. “Cheers.”

“Cheers.” Owen clinked glasses, taking a slow sip while watching Elizabeth’s disappear in one smooth gulp. She set the empty glass down and claimed another without missing a beat.

Owen raised an eyebrow. “Uh… something on your mind?”

Elizabeth met his gaze as though nothing was out of the ordinary, taking a measured sip from her new glass. “It’s been a while since I’ve done something like this.”

“Drink in public?” Owen teased, gesturing toward the abandoned glass.

“No!” Elizabeth gasped, swatting his arm with her purse, her laughter bright and unguarded. “Go on a date. This is a date, right?”

Owen chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Yeah, it’s a date.” After a beat, his tone turned more curious. “So, you and Koracick haven’t actually…?”

“No,” Elizabeth said quickly, the answer sharp and certain—maybe a little too certain. “Tom and I are just friends.” But as the words hung in the air, they felt off, like she’d spoken them to convince herself. Shaking it off, she turned the conversation. “So, where’s Leo tonight?”

“Amelia was supposed to bring him with Betty, but she got pulled into something at the hospital.” Owen’s eyes softened. “So you have my full attention tonight.”

Elizabeth’s lips curved into a smile, her eyes bright. “How lucky for me.” Then, more sincerely, “I mean, I hope the patient’s okay, but… I’m excited to have you all to myself.”

“I want another scan tomorrow morning.” Amelia said, her voice steady but tense as she stood in front of the glowing image of Elizabeth’s brain. “It could be a blip. It could be nothing.”

“It’s a tumor, Amelia.” Tom’s voice was heavier than usual, cracking under its own weight. “You know the recurrence rates in the first ten years. It’s back… and even if we remove it, the odds are stacked against her.”

He exhaled sharply and sank onto a chair, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. The chair groaned beneath him, the sound cutting through the thick silence. “I thought we had more time.”

“Tom…”

He ignored her, his voice growing quieter. “This could end her career before it even starts. I sent her on a date with another man because I thought we had time.” His hand drifted to his coat pocket, and when it reemerged, he placed a small black velvet box on the desk with a muted thud. “I wanted her to have no regrets. No doubts. I wanted…”

Amelia approached hesitantly, picking up the box. “Tom.” The whisper carried a sad weight. She opened the lid, her breath catching at the sight: a thin gold band crowned with a massive salt-and-pepper princess-cut diamond, framed in a halo of smaller, glittering stones.

“I bought it after we were chosen for the contest,” Tom said quietly, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips. “It was sitting in some jewelry store window in Baltimore. I looked at it and I could just picture her wearing it… pinning it to her scrubs before surgery. Dropping it in the soap dish after forgetting it there for hours while she cooked dinner for our daughter.”

“Tom,” Amelia whispered again, wiping at the corner of her eye as a tear threatened to spill. She snapped the box shut and set it down gently. “We’ll save her.”

“Your apartment is nice,” Owen murmured against Elizabeth’s lips, his voice a husky tease as he paused for breath.

Elizabeth let her head fall back against the front door, a soft laugh escaping her. “You haven’t even seen the apartment.”

“Well, the door’s nice,” Owen shot back, grinning as he brushed his mouth against hers again. “Solid. Sturdy.”

“Maybe we should test it some more,” Elizabeth whispered, her smile mischievous.

Owen didn’t need more encouragement. He kissed her again, deeper this time, hands sliding down her sides before lifting her effortlessly. Elizabeth responded in kind, wrapping her legs around his waist as he pressed her harder against the door. The kiss turned urgent, each movement unspoken proof that neither of them had wanted this night to end.

Chapter Eleven

[hyunjins-orange-slice-too]

Regally Smitten

chapter 2: the secret

chapter word count: ~5.2k

synopsis: A future king and his servant are bound by their forbidden love. With the odds stacked against them, and a jealous brother out for blood, will their love prevail? Or will history repeat itself?

warnings: homophobia (specifically religious homophobia, this is a period piece so these beliefs are a reflection of the time period being portrayed, and the characters themselves, and do not reflect my personal beliefs. please read with caution and remember to take care of yourself. ily.) descriptions of violence, main character injury (no main character death), foul language, suggestive themes, brief mentions of anxiety, depression, and panic attacks. one mention of suicidal thoughts (but no action)

disclaimer: this is a work of fiction and in no way represents any member of stray kids in reality. this is a fanfiction and should be treated as such. this is not me “shipping” them, these are simply characters based on real life people. i don’t need the minsung antis coming for me.

authors note: i definitely cried multiple times while writing this chapter.

series masterlist • main masterlist

The road to Westwood was a long one. About a weeks trip to be exact. They had rode all day long in the sweltering heat, along a dirt path with little tree cover. Well, Han did. The two princes and the king and queen rode in a gold trimmed carriage. Two members of the royal guard rode in front, their black stallions draped in the colors of the kingdom, their long manes braided with flowers. The guardsmen carried swords and tall poles that flew the flag with the crest of the Lee Dynasty.

Han rode on a much less impressive horse, behind the carriage. As did two other squires, one for prince Rian and one for the king and queen. The carriage kicked up dust from its wheels. It stuck to Han’s sweaty skin and left him feeling gritty and dirty. This was his first time as squire, his first time traveling this far away from the castle, his first time being on the back of a horse for this long. His legs and back were absolutely killing him. And to add to it, the other squires would not shut up. They had all been at their post for years. Whereas, this was Han’s second day.

"How you holding up over there, newbie?" called James, the squire assigned to the king and queen. He had been their squire since heinrich first took the throne almost ten years ago, and he was a royal pain in the ass.

"I’m fine. Just a little sore is all." Han told him. The other squires laughed.

"This is only day one. We’ve still got six days worth of riding before we make it to the Westwood gates. You better get used to it."

Han nodded. Unable to focus on their conversation anymore. He was more focused on not falling off his horse.

And just when he thought he could ride no longer, he could see a small village in the distance. As they approached, they started to see more people. Little stone houses, and small fields of crops. A waist high stone wall surrounded the little town. The entrance was guarded by two men, their armor dented and worn. The carriage stopped. The royal guard didnt have to say anything, before the two small guards stepped aside and let their party through the gates. Both guards bowed as the carriage passed. Everyone in the town stopped what they were doing and gathered around the town center, where the carriage stopped. The small door swung open and minho was the first one to step out. He looked just as he did when they had left the castle that morning. He showed no signs of having been riding all day. Han was sure the same could not be said for him.

Minho was dressed in his royal garb, his white undershirt covered by his lilac velvet vest, and tucked into his black trousers. He approached the town leader as the rest of the royal family exited the carriage. Prince Rian was next, followed by Queen Charlotte and lastly, King Heinrich. Everyone in the town center knelt to one knee, bowing their heads.

"Your Grace," said the town leader. "Welcome to Nalefell. It is an honor to have you."

"Thank you, my lord." Minho told the man. "You all may stand." Minho said louder, so everyone could hear him. "Thank you for your warm welcome."

Though no one stood. Rian gave a snobby chuckle. "You’re not king yet, brother." he whispered into Minho’s ear.

"Thank you, people of Nalefell. We wish to seek shelter for the night on our way to Westwood." the king announced.

"Yes, your grace." the town leader said. "Clarice is the head of our inn. She will get your rooms together right away."

A woman to Han's right stood up, he assumed this woman was Clarice. She bowed and said a quiet 'your grace' before turning on her heel and heading into a large building behind her.

Minho, Rian, and the king and queen followed. Leaving the royal guard and the squires to attend to the horses and the carriage.

Once the carriage was parked, their horses tied and fed, Han and the rest of the squires headed to find their respective royal family member.

Han was so incredibly tired, it took everything in him to drag his feet through Minho’s door. The prince was sitting on the edge of the bed, untying his boots. "I am starving." he announced without looking up.

"Of course Your Grace." Han said, his voice worn with exhaustion. “Let me fetch your dinner." He turned to leave, to head to the small pub across the square from the inn where he was sure he could find something to satisfy the king.

"Hold on." the prince stopped him. Han turned back around, facing Minho, waiting for instruction. "Are you alright?" the prince asked.

"Yes, Your Grace. Just a little tired from the days journey." Han explained. "Though I’m sure you are even more tired than I am. Please allow me to get your dinner."

"Han, you look awful." Minho said.

The look on Han’s face made Minho backtrack a little. "I mean no disrespect." the prince said. "You just look like you need to rest." Minho put his boots back on and stood. "Here. Please lie down." Minho motioned to the bed.

Han froze. "Your Grace.. you are too kind. I could not lie in your bed." Han shook his head. "I will get your dinner and then I will find my own bed if you have no need for me after that."

Minho wanted to tell his squire that he will always have need for him. He needs him in more ways than anyone will ever know. He felt so bad. Han was filthy, covered in dirt and sweat. He looked like he was about to pass out on the spot.

"As prince, im ordering you." Minho said, his voice gentle and not at all sounding authoritative. "Wash up while I go across the way and get us some food. It will give me a chance to talk to some townspeople anyway." Minho crossed the room to where Han stood in the doorway.

"Oh and by the way, my bed is your bed tonight. They only had three rooms. One for my parents and their squire, one for Rian and his squire, and one for me and you."

Han's cheeks pinked at the thought of sharing a bed with minho. Surely the other squires weren’t sleeping in bed with the royals. There’s no way that the king and queen are sleeping in the same bed as James. No, Han would sleep on the floor, as he was sure thats what the other squires would do as well.

Minho smiled, pleased with the blush that covered Han’s weary face. He patted the squire on the top of his head and gently moved passed him, in search of some food.

----

The dinner that Minho had found, filled Han’s tummy and made him very happy. They ate in silence together, both unsure of what to say to the other. The only break in the silence was when Minho had quietly said, "You’re cute with your cheeks filled with food like that. Like a little chipmunk." and Han was so stunned, he could not reply. He just bowed his head slightly to the royal. Minho also didnt add anything after that, having accomplished his mission of flustering his squire once more. He had decided he would do so any chance he could, as he never tired of seeing Han blushing and speechless.

Plates empty and left on the table, the prince climbed into bed. Han grabbed a spare pillow from the corner and took his place on the uneven floorboards at the foot of the bed.

"What’re you doing?" Minho asked.

"We should get some sleep, Your Grace. We ride again at first light."

"I know that." Minho said, shortly. "I meant, what are you doing on the floor? There is plenty of room and I promise I dont bite." Well, not unless Han wanted him to.

"It would be inappropriate, Your Grace. I am comfortable on the floor." Han curled up on his side, unable to see the prince any longer. Even thought the floor was dirty and hard as a rock, it was nice to finally rest his body by lying down. The bed squeaked, and Minho’s head popped up over the footboard. He looked down at Han, curled up in a small ball on the floor, and took a moment to admire him. His eyes were closed, his hair tickling his forehead, his full lips in a small pout. Han opened his eyes. "Your Grace?"

"You’re going to make me sleep up here all by myself? While you’re miserable on the hard floor?" Minho raised one eyebrow at his squire.

"Your Grace," Han began.

"Call me Minho." the prince interrupted. "You were practically limping earlier. There’s no way you will be able to do another full days ride after sleeping down there."

"Your Grace, I am flattered at your concern for me. But I must sleep on the floor. I promise I am okay." Han’s stomach was in knots, the prince's face so close to his.

The prince rolled his eyes. "I’m not taking no for an answer. I’m your future king. Get up here." Minho said, before crawling back to the top of the bed and climbing under the covers.

Han took a moment to take a deep breath before he stood. He awkwardly stood at the end of the bed, wringing his pillow in his hands. Minho lifted the cover next to him and patted the mattress. "I promise to keep my hands to myself." he teased.

Han nodded before gently laying on the bed, as close to the edge as he could get, facing away from the prince. The mattress sank under him and conformed to his body. He had to admit, it was extremely comfortable. He felt sleep coming for him quickly. Minho let out a small chuckle and smiled to himself. "Goodnight, Han." he said, quietly.

"Goodnight Your Grace."

----

The rest of the trip to Westwood was much of the same. Long grueling hours on the back of a horse, behind a carriage thats kicking up dust. The only reprieve being the rest when night fell in a small inn somewhere in the countryside. Though every night that followed had not been like the first night. Each inn they stayed at had a room specifically for the squires to share. Han sometimes let his mind wander back to that first night. Why had the prince insisted on sharing a bed? And why did he seem so.. flirtatious? Surely Han must be mistaken. No, he was delusional. That’s what it was. He would write to Hyunjin and have his best friend set him straight. Though, does he risk writing that down and sending it with a messenger? Han’s newfound feelings for the prince could cause him to loose his job should the word get out. And not only that, it could ruin the prince's reputation. Same sex relationships were defintely looked down upon in this kindgom. Han wondered if maybe it went even further than that. Han had always kept his feelings to himself. Only Hyunjin knows which way Han leans. Who Han fancies. And Han had never heard of anyone else in the kingdom being like himself. Only the gods know what would come about if this information got out. And selfishly, he didnt want to loose his place at the prince's side. No, he would admire him in secret and make sure to keep his distance from now on. Though the prince made it hard sometimes.

On the last day of their trip, the last night in an inn before they made it to Westwood, Han had been asleep on the floor, James had stolen the only bed in their room all for himself, when he was awoken. Someone was shaking him awake.

"Han." shake shake. "Han, wake up." shake.

Han slowly opened his eyes and he was met with.. chocolate. Han jumped back, scooted as far away as he could until he hit the wall.

"Shhh. Don’t wake them." The prince pressed a ringed pointer finger to his lips, telling Han to shush. He motioned with his hand for Han to follow him. Han clutched his boots in his hand and tiptoed out of the room.

"Your Grace." Han whispered. "Is something wrong?"

Minho shook his head and began walking to the entrance of the inn, Han trailing behind him, trying to put on his boots and walk at the same time. They snuck outside, the town quiet, the horses softly munching on their hay. Han finally caught up with Minho, who walked casually behind the inn.

"Your Grace." Han said, quietly. "Might i ask what's going on?"

"I couldn’t sleep." the prince answered. "I thought some fresh air would do me good. And the stars look so nice."

At the edge of the little village, a small river bubbled along, Minho standing on its banks, head tilted toward the sky.

"I agree a night walk is rather lovely.." Han said, still unsure why the prince woke him up for this. Han tipped a small rock over with the toe of his boot, the silence between the two men growing.

"You’re wondering why I woke you up." the prince stated.

Han looked over at Minho, the moonlight making his sharp features even sharper, his nose prominent. Though Han wished he could see that small freckle he knew was there. No, the darkness still hid that from him. "You dont need to explain, Your Grace."

The prince took a step closer to Han. Close enough to poke him in his side. Han jerked away, out of ticklishness, and unsure how to handle this playful nature. "It’s Minho." he said. "I wish you would call me Minho."

Han just nodded, taking a step back, looking at the dirt and trying to gather his thoughts.

"Can i ask you a question, Han?"

"Of course, Your Grace." Minho rolled his eyes. He would get Han to drop the formalities one day.

"You don’t have to answer if you so wish." he said. Han nodded, intrigued with what the prince could possibly have to ask him. "Do you think I will make a good king? Or do you think Rian is better for the job?"

Han took a moment to process the question. He needed to tread carefully. He didn’t want to say the wrong thing. "I think you would make a fantastic king."

"I’ve been raised my whole life to be king one day." Minho said, taking a seat on the soft grass next to the running water. He gestured for Han to sit next to him. Carefully, Han sat cross legged, the soft grass slightly damp with the morning dew. Han noticed the sun would be up soon. "I’m only going to be king because I was born first. If Rian had been born first, he would be the heir, not me."

"If i may speak freely, Your Grace." Han said, pulling up little blades of grass and rolling them together in his fingers. Minho nodded, gesturing for Han to continue. "I think your brother can be a little.. crass at times." Minho chuckled at that. Han continued. "I mean no disrespect toward Prince Rian, but he can be a little harsh. But you, Your Grace.. you are kind. You are what the people need." Minho looked over at Han, who was focused on the grass in his fingers. "You are kind, and fair, and enjoy talking with the people, hearing their stories and where they come from. Sometimes I feel like your brother is just interested in the notoriety." Han looked up and met Minho’s gaze. The prince was staring at him, hard. "But- but I’m sure im mistaken. prince Rian is lovely."

"Do’nt lie to me, Han." Minho said.

"Never, Your Grace." Minho looked as if he was searching for something in Han’s features. Any trace of dishonesty. Not about Rian. No, Minho knew his brother was an ass. But did Han really believe everything he had said about Minho being kind? Should Minho be harsher? More like his brother? Is that what it takes to be king? Minho wasn’t sure.

Han turned his gaze to the water, dipping his fingertips into its cold depths, unable to look into Minho’s eyes any longer.

