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ladykailitha · 1 day ago

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Spellbound Part 1

Normally I would post Caged Bird today, but this has a much larger backlog, sooo! Happy himbo witch time!

Summary: It's a quiet, idyllic life in the town of Hawkins. For everyone but Eddie Munson. You see, his look and cottage scream witch. The long, curly, dark curls, the black clothes, and dark and broody cottage all point to Eddie as a witch. But no. That title belongs to Steve Harrington down the way. In bright and cheery house, dressed in green and a sunny disposition. Things start turn in the town when Chrissy shows up on Eddie's doorstep thinking he's the witch.

Eddie Munson was everything one expected a witch to look like. He had long, curly, dark brown hair and dark brown eyes. He wore dark makeup and painted his nails black. In addition to the only color palette liked was reds and blacks, he wore lots of jewelry, including many things that people associated with witches like pentagrams, animal teeth, and beads.

The house he shared with his Uncle Wayne was light grey, ramshackle, little cottage with black roof, door, and trim. The front of the house was overgrown with vines and wild flowers.

So he really shouldn’t be surprised when people would knock on the door looking for a witch.

He opened the door with a sigh. “Can I help you?” he asked the stranger.

She was pretty thing, a little younger than him. She had bright green eyes and her strawberry blonde hair was neatly arranged on the top of her head. She wasn’t very tall, but her green dress gave her long lines.

“I need a love charm?” she asked with a blush. “I just want to know if the man my father wants me to marry is the right one, you know?” She twisted her handkerchief nervously in her hands.

Eddie sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The witch lives two houses down and across the street. Great big sign that reads: ‘Harrington Witchery, charms, curses, and wishes performed here’.”

She looked down the way at the bright yellow house surrounded by neat plants and the perfect ray of sunlight on the door and then back at him in confusion. The door opened and the witch stepped out. He had honey colored hair and hazel eyes. He wore bright blue robes today and had the sunniest smile.

Eddie could feel his face flush as the witch waved over at both of them.

“Here he comes,” he said with a pinch of dismay.

“Hi,” the witch said brightly. “Are you looking for the witch?”

The young woman looked back at Eddie and then at the witch. “Yes?”

“Fantastic!” he said beaming at her. “I’m Steve Harrington, witch extraordinaire. Please to meet you!”

“Chrissy Cunningham,” she said shyly. “I was wanting a love charm?”

“I’d be happy to help you with that,” he said putting his arm over her shoulder, “let’s leave the grumpy Gus to his music playing, shall we?”

Eddie huffed. “That’s Mr. Grumpy Gus to you!”

Someone smacked him on the back of the head. “Don’t you go antagonizing the man who makes my arthritis medicine, boy.”

Steve stopped and turned around. “When do you need a top off on that, by the way?”

“I’m running a bit low,” Wayne admitted. “It was bit rougher this week with that huge storm we had.”

Steve nodded. “I’ll be over with the packet after I’m done with Chrissy.”

“I’ll have the tea ready for you,” Wayne said with a fond smile.

Chrissy looked around the house as he led her through to the back of the house. It was neat and tidy with every clearly labeled in a neat cursive hand. There was something bubbling on the fire, but from the smell it was probably dinner and not a potion. She could smell the beef and vegetables.

There were two rooms off the one side and the privy to the other. It was everything the opposite you would expect of a witch’s house. The animals on the other hand fit. One was a raven sitting in the windowsill being fed by a beautiful woman dressed in a dark blue gown. The other was a Tortoiseshell cat with bright green eyes, who meowed at her and jumped away.

“Merlin!” Steve admonished. “Be nice.”

The cat stopped in its hasty retreat and meowed back at him.

“Well she can’t help that,” he answered as if he understood what the cat was saying. “Now, run along and actually catch the mouse that has been stealing your food.”

Merlin meowed again and was off.

“He’ll never catch that mouse,” the woman said.

The raven crowed, seemingly in agreement.

“Then you catch it, Circe,” Steve huffed, hands on hips. “I know you can and you complaining about Merlin’s abilities doesn’t catch the mouse any faster.”

The raven crowed and flew off, causing the woman to laugh. “She won’t catch it either.”

“Yes,” Steve agreed, “but with her it’ll be because she doesn’t like being told what to do and not because she can’t.”

Chrissy shifted nervously from one foot to the other. “So about that love charm?” she asked tentatively.

Steve jumped. “Oh! Oh my god! I got so wrapped up in familiar politics I nearly forgot you were there. Here, just let me...” he began gathering supplies.

Some twine, a bit of silk, some herbs and oddly a couple of flowers too. Ivy, lilac and pansy. He swiftly made them into a doll and handed it to her. “A lock of your hair, and snip of your petticoat will finish the job. Then whisper into its ear all the things you want in your true love. Then the next time you touch your betrothed, you will know if he is your true love.”

“That’s all?” Chrissy asked, staring down at the doll, no bigger than her palm.

“Yep!” he said brightly. “Robin will help you with the hair and petticoat. I’ll be in the front room preparing Wayne’s medicine.”

Chrissy blushed and nodded. Robin stood up and wandered over to the desk to grab the scissors.

“Are you a witch, too?” Chrissy asked as she held still for Robin to clip a bit of her petticoat.

Robin stood up with a smile. “Not yet, but I hope to be. Steve is teaching me. I’m still a little clumsy with the potions but I’m good with the herbs. Steve says that I could be a hedge witch!”

“Oh!” Chrissy cried. “I didn’t know there were different kinds of witch. What kind is Steve?”

“The tired kind!” Steve huffed from the front room.

Robin giggled. “Don’t make me laugh when I’m about to cut her hair!” she admonished.

Steve looked over his shoulder and gave her a completely unrepentant grin. Robin huffed and gently took a bit of curl from the base of her head near the neck. She took the doll back from Chrissy and tied both pieces to the doll.

“Now,” she said brightly, “just whisper all your wants and desires for a future soulmate. It’s actually good you’re doing it now. A lot of people do it as kids with childish hopes and dreams which isn’t great for adult relationships.”

Steve came into the room dusting his hands off on a towel. “That’s unfair,” he huffed. “It’s not childish, it’s childlike. And who knows love better than someone who hasn’t been taught to hate yet.”

Chrissy tilted her head to the side. “I think I’m with Steve on that one, Robin.”

“Yeah, well,” Robin said rolling her eyes and stepping back. “Doing it as a child hasn’t done Mr. Witch over here any good. He had his made by his mom when he was seven and fifteen years later, he still hasn’t found his true love.”

Steve threw the towel over one shoulder and put both hands on his hips. “I still maintain that it’s because I’m witch and can’t get out much that’s why I haven’t found them yet.”

“I still thi–” Robin began and then was cut off with a wave Steve hand. She glared at him.

“It won’t last very long,” Steve growled, “but long enough that Miss Cunningham won’t be here for that particular argument.”

“She thinks you’ve already met your true love?” Chrissy surmised.

Robin jumped up and down and nodded with a huge grin.

“Robin is operating under the delusion that the goth down the road is my soulmate,” Steve huffed putting his hands back on his hips. “Never mind, it’s a guy, he absolutely hates me because people keep mistaking my house for his.”

Chrissy blushed a deep red. “Yeah, sorry about that. But it’s the commonly held belief that witches are–”

Steve held up his hand. “I’m going to stop you there. I won’t gag you like I did Robin. But I don’t know where those ‘commonly held beliefs’ come from, but witches have never worn black or had black cats or flew on brooms. Hedge witches in particular favor nature’s colors of blues and greens and browns. But you’re all set to go.”

Chrissy recognized the dismissal that it was and turned to leave. She barely got a single step when she turned around.

“What about payment?” she asked, uncertain. “Surely you need something in payment.”

Steve’s eyes seemed to glow gold for a moment as he spoke. “There is no need to pay for a love charm, there being more love in the world is enough for the spell. And it is only spell that does so.”

“Your other charms and spells have payments?” she asked, now a little nervous.

“Most of them require a trade or a simple favor,” Steve said, seriously, “like running an errand for me. But if you ask for a potent charm, one would almost call a wish, that is all you will get from me. You’ll never be able to find my house ever again. You’ll see me around town and I can visit you. But you require some powerful magic, then that’s it. I will not be used to fix every problem you see fit.”

Chrissy gulped and nodded. She clutched the doll to her chest and ran off.

“Steve...” Robin said, darkly. “There was no need to frighten her.”

Steve leveled her with a glare. She backed off, hands in the air in surrender. He stomped back to his potion, the small cottage darkening with his foul mood. The raven flew into through the window and landed on his shoulder, rubbing her beak on his temple.

“I’m fine, Circe,” Steve mumbled, scratching the raven’s neck. “I think Merlin was right about her. She wasn’t here for a good reason. I think she just wanted to prove to everyone that Master Carver’s son isn’t her soulmate. I don’t think she’s actually interested in finding true love.”

The raven crowed and cawed.

“Of course you caught the mouse,” he huffed, gently shaking his head not to dislodge her from his shoulder. “What did you do with it?”

Circe cawed again and Steve laughed. “Of course you did. Merlin is probably pouting. He’ll play with its corpse once he’s done.”

The raven made a sound suspiciously like laughter and then flew away. Robin came up and put her hand on his shoulder and then pulled him into a hug.

“I heard what you told Circe,” she mumbled into his shoulder. “You’re right of course. Merlin, too. She was trying to hard to believe in your magic. She was just looking for an excuse not to marry dickface.”

“That’s Master Dickface to you,” Steve teased halfheartedly.

Robin snorted. “Yeah well. That’s probably the last we see of her. He’ll turn out to be her soulmate, she’ll be forced to marry him and she’ll live in the ivory tower the rest of her days.”

He let out a shuddering breath. “I’m heading over to visit Wayne to deliver his medicine. I’ll be back later.”

She grinned and jumped up and down. “Maybe the hottie gothy will be there and you’ll finally touch and it’ll be...” she clutched her hands together and batted her eyelashes, “true love!”

He pushed her off of him and wrapped up the blue packets of medicine. He paused for a moment and then took a jar of Mrs. Henderson’s homemade raspberry jam and added it to the basket.

Robin took a loaf of bread from the cooling rack and wrapped it up. “There you go, little yellow riding hood! Of to Wayne’s you go! Don’t let the big bad goth eat you!”

Tag List: TEN OPEN SLOT REMAINING

1- @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog @sadisticaltarts @dolphincliffs

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @cryptid-system @kultiras

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #witch steve harrington #witch au

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alwaysthefool · 2 days ago

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Coincidence (Sylus x Reader/MC)

Tags: Angst, no comfort, jealousy, misunderstanding, GN Reader, MC Reader

Warnings: major insecurity,

Synopsis: You see Sylus with someone else, causing a misunderstanding between the two of you

It definitely wasn’t one of your best days. Your hair had been dull from exposing it to too much heat, and your skin was facing a breakout. He’d seen you at your worst and best before, and besides, Sylus didn’t care for those things so you didn’t think much about it when he called you over.

Maybe you should have.

She was everything you weren’t, everything people said you lacked, with a beautiful smile and perfect teeth. He called her closer to whisper something in her ear, to which both of them laughed, before she noticed you, gracefully bid her farewell to Sylus, and walked to the door.

“Will I be seeing you at the banquet tonight, sir?” She asked, turning slightly.

“I’ll let you know.” Sylus turned his attention to you, his lips curling up, and suddenly it did not feel so genuine. It felt cunning, manipulative, and the second you found your own brain blaming you for insecurity, you realised your thoughts were being manipulated. He wasn’t using his aether core or evol, it was all a plot, a power play to lift up your spirits and let you down, over and over again. Right?

“…you coming?” Sylus, whose voice was generally hard to ignore, had been talking about something.

“What?” You frowned, not sitting down or making yourself comfortable in his office like you usually would, which made him stand up and walk towards you.

“Would you like to come with me to the protocore auction tonight?” He repeated, staring deep into your blank eyes. He said he could see people’s deepest desires, and at that time you didn’t know what you even wanted.

“I’m actually busy.” You cautiously stepped back, feeling worse than you did when he first called you there. It hurt worse than your heart at its weakest state, than your throat all those times you’d scream when nightmares terrorised you, probably more than any other time an opponent hurt you.

He was about to say something, but a bailing ring on your phone interrupted you. You glanced quickly at who it was— Tara— and excused yourself to pick up the call, a cheerful voice saying something about being bored on her week off, and without a pause, you replied saying you’d be there.

“Really?!” She exclaimed, and you also realised how you’d been neglecting your friends, spending your free time with him instead.

“Really.” You replied solemnly, just walking out of his manor, only dropping a text that a friend needed you for something important.

You thought he’d chase after you, try to stop you, at least text you to stay, but he did nothing of that sort, and you were soon at Tara’s house with a pack of beer, chips, and hidden feelings.

“Maybe you should see other people.” She suggested, looking down at your palm to read the lines. “It seems like you’ll have many romances- ooh, I know, why don’t we go out tonight? Maybe we’ll find the one!”

“Tara, we’re not finding ‘the one’ at the club.”

“You never know!” Although she took the week off to recover, she was quite jumpy when getting ready, helping you too. It was pleasant to have someone like that around in times like those.