"What if I just left?" the prince said.

Han's head snapped up, shocked. "What do you mean, left?"

Minho shrugged. "I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve thought about." He studied Han’s face. The way his blinks were slow, processing the words and formulating an appropriate response. He was so cute. Minho felt the need to protect him at all costs. Nothing bad could happen to Han. Minho didn’t think he could live if it did. "I’ve been thinking about it a lot more, recently." He continued.

"Is that something you want?" Han asked.

"I don’t know. Maybe." Minho ran his hands through his hair before reclining back on his hands. "I don’t want to run from my responsibilities, but at the same time, I’m not sure if being king is what I want. But I may not have that choice."

Han nodded, listening. "Could I say something rather selfish, Your Grace?" Minho looked over at Han, the dim light casting shadows across his face. "I think you would make a wonderful king. The best king this realm has had in a very long time. But I would not be mad if you decided you wanted to run from it. I can not imagine the amount of stress and pressure that must be on your shoulders." your incredibly broad, muscled, perfect shoulders. "but if you were not king, or if you left while still a prince, then I would no longer be your squire. And that would make me sad, I think."

"So come with me." Minho said, quickly. He sounded so sure of himself. Like he had thought this out already and had the plan in place. "..if i decide to go." he added. Han was stunned, his mouth hanging open, dumbfounded. And somehow Minho thought it made him even more adorable. The prince slowly inched his hand across the grass until his fingertips brushed Han’s. He ran his index finger down the length of Han’s thumb before Han pulled away. His stomach was in knots, he felt he may throw up his mutton he had for dinner.

"The sun will be up soon, Your Grace." Han said quietly. "We should go back to the inn."

And all Minho could do was admire the flush on Han’s cheeks. He wanted so badly to tell him that he has made up his mind. That they should leave, start a life together somewhere else. Somewhere where kings and queens didn’t rule, somewhere where Minho could kiss Han. Where he could openly kiss him and hold his hand and tell him just how happy he makes him. But Minho knew it was a fantasy, knew that it could never be. Minho had duties, a whole kingdom of people depending on him. He could not just run and leave them to suffer the nightmare that would surely be the rein of his brother. No, Minho must stick it out. He knew he needed to be king. But it was fun to entertain the thought of happiness, sometimes.

And with the sun peeking over the hilltop, Minho also rose, and led the way back to the inn.

----

Han had decided Westwood was a beautiful city. It was slightly smaller than the capital city where their castle was, but it was twice as beautiful. The city was covered in flowers. As far as the eye could see, flowers. Fields of lilacs and peonies, tulips and roses. Bright green vines crawled up all of the stone walls. The shops that lined the square were selling bouquets and don’t get Han stated on the smell.

"First time in Westwood?" James asked, seeing the awe on Han's face. Han nodded in response, unable to take his eyes off of the beautiful colors, but being careful to keep his horse in line. "Westwood is the main flower supplier for all of the realm." James said. "Anytime there’s a wedding, or a coronation, or birthday feast, the flowers come from here." James scrunched up his nose. "I think it reeks."

Han turned his head toward his fellow squire. "What? You hate it? How? It's so beautiful."

James rolled his eyes. "You're kind of a priss, aren't you?"

Han turned away, decided not to even respond to that comment.

If the town was beautiful, and the square was beautiful, it paled in comparison to the house they approached now. The single story stone house was sprawling. Covered in vines and flowers just like the rest of the town, but the house was very open and airy. There were so many windows with no glass, just large holes decorated with gossamer curtains that blew in the rose scented breeze. They were greeted by Lord Alexander and Lady Ere, and a young lady who Han did not know of her name but assumed her to be their daughter. Based on the way she was dressed, and the way she curtsied when the king approached, Han knew she was no servant. She had been raised well.

"Welcome, my lord, to Westwood." Alexander said, bowing, and then spreading his arms wide. The king laughed a laugh that Han didnt think him capable of. One that actually sounded.. happy. One that sounded like it originated deep in his belly.

"Alex! So good to see you, old friend." The king embraced the Lord before turning his attention to Lady Ere. He kissed her hand gently.

"I trust your trip was comfortable?" Lady Ere asked.

The queen answered her. "Oh very much so. But we are glad to have finally arrived. A week is a very long time to travel."

"Of course, of course." Alex said. "Please, do come inside out of the heat. We have dinner prepared."

And with that, the king and queen and both princes followed them inside the beautiful flower covered home. And Han rode away to feed and water his horse.

--

The servants at the Westwood home, showed the squires to their guest rooms. Unlike the inns they stayed at along the way, this house was large enough for everyone, all the members of the royal family and their squires, to have their own individual rooms. The room Han was placed in was small, but that was okay with him. He had a bed all to himself for the first time in a week. He wasn’t about to complain. He relaxed onto the soft cushion mattress and before he knew it, sleep overtook him. He only awoke to the sound of a soft knocking at his door. Bleary, his eyes cracked open. The once bright room was now overtaken with darkness. He squinted, trying to get his eyes to adjust. The soft knocking happened again. Han begrudgingly hauled himself off of the bed and cracked the door open.

The prince immediately felt better after seeing Han’s face. He could tell his squire had been sleeping, his eyes barely open, his face puffy. It instantly made his heart feel lighter. It’s just what he needed. "I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you." Minho said.

Han stepped aside and allowed the prince to enter. "No, that’s okay, Your Grace. I was just getting up." Minho knew that was a lie, but he appreciated the way Han worried about his feelings. "Did you need something from me?" Han asked.

Minho paused for a moment, thinking. "No." he said. "No, not really. Just.." he paused again, turning to face Han, who was closing the door behind them. "Some company?" Minho finished his thought.

Han looked surprised. Minho noticed that Han often looked surprised. Like he felt that the prince would never want to voluntarily spend time with his squire. But that was not the case at all. Minho wanted to spend every single minute with Han. But it wasn’t appropriate to tell him that. Especially after the news he had just been given at dinner. Minho sat on the edge of Han’s bed, and looked up at the sleepy man. Han took a seat next to the prince, the small bed dipping under their weight causing their bodies to slide closer together. Their knees touching.

"I was thinking again about our conversation from this morning. About leaving and starting somewhere else." Minho said. Han nodded, but was unsure of what to say, so the prince continued. "It’s a wonderful fantasy. Don’t you think?"

Han did think that it would be nice to run away with Minho. To spend a life with Minho. But Han was sure that the future he was imaging was far different than the one the prince was picturing. "It does sound nice, Your Grace."

Minho sighed, he turned his head toward Han, who was looking down at his hands. "Will you ever listen to me when I say, please call me Minho?"

Han looked up and met Minho’s gaze. His eyes were intense. That was the only way that Han could describe it. They were so filled with emotion. More than one emotion for sure, but Han couldn’t place what they were. Sadness? Fear? Love?

"It would not be appropriate for me to call you anything other than your grace.. Your Grace." Han said quietly, feeling small under Minho’s stare. He couldnt tear his eyes away from the princes, though. He was captivated, enthralled. In this moment, nothing else existed for him. And Minho felt the same way. When he looked into Han’s eyes, he could see the future he so longed for. Deep in his brown iris, was a whole life that Minho could see. A whole world away from all of this princely bullshit. A simple life, with the man he loved.

The prince was leaning closer, trying to chase that life he could see. Han was busy trying to memorize all the lines of his prince's face. They had never been this close, their breath mingling together. That freckle that Han loved so much was only a few inches from his own nose. And what would he do if those noses touched? What would Han do if the prince's pouty lips met his own? Han didnt know.

Minho placed one hand on Han’s knee, the contact sending shivers through Han’s body. As the prince drew ever closer, Han knew this was a bad idea. He knew they should stop. But he couldn’t bring himself to pull away. He didnt want to. Minho brought his other hand up and brushed some hair away from Han’s eyes, before sliding that hand to cradle Han’s head. Han was having trouble breathing now, his breaths coming in short ragged pants, his heart rate spiking.

Minho loved it when Han let out that little gasp, loved it when his cheeks turned a soft pink. But he thinks he loves it the most when he finally gets close enough.. after these long, longing days, he finally gets close enough..

Han closed his eyes, his fists clenched in his lap, as the prince finally was close enough, that their lips touched.

And it was everything Han had dreamed of. The prince's lips were soft, and warm as they moved against his own, the pressure feather light. Minho used his hold on the back of Han’s head to pull him closer, deepening the kiss. Han felt his whole body relax as the prince's tongue ran along his bottom lip, the pince's hand rubbing soft circles on Han’s leg. Han thought this must be what heaven felt like. This is what the devoutly faithful meant when they said that heaven is beautiful. And Han thought he may take them up on their talk of gods if it meant he could stay in this heaven forever. In Minho’s arms for the rest of eternity.

Minho gently pushed Han, until his back hit the mattress. The prince broke the kiss, but only to move his lips to Han’s neck. he placed gentle kisses there. Minho was used to being a prince, used to having people worship him and faun over him. But in this moment, and in all future moments, all he wanted to do was worship Han. Wanted to give him everything he could ever want and more. And when the prince bit down softly on the flesh of Han’s neck, that’s when he heard it.

Han let out a soft gasp. "M-Minho.." he breathed out.

And then it clicked. Hearing his squire finally say the one thing he had been begging for this whole time, it finally brought the prince back to his senses. They can’t be doing this. This is dangerous. Minho threw himself off of the bed and across the room. His back against the cold hard stone of the wall, as Han lay on his back, flushed and panting, embarrassed.

"I- I’m sorry.." Han said quietly.

Minho's heart broke. What had he done? There was no going back from here. He promised not to make the same mistake as he did before, and now look at him.

Han sat up, his head in his hands. "I’m so sorry. I- I shouldn’t have.." Han couldn’t find the words. Minho had done this. His heart felt like a lead weight in his chest. He had made Han feel this way. Had made Han feel like he had done something wrong. Had practically begged for him to drop the honorifics and call him by his name and when he finally did.. it was so beautiful. But then Minho freaked out and now he fears he will never hear it again. And if that’s the case, then it’s what he deserves.

"They want me to marry her." Minho said bluntly. Han looked up, his eyes brimming with tears. Minho had to look away. He would not cry in front of Han. "The daughter here, Astrid. They want me to marry her. That’s what the dinner was about. What this whole trip has been about.”

Han's heart shattered some more. "oh-- oh." he stuttered. "I th-think you and the lady would make a fine match." Han said, though his voice shook.

"I told you never to lie to me, Han." Minho said quietly. He approached the squire. He knelt down on the floor in front of him. Looked up at him and used his thumbs to wipe his tears. "I don’t want to marry her." He whispered. Han sniffled. "I don’t want to, but I fear I may have no choice."

Han remained silent, holding back his tears. "I’m sorry, Han. I shouldn’t have put you through this.” He searched Han’s face, searched his eyes, no longer seeing their future there. "I’m sorry. I had a moment of weakness..” Han nodded, silent tears falling down his cheeks.

"But this has to remain a secret." Minho whispered. He leaned in and kissed Han on the cheek softly. “This has to remain a secret, and it can’t happen again.”

And with that, the prince stood and left the room, the door softly shutting behind him and Han’s heart was in pieces, littering the floor.

♡ pls reblog if you liked it! it truly helps a lot and makes me smile :) ♡

©hyunjins-orange-slice-too i do not give permission for this work or any of my work to be translated, copied, or reposted.

[feliksyapsalot]

Alone again, naturally - Satosugu fanfic

Student Gojo Satoru has a party to celebrate another victory on a class S curse. Everyone is invited but Geto Suguru decided to stay in his room.

They have been growing apart for a while now, and Suguru felt like everyone was leaving. Gojo coming in drunk to yell at him at 4AM did not arrange things.

——————————-

This is my first ever fanfiction and I did it in english without using translation! I’m sorry if there is any mistakes, be indulgent!

It was the middle of the night. Satoru was having a blast with a few of his classmates in his room. He alone defeated a Class S curse in less than 1 hour! “This is worth celebrating!!” he said loudly in every single classroom. He sneaked in alcohol and a cake from Shibuya, from the greatest bakery he found. Everyone knew his love for sweets, and before they could even take a second slice, he had eaten the whole cake. There were laughs, smiles, sparkly eyes, and drunk teenagers all tightly compressed in this small bedroom. Even the headmaster knew about it but decided not to do anything because: “Hell! A Class S in less than an hour!”

This was the best night for everyone except for Geto, who was trying to sleep next door. Trying was a big word, as he had been trying for months now. Big eye bags were marking his skin, and his usually tan skin was growing paler. When Gojo invited everyone, he invited him too, but he didn’t like how he did it. He treated him like a common school kid, not his best friend. He didn’t come up to him and say, between laughs and jokes, how great his party was going to be and how much he would like to see him there. No. It was just a brief glance in his direction and this smile, this stupid idiotic fake smile he used for the common people. He was part of the common people.

He did fewer missions than him; he was getting weak. Nobody knew the taste he had to endure each time he won a fight. When Gojo wins, he ends up with little to no bruises and the sweet taste of victory. When Geto wins? It’s the taste of vomit. It’s the taste of the mint toothpaste he frenetically brushes on his tongue to rid of. Usually, it was Gojo who brought sweets to the mission. Typical sweet tooth. Now that they did their missions separately, it was just the taste of trash. Of disgust.

After a few hours, the noise died down, finally. It was, what, 4 am? Gojo waved goodbye to the few friends leaving and told everyone it was okay; he didn’t want anyone to clean! After all, the strongest can take care of himself! He sat down on his bed with a dreamy smile as he looked at the cigarettes that were left on the cake box, and even the gift Nanami solemnly bought to encourage him to do better. There was no saying; he really was the best at everything, even making friends. Friends… friends… Someone was missing, though, right? Why didn’t Geto come? He frowned and started scratching his head. Geto was living literally next door; couldn’t he get up to say hi? What was up with this guy? He got up immediately and started pacing in his room, cleaning everything while thinking hard.

Was he upset that they weren’t on missions together? Sure, he could understand that, but he can’t do anything about it. He has to admit that it’s less fun without his best friend smiling at his stupid jokes and teasing Utahime with him each time he had to save her; and sure, he missed going to get crepes after the missions with him. Oh, and he missed sneaking outside in the center of town to go dance in some clubs… But he couldn’t do anything about it! He’s literally not at fault here! Geto was always waiting for Satoru to make the first move, to ask him to do something fun! But he is busy now, and Tokyo needs him. He needs to get even stronger than he is already, especially with what happened with… what was his name again… Toji Zenin. “I’m literally Batman…” He whispered with a chuckle.

Geto was sulking? Good for him! Maybe, in time, he will learn not to think everyone owes him. He got more and more angry as there was nothing to clean anymore. He was just sitting on his bed, still clothed, more than drunk, wide awake, and getting more and more angry with this whole situation. Oh, and hell. He’s going to speak about it to him. Right now.

Geto jumped when he heard his door being slammed open. He was ready to pull out a curse when he recognized the white hair and the sunglasses. He sighed, trying to calm down his fast-beating heart, and was about to ask what’s going on before he was cut off by a very drunk-sounding voice. “What the fuck is your problem, Suguru?” “I’m sorry?” “Don’t act so dumb. Why didn’t you come to congratulate me?”

As he was speaking, Gojo was walking closer to his bed. Well, walking was a great word; he was more like awkwardly putting a leg in front of the other. Geto was silent, muted by confusion. What was his deal?

“I was tired.”

It wasn’t really a lie.

“Yeah? Fuck this dude; you could have just waved hello.”

He sighed as he sat up on his bed. Gojo was standing in front of him, his arms standing straight against his slim body. There was the soft moonlight hitting his pale hair and skin, and making his eyes softly shine. He was pretty. It was annoying.

“Satoru, come on… you’re obviously drunk. Let’s talk about this tomorrow.”

“Nu-uh. Let’s talk now, or you’re going to run away next time.”

There was an awkward silence. Satoru sniffed and sat down on Geto’s desk chair. They were looking at each other like dogs about to jump at each other’s throat.

“Look, man-“ started Geto. “No, I talk first actually. I feel like ever since I became stronger than you, you’ve been acting all weird and jealous. You victimize yourself; you don’t even go on missions. What? What’s next? You’re gonna go on a hunger strike because Satoru Gojo is too busy actually being useful for the town? While your selfish attitude is making you stay in your room to smoke cigarettes?”

Geto frowned; he was genuinely hurt. His heart was about to explode from his chest out of anger and embarrassment.

“Are you implying the reason I don’t go to missions is because I’m jealous of you?”

He sat up, closing his fist really hard.

“You know nothing of me, Satoru, nothing. You don’t know what I’m living, what I’m thinking, and what I’m doing. Especially now that you’ve decided to become some egocentric prick that doesn’t even ask me how I’m doing when you see me.”

He rubbed his forehead with his thumb, obviously stressed and pissed off.

“You come into my room in the middle of the night, and you say I’m selfish all while you’re drunk. Do you not have an ounce of respect for me?”

Satoru opened his mouth, about to say something, but he got caught by a choke on air. He frowned his eyebrows and readjusted his sunglasses, getting up again and going on a drunk blabber.

“Fuck you, fuck you for thinking I owe you shit. I don’t owe shit to anyone. You think so highly of yourself; it’s so annoying. I don’t always have to hang out with you, shit! I don’t even have to talk to you. I can stop perceiving you if I want, and it’s my right! Stop thinking like you deserve a different treatment!”

His eyes widened at his words. First, his brain tried to smooth the situation, thinking he was drunk, there was no way he meant any of this. But his gut was burning, and it was only a matter of time until he suddenly got up and grabbed Gojo’s shirt by the neck. They stayed like this for a few seconds, which seemed to be hours. Geto’s eyes were burning by the tiredness but also by how painful the words were. Did he mean nothing to him anymore? Did he mean anything to anyone?

Gojo was looking at him with this shit-eating grin and sparkly eyes. His sunglasses fell on the floor, and for a moment, Geto could feel himself getting lost in his irises. They stayed the same, so blue, so bright, almost like they could glow in the dark. This is what hurt the most. Gojo became an entirely different person, but the eyes he loved oh, so much staring into were the same. A simple glimpse into those brought back so many unwanted memories in the space of a second, of them talking in bed late at night. Of them laughing together, spending time together alone, with no one else around them. Gojo’s blue eyes were the only thing that existed in these moments.

This sudden dive into memories pissed him off enormously.

So, without thinking, he threw a punch at his cheek. His eyes widened because it actually landed. Gojo still had his Infinity turned off even though he was arguing with him? Why?

When the white-haired boy fell on the floor, Suguru started stuttering some excuses, realizing he fucked up. But Satoru was starting to get up and gave him back the same punch this time straight in his ex-best friend’s nose. It drew out blood.

The next ten minutes were spent struggling on the floor while trying to fight. One was too drunk to effectively hit, and the other was too sad and tired to hit hard. It was just a pathetic twister party, filled with groans, gasps, and insults.

They played fight before, in the training field. “Just brutal force, no sorcerer abilities!” had stated Gojo. It was just something boys do, trying to prove who is the strongest, sometimes finishing with a nose bleed or a chapped lip. Their banter all while it happened was also some strong words, but in the end, it finished with whoever was on top to block the one on the bottom and making them admit they lost. It depended on the day of who was where. But now there wasn’t any technique of fighting, no laughs. It was just regret.

It ended eventually when Gojo felt something cold hitting his cheek. Geto, who was on top of him, had started crying, either out of regret or rage… or both. He wasn’t done, though, and still trying to pull at Gojo’s hair or hit him. Gojo, who still hadn’t activated his Infinity, stared at him with wide-open eyes. Eventually, Suguru stopped trying to fight, noticing Satoru wasn’t moving anymore, just staring at him. It all came crashing down on him, more tears escaping from his eyes. He truly was alone. Even his best friend hated him now; he considered him a weakling. He couldn’t even kill this… this monkey that shot Riko. He couldn’t do anything. He was such a loser.

Gojo managed to extract himself from underneath Geto’s legs. The other boy was too busy sobbing in his hands, anyway. There was a hint of guilt that washed over him. At least Geto was feeling bad for being so selfish? He thought. He must be tired… Come to think of it, he doesn’t eat much lately. Or come out of his room.

He stared at his friend with confused empathy and awkwardness, trying to reach him while wiping his bloody nose. He put a hand on the back of Geto’s head and brought him on his shoulder. The other boy resisted.

Suguru didn’t want any pity.

“I’m sorry,” Satoru awkwardly muttered before standing up the best he could. He picked his broken sunglasses from the floor and walked to the door.

Suguru looked at him leaving, trying to form the word “Stay..” but it didn’t. His pained expression turned into rage, as he held himself in a ball to calm himself down. Gojo was an asshole; he didn’t want to see any of him anymore. He hated him. He was the only one left, and he abandoned him over pride and success. He never wanted to see him again. He never wanted to see anyone again. Sorcerers were all full of shit.

He finished sobbing after ten minutes and climbed on his bed. He will stay there for a few days, sometimes going out to exorcise curses if asked to. All the time wishing this painful routine will end soon.

[mtdthoughts]

I have just finished writing Chapter 7 of the fanfiction.

This time, it's in Dali's perspective, and it contains the entirety of Episode 8 in his POV.

This chapter also hurt a bit to write. But I promise, it'll get better!!

I sat inside my tent, reflecting on what just happened. Just as I uncovered the truth of what had happened that Christmas night, Migi came and interrupted us. Through a series of blunders, he must have realized that Sali was me all along and bit me out of anger, and then he ran away from me just as I was about to start our revenge against Eiji. I attempted to run after him, but after encountering the old couple downstairs, there was no way I could continue chasing him, otherwise I’d risk exposing our secret to them. I had to give up and find Migi another day.

I continued staring at the bite mark my younger brother left on me. Sure, I understood why he was angry with me. I tricked him into falling in love with a disguised version of myself, and then I ruthlessly broke his heart after he caught me talking to Eiji. But I had to do it, it was all for Mother’s sake, and for ours as well. That’s what I told myself.

Yet even though I have lived with Migi my entire life, I wasn’t quite sure what to do now. Usually, when Migi was angry with me, he would just sit or lay down sulking, and he would get better after I comforted him a bit. I was prepared to take on Migi and all of his anger, but I wasn’t expecting him to run away from me. He’s never done this before! Even though I hurt Migi’s feelings, I hoped he’d be more understanding, that we could never live normally in Origon Village while we still had a duty to fulfill to Mother.

Who was I kidding? This was how Migi’s always been, relying on his emotions rather than reason. And it’s not like I haven’t noticed how Migi has  slowly slipped away into our new lifestyle in Origon Village. How he gradually became a true member of the Sonoyama family. How he… drifted away from me and Mother.

Regardless, this was something that needed to be done, and we needed to be together to do this. I’ll make it up to him later, but right now this matter comes first.

I lay in bed alone that night with nothing but a stuffed bear next to me. It felt unusually cold without my brother by my side. I struggled to get much sleep as I continually thought about what to do and what to say to Migi.

Suddenly, out of some strange compulsion, I decided to sneak out of the house and biked to Eiji’s house. I quietly crept over to the yard where Migi fell, and there I found the shattered necklace that Migi had tried to give me earlier. I picked up all the pieces and put them in my pocket before heading home to sleep.

Over the next couple of days, I decided to wait for Migi. I hoped that he would come back after cooling down a bit, but he never did. I also tried to repair the necklace, but I just couldn’t do it. It was shattered into so many pieces that it was beyond repair.

Eventually, I couldn’t wait anymore and decided to look for Migi myself. After searching around the various hiding spots we set up in Origon Village, I concluded that he had to be hiding in someone’s house.

I turned out to be correct, as when I showed up at Akiyama’s house, Akiyama’s words and expression revealed to me that Migi was indeed here.

After sending Akiyama away to fetch me a drink, I was able to locate Migi in Akiyama’s closet. He was still angry with me, but that didn’t matter right now. I just needed him to come back.

I attempted to force the door open, demanding Migi to come out, but he stubbornly refused to budge. Then, Akiyama’s intervention only left me more frustrated as I felt my chances of recovering Migi slipping away from me. I tried to convey my message to Migi through Akiyama, telling him that I didn’t mean to hurt him, and that I did all this to fulfill our promise to Mother. This was the truth, and at this point I was close to losing control of my own emotions.

Suddenly, Akiyama grabbed hold of me, telling me that I shouldn’t have to live according to my mother’s expectations, that I should let myself be free. Huh? What are you talking about? Don’t act as if you know anything about me… about us! This was something that needed to be done to end the curse that we carried all our lives!

Then, as Akiyama was distracted by his angry sister, Migi suddenly grabbed me and threw me into the closet. Before I could say anything, Migi told me he didn’t care about revenge anymore, and then proceeded to look me in the eyes, telling me that he won’t take orders from me anymore. I was lost for words. This was a complete disaster, as what I feared most came true, yet somehow, I couldn’t stop this from happening. I could do nothing but sit inside Akiyama’s closet, now stewing in the hopelessness from my futile attempts to take back Migi.

Suddenly, Akiyama wanted to go on a bicycle ride and took Migi with him. No. I couldn’t allow this to happen. If I continued to sit and do nothing, Migi would be gone forever. At this point, our secret didn’t matter anymore. I shoved the closet doors open and ran after Migi, but it was too late. I stood outside in horror as they sped away, with Migi shouting out loud that he was free.

Why? How could Migi do this to me? I thought that we understood each other, that we were supposed to be one, that we understood each other and the loneliness we shared.

I’ve always watched over him, protected him, and I remained the “strong older brother” just for him, even holding back my own pain and my own tears. I thought that Migi would be able to understand the sacrifices I had to make for our mission, that he wouldn’t leave me because of the promise we made. But how could he abandon Mother, how could he abandon me when we were so close to breaking the curse over us?

I suppose that in the end, Migi was just a brat who just cared about himself and his own pleasure. He only clung to me for comfort, and now that I’ve hurt him once, he’s ready to discard me like some broken tool. Even though we’re brothers.

I dragged my feet over to Mother’s grave and cursed the heavens for once again for bringing me yet again more misfortune. Before, I had Mother. Before, I had Migi. Now, I had no one.

This was all Eiji’s fault.

If he hadn’t killed Mother, she would still be with us.

If he hadn’t killed Mother, Migi would still be with me.

If he hadn’t killed Mother, my life would not have been filled with suffering.

At Mother’s grave I vowed to her that I would kill Eiji to set things right. To make sure that our suffering wasn’t for nothing.

If Migi wasn’t going to help me, then so be it. I’ll avenge Mother myself. I don’t need Migi anymore. I can’t let Migi drag me down anymore.

This was my duty.

Still, avenging Mother alone as Hitori Sonoyama was easier said than done. Now, I had to do everything Migi and I did in the house by myself, such as eating both our servings of food. It was difficult, but there’s no way I could slip up now. The old couple didn’t need to know about me, and I didn’t need them.

All I had to do was remain the perfect child. That was all I needed to do.

Doing all this felt like hell, and I reflected upon my situation as I vomited again into the toilet. Stupid Migi, why aren’t you here?

No, no. Don’t blame this on Migi. He’s always been this thoughtless and dull. And stop thinking about him, I thought to myself.

Later, I sat in the bath with the old man while stewing in my thoughts. Suddenly, after learning a trick about water pressure, I realized something: perhaps it was better that Migi wasn’t here anymore. Migi was always the incompetent one, always getting into messes that let me worry about him. Without Migi, I no longer had a stupid younger brother to drag me down while carrying out our revenge. All I needed to do was erase Migi’s existence from within me, allowing me to finally fulfill my duty to Mother.

Or so I thought.

When Halloween came, I hatched up the perfect scheme to kill Eiji. He always won the costume contest every year, so I rigged the winner’s throne so that a pumpkin would fall and hit his head once he sat on it. I thought it was quite poetic: just as Mother died after hitting her head because of Eiji, Eiji would die in a similar fashion.

Everything was going well according to plan, and I thought I could finally be rid of Eiji once and for all so that I could end my unhappiness once and for all, that I could finally prove that my life had meaning.

But then, everything went wrong when Eiji refused to sit on the throne. Suddenly, the one to sit on the throne was none other than Migi! I instinctively jumped down from the tree from where I was watching and ran as fast as I could to save him. I was in an utter state of panic.

At this point, our secret didn’t matter anymore, because Migi’s life was in danger! Even though I claimed I could erase Migi from within me, I just couldn’t. There was just no way I could, because Migi was my precious twin brother. These thoughts swirled my mind as Migi’s life flashed before my eyes.

When I heard the sound of the pumpkin being smashed my heart sank, as I thought that I had just killed my brother. Memories of Migi began to flood my mind. Memories of our time living in the Sonoyama house. Memories of us at school together. Memories of Migi… smiling from ear to ear during our date at the aquarium.

I thought that our days in Origon Village were meaningless, that they were simply a means to an end in avenging Mother, but I was dead wrong. In that moment I remembered what my original duty was, what my purpose was. Everything I did was for Migi, and it wasn’t out of some arbitrary obligation, but it was because I loved him. I loved him dearly, and it was his smile that I lived for, and it was the same smile that I trampled over and ruined. I thought that I was doing all this for him, but I couldn’t have been more wrong. A river of tears streamed from my eyes as I finally realized this truth.

I looked up to face what had happened, and to my shock, it was Eiji who was hit by the pumpkin, as if he had just saved Migi.

I stared at Migi, but before I could say, do, or even think anything, Migi turned around and bolted away as Akiyama ran after him. By the time I had recovered from my shock and thought of going after Migi, it was already too late. The crowd was in complete chaos, and I had already lost him.

The Sonoyamas found me in tears, and with worried looks on their faces, they frantically asked me if I was okay.

I couldn’t say a word.

They then took me into their arms as we walked home together, though I couldn’t stop thinking about what had just happened.

Once we arrived home, the old couple put me in bed to let me rest, but there was no way I could get better. Even though it was good that Migi was still alive, I couldn’t bear that I had almost killed him.

Deep down, I knew that Migi just wanted to live a normal life in Origon Village, yet in anger, desperation, and fear, I couldn’t let him have it. Instead, I dragged him around, brought him into danger, and crushed his heart, thinking that he would just get over it. I feared that Migi would drift away from me if he became a part of this town, and yet I made this happen myself with my own foolishness.

What was I thinking?

I thought I was protecting Migi, but all I did was make him cry.

How could I do these things to him?

He was all I had, and yet I pushed him away so cruelly.

It’s all my fault that Migi’s gone now, yet I couldn’t help but want him back as I muttered his name while crying, clutching the remains of the dolphin pendant that he once cherished. It was insufferable, as if I was drowning in an ocean of my own tears and loneliness.

Even if Migi hated me, I still loved him. I don’t care if he was still angry with me, I just wanted him back, to make things right with him, to see his smile again, and I would give anything for that. Without Migi, how could I possibly go on?

[johnlockedinkonoha]

SASUNARUSASU FANFICTION BINGO 2023

 FINALLY

 Thirty years after the end of the war, everything was finally... okay.

Naruto struggled a little a few years after the war. He got married to Hinata, he had kids, he got a job as the Hokage. It was everything he needed. Or so he was told. He wasn’t sure.

I guess he wanted to get married and have kids. He really wanted to become Hokage – it was always his dream.

But… it wasn’t like he had imagined how things would be. He guessed.

Something was missing.

He didn’t let his mind go there. But sometimes he couldn’t help it. Sasuke. He missed him. And it was the strangest thing. They sure became friends at some point. Every time Sasuke was in danger he could feel it in his bones, and the desperate need to save him.

But he was gone. And Naruto had to move on. Right?

 At some point life went on. Ten years later he decided to ask for a divorce. He couldn’t do it anymore. He loved them. Hinata and the kids. But it wasn’t working. So he moved out. At first, only Himawari would visit his loft. But a few months into this new life, Boruto came around.

 Naruto sensed Hinata knew, maybe before himself, what was going on in his heart. So they stayed friends.

Life was okay. He went to work, stayed up until late. Went back to his lonely and almost empty loft, but he was okay. He find it peaceful and a throwback to his past. On the weekends he got to spend a time out with his children. Go to the park. Practice a few techniques. Eat ramen and so on.

 He felt himself burning out. So five years later, he quit his job. It was a long time coming for him, but he sensed he let people down. They sure were curious as to why he did it. He was so young still. And they all knew about his dream.

 He left town.

 He still hang out with the kids on weekends. But he needed some break from Konoha and all the ninja lifestyle and past he carried.

 So now, thirty years later, feeling better without all that burden, he felt sad and lonely – and thought maybe this was it.

 But then he saw him.

It was a sunny day, in the afternoon, just walking home after a walk into the park and a pause for tea.

Sasuke was just there. Still. In the middle of the street, in front of him, looking shocked.

 “Naruto?” – his voice was weak,  as if he could believe his eyes.

“Sasuke” – the blond confirmed. I am here, I missed you, thank Kami you’re still alive, how long has it been. Do you miss me?

“You wanna… go grab tea?” – Naruto asked. The raven boy… no, man. The raven man, now not raven at all, but silver – seemed to be in shock still.

“Yes.” – he murmured, sighed almost. As if in relief, as if he couldn’t believe still.

So they went back to Naruto’s loft. Never spilling a word.

Naruto opened his door wide, set the keys into the bowl next door.

Sasuke looked around, observing, looking for something.