You looked better, finally, dressed well with your hair done, although you shouldn’t have done that considering how weak it was, but it felt nice to just feel adored for the first time in days. Tara took you to a tiny get-together with some of her team, the club thankfully not being too crowded. You got along with her friends, the free cocktails helping you get your mind off things.

It seemed you really hit it off with Andrew, captain of the analytics division, who also didn’t seem to mind Tara partying on her time off. “Everyone should have time off every once in a while.” He said, as the two of you watched her dance her heart out with a smile on your faces… and then trip on her own feet and fall.

The two of you rushed to her, helping her up, and calling a taxi for her. She insisted for you to stay and enjoy, telling you she’d be fine by herself. Andrew started to scold her for being reckless but she told the Taxi driver to step on it before he could finish, earning another laugh from you.

The cool breeze made you shudder, and the team leader gave you his coat. You thanked him shyly, the two of you talking for a while outside, until you spied a shiny eyed crow perched on a light pole, immediately ticking you off.

He was with someone else, so why was he interested in what you were doing? You put your arm on Andrew, leaning in to whisper something in his ear, holding his hand as the two of you went back inside.

Back at the base, Sylus watched you through Mephisto’s eyes, not having attended the auction himself as you wouldn’t be going.

“So that’s why you blew me off.” He mumbled to himself, turning off the screen after commanding Mephisto to make sure you got home safe.

He wondered what happened, where he went wrong, how he could fix things. You seemed down for a while, so he set up a perfect date night for the two of you, acquiring tickets for a ball in another city, having a designer deliver garments that would suit you personally earlier that day, because a week ago you told him you wished to attend one of those while mindlessly scrolling through the Pinterest board on your phone. He thought he’d surprise you, but then you hurried away from him, making him think something bad happened.

Now he supposed you just liked the simpler things in life, and a simpler man, too. Is that who called you when you ran without a bye? When he stared deep in your eyes and saw disgust again? You hated him, right? You liked someone else, right?

“Have it your way, sweetie.

Now I won’t chase after you.”

-x-

Pssst if you liked this, i wrote this concept (with a follow up happy ending chapter) for ZN too, I’ll link it in the reblogs!

Also let me know if you want a Part 2 to this and what it should be!

#sylus x reader #sylus x you #lnds x reader #l&ds sylus #love and deepspace #lads angst #sylus angst #shorts #fanfiction #headcanons #hcs #sylus x mc

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fictionalmenxyn · 2 days ago

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𝐁𝐢𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐬

Pairing: Rafe x Reader

Warnings: swearing, boys being boys (suggestive talking) and Rafe casually (to him) hitting someone.

◎◎◎

Rafe and the boys felt bored, they knew just the thing to cure that, you. So that’s exactly what the did. They spammed you with messages in their ‘the idiots and Y/n’ group chat. Then all parked their bikes on your driveway.

Rafe walked over and knocked your door. You swung it open, you shouted playfully “No!” You playfully shut the door in his face. You could hear them all laughing. You smiled and opened the door “yes yes, I’m coming I’m coming.” Kelce shouted “that’s what she said”. Earning a smack to the back of the head by Topper and a playful glare from Rafe.

Rafe looked back to you and smiled “hey, pretty girl, you got everything?” He leaned down and pecked your lips.

You smiled and nodded “yeah, got everything.” You head over to the garage and open it up. Revealing your Yamaha MT10. You pull your helmet on and get into the bike. You grew up with motorbikes, your father being a mechanic. Also a bike enthusiast. So you knew your stuff and saved your money well. Even if you’re a kook, you’re humble, not a spoilt brat. Like some….

You girl my head forward toward Rafe “put the radio thingy on, babe, please.” He chuckled as he walked over and put on your radio that connects to everyone else’s helmets. So you can all communicate.

You all started to leave the street you lived on, heading out for the day.

You all stop at a stop light. Putting your feet either side of the bike and onto the ground. You spoke “so why did you all drag me out of my comfy bed?” They all almost say in sync “bored.” You playfully roll your eyes “so I had to come?! Couldn’t have done anythinnggg else??” They all answer “yup.” You joke “hate you guys…”

They all laugh the Topper spoke “no you don’t, you love us really.” You shrug playfully “mmm don’t know, might change my mind…” Rafe playfully shoves you a little. Then the light turning green you all sped off. You asked “where are we even going?” Rafe replied “don’t know, didn’t really think that far ahead…”

You laugh “what?! What do you meeeaaann ‘didn’t think that far ahead’… sometimes I think I’m actually friends with a bunch of idiots…” Rafe playfully gasped “hey! I’m your boyfriend, correct that shit, right now!” You roll your eyes and correct yourself “I think that my boyfriend is an idiot, that better?” He nodded and laughed “yeah, babe, better…”

Topper suggested “we could head for some food? That new grill house is finally open…” you practically squeal into the radio. Causing the guys to groan, Kelce complained “could you not?!”

You laugh “sorry… I like food… can you blame me?” Topper replied “touché.”

Rafe said “yeah, let’s head there for some food, then we can think of something to do while we eat.”

You all rode through figure eight and headed towards the coast line where the food and other stores were.

You all parked your bikes up and headed down the street. Taking your helmets off as you enter the grill house. Rafe walked first. Already acting like he knew the place. A thing he always did especially at stake houses. A random thing he did but never really knew why.

Rafe asked to the waitress “could we get a table for four, please?” You smiled a little at his manners. Usually you’d have to smack him under the table or give him the ‘evils’ as he says when you shoot a quick glare at him.

The woman nodded and spoke “come right this way…” she guided you four over to a booth. You all sat in. You and Rafe on one side, Topper and Kelce in the other.

Rafe purposely leaned over to grab a menu. Making sure you got squished as he did. You knew he was playing around, since he’s done this since you two were kids. He also knew that a jab to uis ribs was coming. Which you did. Sticking your index finger out and jabbing him in the ribs. He laughed softly “what? I wasn’t doing anything…” you remarked “oh really?? So everyone you do that, you don’t do anything??” He smirked and nodded. You shake your head with a smile, unbelievable he was.

After you’ve all ate your food and paid, you once again head out towards your bikes.

Your eyes widen a little as you see some guy leaning against Rafe’s bike. And a girl taking photos of the guy. Topper muttered “oh shit…” you and Topper shear a glance before you hear Rafe “what the fuck??”

You all walk over, the guy looks over and spoke “hey dude, this your bike? It’s sick! I’ve always wanted a bike like this…” you could see Rafe’s eye twitch ever so slightly as he sees the guy adjust a few things in the bike. That’s two things that pissed Rafe off. One, a stranger getting all up in his personal belongings. And two, someone touching and adjusting things on his bike.

Rafe replied “yeah, man, that’s mine. You taking pics or sum?” He scratched his nose with his thumb. You place a hand on his shoulder blade. Rafe stepped away from your touch. Not actually kissed at you for touching him but he knew he had to take a step from you so whatever he did, you wouldn’t get caught up in it.

He walked over to the guy, “Topper, my friend here-” Rafe slung his arm around Topper “-he’ll take some photos for ya. He’s good at that shit, ain’t ya Top?” Topper nodded. Knowing where this was going. Having seen Sons of Anarchy, with Rafe.

Topper took the guys phone out of the chick’s hand. Taking a photo of the guy against Rafe’s bike. Topper spoke “that’s the before…” the guy’s eyebrow raised “before?”

That’s when Rafe’s fist connected with the guys nose. Hearing a small crunch coming from the guy’s face. You and Kelce wince at the noise. Rafe stepped back with a smirk “don’t ever fucking touch my bike… you’ll have worse next time, buddy…”

The guy held his now broken nose. Topper snapped another photo “there’s the after…” Topper then tossed the guys phone to him.

You walked over to Rafe and muttered “you really wanted to do that after watching that fucking show, hm?” Rafe smirked. Looking down to you, he mumbled “what? Can’t help it…” you joked “sometimes i actually think you wanna be Jax…”

He playfully rolled his eyes. Looking at the guy and his chick. Rafe shot him a warning glare once more.

You all got on your bikes and sped off. Your little biker gang being the knockoff ‘Sons of Anarchy’.

‘The Sons of Outer Banks.’

And turns out you guys did think of ideas on what to do for the rest of the day.

◎◎◎

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d3vdgvrlll · 2 days ago

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trauma ig

@gorelvr and anyone else who wanted it

i’ll start from the begining because it’s the one thing that will make my story similar to others. it will have a begining and an end just like anyone else’s. i have been sexually abused since i was seven years old. my cousin joe (obv not his real name i was in israel at the time) he was considerably older than me. 13, not too bad, but at the time it felt like a worlds difference. it didn’t start slowly, not at all, and pieces of it i don’t even remember. i do remember closets tho. it wasn’t just an rape either. he wanted me to like it- either that or he was just sadistic. he would make me smile and beg for it, make me please him as a lover, told me it was right since i was his blood. in fact, he would draw this blood quite often. he would pinch me, beat me, cut me, anything to make me cry, because he had a rule. if i cried, he could come back to use me again. he would do anything to draw out a mere sound of discomfort, anything, any excuse so that he could come into my room at night and violate me. he called me his wife. he called me his girl. and in my native tongue i had to tell him i loved him as well. when i was 9, after two years of this, with no one believing me (and if you ask how it’s possible, youve clearly never heard of arabic jewish culture-) i move to america. i lived in chicago, and suddenly, i was a normal girl. sure, i couldn’t speak english but i was clean. no longer dirty. i was far away from joe and i thought maybe id be far from the pain too. i was far from the bombs that rang in my ears as i walked home, the desolate shelters littered around playgrounds, the constant whisper of “you are never safe” far behind me. i was ahead of everyone else, and when i heard that another one of my childhood friends died of an attack, it didn’t feel better, but at least it wasn’t me. at least it wasn’t me.

this is where i met a friend named lucie. she was the first female friend id ever had. my wonderful grandma, who was like a second mother to me (at the time when she was alive my mother was still kind, the lines on her face less pronounced, her words filled with less poison) signed me up for swimming classes with lucie. after swimming class, me and lucie would shower together. it’s started off because i had conditioner that she needed for her blond hair, conditioner that i was willing to give up to her because she was so much whiter than me, so much purer. she then asked me for favors. to touch her. she’s press me against the wall and kiss me, and when i resisted, she wouldn’t even react. she asked me for more. she said “if you do it well this time, you won’t have to do it again.” and “kiss me for longer this time, you only did two seconds, you promised ten” and each request, no matter how hard it was for me to do, was done. and each time, there came another. no matter how much she promised it’d be the last one, there was always more. i couldn’t get away from it. i was trapped. i was scared, and i wanted her to be my friend. she taught me that if u don’t give people ur body, they won’t stay. she taught me that im worthless besides what i can offer to others. she taught me everything i know and live by, and then she left anyways .

seventh grade- i had a very nice science teacher. i was doing very well in his class. his name i really cannot say because he is still teaching at the school in illinois, and no one has believed me, no matter what i insist happened. we were doing a bridge project. i was failing, because my grandma was dying. she was dying, and she was my everything. watching her- it was the hardest thing i’d ever done. but i couldn’t avert my eyes because it felt sinful. it felt wrong to look away because it was hard to watch- she was my grandma after all, the one who raised me, loved me, showed me the good in the world. so i watched. i watched and stayed with her and read her books she couldn’t hear me reciting while she lay in her hospice bed barely breathing. i wrote down the stories she told me through her tubes, and i tried to imagine that the wires connected to her were flowers instead, that she was somewhere were her grimace was rlly a smile. she stayed alive until my birthday, my 12th birthday, because she didn’t want to ruin it. she stayed alive, in pain, riddled with so much terror, to see me turn 12. one day, i walked into her room and spoke to her, and watching her eyes try to open, her oxygen intake spike up, her stiff limbs try to reach me- it killed me. i love her and always will. it feels awful to group her with this awful man- my science teacher, but in this story they do go together, unlike in real life where my grandma was such a big and powerful woman she always stood alone. or with me. i digress, the man- let’s call him Mr.P- he failed me. i was excelling- frankly, because im very smart and quite good with physics and such, but he still failed me. (shortly after this whole ordeal i was neurologically tested and i have an IQ of 156). i walked into his class one day, and all i can remember is him smiling, saying that he would give me an oppurtunity for extra credit, but that it had to be secret- you can tell where this is going. i had already learned from lucie that nothing is good abt me besides my body, and so when he took mine, the second person to- i could just sit and cry. at least this man let me cry- at least this one didn’t kill my hair to get a reaction, with the promise of hurting me more the less i liked it. i don’t remember much besides my face being pressed against vents on the side of the classroom. i would “wake up” (ptsd) with blood between my thighs, and cuts on my face from the metal on the vents, because of how hard he shoved my face in them. he had a daughter- she was 6 at the time. when i graduated, he told me he’d do the same to her. that was the first time i cut myself. because i knew i couldn’t stop him. i knew that i couldn’t do anything. i knew that what lucid taught me was wrong. my body wasn’t even special- it wasn’t even “worth it”, it was just available.

i moved all over the US, living in austin, chicago, colorado, and florida for the longest times. chicago was my home though, and i know the city like the back of my hand. this is not something many people can say, but i survived being homeless in chicago during the polar vortex. for those who don’t know, the polar vortex is a phenomena that happens every year. winds from the arctic pass through canada and end up in the midwest, chilling the air to roughly -58 degrees F or lower. after my grandma died, my mother became mean. angry. she scared me. she hit me. it’s too much to get into and frankly, i live with her and my dad now and i feel odd talking abt it. it’s my current reality as well, but what i learned from them is that words mean nothing. so i wont spend them here. after a week of being homeless and running to and from school, living in an underpass, someone started walking “home” with me. his name was pat. this is the man i often reference in posts. he was my best friend, not at this time tho. we walked home together for weeks, not speaking a word to each other, until one day i caught an awful case of pneumonia, the second time id fallen ill with it in the month. this time, i couldn’t walk, stand, breathe, or talk. i was passed out when he found me, at least that’s what he told me. he said he carried me to his friends house and that’s were they saved me. his friends name was biscuit, and biscuit ended up being a huge drug dealer. he kept me in his attic- it had a hole in the roof but it was better than dying in the cold. i had already lost my left foot to frostbite- i still can’t feel it but i can walk on it now, which is better than before. in the attic, and idk much abt it because rlly the memory is so hazy- sometimes i wake up in a cold sweat bc im back there, and sometimes idk if im dreaming or if its real- but rlly truly i dont know for sure what happened. all i know is that biscuit used to bring his friends up there, while i was healing (they put tons of drugs in me idek what they used to help me get better but im pretty sure it was a combo of depressants and steroids)- they would pass me around. i just get hazes- visions sort of. i dont even remember. i remeber the feeling of their hands tho, and suddenly feeling a lot colder, feeling the wind on my bare skin. i remember waking up with wind rash and scabs from cigarette burns. i don’t remeber enough o accuse anyone of anything though, so i didn’t mention it to pat. in my head, he didn’t even know. i was wrong ofcourse- he knew. he always knew.

when we got better and went back to our respective homes, we stayed very close. we formed a trauma bond. codependcy. it was wonderful while it lasted, but soon, he started to fall for me. he never raped me, but he did other things. i don’t care to specify at the moment because i fear ive already gone into prolific detail about things i never wanted to think about again. truthfully, i love pat. i do. i hold no hatred towards him, and i really don’t like to talk about all the bad things he did to me, because he was my sweet boy. i never loved him like that- he was just my best friend, but when i speak about him people don’t seem to understand. he understood me, and it’s just. hard to talk about because there’s so much to say. i can’t write it all down in this small part of a bigger story because i have so much to say about him that i’d rather just give it out in pieces. if you see something tagged with #pat or #i miss him, it’s probably about him.

idk what else to say. i’ve been manipulated many times since. used, beat, thrown away. at least pat had the decency to lie to me about it while he did. i’ve never been anyone’s first choice, and i’ve never felt as loved as i did when i had him. he was my best friend, and while this story isn’t about him, it’s hardly about me either. long story short, people used me because they could. i was available. i was around. i used to feel like a victim until i realized im just not special enough to be that. im not special enough to be anything to anyone, and my body wasn’t even “chosen” to be used because its me, it was just convenience. idk. that’s as much as im willing to share. there’s more but - for now this is enough.

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hanfourz · 1 day ago

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HI POOKIES i'm soso busy this week i can barely read anything here omg </3 but i loved your latests work, vamp riwoo especially... wow. happy november btw !!! i also find nnn super funny for some reason, how do you think the bonedo legal line would be like during nnn? :p

— 🐈‍⬛

🪼- oh i feel u, it's been kinda crazy lately (ᵕ—ᴗ—) thank u so much!!! im so glad u liked vamp!riwoo. as a riwoo fangs enthusiast i Had to do it. it's so funny bc cherry literally was just talking abt how she wants to do a post abt bnd doing nnn and then we saw this 😭

🍒 - im so sorry for letting this rot for so long 😭 i will try my best to explain so. it's so funny cuz i literally talked about it with ki right before we got the ask! great minds think alike☺️

warnings: SMUT [MDNI!!!], hc format, mentions of oral (f. rec), light mentions of bondage (kinda), cocky taesan & leehan lolol

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ sungho

give it a week until he falls down on his knees (quite literally). you just look so beautiful how could he NOT want to eat you out on the spot? (of course, you never wanted to admit to yourself that you badly needed it too) but knowing how obsessed he is, seeing you dressed up... you should've known the night would end with him in between your legs.

↘ rest under read more !

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ riwoo

i give it two weeks until he's way too horny and is begging you to touch him. while you refuse because you enjoy teasing him so much. he was so confident about making it through the whole month. now he's laying on the bed, tied up, waiting for you to touch him :( and how could you deny him when he whines so prettily for you?

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ jaehyun

poor guy wouldn't even last 5 seconds. :( he's so obsessed with you. he's like a victorian man seeing a woman's ankle for the first time when he sees you. doesn't matter what you're doing or how you look or how long you've been together or how often he gets to touch you. he's begging you to let him touch you, even though you both decided together to participate. you should have known neither of you were gonna last. you can't get enough of each other.

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ taesan

either two seconds or he's pulling it through, no in between. you two make it like a competition to see who'll last longer. he gets needy like halfway through but he will never admit it to himself, he's so annoyingly overconfident. and he would rather die than lose to you. so he teases you until you're the one begging for him then teases you for not being able to last. like he wasn't purposely putting his hands on your tits or making you sit on his lap...

⋆. 𐙚 ˚ leehan

3 weeks until he gives in. when you tell him that you want to participate he's like "you sure you can live without my cock for a whole month?". you decide to teach his cocky attitude a lesson and you try everything to rile him up. (which really isn't difficult to do.) "you're doing that on purpose, aren't you?" what, you? never! "what do you mean? i haven't done anything." you bat your eyes at him, feigning innocence. he grabs you by your waist. "just say you want me too, and I'll give it to you" but you will not give him the satisfaction, you refuse to lose against leehan's charm. no matter how tempting it is. "i don't need anything, but it seems like you're the one who can't keep his dick inside of his pants. you just need to say that i won." is all you say and he decides he needs to fuck that smirk off your face.

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justevelynnnn · 3 days ago

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Magic🍃

Summary: Scott has a headache so you offer him something w/ “magic” to help

Content: Scott summers x Mutant!Fem Reader

Warnings: mentioning of weed infused brownies and them being consumed & a couple of swears…

A/N: I got this idea from somewhere but I can’t remember where…it was on here actually and I was like omg I have to write this ! Ugh I love him so much….

You and Rogue made “brownies” while everyone was gone earlier. Gambit also tried to help but kept messing up so Rogue kicked him out however, he was invited to try a piece still when they were done. It was you three’s secret even though Xavier himself literally already knew, he just didn’t say anything. As long as you guys were responsible he supposed.

But it was others you worried about. Like Wolverine who probably would huff them up in minutes or Beast who’d lecture you for hours about the negative effects. Or…Scott.

The leader made it clear he was a by the book guy. Neat, serious, a rule follower ….whatever. Point was, he didn’t play games. So recreational usage ? Yeah, no. Nope.

You hide the rest in the oven since no one really cooked in there anyways and went back outside. Rogue and Gambit went off somewhere and you wanted to enjoy some outdoor air while these brownies kick in. You spent alot of time out there especially as a result of your mutation. Your powers allowed you to control all things nature. You could move water at will, control wind (but not as good as storm can), grow plants quickly and more. You loved all things nature related especially things you can use in your day to day life like herbal medicines. Or growing tea leaves to drink or even coffee beans.

You were also really into growing weed.

You knew not to get too high especially when important missions were coming up or when you knew a meeting would take place later on so only during your guaranteed free time did you try anything. Rogue caught you once but was really chill about it so now sometimes she gets high with you. But no one else. It was risky doing it but it really helped calm your nerves. Plus, Logan smoked and drank all day long so was it really that bad?

Once outside though, you see your beloved leader sitting on a bench with his head in his hands. He’s muttering something odd. Concerned, you go over to him. Maybe it’s because off the edible that he seems this way? He’s mumbling gibberish. His energy is off. Really off. You just hope that he can’t see how there’s a tint of red in your eyes.

“Hey…Scott? Youuuu okay?” you ask. You lift a hand to touch him but he suddenly looks up at you a bit, startled like he didn’t hear you approaching, which caused you to bring your hand back quickly.

“M’fine.” He says, almost in a groan. He puts his head back down and asks, “Did you need anything?”

“No..just…checking in you?” You don’t know why it came out as a question.

He says nothing.

It’s awkward for a second or two as you just stand there. It hits you that this may be one of his headache episodes Jean told you about. You felt bad for him. You wanted to stay but you get the feeling he wants you to fuck off.

He just groans again, probably in annoyance that you’re still here. It was very unlike him to act like this. This is the first time you’ve seen him in such a, pained, awkward state.

It hurt even more because he was secretly your..crush? You guess that’s the best way to describe it. It wasn’t crazy. Maybe you just admired him a lot as a strong leader. Maybe it was his good looks…. maybe. You just hoped it was a phase. It didn’t help him and Jean have a complicated relationship thing going on that he seemed more attentive to rather than looking for someone new to replace her.

You get an idea. It may be crazy but you didn’t know what else to do. Plus, you were a bit high so your decision making was a bit wonky. You rush inside the mansion and b line to the oven. You grab half a brownie and a bottle of water from the fridge. As you walk back outside you see Scott’s hands caught in his hair. It definitely seems like he’s getting worse. You hoped he accept this and not scold you and kick you off the freaking team or something.

“Hey…um, I brought you something…” You say, sitting next to him.

He lifts his head again and looks in your hands. “Water and….a brownie…?”

He says it low, like he almost was thinking out loud. He’s clearly confused.

“It..um..it has something in it that I think will help you…”

His hands are in his lap now and he’s just staring at you. His gaze feels strong for some reason even though he has the visor on.

He looks back in your hand and gently takes the brownie from you. You watch him slowly take a bite of the brownie, almost like he’s skeptical.. or maybe he is.

“It’s good, but how will this help?” Scott looks back at the ground as he finished the brownie. You almost feel guilty. You play with the bottle in your hand nervously as you think on whether you want to tell him or not. You’re scared of the possibility of him lashing out that you just secretly fed him cannabis.

It’s a couple of seconds before you answer. “They’re justtt, special.”

“Special how?”

“There’s something inside that will help you relax….”

Silence.

“….But, how?”

The question come out a bit sharp, you assume he wants a straight answer but also wonder how he can’t get the hint or has no idea seemingly. You can’t blame him though, why would he suspect a team member to be in possession of weed?

You sigh as you prepare for the worst.

“They have… weed inside.”

Scott slowly turns his head at you. He’s smiling weird. You accidentally clench the water bottle and out the corner of your eye you see some plants move around you two.

“…..What.”

You just stare nervously at his blank smile. You can’t ever really read him or his expressions sometimes but he’s definitely annoyed. Probably mad. Hopefully not furious. Definitely not happy.

It spills out of you. “I’m…I’m so sorry! I just wanted to help you and I know you hate weed and drugs and all that stuff but you looked like you were in so much pain and I just wanted to help and I know I might get kicked off the team but-”

“Hey.”

You stop. You feel a tear slipping from your eye.

“It’s okay.”

Your mouth drops. “W-what?”

“It’s fine. It’s not posion.”

You’re still frozen as Scott grabs the bottle. He’s…okay? Maybe you had too much of the brownies earlier….

“You’re…okay..? But, you hate weed! You said you-”

“I know.” He takes a weirdly large gulp of water. “But you had good intentions. So it’s fine.”

You’re still in shock from his nonchalance. Maybe he’s gonna yell later. Maybe he didn’t really understand that you just gave him a drug that he’s made so clear in the past that he hates.

He finished the water bottle quickly and just lazily throws it behind him. Okay, this may not be Scott. This might be Mystique. Or you’re hallucinating.

“Are you sure you’re okay? Or even, Scott…?”

He laughs at this but quickly winces. “Yes, I’m Scott. It’s just my head is making it hard to care about much right now.”

“Soooo, I’m not in trouble?”

“Professor knows about your sneaky behaviors already, y/n. Did you forget he can read minds? See through walls?” Shit.

You look down sighing. “Nothing gets past him. Seriously.”

“Nope.” Scott leans back on his hands. “But since he’s okay with it, so am I. Plus, Rogue told me last week.”

“Ughhhhh!” Embarrassed you put your head in your hands. Or course, Xavier & Scott knew. How could you be so dumb?

“So, when do these kick in? Sure could use it right now….” Scott looks at you smiling again. He’s amused at your embarrassment.

“It takes awhile…maybe another 40 minutes…?” You say looking away. You can’t look him in the eyes or, well, eye right now.

He laughs again. He believes it’s a placebo that’s making it seem like his headache is fading already because normally he wouldn’t be able to even move right now.

“Y’know…you’re kinda cute flustered..”

He says it so quiet you almost don’t hear it. Shocked you look back at him.

“What? Cute?”

He just nods and goes back to looking ahead at the garden in front of you two. Still shocked you just stare at him for a bit and then look at your feet. Your heart is beating quicker now and okay, why is your face heating up? You’re starting to think this is more than just a crush at this point. Not when everything he does make you feel like this.