Naruto observed him. He’d aged, but was still Sasuke. The same onyx eyes, black and a blackhole. The same hair length, a bit longer, silver now. Dark clothes.

“I live alone” – he didn’t mean to put so much into his words, as to emply multiple things at the same time.

“Where’s the…” – he didn’t finish.

“I’ve been divorced for years now. And I’ve changed jobs. Retired now.” – he put a shy hand on his neck, rubbing it. Embarrassed with the realization that he wanted to tell Sasuke everything. And also that he had to start there. I’m single.

“Me too” – Sasuke said, but felt he had to explain it better. “I’ve been single for a while now. Retired too. I live nearby here”.

“Cool.” – he fidgeted. “Lemme go get that drink, please, seat” – he pointed to the large couch and went into his kitchen.

He grabbed them both beer and handed Sasuke his.

“So… I haven’t heard from you… for twenty years, more or less.”

“Yeah, I… had to sort some things out.”

“I missed you” – there. He said it. He was too old for  this conversation.

“You did?”

“Didn’t you?”

“I guess.”

Naruto laughed, weakly.

“What things did you have to sort out?” – The blond asked curiously.

“It’s all good now. It wasn’t anything dangerous. I’m good.” – Sasuke. The mysterious man.

“I see. Well, I’m too old for this… being shy or whatever. So I’m gonna go ahead and say it. Since you might bail on me again and we’ll see each other in how many years from now? Will we be dead by them?” – he mocked.

“Naruto…”

“I love you.” – he took a deep breath. “I think I always have. The war was over and so was I. You ran away. You left. It broke me. It felt like it was all for nothing. “We” won. But you were gone. I won nothing.”

As Naruto tried not to cry, not over this again, Sasuke seemed taken aback. Eyeing the man in front of him with fondness.

“I tried living my life. But something was always missing. It was you. I always knew it. There was no point in waiting. But nevertheless I got divorced. I asked around about you, no one knew where you were. Some took you for dead.”

“I’m sorry”.

“It’s in the past now. I’m glad you’re here. Just wondering why. It feels like a dream, honestly”.

“I love you too”.

“What?”

“Yeah… that’s why I had to leave. So I thought. But then I couldn’t do it anymore. I had to try. When I came back to find you, you were married. So I left again.”

“Sasuke…”

“I also tried to live my life without you. It’s too empty and it hurts so much”.

They both got up and took each other’s hands.

“I’m glad I found you. Even if it’s too late”.

“It’s not… kiss me?”

Then without waiting anymore, Naruto put his hand in Sasuke’s chin, pulling him down a little and kissing his mouth. Soft at first, just feeling himself be pulled closer. Feeling Sasuke’s warm body, firm against him. Safe. And finally.

They deepened the kiss, licked each other’s lips, then tongues. Tasting each other. Finally, finally.

Naru could feel Sasuke’s soft hair. Finally. The man grunt. More. It said.

Sasu touched Naruto’s body everywhere. His face, his hair, his shoulders, his hips. His ass. He grabbed it, squeezed it. Yes. Yes.

“Sasuke”.

“Naruto”.

[justdancekid]

Flowers are for Lovers - A JD Fanfiction

Series: Just Dance 2024 Edition

Characters: Tiana (Don't Start Now/Flowers), Maria (Volar), Pheonix (all the good girls go to hell/Therefore I Am), Cody (Heat Seeker)

Relationship: Tiana/Maria

Rating: T

Type: Fluff, Humor, Romance

Description: Tiana has become famous in Dancity, with Maria & her kids coming to see her shows every night. One day, Maria decided to give her an interesting gift

"OH MY GOD! WE LOVE YOU MADAME FLOURA!!!" The crowd yelled as we see Tania doing her performance. She has done her signature pose as the song finishes.

"Thank you! You have been an wonderful crowd! I will see you next Thursday!" Tiana yelled as she walked out the stage and out the performance house.

She sees Maria flying out the door, and land on the ground, with Pheonix and Cody running behind her.

"That was amazing, mom!" Cody said

"Yeah, I don't know why, but I always thought these places suck. But, you've made this place worth while!" Pheonix said

"Another excellent performance from Madame Floura" Maria said as she walked up and they both shared a passionate kiss.

"Heh, you've always known what to say." Tiana said as they've shared another kiss.

"Jeez, does our moms even know that we're still here?" Pheonix said as she and Cody looked on at the sight.

After a couple minutes, Tiana and Maria moved back. "So, you wanna go to that park around here?" Maria asked her

"I would love nothing better." Tiana said as they started to walk off.

"Come on, kids!" Maria called to Pheonix and Cody as they ran towards them

As they got to the park, Pheonix and Cody played at the playground, while Tiana and Maria sat on the benches. Maria layed her head on Tiana's shoulders.

"It's nice that you guys are willing to show up at my performances." Tiana said

"Of course, what kind of wife would I be if I didn't come to her wife's performances?" Maria replied, as Tiana just smiled softly at that statement.

2 hours later

"Mom! I'm bored! Can we go home?" Pheonix asked

"Yeah, I'm feeling a little tired." Cody said

Maria got up and started stretching. "Welp, it looks like the kids wanna go home." She said.

"Oh yeah, one more thing." Maria said as she gave her a bouquet of roses. "Just to show my love for Madame Floura, and my wife." She said.

Tiana grabbed the roses and looked at it, and softly smiled. "Thanks, I love it." She said as they share a kiss. She starts to carry Pheonix, as Cody hopped on her back, as she starts to fly

"I'll see you next Thursday!" Tiana yelled out

"You know I will!" Maria yelled back as she flew off.

Tiana just sat at the bench and looked at the roses that Maria gave her.

"Man. I got a wonderful wife who would follow me to hell, and two amazing kids who look up to me. Yet, they all helped me into being the person that I am today." Tiana said as she held tightly to the roses.

Next Thursday

"Thank you! You guys have been a wonderful crowd! I'll see you next Thursday!" Tiana yelled out to the crowd as she leaves the stage and the performance house. But, she's surprised when Maria is already out there, waiting for her.

"Huh, I guess Cody & Pheonix didn't wanna come today?" Tiana asked

"Oh, no. They're already at the park, I've told them that their mommy's are gonna kiss. Pheonix didn't want to see that, so she went ahead to the park, and Cody followed suit." Maria answered

"I'll never understand that girl." Tiana said

"Yeah, but at least you know that she still loves you." Maria said

"Yeah. That's true. And, guess what?" Tiana moved closer to Maria

"I still love you." Tiana said as she initiated the kiss, Maria then put her hands in her hair. Then after 3 seconds, they stopped

"Woah, Crikey!" Was all Maria could say

"Hmm. Come on, let's go to the park. I'm sure they'll need someone to get them home." Tiana said as she and Maria walked to the park, hand in hand. Loving every second of it

[everythingnerdyxoxo]

I'll Be Your Slave - Lizard x OC - The Hills Have Eyes Fanfiction

Summary: After years of being sold from slaver to slaver, Charly had finally lost the will to live. When she finds herself stumbling into the mutant village and being surrounded by the closest thing she'd known as a family, would they accept her or sell her back to her master?

Pairing: Lizard x OC

Rated: M

Chapter Six

It wasn’t long before Pluto had arrived back, with a collection of empty bowls. Big Mama had told Pluto what she had expected of him that day, to watch her and make sure no harm came to her. Pluto appeared excited at the notion. For someone who looked so large and dangerous, he came across quite sweet. Almost childlike.

Big Mama had taken great pride in showing Lily her cleaning cupboard, and Lily was actually impressed. Lizard wasn’t joking when he said she collected bleach. There were at least 5 shelfs full of it, several mops, and several other cleaning products inside, including a trolley Big Mama was happy for her to use – asking Pluto to carry it across the sand for her before entering Lizard and Goggle’s house.

The house was directly opposite Big Mama’s but looked more worn. Some of the windows at the top of the stairs had been broken and even the front door seemed to be hanging on by only one hinge. Pluto had entered the home first, holding the broken door open for Lily as he did so. Big Mama wasn’t kidding, the place really was a mess.

There was dust, sand, rubbish, clothes, and this was just the living room. She could see where they had been sitting, the only places not covered in empty beer cans food wrappers. She could see why Big Mama had been avoiding this. It was the same layout as Big Mama’s house, the open door ahead of her she presumed went into the kitchen, and there was a staircase to a landing to her left with two bedrooms upstairs and she presumed a bathroom. She imagined the rest of the house wouldn’t be much different, she could see why Goggle was embarrassed to have her here.

She could think of worse jobs to do though, she enjoyed cleaning, she found it quite therapeutic. She turned to Pluto who was standing beside her with her new cleaning trolley. He had a sheepish grin on his face as he watched her. She smiled at him.

‘Thank you, Pluto, I’m going to start in here and work my way through I think.’ She looked around once again, where to start?

For the next hour she went to work on the living room, Pluto sitting on the floor and seemingly occupying himself with the roll of binbags he held. He was enjoying himself, handing her things she needed. She has successfully picked up all the rubbish she could have seen in the room. she’d found a coffee table and a collection of weapons hidden until the rubble of cans and rubbish. She made quick work of wiping down the surfaces and all she needed to do now was take the rubbish out and mop and dust.

She wiped the sweat from her forehead, the desert heat was filtering through the house, with no curtains she could see, there was nothing to block the sun from entering the house she stood in.

She took hold of one of the mops, making a start on the floor when she heard the hinges of the door creak behind her. Pluto was up with a start as Lizard entered the room. Lily watched him with curiosity as he inspected her work, he looked impressed, an eyebrow cocked with curiosity in her direction.

He walked towards her, his boots echoing off the newly cleaned floor as he did so, until he was so close she could feel his breath on her. Pluto made to come between them, slipping on the wet floor as he did so. He fell with a crash, earning an obnoxious laugh from Lizard in front of her. Lily went to help the poor mutant, but Lizard grabbed the top of her arm, holding her steadfast. His strength surprised her to the point she dropped the mop she was holding as he turned her towards him. He was so close to her their noses almost touched.

‘Liz…Lizard! Ma said you aint not allowed to touch Lily!’ Pluto clumsily tried to stand back up his, weight and height working against him as he did so.

Lizard shot him a disdainful look, his eyes were cold as he looked at Pluto, like ice, she could feel his hostility towards the man.

‘She aint your Ma! And I aint be doing anything naughty to our little Lily here.’ His gaze was on her once more. His cold blue eyes bearing into her own. Lily could feel her heart beating a mile a minute as he came even closer, bringing his face to the side of her own and breathing hotly into her ear.  ‘At least not yet anyway, blondie.’ He whispered in her ear, quietly enough for Pluto not to hear.

He buried his nose in her hair, inhaling her scent as he did so. She felt his free arm slip around her small waist, pulling him against his hard chest. she could feel his weapon press into her shoulder as he did so, the spiked row of ammo he carried with him wherever he went.

She felt the blush come to her cheeks, her heart beating so strongly she could hear it in her ears. And then it was over. He released her in one movement, barely giving Lily time to register what had happened as he continued through into his kitchen. Pluto stood dumbfounded behind her; he was jittering on the spot ready to pounce if needed. Though it was obvious how afraid Pluto was of Lizard, his strength was undeniable. It surprised her, being pressed against him like that, he was so masculine he could have been made of stone.

‘Lily…?’ Pluto voice brought her out of her thoughts. His worried glance brought her back to the task at hand.

‘I’m fine Pluto…’ She could hear her voice tremble as she spoke, as she picked up the mop from the floor and continued what she had been doing, a little more vigorously than she had been. She shot the kitchen an occasional glance, as if waiting for him to return, but she had heard the back door open and close as he had gone in there.

‘At least not yet…’ Lily couldn’t decide whether to be afraid or excited by his promise to her.

[hellcatinnc]

Paradigm Paradox Fan Fiction/Masaki Kuramori Fanfiction - A Misunderstood Gentleman - Chapter 3 - Final Chapter

Mature Audiences Please

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

The next few weeks flew through pretty fast and every day she went to work with Masaki when the other girls weren't around, even on weekends. She felt she had gotten so much better with her powers thanks to him helping her understand them and what was the best way to use them to help the other blooms. After weeks of training on the roof she got up getting ready knowing this was their final session, he had already announced that. It was a Saturday and most would be sleeping in but she was bustling around and it was nearly 7am and she was to meet with him at 8am. She couldn't wait to see him but a ping in her chest tightens at the thought of not seeing him as often after the day was over. She had not spoke her feelings for him to him or anyone since the day she told Lize she was too afraid of it getting back to him. She was sure he only saw her as a dumb kid that he was burdened to have to teach. She shook herself from her thoughts grabbed her bag and slowly slid out her dorm room and scurried down the hall trying to make as little as sound as possible.

She got to the top of the roof and took a breath before opening the door. Her eyes adjusted to the light shining this morning over the roof top and when her eyes focused she saw Masaki sitting on the edge of the building with breakfast waiting for her. She was in awe because it almost seems like a breakfast date, of course she knew it was hopeful thinking. She knows he probably just wanted to make sure she was full of energy because they never usually meet this early on a weekend. She walked over to him and has he looked up to her their eyes met and time seemed to stand still just for a moment before she looked away and sat down opposite of him. She stammered from her lips "You brought breakfast? Thank you." He heard her mouse like voice he could tell she was nervous but wasn't sure why. He had been practicing with her every day for weeks and sure he brought food but its not the first time, its just the first time they have ate together so early in the morning. "Yes, I knew we were starting early and I know I rushed out without eating so figured it would be good for both of us" he said confidently. They sat and ate quietly him not sure what to say and her to shy to say anything.

As they finished food he stood up cleaned everything up to the side he would throw it away later after practice. She went to stand up and stumbled and she felt herself falling from losing balance. He caught the sight of her threw the stuff to out of his hand and reached for her with his long arms catching her in his embrace before she touched the ground. She had already prepared and had closed her eyes when after a few seconds she realized she was no longer falling. She looked up and saw his face so close to hers as her cheeks flushed hot and red instantly. She could feel his breath on her face and all she could focus on was his soft lips that she would love to feel upon hers. He was standing here holding her and it had no dawned on him to let her go because it had been a long time since he had the warmth of a woman in his arms. He was captivated in her eyes and even noticed her cute flushed cheeks. He thought this could not actually be a reaction to him holding her could it, why would she want someone his age when there are such nice looking boys her own age. He fought the urge to want to kiss her since they were so close. He helped her to her feet and apologized for the lingering. He knew this was the last day they would train so closely together and after that connection right there he felt it might be a good thing because he just about crossed a line that he couldn't come back from.

They went on with training like nothing had happened or changed however both him and her were now thinking of the other in ways that should be inappropriate since they were just teacher and student. After they were done Yuuki bravely asked a question without hesitating. "Why are you not married?" He was so shocked by her request "I guess it was more about me being married to my science. I have had a few girlfriends but non one understood how much my work meant to me." He said this knowing that he just never felt that chemistry that science even knows more about than he does because he had never felt it with someone he would want to date let along marry. She thought to herself she shouldn't have asked but at the same time with his caring nature she knew people misunderstood him because of the seriousness they saw in him as a scientist. In the last month she had smiled, and laughed with him she had seen the softer side of him no one else had. Its why she knew in this bit of time she was in love with him and yet she still felt he saw her as a kid and she wasn't sure how to change that. As her thoughts ran crazy his mind was wondering off too he wanted her so bad and he knew it. He wanted to kiss her and take her in his arms and never let go. Him being professional though he just couldn't break that he was too afraid he wouldn't be able to stop if her did.

As she went to turn to leave something inside of her stopped her she knew this was now or never. She had never been the assertive type but she knew after today any time she would see him the other blooms would be around. There would never be another chance to see how he might feel for her and she knew she couldn't just tell him. He was still caught up in thought when he softly closed his eyes and opened them again then he felt her soft lips on his and something flipped inside of him. He embraced her and let his passions go kissing her like he had wanted to for so long now. She was caught off guard but got lost in his lips and went along with the feeling. They were standing on the roof embracing with their lips locked together sharing the most passionate kisses. He slowly backed her against the wall and letting go of her lips he found his way down to her neck kissing softly as he breathed her in. He wanted her and he knew it and as long as she didn't push him away he was going to have her too. He ran his fingers under her top and as he did he heard a moan escape her lips. The sound intoxicated him so he moved further down kissing every inch of her as he moved down.

He slowly pulled her down to the ground where he laid her down gently before going any further he cleared his throat and spoke. "Are you sure?" In all the feelings going through her body she found a way to acknowledge his words and answer "Yes I want you! I want you to be my first!" As he heard these words he made love to her right there. It being her first time and he now knew it he was so gentle with her. After they were done she crawled up into his arms and he held her as they dozed off. The only good thing about it being a weekend is they had more privacy than they would have had any other time. After a small nap he woke up looking down at her in his arms knowing what happened is so wrong to most but he knew he loved her. She had found a way to get into the heart of someone who had always been misunderstood by most. She wanted to get to know the real him and she had and he couldn't walk away from her now. He knew he was invested, he knew that their relationship would have to be secret but he knew he couldn't let her walk off that roof that day without knowing how he felt.