You two sit and enjoy the sunset in silence as Scott noticeably relaxes more and more. It was only about 3mg so he shouldn’t be too affected. Just enough. He’s slouched on the bench now, it’s honestly a very rare sight to see him slouched…well, anywhere. He’s smiling at nothing again. You look at him as you literally watch him enjoy his first high. His red visor of course hides his eyes but you imagine they’re red now like yours. Deep down you’re just glad you could help him and his pain ease. And you’re a lot happy that you’re not getting expelled from the school.

Flowers grow at your feet as you just stare at him, heart fluttering. The soft warm light shined on his blissed out face, making him glow beautifully. You notice his relaxed strong arms and his soft pink lips and now tinted pink cheeks. He turns his head slowly to you like earlier except more relaxed. His dorky smile in full view now makes your heart skip a beat and you face heats up more. The flowers grow taller and there’s a slight breeze.

“Y’knowwww? You’re reallyyyy pretty…and kind….i like you, y/n…” He says it slow with that same smile.

You struggle to respond with anything more than, “Thanks, Scott…” because oh my god?!? Holy shit?? Scott Summers just said he thinks you’re pretty. This evening couldn’t get anymore magical.

You spent the rest of the evening watching the sunset with him as he laid a head on your shoulder. High Scott was quiet but definitely more laid back and more open. You enjoyed it a lot. And when it got fully dark you helped guide him back inside just to sit on the couch and enjoy each others company once more.

#scott summers xmen #scott summers x reader #scott summers imagines #xmen #xmen scott #scott summers #cyclops x men #cyclops #cyclops imagine #x men cyclops #i love him #I need to be his wife

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breakyourrxles · 2 days ago

Text

❥between two breaths (m) | 𝟝

𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐚𝐥

↳ Riding high on the exuberance of a successful debut, your guard falls for only a moment... Unfortunately, that is just enough time for you to be found out.

kim sunwoo x fem!reader (side lee juyeon x reader) — idol!sunwoo, fan/trainee!reader. forced proximity, forbidden love, friends to lovers, angst, slow burn, idolverse-typical themes regarding; dating, image, public perception, etc. happy ending, plot-heavy!! reader thinks she's nonchalant about it but she rly isn't. smut. [5,0k wc ongoing] cws: heavy themes of wanting-but-can't-having, mild jealousy, explicit sexual content, a little alcohol consumption, dancing on the edge of career suicide, poor decision making because of The Wanting.

❥ masterlist | ao3

"Do you remember the first time we held hands?"

Tickets for the MVNE debut showcase sold out quickly, and while it is the ideal situation, you could not help but notice the evident shock held in the reactions from the staff and managers who work closely to you.

In all fairness, you and the girls had been rather surprised by it too. Nara sat glued to her phone on the morning of release, constantly cycling between various social media platforms, the ticketing page, and media outlets. Silent, curious; a little apprehensive about what the result of this could mean for the immediate future of the group as a whole.

When it was all said and done, she huffed out a sigh of relief and without so much as a word, stuffed her phone into her bag and finished preparations for leaving the dorm that day.

Now, the showcase day has come.

From backstage you can hear the ambient sounds of people filing into the venue to find their seats. It's difficult to make sense of who the majority of voices are coming from; do men prefer MVNE? Do women? What is your fanbase from the beginning going to be like? What are they expecting based off of debut album teaser photos and soundbites? Based off of introduction footage and a single photoshoot done with your labelmates.

There is a lot that lingers on your mind, but today is hardly the day to be able to grant most of it much attention.

Sunwoo has sent you congratulations and good luck, but you've not yet found the time to respond despite the fact that your phone has remained close to you. Rather, you are perfectly capable of carving out the time necessary for doing so, but responses from you beget further messages received from him, and to put it plainly; you have been dodging him ever since.

You and the girls stand together in the wings while stylists hover around and make finishing touches to hair, make-up and outfits. Woori gives a wonderfully eloquent pep talk about how all of you have worked so incredibly hard for—and are unwaveringly deserving of—this moment right here. Miyoung nearly cries and Woori begs her not to because they don't have the kind of time now for the stylists to fix that kind of disaster scenario, but all-in-all; spirits are high and smiles are wide amongst all of you. The time spent getting here has been shorter than for most, and in ways, this terrifies you just that much more.

What if you're not ready? What if speedrunning debut will be the downfall of everyone?

The lights dim, and Jaehyun comes around from his own green room down the hall. Greetings are exchanged and you cannot help but be moderately thankful for him being chosen as the MC for the event, when there are other, more troublesome options.

You can't dodge Sunwoo forever, nor do you want to. Right now, there is far too much going on in your life for you to be especially fussed over a kiss that really never should have happened at all. The conversation weighs even heavier in the background of your thoughts, and when your brain is not bombarded by the incessant requirements of choreography and line distribution, one of many lines said by him always seems to find a way to claw itself back up to the forefront of everything.

Sunwoo can wait, and he can be dealt with at a later time when the whirlwind experience of being a freshly debuted idol group has died down just a bit. He isn't going anywhere, and hopefully, he'll be just a little bit more understanding of it than what you are, perhaps, even particularly deserving of.

The crowd cheers, the backtrack starts filtering in through the speakers, and one staff member loudly shouts that it is time.

Looking into the reflection of the elevator mirror, you're a little perplexed by what stares back at you.

To say that you do not recognize yourself would, of course, be a great exaggeration, but you suppose that in the days since the official debut of MVNE, you have begun to feel fragmented in ways that have previously been unknown to you.

Knowing yourself has always been a relatively simple task, but now, more than one version of you seems to exist. There is the version of yourself that the company hopes to fine-tune and perfectly craft for the consumption of the masses, and as a result of that, an absolutely incomprehensible amount of versions splinter off in how any one individual person seems to receive it. Suppose that this sort of dichotomy stands in life altogether; the you that you understand yourself to be and the you that the people around you take it as; only now, the scale is far grander, and the footing you once felt you had on all of this feels just a little bit less stable than what you are accustomed to.

At least your outfit looks nice.

Beside you, Woori pays no attention to her own appearance as the elevator continues to climb up towards the destination. Lost in thoughts of her own from what you can tell, with much more on her plate of responsibilities than the rest of you may ever truly come to understand. Still, she is doing well and you are more than proud of her, and at the risk of her own anxieties souring the mood of what is meant to be a fun and joyous evening, you take it upon yourself to shatter the silence.

"Tonight is going to be good," you say. "For just a few hours, we can leave everything else at the door."

Woori turns to look at you, and though there is a smile pulling at her lips, it's easy enough to see that it is at least somewhat forced.

"I don't know if I can ever really leave it all at the door. Not for a long, long time."

"You should talk to Sangyeon more. Your position is a stressful one, you don't have to do it all alone."

Though there is obvious apprehension in her acceptance of those words, Woori nods just slightly and says, "Yeah, I know you're right." Her smile grows into something more genuine then, and with a soft cock of her head she changes the subject to say, "You look nice, not that that's anything out of the ordinary. Trying to impress somebody tonight?"

You wish to tell yourself that you've not given the previous circumstances any thought whatsoever, but that would be a lie and you are in no such position to begin trying to make yourself believe things that you know to be untrue. The debut showcase has been days past already, the reception has been good, and outside of hefty schedules and a grueling attention to the way that you present to any and everyone at all times, there really is only one thing on your mind.

And you can't ignore him forever.

"No, I didn't even know they would be here." A lie, albeit not one intended to delude yourself. "What is with you always thinking I have some ulterior motive to everything?" you joke.

Shrugging, Woori's hands come up into the air as if to express some sign of submission to the questioning. "Not at all! The two of you are just friends! Which means…" A hand comes up to thoughtfully pinch at her chin, and then she says, "Perhaps someone else is on the table, then."

"There's no table!"

"So you've never thought about it? Not even once?"

This question catches you completely off guard, especially due to the seriousness in Woori's tone when she offers it to you. The comical ambiance of the conversation has now fallen aside in favor of something much more intimate and much more real in ways that you had not been ready for, and as a result, you are wholly incapable of dialing back the way in which it makes you reel.

Silence coats the air, your breath caught in your throat and heart racing at the implications of what your leader is asking you. There is no togetherness or bond established in lying, but the fear of what the truth may unearth between you frightens you into a state of quiet shock.

The elevator slows to a stop, a loud beep follows it, and before you have a chance to say anything Woori takes your hand and guides you out towards the celebration.

It is all far more involved than you expected, if you're being honest.

For as far as your eye can see, people from the company, shareholders, and other big monetary players are dressed in expensive suits and smiling ear-to-ear at the conversations of success that surely must be happening. For the most part, you are lucky to be excluded from them all, though it does make the fact of the matter that much more apparent to you.

Within it, is something that you have always known: that you as a person—as an idol—are far and away the least important piece of this entire puzzle to them. You are little more than a tiny, moving part within a grander scheme of something far greater than yourself. Many of these people do not consider you, nor any of the other members, an integral part of making this what it has become. A tiny screw tasked with holding the entire machine together, but easily replicated and replaced should you find yourself coming undone.

There exists many of "you," but far less of them. A finite resource of people capable of assembling that which you have become a part of.

For the most part, you have made peace with this fact already, and long before the day of debut came. Suppose that you have to, because fighting this machine is a losing battle, and far more often than not it is defeat waiting on the other side. Still, there is only so much solace to find.

The people that bother to take the time to converse with you are nice enough and pleasant to engage in simple, brief discussions with. Some ask your name, because they do not know it despite dumping incomprehensible amounts of money into the project. Some question your position, or even ask about the friends and family that you have forgone seeing in the countless days leading up to this; seemingly none the wiser about the effort and loss someone must suffer to ever see that day on the stage.

They mean well, and you have little other option than to carefully take your leave and find solace in the only two glasses of champagne you are allowed to have tonight.

At the hired bar, you down the final, hefty sip of your drink and set the glass down atop it a little bit harder than you had intended to. Your frustration at all of this creeps out minutely in small gestures and perfectly maneuvered eye-rolls so that the people they are intended for do not actually see them. Perhaps, after everything, you're getting quite good at this acting thing.

"You can't dodge me forever, you know."

The presence of another person comes unexpectedly, and your reaction tells the very same tale. You recoil, head snapping around to the direction from which it has come, but before you're able to fully make the turn, he is already circling around to settle just in front of you.

Sunwoo says, "Not very good with answering your phone nowadays, are you?"

"I'm a bit wrapped up, maybe you remember? Or has the cushy life of an idol well into his years eroded your ability to?"

Eyes narrowing, Sunwoo looks at you like he is trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind the words, as if he does not fully believe that what you are saying is precisely what you are intended to convey. Unfortunate for you, his innate ability to see straight through you.

"Let's go outside," he says, "It smells like every single luxury fragrance ever made all at the same time and if I have to have another conversation about some up and coming ad campaign somebody wants me to do I might just flush my head down the toilet."

Reluctant to follow, you do so with little argument otherwise. Thankfully, the outdoor balcony on the conference room floor is boxed in and heated, though seemingly hardly used by the attendees here tonight.

Sunwoo leads the way, and though the two of you pass by a few forgotten glasses and discarded cigarette butts, signs of life are hard to come by. It isn't especially out of the way from where the remainder of the party is taking place, and though it is far from ideal that you be seen wandering off with him, the people littering the floor are amongst the safest to ever catch wind of it now.

He seems wholly unbothered by the entire thing, and unsurprisingly so.

From this vantage point, the Seoul cityscape below is stunning. Both of you stop for just a moment to take it in, gazing down at how bright and small everything looks from where you stand now. Compact yet grand simultaneously in ways that you cannot quite seem to fathom the intricacies of.

Then, Sunwoo turns his sights back to you.

His suit is nice, and for once, he is wearing clothes that actually fit him. The same person more often than not found in oversized hoodies and baggy pants now dressed in ways that are far more familiar to you as an idol, rather than a friend. It feels a little surreal to look at him now, and that feeling is driven home just that much more once you rationalize the fact that he is here tonight to celebrate you.

"So," Sunwoo says, "you've been ignoring me."

"I wouldn't say that."

"Well, I would! What else would you call it when I send you twelve text messages over the span of a week and you barely reply to any of them?"

You feign a look of thoughtfulness, as if genuinely considering your next line of attack and then say, "I would say that I'm not ignoring you, because I'm replying! Sometimes."

His eyes roll and he huffs out a labored, somewhat annoyed sigh. "Seriously?"

In all honesty, this is a conversation that you wishfully had hoped to avoid all the while knowing full well that you would not be able to. Not if you intend to keep your friendship with him intact, at least. Thus, with Sunwoo's annoyance evident, you relent to his questioning and give up the fight.

"You know…" you begin, but nothing more follows it for far too many moments. There are many things that you could say; so many things that linger just at the precipice of your thoughts that could so easily mend the most pressing issue that stands between the two of you now. The fact that this—whatever this even is—can't continue forward in the ways that have already begun to blossom. There are easy ways, succinct ways to end this, to put a nail in the coffin of any hope that may be creeping its way inside of what has always been, and always should be, nothing more than a friendship.

And yet they all sit on your tongue, unable to fully come to fruition in the ways that your mind desperately urges them to.

You swallow them all down—tasteless and soon to be forgotten—and simply say: "We shouldn't."

Leaning against the glass encasement with his shoulder and arms crossed over himself, that choice of words appears to amuse Sunwoo because all he says in response is a simple repetition of the word "shouldn't."

Your strength to remain firm in that is quickly dissolving, and with remarkably little insisting from the man standing in front of you, too. It is a rather fast realization that you come to as both of your eyes meet and a single corner of his lips twists up into a sly smirk, that you are not wholly equipped to stand strong in this demand; because it is not a demand, and against your desire to do so, you do not even fully believe yourself, either.

It takes effort to steady your breathing as anxiousness filters up and through your form. Your heartbeat quickens the longer you look at him, and it doesn't take long for you to recognize that look that's seated deep in his eyes.

"Shouldn't," Sunwoo says again, this time accompanied by his arms dropping, and one hand reaching forward to find your own. "Or can't?"

The temperature inside of the outdoor enclosure is regulated, but it is cold outside, and you anticipate his touch to feel ice cold as a result. Quite the contrary, however; Sunwoo's hand is warm compared to your own and easy to get lost in despite being offered so little of it. Your mind swims with the question, the simplicity of it and how easy it can all be should you find the courage to put an end to this game once and for all.

You don't even notice how smoothly he pulls your body closer to his, and once you do, all you can think about is how easy it can be to once again get away with this.

"Do you remember the first time we held hands?"

Sunwoo brings your hands up together so that the both of you can see them, then gently folds your fingers together in ways that you have many times before. The feeling is familiar, yet foreign; revisited in a way that makes it previously unexplored.

"Of course I do," you say. "My first fansign. I was so nervous, Kevin made fun of me."

"I know, I remember." Sunwoo smiles as he recalls the memory, then says, "When we finished they kept teasing me about the cute girl who was my fan, how I always get the fans who look like they might throw up, which isn't entirely untrue. Apparently I'm intense."

"Do you think it might have anything to do with your willingness to treat every single one of them like they are your real, actual girlfriend?"

Glancing up for only a second, Sunwoo thinks the question over but ultimately decides on a lackadaisical reply of "perhaps."

"Point is," he says, gripping your hand more tightly and continuing to pull your body towards his own. "I remember, too. I remember a lot of firsts between us; first fansign, first ad campaign, first time I slipped you my number at a fansign… as well as the second, third and fourth times because you never actually called or messaged me before the fifth…"

You remember it all just as well, and though you are intent on paying attention to the recollection of events, the feeling of his second hand sliding up to find purchase at your waist becomes unbearably distracting the moment it finds you. Your breath catches in your throat, heart racing as you attempt to find your proverbial footing within the whirlwind of happenings taking place around you. He pulls you in further—against him—the hand once held in his being guided to snake around his back and before you even have a chance to correct the action, you find yourself falling into the behavior with shameful, unprecedented ease.

"So, shouldn't, or can't?"

The question is repeated in quiet words ghosted across your lips, and Sunwoo lingers in the barely-there space to await your reply. You know the right answer, you know perfectly well what the right choice is, but with every passing day that you have been forced to see him, forced to engage with him, forced to pretend that none of this is precisely the thing that so many of your peers fear that it might be; you cannot help but feel the selfish urge to indulge in precisely the thing that you know you should not.

Concepts of should not and cannot occupy so much of the very same space, you come to discover.

Once the seal is broken, it is so easy to fall back in. Sunwoo kisses you with the kind of apprehension that only a person anticipating rejection truly can, and your only answer to it is to offer him no such thing. Your free hand finds its way upwards to settle on his shoulder, and almost immediately does his unease fall away. Melting into this despite all warnings telling you that you shouldn't, your body utterly betrays any hope of being firm in that resolve. The hand at the back of his neck holds him firmer into you, his hand at your waist snakes around to the small of your back; realistically, this won't go any further and logistically it can't, but the consideration of even that much sends something of a worrying chill straight up your spine.

It's just so, so easy.

You wonder how realistic it could be—in theory—to throw all caution to the wind and allow this to be the thing that it now feels as though it was always meant to be. Yes, you have thought about it, and yes, you have done everything in your power to put those inclinations completely out of your mind. It was never a reasonable, realistic possibility. A whimsical idea that could be tucked into a box and forgotten about with little more consideration spent towards it.

Much of your life now is spent within a balancing act of making sense of oppositional components, with this being no different. The incredible spectrum of will-they and won't-they, with your sanity hanging somewhere in between.

The remainder of your anxiety regarding all of this falls away in favor of simply melting further into him, and you consider one of the most harrowing thoughts of all: If Sunwoo is undeterred by the potential outcome of this, then why should you be?

And then, you are reminded why.

Closer to the door back inside, the sound of someone loudly clearing their voice booms like an alarm to your ears. Immediately, you push yourself away from Sunwoo and fully out of his grasp even though the damage has already long since done. There is nothing to hide and no one to fool, as far as the three of you now stand to be concerned.

Wiping the corner of your mouth gently, you look down at the light smearing of colored gloss that now smears across the back of your hand.

"Well, can't say I'm surprised," Woori says. Her voice is stern and faintly disappointed, though her facial expression gives little away as to what else she may be thinking of feeling upon the discovery. "I'd be lying if I didn't say I was hoping we'd have been a bit further into our careers, though."

"It's really not what it looks—"

Woori snorts a laugh that cuts off your insistence midway and says, "That's going to be a very hard sell, based on what I just saw."

Silence sweeps the balcony, your eyes draw from her and up to Sunwoo, who has nothing more to add to the conversation taking place. A part of you wants nothing more than for him to find some way to absolve the both of you of the consequences from this, but logically speaking, you are well aware that this is far from anything that he has the power to rescue you from.

This is between you and MVNE.

But rather than engage further, Woori turns and takes her exit from the shared space, leaving only you and the problem that you have done little to attempt to rectify.

As the party begins to die down, you ensure that you and Sunwoo are not to be seen on the same side of the room, much less in each other's more localized vicinity. Some of the other girls find you throughout the night with laughs shared and stories told; no implications that the knowledge your leader has discovered earlier has drifted down throughout the creek. You keep waiting for it, waiting for the moment that a suspicious eye will catch your own, or a pointed joke will leave the lips of someone that you wish not to have the ability to make it and yet… it never comes.

With a stomach full of knots and a third drink stolen, you check the time and the recollection of all of the schedules that MVNE has throughout the next day comes flooding back to you. It's going to be a rough one, the girls will all be tired and have to put on their best performances in so many ways. No time for naps, no understanding from anyone that you had a late night and so you might not be as spry as everyone would hope for. These are not options for you; show up as the exact version that everyone is expecting to see, and do it every single time.

Things will only get harder from here.

You glance around the hall and near the exit, you catch eyes with Woori once again. She nods for you to go to her—much to your surprise—and though you tell yourself that it is in an effort to wrangle the girls for going home, your hopes are swiftly dashed by how quickly she makes her way through the doors. Waiting for you to follow, and no sign from the others.

Once down in the lobby, nobody else is there to greet you. It is only you and the woman who now knows the one thing that you had hoped that no one would ever be able to know, the one secret that you desperately needed to keep secure no matter what.

She stands there on the freshly buffed marble under dim lighting with her back turned towards you, staring out of one of the massive windowed walls that leads towards the street. It's still early enough that plenty of people are making their way to and from places, and though there is nothing to bar anyone from looking inside, MVNE's popularity is not yet that of a group that needs to concern themselves with the privacy of various passersby.

To speak first is to surrender, you think to yourself, and as a result of it you do not say a word. Woori knows she is no longer alone here and is likely gathering her thoughts to best convey the many emotions she is experiencing in such a short time. It is a lot for her to shoulder, a lot of extra potential problems and damage control for her to manage in the event that things spiral out of control in some way. For all intents and purposes, she must assume the worst; that this has been going on for a long time, that you have always been lying about him and your intentions, and that MVNE really has always been merely a means to an end, after all.

You watch Woori turn towards you with a shocking amount of spring to her movement, and even more to your surprise: there is a smile waiting there for you.

"It's not great timing."

There's a hint of humor to her voice that you're not anticipating at all, and though your throat is dry and your heart has leapt up to reside somewhere within it—at the very least—it does a miniscule job of taking the edge off.

"I didn't…" you start to say, and then realize that you are now forced into a position where you have a final decision to make. Either you keep lying despite what she has seen, and what you cannot promise will not occur again in the future, or you finally confess your truth and lay it all out on the table for her to finally have the option to work with.

Figure, eventually, you are simply going to have to start trusting her to make the right choice. Not only for the group, but for you individually, as well.

And so, you swallow down whatever lie you had originally intended to tell her, inhale a breath long and deep, and then say, "It hasn't always been like this."

"Well, I should hope not," Woori says. "Wouldn't be a particularly good impression of him if it was."

"What I mean is…" You close your eyes, gather yourself and your courage the best that you can in an effort to finally go through with this. "We've been friends for a while. Before I was a trainee. We had already been meeting privately as friends. Nothing more. I really need you to understand that it was never like this before."

The surprise on Woori's face is now evident despite her usual unwillingness to show any such thing. Her eyes never leave you as she takes the information in and processes it to the best of her ability, as if scanning you for any hint of deception that you cannot blame her for being in search of.

Eventually, she says, "What changed?"

A question that even you have spent time mulling over, now humorously presented to you as if you are somehow meant to have the answer to it. You shrug, offer a half-hearted laugh and simply say, "I don't know. Proximity, I guess."

Woori does not respond to that immediately, and instead allows a few moments of silence to hang over the two of you instead. The worried beat of your heart being the only thing you can hear ringing through your ears.

"Is this… going to be a thing, then?" Woori asks, slow and calculated in her delivery of it. "Is this going to keep happening? Is it going to… become more than whatever it already is?"

You believe it wholeheartedly when you answer her, because this has already become so much more than what it was ever meant to be and the thought of weathering anything additional makes your stomach twist with a kind of harrowing discomfort that you cannot imagine bearing the feeling of forever.

"No. No, it's not."

And you mean it.

#sunwoo smut #tbz smut #the boyz smut #sunwoo x reader #sunwoo imagines #sunwoo scenarios #tbz x reader #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #the boyz x reader #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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howlingday · 1 day ago

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hey, remember my accidental villain jaune au? the one where he was a shonen anime villain and pyrrha was the hero but jaune had no idea what was going on actually? I'm curious what a scene of that would look like written by you. would you mind giving us a taste?

Hm... I guess I can give it a shot. Show you how I'd make this series if I thought of it.

--------------------------------------------------

"So, uh, what's your name?"

"My name?" He chuckled. "What is a name when the deed is more worth remembering?" Jaune had practiced this line time and time again. His weeks in drama club, acting classes, and practicing in front of the mirror made certain his performance was perfect. Maybe if this girl was really impressed, she'd want to hang out with him more.

"Uh, yeah, I guess?" She giggled. "So you want to be remembered as Vomit Boy for the rest of the school-year?"

ABORT! ABORT! ABORT! THE MISSION HAS FAILED! NEW MISSION OBJECTIVE: DON'T CRY IN FRONT OF THE COOL GIRL!

"Ah... No..." Jaune felt his body go rigid. His face must've been beet-red from this embarrassment. "Uh, my name is Jaune. Jaune Arc." He lifted his shaking fingers and shifted them into shaking finger-guns. "Sh-Short, sweet, and rolls off the tongue. The- The ladies l-love it~!"

She snorted. "Do they really?"

"Uh... They do. Or, they will..." Jaune could just die.

"Well, I'm Ruby. Ruby Rose." She raised her fingers into less shaky finger-guns. "And I'm also a Shadow Masque fan~!"

"Oh, that's good..."

"What were you trying to accomplish by doing that, anyways?"

"I was... trying to look in front of you."

"Aw... You don't have to do that." Ruby put a hand on his shoulder.

"I don't?" Jaune replied, hope brewing in his eyes.

"You already threw up on my sister's shoe. There's no coming back from that." Jaune slumped forward, exhausted. As he did, a thin slab of metal wobbled from his side. "Hey, what's that?"

"What's what?" Jaune looked up, noticing Ruby eyeing his weapon. "Oh! This is my sword." He clicked it open, extending the sides into a kite shield. "Oh, and uh, shield, too."

"Wow..." Ruby gazed in awe. "It's so retro!"

"Yeah, I borrowed it from my-" Jaune blinked. "Ret- Retro?"

"Yeah, you don't see a lot of classic weapons these days."

"W-Well, it's not that retro!" Jaune clicked his shield, compacting it into a sheath. "See?! It's easier to carry now!"

"But wouldn't it still be just as heavy?"

"Y... Yeah..." She giggled. "Well, what makes your weapon so state-of-the-art?"

"Well, I wouldn't call her state-of-the-art, but..." Ruby whipped out her weapon, as Jaune watched helplessly as it mecha-shifted into a massive scythe almost twice his size! "...Crescent Rose gets the job done~."

Jaune fell to his knees. He was going to throw up. He was going to throw up right here, in front of this younger student with the cooler weapon than he could have ever dreamed of. He could honestly cry if not for one thing he still had on his side... IMPROV!