He leaned down softly kissing her lips as to wake her from her slumber. He softly purred in her ear "I love you, will you be mine?" She thought she had died and went to heaven this man who she was afraid only looked at her as a child, a man she had longed for over a month, this man who just made love to her for the first time just said he loved her. She opened her eyes and looked up at him she smiled softly before speaking. "I have been in love with you for awhile now." As she tried to finish her words tears started to form from her eyes and trailing down her face with the way she was laying. Before she could finish he reached down wiping the tears from her face and smiling down at her. "I have always been yours even before you knew it, I love you too!" He kissed her forehead then her nose, wiped away her tears kissing her face then found her lips and his crashed into hers engulfing in the ecstasy of her words and her love for him. For the first time he didn't feel so misunderstood anymore and knew that as long as he had her by his side even if it was in secret he could get through anything. She had his heart and he had hers thats all that mattered.

Hope you enjoyed I plan to write more on others in the future but wanted to finish this.

[p0tat0-g0ddess]

thank you for the tag @vellatra! Clearing the reblogs because this is getting to be a very long post.

(Cracks knuckles, sorts google docs by “most recently modified by me”)

From most to least recent,

(1) (Minecraft) Labor of the Lonely Heir:

Harvin tugged the brim of his hat down over his eyes, grimacing as he attempted to peer through the pouring rain. Night was falling fast, and with it had come a truly loathsome storm.

(2) (Minecraft) Lesson One:

You squinted down at the map in your hands, confirming that your representative dot was, in fact, on top of the X, before lifting your gaze back up to the building in front of you.

(3) (Minecraft) The Sins of the Father:

Herobrine's home was burning.

Ashes floated down all around him, dying embers stinging where they touched his bare skin, but he paid them no heed. He could feel nothing.

(4) (LEGO Ninjago) Save What Has Been Lost:

Lloyd chewed his lip as he gazed up at the monastery, watching as Kai and Nya’s fusion dragon circled the Iron Doom. 

“You’re sure I shouldn’t help?” He voiced at last.

“No, Lloyd.” Master Wu, hunched over where he sat at the base of a tree, shook his head. “We must not affect the future any more than we can help.”

(5) (Minecraft) Blood Bound (oneshot collection):

Caden cast a glance at Steven, chewing his lip. "Do you have, like… a ladder, or a stepstool, or something?"

"I'm afraid not." Steven shook his head. "I could grab my chair from my desk-?"

"No way!" Brine interjected from the next room over. "Don't you remember what Officer Buckle says? Never stand on a swivel chair!" He poked his head into the room to find them both staring at him in bewilderment. "Neither of you- okay, it's an old children's book, stop looking at me like that."

(6) (Minecraft) Remember Everything (oneshot collection):

Herobrine scowled at the passerby that gawked at him, yanking the hood of his traveling cloak further over his head.

“I think I preferred it when they hated me.” He muttered under his breath.

(7) (Minecraft) Council of the Heir:

The young woman stared down the hill at the small, quaint farm that rested at the base. She squinted, rubbed at her eyes, then looked again. Still there.

“Well.” She muttered. “This isn’t how I expected my Monday afternoon to go.”

(8) (Minecraft) bad dreams (oneshot collection):

Steve opened the door to Alex's room, holding up a torch to find her sitting hunched up against the wall beside her bed. He didn't bother asking why, as the muffled cries from beneath the cabin were the reason he'd gone to check on her in the first place.

(9) (Lego Monkie Kid) (untitled LMK oneshot):

Nezha stood stone-faced with his arms crossed over his chest, regarding the figure that stood in front of him for a few moments before finally breaking his silence.

“I was expecting the Demon Bull King.”

“Well, my father is occupied.” Red Son told him haughtily, pushing his glasses up his nose. “You ought to be thankful, Lotus Prince. You could have gotten no one at all.”

(10) (Minecraft) His World:

"Come on!" Annabelle patted the side of her boat, bending over backward to get the cricks out of her back. Her dog abandoned his heedless chase of a rabbit and barreled towards the boat, launching himself inside and nearly sending the vessel off to sea without her. "Hey!" Annabelle grabbed the side, laughing as her dog fell in an ungraceful heap in the bottom of the rowboat. "Skip!" Unperturbed, Skip scrambled back to his feet, panting merrily.

Tagging uhhhh @christian-latte-anon, @ldinkaofficial @galaxythedragonshifter aaaaand I can’t think of any more fic writers off the top of my head so. YOU 🫵 if you see this post and write fanfiction, you are tagged.

Rules: Share the first lines of your most recent ten fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written fewer than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway

From most recent to least recent :)

Edit: OHHHH I MISREAD I MISREAD!!! I thought this was specifically about fics you’ve posted. Ohhh.

Well, have the first lines out of my most recent posted stories XD

1. Unempty Boats (a poem rather than a regular fanfic)

You said you were going away

and then it started to rain.

At first I thought you meant something, but then I realized

that you meant something else.

2. Pebbles, Wood Lice, and Other Alright Things

Tommy shifts, wincing as he feels a pebble pressing into his back. It seems like he can feel every single pebble beneath him tonight, no matter how small. He didn't used to; he used to have a mattress, and the mattress was thick enough to block out all the rocks. It was comfortable, too. He and Wilbur both slept on mattresses when they first got to Pogtopia, but then Techno told them that the mattresses would get all moldy because the caves are damp. Tommy told him that he didn't care and that he could handle a little mold, but Wilbur—stupid Wilbur—agreed with Techno, so they'd tossed the mattresses. Now they sleep on the ground, with one blanket beneath each of them. The blanket doesn't really do much to protect against the rocks. It's not very comfortable either.

3. Endless Field, Singing Tree, Blue Sweater (Dandelion)

Ghostbur is in a dark place.

4. Better Than a Painting, Because Paintings Aren’t Perfect

Wilbur hasn't been to a beach in over thirteen years.

5. If You Want Love

"Do you want to hold him?"

6. keep running for the sink, but the well is dry

You're having a panic attack.

7. Little Songs

Ghostbur knows he shouldn’t stare into the sun.

8. Promise Me You Won’t Leave (This Time)

It's around seven in the evening when Wilbur bursts through the door.

9. I Was Nothing But A Kid Who Couldn’t Understand

It's gotta be here somewhere.

10. Cool People Don’t Draw Bees

Tubbo waits.

I like how every single fic (excluding the poem, which is obviously formatted differently) starts with a single sentence, apart from number two which is a hekkin monster of a paragraph sjsgajgsjsfsg my goodness-

No pressure tags: @biathediamond @thisistheendtimes @cryingtulips @icyfox17 @salineroses @kanerallels @thatfriendlyanon @cats-inthe-cradle @winterinhimring and anyone else who wants to hop in! :)

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

VIII ║ Concentric

Dieter Bravo x f!reader

 { << Part 7: Contrary | Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist }

Rating: E (18+ only)

Summary: You and Dieter come full circle.

Warnings: Shenanigans, fighting, drinking, swearing, dirty talk, oral sex (f receiving), face sitting, safe unprotected sex (be smart kids!), multiple orgasms (f and m), cumshot, cum play, size kink, light spanks, yearning, mentions of food, fluff, feelings, no use of Y/N

Word count: 11.5k (it's only fitting that we break the word count record on the last chapter!)

Note: October 2013. That was the last time I finished a WIP, and that one took me 6.5 years. Years, I kid you not. So please forgive me for being extremely melodramatic and emotional about finishing Consent in just over 5 months.

I thought I was done with fanfiction and writing, and I've never been happier to be proven wrong. I wouldn't have believed it if you told me the next series I'd complete would be about a man called Dieter Bravo. You've all been the most incredibly supportive readers, and I'm so lucky to count many of you as friends. I don't know what I've done to deserve you. Thank you, thank you, thank you - this is for all of my fellow Dieter Bravo hoes (affectionate) ❤️ 

I had a lot of help for this chapter. To avoid any spoilers, I will be thanking everyone at the end of this chapter.

There’s always a jarring sense of disconnect when you land in a country you’ve never been to before. Even more so after a red-eye, a connecting flight you almost missed and a long drive from the airport to the little seaside town you’ve seen so much of in Ana’s stories.

It doesn’t help that you’ve been wide-eyed the entire journey, your head too loud to switch off.

The sleep deprivation makes it doubly surreal to see the mountains, the Tyrrhenian Sea and picture-perfect towns zoom past the car window. To feel the sunshine on your face as your taxi eases around hairpin turns on the coastal roads, then down narrow streets - barely squeezing past the summer crowds - as your destination draws close.

The car purrs to a halt in front of a charming pink-orange house that looks like something straight out of Under The Tuscan Sun, where Ana is waiting impatiently. She nearly rips off the door handle and throws her arms around you as soon as you clamber out of the car.

‘I missed you!’ you mumble into her hair.

‘You too, bitch!’ she squeals, dragging your suitcase off the sidewalk. ‘Let’s get you unpacked and showered. We’re going on a cast and crew sunset cruise in a couple of hours, so you can finally meet Richard Linklater. I hope you brought something pretty to wear!’

You didn’t pack much summer attire with you to Calgary, but you did bring your trusty yellow dress from that night, which feels like a lifetime ago - if not from another one entirely. The shower perks you up somewhat - at least you don’t smell like an economy plane cabin anymore. You’re putting on your makeup in a futile attempt to cover up the dark circles under your eyes when Ana comes back to the apartment.

She hands you an espresso and a cannoli, which you take gratefully. ‘Thank you so much. My biological clock is so confused, I don’t know when I last ate.’

‘Don’t worry, hon, there will be plenty of food and drink on the boat,’ says Ana. Eyeing you over critically, she runs a makeup brush or two over your cheekbones, and dabs some colour onto your lips. ‘You look great. Shall we?’

The town is absolutely darling, and you have to pinch yourself to make sure you’re not actually dreaming this. The weathered cobblestones are slippery beneath your leather sandals as you trail behind Ana. Your tummy rumbles at the smell of sweet tomatoes and baking bread, and you can’t help but run a hand over beautiful summer fruits as you walk by stalls on street corners, brimming with produce. Exuberant Italian conversation surrounds you, and you lose yourself in words that you don’t understand.

Your breath catches when you round a corner and the blue sea comes into view, the fresh scent of salt and summer in the air. With her arm hooked through yours, Ana leads you across the water front, pointing out her favourite restaurants and watering holes, clearly having settled well into her workplace these past months. You’re distracted when you spot a familiar low wall, recognising it as where Dieter and Constance posed for one of their many Instagram stories.

Distracted, you nearly walk into Ana when she stops abruptly in front of an extravagant-looking yacht, spread over two levels, her arms outstretched in a flourish. ‘Ta-da! The perks of the movie being financed by a rich local guy - free boat trip every weekend!’

‘Fancy,’ you remark, suddenly nervous that you’re underdressed for the occasion.

‘He’s newly divorced too,’ she adds with a wink. ‘And stop fussing, you look fantastic. Come on, I see Richard - I’ll introduce you!’

The boat is fairly full, people bustling about with drinks and canapes in hand. Despite being jetlagged and incredibly starstruck, you manage to somewhat hold it together when Ana introduces you to your favourite director. She offers to get you a cold drink and leaves you to chatter with him. You talk about your favourite movies of his, his career, and a bit of yours, before someone shows up at his elbow to whisk him away. You shake his hand and thank him for his time, and he gives you his business card before he takes his leave.

The boat pulled away from the port while you weren’t looking, sailing smoothly towards the calm, open sea. You glance about, trying to look nonchalant and to keep your breathing under control. Now that you’ve met your hero, you have to contend with the fact that you came to Italy for something else.

Someone else.

A voice catches your ear. Familiar and gruff, drawling in a bored monotone.

There’s no dramatic swell of music in your ears, or the fading of the world until it’s just the two of you and no one else. It’s almost anti-climatic, really. 

You tilt your face towards the upper deck - and there he is.

One of his signature earth-tone t-shirts (you know he has more than one) hangs comfortably off his broad shoulders, sunglasses hooked at the neck, dragging the ragged neckline low. The sea breeze ruffles his curls, longer than they were on Resurgence, the sun bringing out undertones of gold. He’s chatting to a man - or rather, being chatted at - leaning his weight on his elbows on the bannister, scratching at his beard, wearing his usual air of indifference. 

One look and the clocks turn. It takes you right back. You remember exactly what it’s like to be that close to him, to be wrapped up in the broadness of him - the feeling of his body warmth, how soft his t-shirt is when you rest your cheek on his chest.

You haven’t moved a muscle, but somehow, his head turns just a fraction, and he finds you.

If not for the physical distance between you, you’d be convinced that he’s reached inside you and squeezed your heart with the whole of his hand until it stopped pumping, blood roaring inside your ears with nowhere to go. His stare - bewilderment and awe and hunger - pins you to the spot.

And you know. You just do.

They are the same eyes you woke up to so many mornings. First thing when consciousness seeps in and you blink away the last remnants of the night before, his arms around you or yours around him. Through thick lashes and peeking from under heavy eyelids, syrupy-slow with sleep as they sweep over the contours of your profile, lips curling into a warm smile.

Yours.

He’s long stopped listening to the man, and even from where you are, you see him grip the wooden railing tight, disturbing his rings, the same ones he always wears.

Then she appears.

An Aperol Spritz in each hand and a small plate of canapes balanced awkwardly on the sides of her wrists, she nudges his side hurriedly with her elbow, her platonic tone carrying despite the rush of the sea. ‘Oi! Grab your drink, dude. Come on - it’s slipping!’

The naked panic on his face only reaffirms what your intuition tells you.

Ana finally returns to you with chilled champagne, grumbling about the crowds at the bar. Taking a glass, you turn to her and nod towards the upper deck. ‘So - Dieter and Constance.’

‘What about them?’ she asks innocently, taking a big gulp of bubbly.

You watch as Dieter furiously whispers into Constance’s ear. Her eyes widen in obvious excitement, darting everywhere until they settle on you for the briefest second before she schools in her features. You hear Dieter hiss, ‘Don’t be so freaking obvious, Jesus Christ.’

You fight the urge to giggle - and you never giggle. An Oscar winner and an Olivier nominee walk into a china shop and they’re about as subtle as two bulls after a red flag.

You turn to Ana and ask conversationally, ‘They’re not really together, are they?’

She shrugs, poker face firmly on. ‘Don’t know what you mean, hon.’

‘Ana,’ you put on a serious tone.

Never one to stand her ground under pressure, she surrenders far too easily. ‘Fine, they’re not! Before you yell at me, it was all Dieter’s idea. And I’m sorry it upset you, but I’m not sorry that it worked! I’m not going to apologise for helping him get you back.’

The words tumble out of your mouth before your head catches up. ‘He wants me back?’

It’s beyond strange to acknowledge aloud what’s between you and him for the first time. You’ve never even articulated it to yourself.

Ana beams, bumping shoulders with you. ‘You better believe it, hon.’

Your head feels like it’s filling up with helium and any second, you’ll be lifted off the wooden deck. You’re so fucking confused - should you be angry that he basically tricked you into coming here? Should you be elated that he went to such lengths to get you here?

There are no answers, but there’s booze. Lots of it. 

So you bring the glass of champagne to your lips and tip your head back, draining the flute until there’s nothing left.

‘Whoa! What are you doing?’ squeaks Ana as you plant the empty glass on a cocktail table nailed to the deck.

Crossing your arms, you say, ‘You’re right, his little ploy worked. But if he thinks he can mess with me without paying for it, he’s got another thing coming.’

‘For fuck’s sake, can’t you two just talk to each other like normal people for once?’

‘Ana, I was miserable! For weeks!’

‘Girl, I’m gonna give it to you straight. Even if he didn’t pull this Constance bullshit, you would’ve been miserable anyway because you broke up with him!’ She clasps her palms together in a desperate prayer. ‘I’m begging you, can you two please just make up!’

You hold out stubbornly. ‘Not until I’ve messed with his head at least a little bit.’

‘This is not what I signed up for,’ Ana grumbles.

You laugh and drape an arm over her shoulder, giving her a squeeze. ‘It’ll be fun. I promise. I flew all the way here, I deserve a little restitution.’

She whines. ‘Hon, come on, what am I going to tell Dieter?’

You hold up a stern finger. ‘Nothing. You can’t tell him that I know, you owe me as much. I also need you to distract him while I talk to Constance.’

She frowns. ‘Constance? What are you planning?’