He chuckled. "An impressive class of weapon, Miss Rose~." She blushed. "I look forward to seeing her in action." He leaned in close. "And yourself, too~."

"Oh, stop~!" She squirmed at the compliment. There was an announcement on the PA system. She shook her thoughts clear. "Uh, we should probably make our way to the auditorium, right?"

"Yeah, we should." Jaune dropped the act, regaining his composure. "Uh, lead the way!"

"I thought you were leading the way?" Ruby asked. The two stared at one another before they both slumped with a sigh. "Let's find a map."

--------------------------------------------------

"Why, hello there, my dears~."

"Huh?"

"Hello~!"

"I couldn't help but overhear you two talking about forming a team." Jaune smiled a devilish smile. "May I perhaps join you in this endeavor?"

"The only endeavor is listening to you talk." The young woman in white muttered under her breath.

"Well, I think I'd rather just let fate decide who's on what team." The young woman in bronze answered.

"You mean the same fate that brought me to you?" He gave a bow, his hand crossing over her chest as he dipped low, not looking up once. "Jaune Arc, future huntsman."

"My, aren't you confident?"

"Too confident." Weiss huffed. "Jaune, is it?"

"It is." He looked up, offering his hand to her, palm up. "And you are~?"

"Annoyed, actually." She said with flared nostrils. "But if you must know my name, it's Weiss Schnee." She gestured to her friend. "And do you know her name?"

"No, but I would like to~." The unknown girl giggled at his words, while Weiss only got angrier.

"Oh, stop~!"

"Yes, please, stop! This is Pyrrha Nikos!"

"A pleasure, Miss Nikos."

"Please, call me Pyrrha!"

"I'm sorry, I don't think you heard me." Weiss retracted. "This is THE Pyrrha Nikos!"

"The one and only, of course." Jaune kept laying on the charm, making her blush. It quickly stopped when Weiss grabbed his nose and tugged it down. "OW!"

"Pyrrha Nikos! Regional Champion of Mistral! Top graduate of Sanctum! THAT Pyrrha Nikos!"

Jaune stepped back, rubbing his nose. "Uh... Sorry. None of that rings a bell. Should I know you?"

"Have you been living under a rock?!" Weiss nearly screeched. "She's on the face of Pumpkin Pete's Marshmallow Flakes!" Jaune gasped, and Weiss let out a sigh of exasperation. "Finally..."

"Oh, that was you! I thought you looked familiar!" Jaune lifted his chest-plate to reveal the bunny hoodie beneath. "I ate, like, fifty boxes to get this thing!"

"Oh, I... bet they were scrumptious..."

"Not really." Jaune admitted, bringing his armor down. "They tasted like cardboard to be honest."

"Yeah, they did..." Pyrrha reminisced on less happy days.

"Well, Pyrrha," Jaune offered his hand to her, "I'd be more than happy to see a woman of your skill on my team."

"How about a demonstration?" Weiss asked, looking to Weiss. She nodded to Jaune, and the celebrity sighed.

"I'm really sorry about this." Pyrrha said as she stood up.

"Sorry about WHOA!" Jaune was now pinned to the wall of the locker-room, held aloft by Pyrrha's spear. She reached up and yanked it out, apologizing as she passed.

"So, this is Dork Masque, huh?" A girl asked as she passed by, Ruby close behind.

"Don't be mean, Yang!" She looked back to Jaune. "Uh, see you later, Jaune."

He sighed. "Yeah... See ya."

He stood up and brushed himself off. Reaching behind him, he felt the hole in the hood of his one victory in life. He took a deep breath and shuffled to the exit as he sighed. Hopefully there won't be worse understanding like this. Thinking back on it, though, this dark persona he'd fashioned from Dark Masque seemed to be working. Maybe he could play around with it for just a little bit longer. He'd have to come up with a cooler name, though. Something like...

DARK ARC

...except, y'know, less lame.

#rwby #accidental villain jaune au #accidental villain jaune #jaune arc #weiss schnee #ruby rose #yang xiao long #pyrrha nikos

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growth-opportunities · 16 hours ago

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casting a spell on the girl you wish had a bigger chest against her will

AN: Definitely longer than I intended (1700+ words) but sometimes I start writing and I can't stop! I hope you enjoy it!

Dana had been my friend for a long, long time, since we were too young to be stopped by the idea that boys and girls weren't allowed to be friends with each other. It made our bond special and it meant that we could really talk about anything with each other. There were no secrets between us, even when we started growing up and going through changes.

Well, some changes.

While I did okay, puberty was less kind to Dana. Her face changed and she got a little taller, but even before she hit five feet, her body decided that it was just done growing. Done growing upward, done growing out. She transitioned from a training bra to a 28AA, though one could hardly call that a transition. Her hips stayed narrow. I told her that her slender waist have her body a really feminine shape, but I could tell she didn't really believe me. She said she was fine with it, though. We'd talk about girls in our classes who had shot through the alphabet and turned into bombshells overnight and Dana insisted that she didn't want any part of that. Tits made people dumb, she said. Tits made people boring. As soon as you could rely on your figure, your personality shriveled up and withered away. She said she was far happier with her smaller body than she could ever be as some huge-boobed bimbo. It was pretty obvious that she was just trying to bury her jealousy in pride, especially when she said that she'd never sully her body by get implants or trying to grow even a single cup size bigger.

The fallout of her first girlfriend leaving her for a bustier woman was intense. Dana was practically catatonic for a week, and I did all I could to look after her. She barely ate. She barely slept. It was the most depressed I had ever seen her. One night, when she was delirious from lack of sleep, she grabbed me by the collar and told me that big tits made someone a bad person. Busty women were all homewreckers who deserved to be shunned from society or be forced into brothels where they can perform their singular service to society and they can't hurt anyone else. She finally fell asleep with her arms crossed over her chest.

In hindsight, casting a spell on her against her will to make her tits grow probably wasn't the best way to go about helping her. It was a bit of a panicked idea; I just couldn't bear the thought any longer of not being able to help. Nothing I did could drag her out of her slump, so I resorted to an admittedly extreme measure. There was a decent chance, anyway, that the magic would be bogus or be indistinguishable from natural growth, which made it easier to justify. Neither of those were the case.

It was interesting, at least, to watch her reaction to growing. The first few cup sizes, grown quickly over a day or two, were met with a trepidatious pride. In her mind, she could still consider them "small", even if they were magnitudes bigger than the next-to-nothing she had before. There was an adjustment period, getting used to having weight and wobble on her chest. I occasionally walked into the room just in time to see her yank her hands away from her tits, blush on her cheeks, embarrassed for having acknowledged them at all. She'd stammer out something along the lines of "Well, this is fine. They're still small. I'm not a big titted, girlfriend stealing whore. As long as I stay this big, I'll be fine."

She didn't, of course. Dana's growth continued unbothered by her own feelings about her tits. Once she passed the DD mark, she couldn't really excuse them as being small. The timid fondness that marked her early growth quickly turned to dismay and frustration. A glass was knocked off the table and shattered on the ground, a casualty of Dana's slow acclimation to her own size. She was so angry at herself and her tits in response, that she punched her boob hard enough to leave a bruise. "Fuck these things! I never wanted them! And now they're huge and in the way! Gross bags of fat, never fucking stop moving! The moment you stop growing, I'm chopping you off, you hear me!"

She wouldn't get the chance. By the time the bruise healed, she was pushing the limits of common bra sizes. She never gained an inch in height, still standing with the top of her head below my chin, and her hips stayed narrow as ever, but that slim waist of hers was rapidly being concealed behind her growing tits. She was growing too fast to even buy a bra to contain them and so she milled about my apartment in shirts that were rapidly becoming too tight, struggling to contain that much tit. I could hear the seams straining whenever Dana arched her back and lifting her arms above her head inevitably caused a bit of underboob to slip out.

As much as I tried to keep myself under control, it was about that time that I started staring. I couldn't help myself. These were the biggest tits I had ever seen in real life and rapidly encroaching on being the biggest tits I had seen ever. The first time she caught me staring, it caught her off-guard and I could tell she dismissed it as nothing. The second time, she got angry, punching my arm a bit harder than just "playfully", reminding me that she's a person and more than a pair of tits. The third time, though, I could tell something was different. She blushed and turned away, but her body betrayed her, two little indents forming on the front of her stretched shirt, her nipples stiffening beneath.

It was a few days later, when we were both watching TV (or, rather, we were on our phones on the couch while the TV was on) when Dana turned to me. By now, her breasts nearly rested in her lap, only an inch or two between her thighs and the undersides of her tits. "Do you, um..." She bit her lip. "Do you like big tits?" My face flushed and I stammered something completely incoherent, but she waved her hand in the air, her tits wobbling. "No, no, it's okay. You're fine, dude. I was just... You've been so nice to me through all of this. The break up first and then these." She gave the side of her tit a little slap, the impact rippling across her bust. "And I realized this morning that, um..." She bit her lip, her toes (not reaching the ground past the edge of the couch) curled and uncurled. Her nipples stiffened beneath her shirt, larger and more obvious than ever. "I realized that I'm bigger. Not just bigger than I was before, I mean, anyone would be bigger than I was- hell, you're bigger than I was-" She waved her hand and cleared her throat. "What I mean to say is that I'm bigger than her. The one that stole Nadia away from me. By, like, a lot." The more she talked, the wider her smile grew. She sat up straight, pushing her breasts forward slightly. "I think... I think it would help me get my confidence back if I, y'know, did something with them."

She shifted in her seat, turning her whole body towards me, climbing up onto her knees. There was nowhere for me to go except back into the corner of the couch where Dana quickly trapped me. There was nowhere I could go that wouldn't have me brushing against her bust. "I've never felt... attractive. Before. I told myself it wasn't important. The closest I ever got was the first date Nadia and I went on, but clearly that didn't pan out. But now I have these huge fucking boobs. And you can't stop looking at them. And I've seen you, er, react to them. A little tent in your pants." Now both of us were blushing. The tension in the air grew thicker by the second. "It wouldn't surprise me if you, ahem, jerked off to them. I've already done it myself a few times. They're... they're really sensitive." Her hands felt so small as they reached out and grabbed my wrist. I could barely believe what was happening as she dragged my hand up to her bust, my palm hovering an inch over her left tit. Warmth radiated out of them and into me. Her breathing became deep and slightly ragged. "If you wanted to, we could... I mean, it would be alright if... We'd still be friends either way, but..." Her confidence was wavering so I bridged that final gap, pushing my hand forward and taking her tit in my grip.

Instinct took over. I squeezed. Hard. The initial shock was quickly broken through by a wall of arousal slamming into Dana. She arched her back, pushing her tit into my hand. I don't even think I could describe how it felt to have that massive breast bulge around my fingers, spilling out through every gap, her nipple twitching and quivering against my palm. Even now, the memory of pulling her shirt up and exposing her massive tit, how it felt to have her little hands on the back of my head guiding my lips to her nipple, moaning in time with the rhythmic sucking and squeezing of her head-dwarfing tit, leaves me feeling a bit dazed.

Dana would grow a little bit larger before finally stopping, the spell wearing off. Nadia was quickly forgotten (though I had to talk Dana down from sending her a Big mistake. Huge. style text with a picture of her cleavage) and Dana's attitude on tits quickly normalized. Dana and I didn't end up together, though we did briefly have a friends-with-benefits relationship. Then she met Lillian and the two have been together ever since. I did, eventually, tell Dana about the spell and there was an awkward couple of days, but apparently Lillian helped her through it and she was able to, eventually, thank me for it. She said that I probably should have asked, but admitted that she probably would have said no and then she would have missed out on something wonderful. Lillian occasionally sends me pictures of Dana's bust as continuous thanks for my part in making them. She says it's the least she can do.

#breast expansion #breast growth #breast obsession #breast envy #GO asks #I don't think this is what you had in mind for this ask #This may be inspired by some real people I know #Names have been changed to protect the innocent

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loweya-blog · 11 hours ago

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Mc a dying angst and fluff PLEASEEEE mc dies in front of the cast get judged which takes a decade or so and and makes it to the celestial realm ands like "damn ig Im here now" after a few days or so of hanging out with the angels tells demons that the dearly beloved human had made it to the realm and the demons instantly starts trying to make preparations with Michael trying to start up an another exchange program so they can see mc again

IDK IF YOU CAN TELL BUT I LOW-KEY HATE SENDING REQUEST ITS SO EMBARRASSING TO ME😞😞😞 anyways i spent my time pondering this one sorry for any spelling mistakes I'm really sick rn and im kinda sorta dyslexic-ham

No worries hon! Here's your request, I hope you like it ૮꒰˵• ﻌ •˵꒱ა

ˋ°•*⁀➷ Renewed Hope

The House of Lamentation was silent, as it had been for many many years. Each of the brothers had closed themselves off into their respective rooms and hobbies after classes had ended, isolating themselves from each other. Lucifer kept himself busy with constant paperwork. Mammon ran himself dry at the casino. Leviathan huddled in his rooms, playing endless games and watching anime nonstop. Satan separated himself in his room and consumed every new book he could get his hands on. Asmodeus partied day in and day out. Beelzebub focused on sports and eating while Belphegore lost himself in endless sleep. These routines they'd fallen into had kept themselves sane after your passing. When the anger and sorrow and tears faded away, leaving nothing but the empty hole in their souls with nothing to fill it.