You wink and turn to leave without giving her an answer.

Ana watches you go with a long-suffering sigh. She’s taking a deep glug of champagne when Dieter ambushes her, startling her into a coughing fit.

His usual air of chaos has intensified exponentially, she can almost feel it physically vibrate off of him. He spills Aperol everywhere when he asks with his hands. ‘What the fuck, Ana?’

‘What?’ she shoots back defensively.

‘Why didn’t you tell me she was coming? Are you double crossing me?’

‘Double cross - what does that even mean in this context?’

Dieter’s not interested in her answer though. His eyes are darting about, looking for you. ‘What’s she doing here? Did our plan work or did you tell her?’

Technically, you found out on your own, so Ana is comfortable lying through her teeth. ‘I didn’t! She said she came to see me and to meet Richard, that’s it.’

He’s talking to himself now more than anything. ‘She must suspect something, but I don’t think she knows about the whole set-up.’ Pausing, he pokes her in the side in a warning. ‘You can’t tell her that you know I think she knows.’

Ana’s eyes nearly roll behind her skull in exasperation. ‘Couldn’t if I wanted to. Here’s a bright idea - why don’t you go talk to her?’

Dieter’s frown deepens as his determination hardens. ‘No, fuck that. She broke up with me. I’m not going to be the one giving in.’

Ana waves in a frenzy to get someone’s attention to refill her empty glass, letting out a cry of relief when a server starts making their way over. ‘What do you mean by not giving in?’

Dieter swigs his glass clean and sticks it out to the server to fill it up. ‘Keep doing what Constance and I were doing. Until she cracks.’

‘Just so we’re on the same page, this entire weekend, you’re going to keep pretending to date Constance and throw it in her face, instead of just making up? What could possibly go wrong?’

‘Way to be supportive, Ana.’

She gives him dead eyes in response. If only Pete was here to back her up. Speaking of whom - he’s really missing out big time. She’ll have to call him to fill him in tonight.

Dieter half-turns to leave, but something catches his attention out of the corner of his eye. He does a double take, craning his whole body forward and squinting dramatically to take a better look. 

‘Ana, why the fuck is my girlfriend talking to my fake girlfriend?’

Constance is not hard to find, with her willowy figure and luscious curls billowing in the wind. She seems to have recovered her composure from when she first spotted you, and when your gazes meet on your approach, they give nothing away. 

‘Hi Constance,’ you say casually in greeting.

She plays it cool with a polite smile. ‘Hi there. Have we met?’

‘I know you know who I am, Constance.’

She blinks her doe eyes. ‘I’m so sorry, I really don’t think I do.’

You shuffle in closer and say under your breath, just in case someone overhears. ‘I know you were in it with Dieter - his little plan to get me jealous. Ana told me.’

The mask melts so quickly that you can’t help but find it endearing. Dragging you by the elbow into the privacy of the cabin, a sincere crease in her brow, she confesses, ‘About that, I’m really, really sorry. I didn’t want to do it at first, I swear. But he’s so smitten with you and he was just about ready to try anything to get you back -’

You shush her and grab her free hand. Both of you have just enough alcohol in your systems to feel the pull of the universal, sisterly bond between drunk women, despite having only met thirty seconds ago. You reassure her, ‘No, please don’t apologise. I’m not angry - well, a tiny bit mad at him for messing with me, but not at you.’

‘But I feel so bad,’ insists Constance. ‘You must have felt strongly enough to have flown all this way. Please, if there’s anything I can do.’

‘Listen, if you want to make it up to me - you could do me a favour.’

Constance nods solemnly. ‘Anything.’

You grin mischievously. ‘Will you help me get back at Dieter?’

Dieter mopes in his corner on the upper deck, growling and hissing at anyone who dares approach, drowning himself in Aperol Spritz. He doesn’t particularly like that stuff, but when in Rome and all that shit.

From his perch, he can see and hear you laughing loudly at something Constance says to you, champagne in hand, having a whale of a time.

There’s no two ways around it. His plan failed. Ana’s right. You came to see your friend, not him. If you did and knowing you, you’d be doing something to get his attention. You’d be trying to make him jealous. You’d be mad, spitting flame and venom.

You’re giving him nothing. You haven’t even deigned to glance his way after you locked eyes for that brief moment.

But… you’re wearing that dress. Surely you haven’t forgotten what happened the last time you showed up in his trailer wearing that -

Another peal of laughter pulls him from his thoughts. He slurps on the straw until it gurgles at the empty bottom of his glass.

You didn’t expect to like Constance. It turns out she grew up in the same county as you, just a few towns over, you even share a few distant mutual acquaintances. You chit-chat about everything - your schools, the local beaches, working with Dieter. 

The boat has anchored in the middle of the sea for the sunset, and you’re sitting on the deck at the back with your feet dangling in the cool water, sandals by your side. You marvel at the view - the beauty of this place is unreal. Village houses hug the rugged shoreline, stacked one on top of the other in gravity-defying fashion up the steep cliffside, dramatic mountains rising above behind the town. The setting sun throws a rose gold tint over the valley, the sky burning orange.

Even if you don’t go away with what you came for, this could be enough.

Constance giggles drunkenly, looking over your shoulder. ‘He’s watching you again. You’ve really riled him up.’

You resist the very great temptation to take a peek. But you know Dieter - the longer you hold out, the better the payoff later.

There’s a scrape of footsteps and Ana appears with her phone out. ‘Selfie time, bitches!’

‘How’s Dieter?’ asks Constance, shuffling over to make space for Ana.

She sighs. ‘So confused. When will you put him out of his misery, hon?’

You shrug. ‘He can hold out a little longer. Constance, remember, you have to keep up the whole charade for maximum effect, ok?’

She wrinkles her nose. ‘It would be weird doing it in front of you though.’

‘Are you a working actress or not?’ you tease.

Ana chortles, and Constance raises her glass. ‘Alright, alright, I’ll do it - for you. To new friends.’

The three of you clink glasses clumsily, bumping shoulders and cackling at everything and nothing at all. 

You’ll drink to that.

When the yacht docks, spontaneous dinner plans are made, with those wanting to prolong the evening revelry wandering down the cobblestone streets to a trattoria frequented by the cast and crew.

The dozen or so of you sit at a long, rickety table under fairy lights, the plentiful food and drink illuminated by candles dripping wax as they burn low. Easy conversation, a mix of English and Italian, ebb and flow over the course of the slow dinner.

You’re sitting in the middle of the table, flanked by Ana and directly opposite Dieter, with Constance to his immediate left.

The actress keeps her promise to you, practically dousing Dieter in PDA. She’s feeding him pasta, handing you her phone to take photos of them kissing and practically sitting in his lap. He’s unresponsive, staring at you openly throughout dinner.

It takes all of your resolve to not give in to meet his eyes.

The street gets rowdier by the hour, and the group thins after dessert and limoncello is served. When an impromptu band shows up and starts playing music right next to your table, Constance tries to pull Dieter to his feet for a dance, but he’s like dead weight, pouting and somehow burrows himself deeper into his wooden chair. Unperturbed, Constance grabs Ana instead, joining the raucous crowd gathering on the sidewalk.

It’s just the two of you left at the table.

You finally let yourself look at him, finding his gaze already trained on you. You took it easy on the wine over dinner, allowing the rich food to soak up all the alcohol you had on the boat. But you still feel buzzed enough to do something bold.

Scooping a generous helping of tiramisu and bringing it to your lips, you lick the underside of the spoon, collecting the cream on your tongue, before pushing it into your mouth. Your eyes flutter close as you moan around the spoonful of smooth mascarpone and coffee-soaked biscuit.

Dieter’s jaw goes slack, and you spot the pink tip of his tongue between his parted lips, his chest rising and falling quickly. Leaning forward, you reach out and trace your index finger up the back of his hand until you reach his ring with the black gemstone. He doesn’t try to hide the shudder that runs like a current through his body.

The power you so easily wield over him is both sweet and heady. You decide to push him further, leaning your elbows on the table and drawing your shoulders together, making the neckline of your dress gape and your cleavage pop.

The way he stares is gasoline to the fire under your skin.

When you speak, he demonstrates that he still remains somewhat in possession over his faculties as he drags his gaze up, with considerable difficulty, to your face.

You wear a bright smile, and your tone is syrupy sweet. ‘You’re one lucky guy - Constance is amazing. Honestly, I think you’re perfect for each other. I’m so happy for you, Dieter.’

He echoes your words, slowly. ‘You’re… you’re happy for me?’

You blink, butter wouldn’t melt in your mouth as you answer, ‘Yes, I am. So happy for you.’

He stutters, before his words peter out. ‘But - but you were meant to be -’

‘Meant to be what?’ you prompt.

When he doesn’t reply, you give him a pat on his hand. ‘Take care of yourself, Dieter.’

He’s so stunned that he doesn’t react as he watches you go. 

Dieter thinks for a second, the pasta and pizza and bread having absorbed enough alcohol from his bloodstream for him to dig deep for some clarity within himself. He re-runs your words in his head, a deep frown on his brow.

Hold the fucking phone.

He scrambles onto his feet so hard that his chair hits the pavement, and he runs after you.

He crashes through the crowds half-blind, angry Italian cursing thrown his way, until he leaves the ruckus behind. He doesn’t even know where he’s going, but by some miracle he spots yellow, and with one last push, he throws himself in front of you, wheezing and leaning heavily on one hand against the wall to block your path. 

You’re staring at him in genuine concern. ‘What are you doing? Are you ok?’

Finding his voice, he opens with an apparent non-sequitur. ‘You do impulsive things when you’re mad. You know that, sweetheart?’

You brows knit in confusion. ‘What?’

‘You heard me.’

You humour him, arms crossed. He knows that you probably think he’s just drunk. ‘Ok. Like what?’

‘Like flying 6,000 miles to see me.’

‘I’m here to see Ana.’

Dieter shakes his head slowly, a smile unfolding as he begins to find his footing for the first time since you appeared out of thin air and turned his day upside down. ‘She sold me out, didn’t she? Constance too. I should’ve known they’d be on your side.’

You snort. ‘You’re talking crazy, Bravo.’

He crowds you against the wall, meeting no resistance as your back hits the stone, and he coaxes. ‘Admit it, sweetheart, and I’ll give you everything you came for. I just need to hear it from your pretty little mouth.’

You hold your tongue stubbornly, but he sees your pupils dilate and senses a shift in the crisp evening air.

He grins, finally establishing control over the situation, which sobers him up like nothing else. You’ve tortured him all day - it’s time he has some fun. 

Leaning down to your ear, he growls in a register that he knows will get you wet for him. ‘Tell me you came for me, sweetheart. And then maybe - I’ll make you cum for me.’

You just about lunge at him, but he holds you in place with hands around your upper arms, crowding you, drunk on the power now that the tables have turned. He wags a condescending finger at you, tapping the tip of your nose. ‘Uh-uh-uh. You heard me, sweetheart. C’mon, four little words. You can do it.’

That does it. You bare your teeth at him, panting as you struggle in his grasp. ‘You’re such an asshole.’

Dieter makes a buzzer noise. ‘That’s four words, but not the right ones.’

‘Over my dead body,’ you spit at him.

He tuts. ‘Sorry, sweetheart, no deal. Well, I guess I better go -’

He lets go of you and spins on his heels, but he doesn’t even get to take two steps when he feels your hand wrap around his wrist and haul him around with surprising force. 

He deliberately knocks into your body, hands landing on your waist and his weight holding you in place. You all but snarl at him, ‘Don’t you fucking dare walk out on me again.’

There she is, he thinks to himself, chest swelling with pride at the fire in your eyes.

He runs a finger down the side of your cheek, the gentle touch in direct conflict with the words that come out more affectionately than he intends. ‘You never make things easy, do you? You get off on making my life hell, hmm?’

Your eyes soften, but you still run your mouth brash. ‘You don’t like it easy, Bravo. You’d get bored.’

He chuckles, and leaning in to brush the tip of his nose along yours, he tries again. ‘Did you come all this way to see me, sweetheart?’

He isn’t gloating, or trying to trip you up.

You cup the side of his stubbled cheek, and you decide to let him in. ‘Of course I did, you fucking idiot -’

And then he’s kissing you.

Your hand is tightly wrapped in his as he leads you through a maze of alleyways, as if he’s worried that you would bolt. You won’t though - you’re done running. 

The strain in your calves begins to make its presence felt after several flights of stone steps, the long journey earlier today kicking in as the adrenaline fades. You yawn and Dieter notices, pressing a kiss to your knuckles. 

‘Almost there, sweetheart,’ he promises you, dragging you against his side with a hand on your hip, taking some of your weight. 

You watch from under drooping eyelids as he turns the key and opens the door to a two-storey house. A lone lamp glows in the corner of what appears like a comfortable sitting room, but you’re too tired to be curious to look around. 

Dieter steers you up cool tiled steps, having helped you out of your sandals. He all but pushes you up to the bedroom, hands firm on your waist so you can focus on just putting one foot in front of the other. 

The mattress is soft and welcoming as you flop down nose first, muffling your groan as you give in to the exhaustion that you’ve been putting off all day. He chuckles, rolling you onto one side of the bed. 

‘Let’s get this dress off, shall we, sweetheart?’

Even in your prone state, you attempt to put on a coy smile, pushing the straps off your shoulders. ‘You know you want to.’

He chuckles, turning you over to find the zip and pulling it down. He mock admonishes you, ‘Keep it in your pants, woman.’

Dieter feels almost bashful peeling your dress off, baring skin that he hasn’t touched for too long - he has to wait a little longer for that. You never sleep in your bra, so he unhooks that too, averting his gaze, and grabs a comfortable t-shirt from the dresser.

‘Arms up, sweetheart,’ he cajoles, and you comply despite grumbling sleepily. The t-shirt slips easily over your head. 

It’s a warm night, so he lets you stretch out above the duvet as he strips down to his boxers. He opens the window to let in a cool breeze to bring down the temperature in the room. It’s been baking in the sun all day. 

Dieter shuffles onto the mattress behind you, no hesitation when he tucks your body under the crook of his arm. He breathes you in, nose in your hair, a deep calm settling into his bones as he feels your steady breathing. He tightens his grip on you and lets sleep claim him. 

You’re not sure if it’s the church bells or the light streaming through the patio doors, but it’s a clean awakening, your eyes snapping wide open as you take in the bedroom you barely saw last night before passing out.

It’s strangely comforting to see he’s brought with him across the Atlantic the same mess that you became so used to. Inside-out t-shirts and shorts draped on chairs and flung carelessly onto random spots on the floor, where they’ve stayed. A glass of water half empty on his bedside table, his reading glasses and a couple of rings next to it. One slipper at the foot of the bed, the other nowhere to be seen.

You look down at the t-shirt you’re wearing. It’s one that you often borrowed from him for bed, and it makes you smile.

Following the smell of fresh coffee and bread, you pad quietly downstairs, admiring the rustic living space flooded in morning light, the open patio doors leading to a lush garden, letting in a soothing draft.

Dieter is perched on a bar stool at the counter in the open kitchen, already dressed for the day. He looks up from his phone when you approach, the corners of his eyes crinkling when he beams at you, and he breathes out something like relief when you slot into the V of his thighs without any trepidation.

‘What’s this? Dieter Bravo out of bed and dressed before,’ you pause and squint at the clock. ‘Ten in the morning?’

‘Not just that,’ he gestures at the breakfast spread on the table with a proud puff of his chest. ‘I provided.’

You smirk and rest your palms on the top of his thighs. ‘No Deliveroo around here, huh?’

‘It’s sink or swim, baby. Got pretty hairy for a while.’ He grabs a paper cup and pushes it into your hand. ‘Got you a cappuccino from my favourite barista. Try it.’

‘You have a favourite barista? Not just a favourite cafe?’

‘Of course. I have a favourite barista for cappuccino and another one for espresso.’

‘That might be the most obnoxious thing I’ve ever heard.’

He gives you a wink. ‘I’ve put down roots here, baby.’

‘Dieter Bravo has roots?’ you quip. ‘Do you even speak the language yet?’

He replies in an exaggerated Italian accent, complete with hand gestures. ‘A leetle beet, bella signorita.’

You laugh and take a sip of the cappuccino, sighing deeply at the rich, roasted flavour. ‘Thank you, this is delicious.’

Rough palms rest on the small of your back, pulling you flush against his chest. His eyes are warm and open as he confides in you, ‘This job’s been really good for me.’

You run your fingers through his curls. ‘I know. I can tell.’

‘And Calgary’s been good for you too?’

You nod, and you hesitate for just a moment before you answer, ‘They’re going to offer me a contract for the second season.’

It’s not that you’re trying to catch him out, but you watch his reaction closely. You see nothing other than excitement before he presses his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. ‘That’s my girl.’