Your monument sat in the graveyard, strictly maintained and cleaned but each of the brothers had their own private monument to you within their rooms. For some it was a shirt or an item while others had drawings or writings of yours. They would even add little offerings to you, as though you could receive them somehow. Anything to make the sting of your passing just a little bit better.

The moment you had died was right in front of them. Right in front of their eyes. Solomon immediately jumped to cast any of his life-saving spells on you while the rest of the group desperately tried to hold on. Even Thirteen refused to reap you right away in a fragile hope you could be save. But.... it was no use. Your body had died and though the soul remained, Thirteen knew she couldn't delay any longer or else you'd end up lost to the winds. The deep sorrow stuck each like lightning as they realized.... you were gone. Possibly for good.

But they still kept your words close in their hearts. When a brother was feeling down, they'd help each other out and listen to them. That sense of family you had created, though bruised, was not gone. And they'd fight any damn fool who tried to change that.

Meanwhile.... You were having the worst afterlife ever. The stupid judges couldn't decide if you were to be sent to the Celestial Realm or to the Devildom. It was obvious you hadn't done anything to deserve eternal torment but it would be just as cruel to send you to the Celestial Realm away from the majority of your family. Purgatory wasn't an option either since it would just send you away from both.

How does one give a human a perfect afterlife when they have family in both?

While they had their stupid discussions you were stuck for a WHOLE DECADE sitting on that stupid bench and playing tic tac toe with any sucker who was behind you in line. Eventually the judges relented, realizing that they couldn't make a pick so they drew straws, excluding the purgatory option. You got lucky, or unlucky depending on the perspective, and got sent to the Celestial Realm.

The moment you arrived, you felt your body become light as two little wings popped out from your back. All around you were beautiful grassy fields of the celestial realm and the soft warmth of the sun and lovely skies. As you wandered the field, heading towards the collection of white buildings and pastel structures in the distance, you heard someone's familiar voice.

"....MC?" Luke's little voice called out.

When you turned, you saw your precious angel with eyes wide and full of unshed tears.

"I-is this really you?" He asked, reaching out to see if you weren't some wonderful dream.

When you nodded, he embraced you and cried his little heart out. By the time he finished with his tears, Simeon had found you both. Simeon's eyes widened with realization and tears fell from his eyes. He embraced you, his hands shaking as he buried his face into your shoulder.

"W-we thought we had lost you." He whispered, his voice fragile with the weight of a decade's patience.

Eventually both freed you, after an hour of hugging and led you over to the celestial realm's town. Both were alert, as if afraid to let anybody try to take you away from them again. Luke was mostly just excited to introduce you to all his angel friends and show you all their shops and buildings and everything the Celestial Realm had to offer.

You got your own room, properly met Michael who welcomed you with warmth, and relaxed for a few days. Yet through your sleep, your mind lingered on the brothers and the others from the Devildom. You missed them dearly but had no way of returning to them, as all your stuff was still in the House of Lamentation. A few days had passed and you convinced Simeon to message the others. He reluctantly did, and was bombarded by hundreds of questions and demands to hand the phone over to you so they could at least hear your voice.

Each phone call was full of crying and sorries and words of love. Lucifer and Diavolo immediately began working on a way to bring you home. The best solution was the exchange program. Meanwhile Solomon, ever the clever snake, just casually broke into the Celestial Realm so he could see you, giving no care to the regulations that normally governed such a realm. He held you tight, not wanting to ever let you out of his sight again.

Michael was more than happy to add you to the exchange program on the terms that you would use the chance to learn how to be an angel from Simeon and Luke while there. After accepting these terms, you return to the devildom.

Mammon was the first to greet you, having stayed up all night for your return. He tried to act all tough, but after a soft smile from you, he broke and rushed in for a hug. Each of them welcomed you with tears and tight hugs that almost crushed you. From then on..... you realized they would never let you leave again. No matter where you went or what you did, they would always love you and find you.

The End.

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me nightbringer #om!#omswd #om! nightbringer #fyp #nightbringer #om! shall we date #obey me boys #obey me fic #obey me fanfic #obey me brothers #obey me fluff #obey me headcanon #obey me mc #gender neutral mc

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atsucry · 3 days ago

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Beyond The Thorn Vines

𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖕𝖙𝖊𝖗 𝐕.

Malleus Draconia x gn!reader

additional info: there might be plot holes.

cw: none.

"Return as you once were," She started.

Hovering her hand over your head, the water that encompassed you stilled completely for the very first time since it had been there. A ripple ran through afterwards.

"May the curse uplift and let you prosper and bud. Let the past be healed, release the one in dormancy, and obliviate all that harm that has been done from hindsight."

Yet, everyone could sense the hesitation and shudder in her voice—a leaf trembling and caught in a gust of wind—as though doubting she could ever take you back.

Walking through a hallway of glass was all there is to it, you find your eyes to be somewhere else other than the subject talking to you and instead at the expanse of the reef beyond; two disproportionate footsteps resounded through the otherwise empty space—save for you and Azul as he went on.

“—And for you, you’re aware that octavinelle relies upon your adaptability. I have no doubt you’ll manage, but,” He says with an expectant huff in his assessment of them. “Of course, should you require guidance… you need only ask.”

You already acquainted yourself with the dorm leader during the ceremony, through some miracle you'd managed to spare yourself from being a target to one of his deal makings—at least for the time being. even for someone as lip as he was, you weren't naive for certain. you've met their fair share of conniving individuals through the course of your life, he wore his ambition like a second skin, almost, as it seemed to you.

As for the events that led up to you booting yourself in the domain of the benevolent sea witch, is something you can at least recollect.

At the start it was only it's all too eccentric headmage, that had warmly welcomed you and announcing his deeds of remarkable kindness as to give you the full experience of the college—and organising for you to go through the whole orientation and ceremony of dorm sorting to “allow you to feel more at home”.

Of course, he casually glossed over the not-so-small fact that you might peeve the other students that had prejudiced ideas about you. Needless to say, where there's bad there's good. Che'nya told you of that time he had been chased out of heartslabyul by its students.

But throughout the whole orientation it looked like one dorm leader hadn't made himself present. Chenya—he, by some way out there, caught wind that the reason the housewarden wasn't there—was because of his status. Naturally, questions and assumptions started stirring in your psyche.

Someone being unable to join meetings because of their position of higher position impossible a student nonetheless—

"I sure do hope I still have your attention?" He said with the snap of his fingers.

"A—yes. I'm sorry for that really—"

His face said all it could, he took your words with a grain of salt by the looks of it. "It's all right, but do heed my warning that if you don't pay especially close attention, you'll find yourself in deep tangles of trouble."

Nodding, you took in his words. "I'll note that."

"You mistake me, it's not a suggestion; it's crucial survival."

"...You're…joking with me, right?"

"Maybe, maybe."

A quiet wince crawled out your throat. Hooking your fingers around the knot of your tie and adjusting it into place to save yourself from any further embarrassment.

Going round the bend of the hallway, you entered into a café, couches of dark rich leather were placed all around uniformly as well as neatly polished tables, it was hours just before the opening time so it gave you the opportunity to get a good look around the place.

You stepped up the raised platform trailing behind your guide, by the looks of it this place was entirely an aquarium, considering its wards. The bar stood at the far right of the cafe. Behind the counter, shelves were lined with ornate bottles of all shapes and colors, their contents shimmering like liquid gemstones. Making you hum to yourself—maybe you'd get something there sometime.

It smelled purely of water, a refreshing smell indeed. an appetizer for the senses. Your face lit up in delectation, the owner had outdone himself, atleast to whatever standards of yours it reached.

"Right…And—and is this supposed to be a café of the sort?"

"Mostro Lounge. If you want, you could work shifts here." The sharp click of his heels on the ground halted, as well as all movement of his. "I take great pride in the fact I've furnished the entire space through my judgment of aesthetics."

"It's certainly polished," You swiped your finger over one of the table tops, squeaking under the friction.

A look of satisfaction overtook his expression at your evaluation, he couldn't help the warm chuckle that escaped him, contrastive to the blue, cold contexture.

"I appreciate the feedback,” He replied. “Of course, you also have something pretty to look at while you eat if your conversation grows stale; or if you came to eat alone," he added. "furthermore if you have any suggestions for the menu we will take it into account."

"Oh! Well that's nice," a fleeting sense of marvel had passed through you, holding your own hands in front of you as your gaze roamed the surroundings, letting it run along the pristine glass that let through a sight to see, a natural glow of its own, disregarding the already lit table lamps.

Though, the lingering thought of another…incident had not left your mind for some peace, being mindful of large bodies of people became a crucial forethought to you.

“This really does look like a fine place to dine but i think i'll have to catch mine early everytime—or just have it as take-out if thats not a hassle."

“Social anxiety, I take it?”

“Wha? No…” You hesitated. "Not exactly, just a personal problem.”

Azul cocked his head slightly to the side,reading his look, he was starting to go into his introspect by the quirk of the corner of his mouth. "I am always open to helping my wards when it comes to catering to their needs, if there were anything you needed im sure I could find a way to accommodate—"

“I promise I’ll just tell you another time.”

“Promise? You're sure of that?”

“Absolutely.”

“Very well,” Said Azul, by the tone of his voice it seemed he dropped the topic, turning back to tour more of the dorm. “Well, I believe that's enough of an introduction for now. You've seen the lounge, Mostro lounge, and I've shared its purpose. The rest, I think, is best experienced firsthand.” And with that you were dismissed.

“But I wouldn't want you to get lost on your first day here, so I'll have my business partners watch over you and guide you whenever.”

In a moment's notice, two new footsteps had come out of nowhere from one side of the hallway, gradually drawing closer and as if they were summoned out of nowhere. Once turning the bend and fully came into view; mirroring figures—nearly, if you squinted. They still had different features. One wore his uniform like he just put it on without thought.

"Ah, there you are," Azul remarked, turning toward them with a measured smile. "I was just introducing our newest student to Mostro Lounge, and I thought it best to have you two accompany them. As we discussed earlier, a guide is always a good idea."

He went on to introduce the twins, the twins, introducing themselves. Jade & Floyd leech. With a creeping voice, one of them addressed you.

“Look who we have here,” Floyd said, stepping forward a bit. “Fresh meat from the Royal Sword Academy! How cute!” What was most bizarre about him, however you noticed—were his irregular eye colours. You could say the same for the other twin. "What do you think, Jade? Should we test their resilience? See if they can handle the experience?"

Your brows furrowed, discomposure running down your being like a stream, and every on going word only served to disorient you. As evident in your eyes darting anywhere but them with the energy of a rogue bullet.

Jade, ever the picture of composure, adjusted his gloves with precision before answering. "Now, now, Floyd. Let's not frighten our new guest on their first day. We wouldn't want them running back to Royal Sword Academy, would we?" They were…interesting personalities to say the least. Behind their eyes were surely threads of thoughts you, for one, had no access to. You were sure it was all tangles anyway.

Azul cleared his throat, drawing everyone's attention back to him. "Now that introductions are complete, I trust the two of you to ensure our new student doesn't encounter... unnecessary difficulties. Am I understood?"

"Crystal clear, boss," Floyd said with an exaggerated salute, his grin as sharp as ever.

"Of course," Jade agreed with a slight bow.

Azul nodded in approval before turning to you. "Consider this arrangement a token of my goodwill. You'll find that having the Leech brothers as your guides can be quite advantageous—though I recommend staying on their good side." His tone was light, but the warning was unmistakable.

With that, Azul excused himself, leaving you alone with the twins. The moment he was out of earshot, Floyd's grin stretched impossibly wider.

"So, newbie," he began, slinging an arm around your shoulders with a surprising lack of regard for personal space. "What's your deal? You look like someone who’s got a story. Spill it."

“Floyd, it's not recommended to get into someone else's affairs.” Jade interjected, his voice carrying a hint of reproach.

Floyd waved him off but did loosen his grip slightly. "Fine, fine. But only because you asked so nicely, Jade."

"Well, you've landed in the deep end, that's for sure," Floyd said, chuckling. "But hey, sink or swim, right?"

"We’ll make sure you stay afloat. For now, why don’t we continue the tour? There’s much more to see of Octavinelle than just the Mostro Lounge."

Reluctantly, you nodded, falling into step with the twins. Floyd hummed a jaunty tune as he strolled alongside you, while Jade’s calm presence served as a strange counterbalance. The two of them, so different yet undeniably connected, made for an odd pair of guides—but at least you weren’t wandering alone.

You took your sweet time wandering the vicinity, walking ‘round without another thought and taking glances behind you from time to time to ease your own, imaginative worries, not that you meant to insult.

Eventually, the tour came to an end, having them escort you back to your own dorm room. You waved them a simple goodbye while they left side by side.

The sound of the lock mechanism making a click had brought you an unprecedented relief, holding a hand over the gap between the door and frame as a light huff left you. A gentle flow of light from your bedroom shone through onto your back—it made it look like waterfalls fell from the edges of your shoulders onto the ground.

“Ah, you're still alive I see.” A voice called out from behind you, and there really could be only one individual—

“Chenya, how'd you get here?!” Surprised words shot out right through your teeth like bolts of lightning.