Suddenly quiet, you go still, and your change in demeanour doesn’t escape him. He pats you playfully on the bottom to get your attention. ‘What’s wrong, sweetheart?’

It’s hard to meet his stare when you’re trying to find it within yourself to get the words out. You fixate on a small stain on his shirt instead, rubbing your finger over it.

He waits patiently, and to give you an out, replies lightly, ‘Couldn’t get the stain out. It’s ragu from my favourite place in town - I can take you there if you want.’

‘I’d like that,’ you smile gratefully.

But the thing is - you don’t want out. You want in. 

You take a deep breath and take the plunge. ‘Dieter - should I sign that contract?’

It’s the longest five seconds of silence, and it takes all of your self-control to not twist around in his grasp and run up the stairs. Finally, he leans in to kiss you deeply, and you’re glad he’s holding you up when your knees give.

He pulls back and runs his thumb over your cheekbone. ‘Can you hold out for another two weeks?’

You wish you didn’t answer so quickly, but you can’t help the breathless yes that slips out. Of course you fucking would.

Dieter holds your gaze. ‘Just so we’re clear - I want to be in the same place as you, sweetheart. Or at least close enough to commute to you. Is that ok?’

You nod, a stupid grin breaking across your features. ‘Yeah, that’s ok.’

‘Now that we’ve gotten that out of the way,’ Dieter winks at you and grabs a paper bag from the kitchen counter. ‘You’ve got to try this.’

You peek inside and ask skeptically, ‘Is that… a doughnut?’

‘No, it’s a bombolone.’

‘Out of all the Italian things I haven’t tried, you picked the most American -’

He shoves the sugar-covered pastry into your mouth to shut you up, laughing as an indignant squeal catches in your throat. You bite into the pillowy doughnut, a thick smear of the chocolate filling spilling out and painting your lips, sugar crystals sticking to the mess.

Dieter wrinkles his nose jokingly. ‘You look so hot like this, sweetheart.’

Swiping at the chocolate from the corner of your mouth with your index finger, you push it between his lips. His eyes darken immediately as he sucks on it, the mood in the room swinging instantly into familiar territory.

Running your tongue across your lips, you put the rest of the doughnut in its bag and lick the sugar from your fingers. ‘I hope you haven’t had breakfast yet.’

His big hands dip underneath your shirt again to cup your bottom. He raises an eyebrow at you inquiringly. ‘Oh? Why not?’

Your back arcs and you rub your ass into his touch. ‘Because this pussy hasn’t been eaten in a very long time.’

His eyes snap shut at your words as if they physically pain him, impatient hands now sliding up your front to cup your bare breasts. ‘Fuck, baby. Is this the first thing you think about in the morning, you filthy girl?’

You kiss him sloppily, more tongue and teeth than anything, and Dieter pushes you away to hop off the stool, pulling off your shirt in the one smooth motion. He runs two fingers along the seam of your panties, smirking at the wet spot he finds. ‘Did no one else take care of this pussy while I was away?’

‘You know there’s no one else,’ you whine, letting him walk you into the living room, until the back of your knees hit the sofa.

‘Good,’ he growls into your ear, spinning you around and pushing you onto your knees into the cushions, hands on the spine of the sofa. Possessiveness clouds his mind as he runs his gaze over you every inch of you. ‘All mine.’

Slowly, he drags your panties down your legs, kissing the back of your thighs. You writhe under his touch, the scrape of his beard on your sensitive skin making you shudder. You moan, ‘Dieter. Please.’

Spreading you open, he tells you through clenched teeth, ‘I can see how wet you are, sweetheart. So pretty.’

‘Don’t tease,’ you beg, feeling your pussy flutter around nothing, your ass in the air as you grip the sofa tightly. ‘I need -’

You break off in a moan when Dieter closes his lips around your clit in a wet suckle, dragging the broad of his tongue through your core messily. His nails dig into the swell of your hips to hold you in place as you writhe, dipping into your pussy to taste you. Too long. It’s been too fucking long since he’s had you.

He traces his tongue along your contours patiently. He’s waited so many months, he can hold off the want to fucking devour you just a little bit longer. The tip of his tongue draws insistent circles on your clit, your hips undulating while you chase your pleasure. He feels a tremour run through your body before you bury your head into the sofa, muffling your cries. 

Oh no, that won’t do.

He brings his palm down in sharp clap on your pillowy cheek, making it jiggle. You gasp, head snapping up and around to glare at him. ‘What was that for?’

He shoots you a dirty grin, chin already shiny with you. ‘Wanna hear you scream, baby.’

You pin him with an audacious stare. ‘Make me, then, Bravo.’

As if he isn’t already rock hard, he has to bite down on his bottom lip to wrangle himself under control. He groans, ‘Can’t just go around saying shit like that, baby.’

You smirk, knowing exactly what it does to him, enjoying his desperate little whimper. You shift to widen your stance, knees sinking deeper into the sofa, teasing him, ‘What was that about the screaming again?’

For one second, you think you’ve pushed too far when Dieter draws clear from you completely. Before you can protest, there’s a scrape of wood on stone as he pushes away the coffee table clumsily. Leaning on the sofa, his long legs splayed in front of him, you can see the clear outline of his erection through his shorts. He lays the back of his head on the edge of the seat, meeting your panicked eyes when you look down at him between your legs.

You squeak. ‘What do you think you’re doing?’

He grins, reaching up to nip your inner thigh with his teeth. ‘You want me to make you scream, right? Come sit on my face, baby.’

Holy fuck. You hear the metallic zing of a zipper being pulled down. Dieter’s eyes squeeze shut, his neck muscles pop, and you feel his hands move, out of sight. ‘I’m so fucking hard for you, baby. Please, ride my face while I stroke myself -’

‘Oh god,’ you grit out when you lower yourself onto his tongue, hips jerking when he grips one of your thighs almost painfully, grunting as you slide wetly on his tongue. Looking down, your lips part when you catch him watching you with a frown of quiet concentration as you grind down on him, too keyed up to find any sort of rhythm. It’s messy and crass, desperate above all else.

You know you’re drenched. Almost embarrassingly so. One of your hands drops to tangle in his hair, curls sticking to his forehead as his hairline beads with sweat.

‘Baby -’ You’re out of breath as you feel your orgasm building. ‘I’m close - oh god, Dieter -’

His fingers close around the plump flesh of your ass, and with a violent shudder, you’re thrown over the edge into a heaving, knee-shattering high, your slick and his spit dribbling down the inside of your thighs as you scrabble for air. Collapsing bonelessly onto the spine of the sofa, you feel Dieter wipe his saturated chin on your skin, leaving a cool trail, and you jump as if it burns you.

His whispers tickle the shell of your ear as he climbs onto the sofa behind you, cradling your smaller frame with his. ‘You came so hard, sweetheart. Such a good girl.’

You groan indulgently as he wraps himself around you. One hand finds your breast, and the other dips between your legs, a growl rattling in his chest when his fingers slip uselessly over your sodden pussy, unable to find any purchase.

‘All this cum for me,’ he hums, crooking two fingers to gather your slick before bringing them onto his cock, which nudges you just above your ass, stroking it languidly. ‘I missed you so much, baby.’

You nearly stumble over your words, too highly strung. ‘I missed you too. So fucking much.’

One hand turning your cheek, he claims your mouth possessively, sliding his tongue in to mark you with your own taste. Heat spreads across your skin as he caresses your lips sensually slow, his hand sliding down to hold your throat gently. He feels rather than hear your breath catch before you swallow thickly, the movement intimately pressed up against the tips of his fingers.

Sliding his cock through your wet folds, he pushes two fingers into your mouth to wet them. He fucking loves the feel of your tongue on him - anywhere on him. Mindful of how sensitive you are after you came, he runs the lightest path from your clit to your entrance, then up again.

‘Have you been touching yourself while I was gone?’ he asks gruffly.

‘Yes,’ you admit without putting up any resistance.

‘Stretch that tight pussy with your fingers?’

At your frantic nod, he retorts with a feral edge to his voice. ‘You pretend it was my cock instead?’

Gasping when you feel him notched at the mouth of your pussy, you cry out, ‘Yes!’

‘Well, you must have one hell of an imagination. How could these little fingers -’ he grabs you by the wrist and sucks on them, one by one, leaving them spit-soaked, before wrapping them around his throbbing cock. ‘- stretch you even a fraction of how my dick does?’

You flush at the filth tumbling out of his mouth, and you’ll be damned if you don’t give as good as you got. You smirk, ‘Why don’t you find out?’

‘Don’t have to ask me twice, baby,’ he grins into your shoulder, and one thick finger slides into you.

You feel his smile falter and his teeth dig into your skin instead. He groans into your ear, ‘Sorry to break it to you sweetheart, but you’ve been doing a pathetic job.’

You squeeze your hand around his cock and he lurches against you, grabbing you in a silent warning. You blink sweetly at him. ‘Stop gloating and do something about it then.’

Your smile falters when he pulls out of you, only to reenter with two fingers, and your chin drops to your chest at the fullness as he fills you. His ribcage vibrates with a satisfied hum against your back, sweat building up where your bodies meet.

‘Relax, sweetheart,’ he says, mouthing sweet kisses down your spine. ‘You’re doing so well for me. Good girl.’

Taking a deep breath, you do, and he eases in even further, eliciting a sharp gasp when he hits a particularly sensitive spot inside you. He works into you at a steady pace, sometimes shallow, sometimes knuckle deep, until you start to pant, your hips twisting in pursuit when he draws out of your wet heat.

‘Harder,’ you demand, and he tightens the arm wrapped around your waist, pumping in earnest, teeth bared as he draws increasingly loud squelches from your cunt. He hisses when he feels you begin to clench around him, whimpering, ‘Fuck - fuck I’m gonna come again -’

Dieter wraps his whole body around you as you thrash in his arms, desperate sobs racking your frame as he rambles in your ear. ‘That’s it, let go, baby - this beautiful pussy’s getting my fingers so wet - gonna make you feel even better with my cock -’

Suddenly, the room spins and you’re lying on your back, Dieter’s weight pinning you to the soft cushions. You arch up lazily to kiss him, enjoying the heft of him on your body.

‘You ok?’ he asks almost sheepishly, nuzzling your neck. ‘Too much?’

You don’t skip a beat when you retort with a flippant shrug. ‘Honestly? Not enough cock.’

You grin at his splutter to your response. With a low growl, he grinds the underside of his erection against your folds. ‘That fucking mouth is gonna get you into trouble some day.’

You reply cheekily, ‘Sometime this morning would be preferable.’

Dieter reaches down to wrap your legs around his waist, lips on yours. ‘I haven’t slept with anyone else, but I can wear a condom if you want me to.’

You shake your head adamantly. ‘I want to feel all of you.’

Pushing your legs open wide, Dieter positions himself over you, teasing the head of his cock at your entrance, teeth sinking into his bottom lip. 

‘Look at me, sweetheart,’ he whispers, and pushes in.

Your noses knock together as he bites out a harsh fuck, rocking into you inch by inch with patient strokes.

‘So big,’ you moan, burying your nose in his shoulder. You feel his arms tremble as he holds himself over you. ‘You feel so good inside me.’

He grunts as he bottoms out, taking a second for you to adjust around him. ‘Are you still on birth control? ‘Cause there’s a very real possibility I’ll blow my load any fucking second -’

You take him by surprise when you bring a palm down onto his ass cheek in a sound slap. ‘Don’t you dare, Dieter Bravo.’

He grits his teeth at the sting that lingers on his skin and goes straight to his cock. ‘Yes, ma’am.’

He doubles down and fucks you hard, dipping his head to draw wet circles around your nipples with his tongue before biting down on the underside of your breasts, making your back arch, allowing him to fuck into you even deeper. You can only take him, hands around his neck, your lips clashing together in a wet tangle of tongue and teeth. You moan when he slides his hands under your ass, lifting your hips to change the angle. He plants his knees and thrusts into you feverishly, making your tits bounce to the rhythm.

Looking up at him, backlit by the soft morning light, you scrape your nails on his scalp, pulling at his curls until his eyes shut with a groan. His beard is scratchy on your fingertips when they draw a line down his strong jaw. You watch the endearing lines on his face crease as he watches you back, a small smile breaking through the intensity for just a moment before it gets too much again.

His knuckles on your hips turn white and the vein in his neck throbs. ‘I can’t hold on. Where do you my cum, sweetheart?’

‘Inside me, please,’ you plead, wrapping your legs tightly around his hips as he ruts recklessly into you.

His last thrusts shove you up the length of the sofa, and you watch as Dieter throws his head back when he comes. His hips crush against yours as he chokes on broken moans, spilling into you. But instead of winding down, he keeps pumping into you even when you feel his cum leak - hot and sticky - out of your cunt.

You look up at him, confused. ‘What - what are you doing?’

‘I’m still hard,’ he pants, eyes screwing shut from overstimulation, his body wound up painfully tight. ‘Oh god, fuck, I think I’m gonna cum again, baby -’

‘My tits - cum on my tits,’ you demand hurriedly.

He pulls out of you, and you feel his spend dribble and pool onto the sofa below. Cock in hand, Dieter clambers upwards, knees on either side of your hips as he strokes himself frantically, his tanned skin flushed with a sheen of sweat.

‘Ready, baby?’ he pants as he braces above you.

You nod and push your tits together, the visual sending him over the edge. He cries out your name, and you watch with your lips wantonly open as lewd, white lashes spurt over your nipples, the swell of your breasts, dripping into the valley of your cleavage.

With one last, strangled whine, Dieter collapses half onto you and half onto the couch, and you beam proudly at how absolutely wrecked he looks. You did that. You stretch languorously, and his gaze follows intently as beads of cum drip from your breasts and down your sides in thick streaks.

‘Look at you and your multiple orgasms,’ you tease, shuffling closer to peck him on the lips.

He grunts. ‘Didn’t wanna get upstaged by you, sweetheart.’

You shiver when he brushes a finger through the mess he made on your tits with a deep groan of satisfaction before pushing himself up with great effort, and settling himself between your thighs. Pinching your folds together gently, he groans as a pearly bead of his cum oozes out of you, feral eyes meeting yours. ‘I love seeing my cum all over you and inside you, baby.’

Glancing down at the wet patches on the cream-coloured sofa, you quip, ‘I don’t think you’re gonna get your rental deposit back, though.’

Sidling up to you, he kisses you and grins. ‘Totally worth it.’

The next time you wake up, it’s definitely the church bells ringing for the evening service that rouse you.

‘C’mon sweetheart, it’s dinner time.’

You turn to Dieter’s voice and pout sleepily. ‘What?’

‘You passed out after we took a shower, and I didn’t want to wake you for lunch,’ he recounts the missing hours to you. ‘Ana brought your suitcase around, by the way.’

You swing your legs off the side of the bed and stretch with a yawn. ‘She’s the best. We need to buy her dinner or something. Constance too.’

Dieter pulls you onto your feet to nuzzle the side of your neck. ‘Nope, sorry - you’re mine this weekend. Especially since you’ve already spent about half of it passed out cold.’

You roll your eyes and wriggle out of his grasp to unzip your suitcase, bending over to rummage through it for something to wear. ‘Hardly my fault that I find jetlag more compelling than your company, Bravo.’

He grins when you yelp at the smack that lands on your ass. ‘Hurry up, sweetheart. I’ll take you around the neighbourhood, and we can get pizza from my favourite place for dinner.’ 

Your stomach answers for you with a comically loud rumble. ‘Yes please, I’m starving.’

The streets look different in the dying daylight. You bask in the twilight sunshine, senses in overdrive as you take in the surroundings.

Dieter lets you drag him into a gelato shop to get a refreshing frutti di bosco in a cone, which you both take turns licking and biting into as you stroll through the neighbourhood. Then he ducks into a tiny deli to get some burrata and prosciutto in case you get midnight munchies later. As you get closer to town, the crowds start to thicken, and Dieter feels you shrink into yourself.

Brushing a kiss to your temple, he reassures you, ‘There’s no paparazzi here, sweetheart. I’ve been here for three months and no one has recognised me even once.’

Your shoulders relax. ‘And your fragile Hollywood ego lived to tell the tale?’

He pulls a squeal from you when he dives in for the last bite of the cone without warning, sucking melted purple gelato off your hand.

The pizzeria is tucked away on a side street, tiny tables and stools lining either side of the entrance, and there is no sign above the door. Stepping inside the dark interior, it’s piping hot with three men behind the counter, rolling out dough and cooking pizza in a wood fire oven, trading rapid-fire Italian.

A man with grey hair and an impressive handlebar moustache exclaims when his eyes land on the two of you, stepping from behind the counter. ‘Dieter! Amico mio, vieni qui!’ || ‘Dieter! My friend, come here!’

They embrace like life-long friends, the older man babbling Italian at him while he babbles back in English. You’re absolutely certain neither of them knows what the other is going on about.

Dieter gestures at you. ‘Lorenzo, I want you to meet my girl.’

He makes a delighted noise and kisses you flamboyantly on both cheeks. ‘Questa è tua moglie, vero? Buonasera, signora Bravo! Che bella coppia!’ || ‘This is your wife, yes? Good evening, Mrs. Bravo! What a beautiful couple!’

Dieter winds an arm around your waist and tells you proudly, ‘This place makes the best pizza in town, and they don’t even have a name! I found it one night when I was drunk off my ass. The best margherita I’ve ever had. Am I right, Lorenzo?’

The Italian smacks his lips in a chef’s kiss as if in agreement. ‘Voi avrete i bambini bellissimi! Te lo giuro!’ || ‘You two would have the most beautiful babies! I swear!’

‘Lorenzo says it’s something about the flour they use in the dough. Or was it the yeast?’

A wistfulness creeps into the Italian’s tone, and he suddenly leans forward to grip your chin between his thumb and index finger. You suspect he’s not exactly on the same topic of yeast. ‘L'amore è bello. Voi mi ricordate me e mia moglie defunta, pace all’anima sua!’ || ‘Love is beautiful. You remind me of my deceased wife and I, God rest her soul!’

Dieter claps his hands together to wrap up the unilateral, bilingual conversation. ‘Anyway - can we order the margherita and artichoke? Takeaway, please.’

Lorenzo lets your chin go and presses a kiss to his hand, then dispatches it heavenwards. ‘In onore della mia amata moglie, Maria, Includo gratuitamente un regalo speciale! I miei colombini preferiti!!’ || ‘In honour of my beloved Maria, I will include a special treat for free! My favourite lovebirds!’

Dieter pays for the order and a couple of limonata from the fridge, and you retreat outside to wait for your dinner. Sitting down on a low stone wall opposite the shop, you take a sip of the fizzy lemonade and remark, ‘Now, that’s what I call a character.’

He beams and laces his fingers through yours. ‘Isn’t he great? I want to move here someday.’

Your eyebrows reach for your hairline. ‘Really? Dieter Bravo living la dolce vita? Leaving behind the lights and vices of Hollywood?’

Before he can answer you, a piercing screech sends your heads spinning around to see Ana running down the street towards you, shouting and waving, ‘Hey, lovers!’

You laugh as she smothers you in a hug while simultaneously fiddling with her phone. ‘Oh my god, you guys are fucking adorable. One second, one second -’

You shriek when she brings up her phone to show you who’s on the screen. ‘Oh my god, Pete! We miss you!’

He waves at you through Facetime. ‘Babe, I cannot believe I’m not there to witness this first hand. It’s not fair! Let me see you two together!’

Ana grabs the phone and angles it so you and Dieter are both in the shot, and sing-songs, ‘Kiss cam, lovebirds!’

You roll your eyes. ‘Ana, we’re not just going to -’

You’re cut short when Dieter ambushes you with a full-mouthed kiss, and you hear both Pete and Ana squealing excitedly.

‘What are you doing? These two don’t need any more encouragement!’ you chide halfheartedly when he finally draws back, releasing your lips with a wet pop.

Dieter points at Pete through the screen then at Ana. ‘We’re keeping it under the radar for now, okay? No leaks to the papers or any of that shit.’

Ana nods solemnly. ‘Lips are sealed.’

‘I’m totally not screen recording this right now.’

You narrow your eyes at the phone. ‘Pete - ’

‘I’m joking, I swear!’ he protests. ‘Totally not crossing my fingers behind my back.’

Lorenzo appears with three pizza boxes even though you’re sure Dieter only ordered two, and he shepherds you on your way while speaking Italian, presumably saying something to the effect of eat it while it’s hot.

Ana waves, heading in the opposite direction. ‘I’d invite you for drinks with Constance and I later, but I doubt Dieter would let you out of your sight for even a second.’ 

‘She’s staying in my bed till Monday morning. Naked.’

‘Dieter!’ you admonish.

Ana laughs and winks at you as he impatiently drags you away. ‘Have fun, lovebirds. I’ll see you back stateside!’

And Pete gets the last laugh. ‘Don’t you forget - I called best man!’

A spiral staircase winds up to the rooftop you didn’t know existed, and you gape at the view from the top. The sea laps in the distance, blue and orange, waves rippling as if in slow motion. The rest of the town sitting on lower ground is laid out below your feet like a chaotic streetmap, the dinner-time ruckus a muted buzz in the distance. 

The terracotta tiles are sunwarm beneath your bare soles as you set the rustic dinner table under the canopy. Dieter appears at the doorway with a bottle of wine and two wine glasses.

‘I forgot the water. Do you want some?’ he asks.

You step around him and peck him on the cheek. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get it.’

You hum to yourself as you traipse your way back upstairs with a jug of water and two glasses full of ice from the kitchen. Dieter lines up the three takeaway boxes side by side, and rubs his hands in anticipation for the big reveal. ‘Alright, ready for the best pizza of your life, sweetheart?’

‘Go on, then,’ you grin.

He’s barely cracked open the first box a sliver - you catch a glimpse of a perfectly baked crust - before he snaps it shut with a panicked, ‘What the fuck?’

You frown. ‘What’s wrong?’

He pinches the bridge of his nose, the other hand on his hip. ‘Lorenzo - he pulled a prank on us.’

You reach for the box to see for yourself, but he snatches you by the wrist. You sigh, ‘C’mon, Dieter, I don’t care as long as I can still eat the pizza without getting food poisoning. I’m actually going to faint from hunger.’

He lets you go cautiously, holding his hands up soothingly like he’s trying to talk you off a ledge. ‘Just - promise me you won’t freak out, okay?’

You cross your arms. ‘You’re actually scaring me now.’

‘It’s not a declaration or anything. I didn’t ask them to do it.’

You’re about this close to stamping your foot like a child, but you take a deep breath and reply, ‘Dieter, seriously. I promise I won’t freak out, just -’

You trail off when he opens the box and you stare down at the contents.

It’s a heart-shaped pizza.

Any and all apprehension bleeds out of you as your shoulders quake with laughter. You open the other two boxes, which are identical in shape, with different toppings. Turning to Dieter, you pull him in by the scruff of his shirt to plant a kiss on his lips. ‘I love it.’

The relief is clear in his features. ‘Really? You’re not gonna flip and run off in the middle of the night?’

‘Unless there’s a diamond ring baked into the cheese - no, I won’t,’ you give him your word.

Dieter winks and kisses the centre of your palm. ‘Oh, you should be so lucky, sweetheart.’

Making yourself comfortable on the cushioned bench, you pat the space next to you. Reaching out for a slice of what smells like the best margherita you’re about to have, you sniff, ‘Be quiet and eat your pizza, Bravo.’

Pouring red wine into your glass, Dieter rambles on conversationally, ‘So… since you like heart-shaped pizza, does that mean I can get you heart-shaped cookies? Heart-shaped donuts? Heart-shaped marshmallows -’

Using his own trick on him, you shove the slice that was destined for your plate into his mouth instead to shush him. He spills wine everywhere in his haste to put the bottle down, and you laugh as he sputters. 

His mouth full, he shakes a finger at you as he chews and swallows. ‘I’ll get back at you for that, just you wait.’

You smile sweetly and grab another slice. ‘I’d like to see you try, Bravo.’

Pulling you flush against him, he looks down at you playfully, but his eyes are soft. ‘I will always try, sweetheart.’

And you know he will.

Rebecca is enjoying a rare evening alone. Coco is over at a friend’s pool party and won’t be home until after dinner, and Hank is still at the office. She flops heavily onto the outrageously expensive sofa she so rarely gets to enjoy, kicking off her high heels, when her phone buzzes. She arches an eyebrow when she sees the name on the screen.

‘Hello, darling. Long time no speak.’

‘Hey Becks. Listen, do you have any TV roles for me?’

‘Not even a hello, how are you, dear agent?’

She shakes her head fondly as he parrots back word by word, ‘Hello, how are you, dear agent?’

‘TV, you say?’

‘Something that will stick for at least a couple of seasons, in LA. And make sure it’s something edgy.’

‘By edgy, do you mean something that might have an intimacy coordinator role that needs filling?

‘Yes.’

‘And does that mean you want me to take your name out of the hat for the next Spielberg movie?’

There is no trace of doubt in his reply. ‘Yes.’

‘Alright then. I’ll have a scout around and send you some options in the next few days.’

‘Thanks, Becks.’

She smiles into the phone. ‘I’m happy for you, darling. Send her my love, please, and we’ll have you both around for dinner soon.’

‘Yes, ma’am. Will do.’

Two weeks later, a package arrives at your flat in Calgary, and you hand in your one-month notice the next day.

A covering letter to the contract directs you to an address in Sherman Oaks to drop off the documents in person the next weekend. You’re not aware of any studio offices in that particular part of town, but you need to go back Stateside to sort out something at your bank anyway, so it’s not particularly out of the way.

You slow your car down to the crawl when your phone announces that you’ve reached your destination. It’s clearly a residential area, and you double check the address - you’re definitely at the right place. Maybe it’s the HR director’s home address. You’ve been to far stranger places in your career, so you shake it off and walk up to the modern, white-washed house that sits on two floors, with a minimalist garden in the front.

You glance about at the tidy hedges after you press the doorbell, and you hear footsteps approach at a leisurely pace. You put on a professional smile in anticipation.

The door opens, and your jaw drops.

‘Hello, sweetheart.’

Before you can make heads or tails of the situation, the envelope in your hand slips out of your grasp and you launch yourself at him. Dieter staggers backwards with a laugh, his hands full of you and his lips on yours. It’s been three weeks since you said your goodbyes at the airport in Italy, with promises to see each other when filming wraps for the both of you in another month or so.

You can’t resist slapping him on the chest in rebuke for showing up unannounced. ‘What are you doing here?’

He shrugs nonchalantly. ‘Thought you’d appreciate a house tour now that you’ve signed up to the project.’

You look around, taking in the dark wooden floors and high ceilings painted white as he scoops up your abandoned papers and closes the front door. ‘What house tour?’

‘I told the studio you’ll be living with me. It’s the only reason they hired you, by the way, because we’ll be saving them accommodation costs.’

You know he’s trying to get a rise out of you, so you don’t give him the satisfaction of a quick-tempered answer. Instead, you cock your head to one side, and purse your lips. ‘How did you know I want to live with you?’

His answer is unexpectedly forthright, and it hits you right in the stomach. ‘I don’t, but I hoped you would. I want to live with you.’

Rocking onto your tippy toes, you reach for him, but before your lips meet, he stops you, brandishing a piece of paper in your nose. ‘One minute, sweetheart. Since we’re now both employees of this show, we should really sign this Relationship Consent Form for HR before we do anything else.’

You blink and take a mental step back, suddenly alert. His smile is perfectly benevolent, which is suspicious in itself. He’s trying to pull something, you just know it.

But you go along with it. ‘Sounds like the responsible thing to do. You got a pen?’

Right on cue, Dieter pulls out a fancy-looking fountain pen and his glasses from his shirt pocket. ‘Voila. This way, sweetheart, we’ll do this in the kitchen.’ 

The foyer opens up into a large and modern kitchen space, with a marble counter separating it from the dining room. You like it - it’s not as coldly sleek as the apartment you shared while filming on Resurgence. It looks homey and lived-in despite knowing for a fact that the most Dieter’s ever used it for is pouring milk into a bowl of cereal.

He pulls out a chair for you at the dining table, even pushing your seat in before settling opposite you. You keep a watchful eye on him at this show of gallantry. Pointedly ignoring you, he smooths a hand over the consent form sitting in front of him, uncapping his fountain pen dramatically and putting on his reading glasses.

With a clap of his hands, he announces. ‘Ok, here we go. Fill in the name of Party A.’ He spells out yours letter by letter as he scribbles. ‘And Party B: Dieter Bravo.’

From where you’re sitting, his handwriting is barely legible and absolutely not contained to the pre-drawn lines.

‘I can do the writing, if you want,’ you offer, eye twitching at the mess.

Dieter smiles at you. ‘I got it, sweetheart, thanks.’ Clearing his throat, he reads the first question out loud. ‘Are Party A and Party B engaged or intend to engage in sexual intercourse?’

He looks up at you, as if expecting an answer. You frown. ‘What?’

‘You have to say the answers out loud.’

‘What?’

He taps somewhere on the piece of paper. ‘To consent, you have to say the answers out loud. Says right here.’

You sigh heavily and reply, ‘Yes.’

Dieter scrawls the answer with a flourish, and moves on to the next question. ‘Is the frequency or intended frequency of said intercourse between Party A and Party B expected to be equal to or exceed once a week?’

‘Yes.’

‘Are Party A and Party B engaged in or intend to engage in an exclusive sexual relationship?’

Your answer comes out sharper than you intend as your patience wears thin. ‘I fucking hope so.’

His lips twitch, but he doesn’t look up. ‘That’s a yes, then. Are Party A and Party B engaged in or intend to engage in an exclusive romantic relationship?’

You cross your arms suspiciously. ‘An exclusive romantic relationship? That’s an actual question in the form?’

He points somewhere in the middle of the page. ‘Yes, it says right here.’

‘I’m sorry, why does the studio need to know that?’

He sighs. ‘Sweetheart, it’s a simple question - yes or no?’

You shift in your seat, feeling vulnerable, but you answer in the affirmative. ‘Well, I mean, if I’m going to be living with you - yes.’

The smile he gives you nearly reaches his ears, and you smile back, before he looks down at the form and continues, ‘Now, this is an interesting one. Is Party B’s genitalia the most substantial Party A has ever had in terms of length and girth?’

Not even Dieter can keep a straight face.

You growl, reaching across the table to rip the piece of paper from his hands while he howls with laughter, reading glasses coming off. ‘Ugh, Dieter Bravo! You’re so fucking juvenile!’

He’s literally wiping tears from his eyes. ‘You should’ve seen your face, sweetheart. You were taking it so seriously.’

You run a critical eye over the form. It was obviously done in Word and printed out at home since the margins are all off. ‘You used Comic Sans? Comic Sans? You might as well have written this in purple crayon!’

‘Hey! Don’t judge a consent form by its font, sweetheart.’ He rounds the table and grabs it from you, pinning it onto the kitchen counter with his pen. 

‘I forgot one last question, it’s an important one,’ he says, and you squeak when he lifts you up onto the cold marble surface of the kitchen counter by the back of your thighs. Close enough to bump noses, his breath hot on your lips, he asks, ‘Does Party A consent to being thoroughly railed on this kitchen counter by Party B right about now?’

Grabbing the pen sitting next to you, you scribble carelessly over the sheet, before tossing it somewhere behind you without looking. It floats languidly, landing feather-light on the kitchen floor, soon joined by hastily half-unbuttoned, half-unzipped clothing and underwear. 

Your answer to Dieter’s question - all his questions - is scrawled across the page in a clear, emphatic hand.

Fuck yeah.

[ the end ]

Very long note: This wasn't the easiest chapter to write, but then, I guess finales never are easy! Having said that, I already knew what the last scene was going to be when I decided to make this a series, and it was surreal to finally see it typed out in black and white.

I also made sure the supporting cast - Pete, Ana and Rebecca - each made a cameo in this last part. They've been so important to the plot, and your reaction to these OCs makes me so warm and fuzzy inside. I'm very happy with the way this chapter turned out eventually - I hope you are too!

I've left things fairly open in this finale. I don't feel like Dieter and Reader have to make any grand declarations to each other, or to put a label on anything, for this stage of their story to be complete. This also gives me the space to explore their relationship in further instalments. While I don't see another full-fledged series in this universe, there will definitely be drabbles and one-shots in the future.

Before I lose my shit and start crying up a storm, I need to give credit to these lovely people who helped me with this chapter.

❤️ First, I want to thank Cristina @pedropascalsx for making the gif set for the last ever sneak peek. It really set the tone for the finale, and I will cherish it forever.

❤️ Second, thank you Kat @katareyoudrilling for helping me with the Italian translations. Your notes were so detailed, I loved learning about the language from your explanations.

❤️ Third, the heart-shaped pizza idea came from a reblog @hquinzelle left for a previous chapter, and it's been stuck in my head since! Thank you for letting me use this idea for this chapter.

Lastly, thank you to every single one of you who have interacted with this fic in any way. I have been blown away by your love and support every step of the way. Thank you for taking a chance on this story, which started off as a horny one-shot (and my first time ever writing smut), and ended up a short series that I'm so proud to have written for this beautiful mess of a man and - most importantly - for all of you❤️

Ok I'm going to go bawl my eyes out now.