“Hm…No how are you? I get it. Well, that's not somethin’ you gotta worry about. I’ve just come to check up on you to see if you still have all your toes and fingers intact and I'll be on my merry way.” He whistled, slowly lowering himself on your desk chair, swirling his finger around that book to feel up its texture. “You coincidentally got your hands on such a wacko book—”

“Chenya, please stop touching it,’ dragging yourself to his side, you sighed. “I already got too much on my plate as is.”

He carefully set the book down, setting up tension for you and raising his hands in surrender. “Alright…my hands are off.” He jeered at you. This was one of the only times you think he's been straightforward in listening to commands.

“Oh, I can imagine Azul’s already sizing you up for one of his famous contracts. Did he offer you a freebie yet? He loves doing that, makes the fish think they’re getting a good deal.” He spinned around in your chair, making you step back lest you collide with him, before it stopped and he faced you again with him resting his head on the backrest of it.

“No…? Not that I'M aware of…?” You said, certainly UNcertain because that's all you could recall.

“A shame…well, I better get going before I face the wrath of a certain housewarden…heh heh…” And just like time and time again, he disappeared. Only leaving his laughter to keep you company momentarily after he fully vanished.

But, it didn't go unnoticed by you, the light tapping outside your window—only to find that outside it was wholly water. Recalling the memories left you had as a juvenile where you could share words with the element itself almost. Communicating in unconventional manners. an ability Naiads possessed.

You approached the glass like a wary creature coming out of hiding, taking ample steps forward.

What you felt bubbling up however, was a different story on its own. A distant memory resurfaced for air under the heavy weight of everything else. It hit again—that pin pricking pain in the head, you would think it was trying to weave itself onto you and tighten loose threads.

Your fingers found its way to cup your forehead habitually, acting like a helmet from a headshot, as useless as it may seem, it was the placebo effect of it. your eyes shut like a chest of a baneful soul's secrets for a brief moment before forcing them to look upon the sight before you.

You could only wish for such things to be rid themselves, your body giving into the weight, letting you stumble over to the window to support yourself. To get to something so seemingly meaningless, it made the effort to have you imagine you walked a mile.

For a few seconds, you made the inference that it wanted to make a mockery of you, the stillness of it only invoked your irate temper even further, before something moved in the otherwise nothingness, an endless blue.

A singular green river pebble, how it got here remains a mystery. It came into view—seemingly out of nowhere, an echo of something, in any chance, nostalgia.

Your gaze fixed on it, your breath catching in your throat. It didn’t belong here, and yet it was here, as vivid as the headache splitting your mind in two. suspended in a liminal moment where logic buckled under the weight of something deeper—instinct, perhaps, or fear.

It passed, and it was gone. Yet you were still here, waiting vainly in position.

"Is that…that was…was that it?" You weren't far from a madman, maybe you were. "You sure do enjoy being vague for something so clear." You crossed your arms, exhaling and leaving a fog on the glass. You rested your knee on the edge of the bed before letting yourself topple over and into the sheets.

"I find myself here again…"

Your eyes slowly screwed themselves close, giving yourself a well deserved nap.

Like clockwork, most things around you seemed to still, save for one—an inanimate object. Everything still went on while you were deep in your dreams.

The bead of glass embedded into the book shattered itself another crack, marring it's visage and the color of essence remained a bright red beneath it.

As you lie there, you could only hope to wake up to silk mornings.

note: hey...haha...guess who's back...chat i swear i didnt abandon it I jst got caught up in school and mental health breaks. Im gnna be updating soon again to make up for it. And forgive the possible inconsistencies and inaccuracies. Thank you for reading!

#malleus draconia x you #malleus draconia x reader #malleus draconia #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twst x you #disney twst

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something-tofightfor · 11 hours ago

Text

Locked Down Part 22: The Decision

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Female Reader

Word Count: 10,921

Rating: There's nothing graphic, but we'll go with M because I mention a couple things briefly.

Summary: Being home for the holidays for the first time since the pandemic began is a definite change for you. While Dieter can't be there for Thanksgiving, the promise of his Christmas arrival means that it's time to begin publicly appearing together. It's definitely something that you want, but that doesn't mean it's easy.

Along with navigating an official relationship with Dieter, there's also plenty of other life - and career - choices to consider.

Author’s note:

Two full years later, here's another chapter. Is anyone still interested? Was anyone waiting to find out what happens next for these two? I hope so. This chapter has been halfway done for about a year, I just got super sidetracked... but not anymore.

I've missed writing for Dieter, so it was nice to get back to this story.

Catch up on the other parts here: Locked Down Masterlist

Settling into life in Georgia after getting back from Vancouver was more difficult than you thought it would be. Your flight was smooth, and your apartment was just as you’d left it, but from the moment you landed, you felt like you were on the go.

You scheduled your meeting with Carmen for the Monday after the holiday, which meant that you had plenty of time to prepare yourself for it. In the email confirmation, she included a single extra line of text - It seems like we have a lot more than the job offer to talk about - but didn’t elaborate, and even reading through it, you couldn’t stop smiling.

Whatever happened in the future with Dieter, she was partially responsible for it - and you knew that she wouldn’t ever let you forget it.

When your third COVID test came back negative the Tuesday after you got home, you sent a quick text to Dieter that morning letting him know that you’d be unavailable for part of the day. That done, you headed for your parents’ new place, grocery list in hand.

Your mother added to it, and without talking about anything in detail, you headed for the store, determined to get in and out as fast as possible so that you could start baking. There won’t be too many people this year, but we still need a ton of food.

You navigated the aisles with relative ease, thankful for the fact that the mask you wore hid your annoyed expression. But you froze when you got to the checkout line, your eyes locked on one of the tabloids displayed on the endcap.

Dieter Bravo’s Dating Dilemma was the headline.

Beneath it was a picture taken in Vancouver - and after you’d left, if his haircut was any indication - of him talking on the phone as he walked down the street.

It was a smaller blurb next to his picture that really caught your attention, though. Instagram posts say one thing, but past behavior says another! And below that was an inset picture of the two of you taken from a distance at the airport - along with two photos of Dieter and other women. Christen and Tina.

You knew that it was a bad idea. But you still reached for the magazine and tossed it into the cart, fighting back the urge to open it and flip to the article while you waited in line. But that would be weird.

So you forced yourself to wait until you’d paid for your groceries and were sitting in the parking lot, grabbing for the magazine and finding the correct pages.

As you read them, you couldn’t contain your laughter. The “article” was little more than a few paragraphs picking apart Dieter’s social media posts, as well as Tina’s, and then pictures next to brief mentions of multiple other women he’d been linked to in the past - including Jennifer Pearson, Carol Cobb and Mara. You - like Christen - were simply listed as a “mystery woman”, and by the time you finished reading, you were upset that you’d shelled out the money to buy it.

Then, you did the only thing you could think of and held the magazine up next to your face, grinning as you raised your phone and took a selfie. Attaching it to a text message, you sent it to Dieter, along with one sentence: Baby’s first tabloid cover!

Still laughing as you put the car into drive, you wondered if anything would come of the cover as it related to your social media or privacy. It’s not like some people don’t know who I am, I’ve been on TV for years.

Just as you pulled into your parents’ driveway, your phone rang, Dieter’s face on the screen. “Hey.” Answering it through your car’s Bluetooth, you put the car back into park, leaning against your seat. “You didn’t need to call.”

“Yeah, I did. I didn’t even know that issue was going to print those. I usually get a heads up.”

“Dieter, it’s fine.” Rubbing at your temple, you grinned. “I’m actually kind of annoyed that I’m listed as a mystery woman. These people must not watch Informal Eats, or know how to use Instagram, because -”

“You could start tagging yourself in pictures.” He laughed and then you did, too. “The one you sent me would be kind of funny.” You hadn’t even considered that, but if Dieter was suggesting it, it was at least worth a thought.

“Wouldn’t that be an official confirmation, though? I thought we weren’t doing that.” He sighed, and you heard the honking of a horn on his end of the call. Shit, I didn’t even think about where he might be. “Dieter? Are you busy? I don’t want to keep you.”

“I’m walking to get coffee.” He cleared his throat. “We’ve got a night shoot tonight and then we’re taking a couple days off for the holiday. They don’t celebrate it up here, but a lot of the cast and crew are American, so…”

“Who are you spending Thanksgiving with?” Chewing on your lower lip, you waited for his answer.

“Michael and Jenna. He came in on Monday, and they invited me over for dinner.” Good. “Maybe next year we can spend it together.” His voice was quiet but you heard it nonetheless - his apprehension clear, even over the phone. Does he think I wouldn’t want to?

“We should see how Christmas and New Year’s go, first.” Trying to decrease the tension, you nodded, eyes on the front door. “You might not like my family, and your friends might not like me.”

“I don’t have any real friends.” He laughed, saying your name again. “I made damn sure of that over the last couple years.” Oh, Dieter. You hadn’t really considered that - you’d seen pictures of him with people, heard stories of the time he spent hanging out with them while he was in LA between jobs. But are they really friends? Or is it just … “That’s the thing. When you’re not on the hard shit all the time, it gives you time to think.”

“Dieter, I -” He cut you off, though, his tone not unkind.

“No, it’s alright.” The sound of a bell came through the speaker and you knew that the conversation was about to get cut short. “It’s the truth. I have people I can call friends, but it’s not … shit, I’m closer to Jenna and Michael than any of them, and I’ve gotta pay her to -”

“You do not.” Laughing, you sighed. “I mean, yeah you do pay her, but she’d still care about you even if you didn’t. These last few years have been weird for everyone, Dieter. Once you’re home for a while, you’ll see.” I hope I’m right. “I’m helping my mom cook for a while, and then I’m going home, so if you want to give me a call later, you can.”

“I won’t be done tonight until at least 3, so that would be what, 6 am your time? I’m not going you call you that early.” He scoffed. “Too fuckin’ early.”

“That’s one thing we can agree on.” Getting out of the car, you popped the trunk open, pausing next to it. “But seriously, call me whenever. I like hearing your voice.” He didn’t reply for a few seconds, and then Dieter said your name, waiting a couple breaths to continue.

“I’m really sorry that they printed that picture. It’s been a week, and I didn’t think they would.”

“Dieter, you kissed me for a solid two minutes out in the open.” Laughing, you tilted your head back, the memory of his lips on yours widening your smile. “I’m surprised they didn’t post a better one.” He snorted at that, but you didn’t give him a chance to reply. “I’m not going to tag anything or post anything. I’m sure some people have already done it for me, but I have everything on silent except for alerts from people I follow, so if it’s up, I haven’t seen it.”

“Alright.” He cleared his throat. “What are you making today?”

“Pies.” Pulling the trunk all the way open, you eyed the bags. “And we’re brining the turkey. And I’m sure I’ll have to prep at least one or two other sides, even though we’re only having a couple people over. There’s always way too much food.”

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to help eat any of it. Or to answer questions.” He meant it - you could tell. And I appreciate it. “I should be.”

“No, you’ll be here for Christmas, and there will be way more people there to explain things to.” Tilting your head to the side to trap your phone between it and your shoulder, you paused. “Sorry, Dieter.”

“I’m not.” You laughed again, fingers closing around the bag handles. “I’m looking forward to it.” So am I.

—

By Monday morning, you were exhausted, despite the fact that you hadn’t done anything all weekend aside from eat and shop.

You’d had to explain more than a few things to your relatives - a younger cousin in disbelief that you’d actually worked with Krystal Kris, and one of your aunts loudly questioning why, if you were seeing Dieter, he wasn’t there for the holidays. But aside from that, there hadn’t been much in the way of unexpected conversation, or prying from your family.

It’s just having so much to do around so many people after so long of … Groaning as you tightened your hold on the steering wheel, you shook your head. “Too much socialization.”

Once your family left after dinner and a few rounds of cards, you’d called Dieter, video chatting with the three of them for a few minutes and telling him to call you when he was back at his rented apartment. And when he’d done that, it had taken a while to rehash the conversations you’d had with your relatives - and the reactions you’d gotten. It would have been easier if you’d been together, but unexpectedly, just telling him about it had helped ease your stress level over how it had gone. And that’s a good thing.

After so much time spent secluded from the majority of the people around you, the holiday season getting started in full swing had been a shock. The stores were busy, the roadways were busy, and people - including some of your family members - were already unpleasant, even though it was still only November.

And now I’ve got this meeting with Carmen. Pulling into the parking lot, you searched it for her car and parked next to it. You were a few minutes early, but you wanted to get things over with - because you wanted to know whether or not you’d still have a job in the coming months. Or if I’ll be starting over from scratch.

As you walked toward the doors, your phone rang, the sound pulling you from your thoughts. There was a familiar picture on the screen, and you couldn’t keep the smile off your face as you answered. “Dieter, you’re calling early. Why are -”

“It is really fucking early, but I wanted to wish you good luck.” He sounded half asleep and you could picture him, stretched out on his side and still under the blankets - hair wild and lines marking his skin from pressing his face against his wrinkled pillowcase. “I’m going back to sleep as soon as we hang up, but -”

“Thank you.” Leaning back against the low wall, you nodded. “I’m happy to hear from you.”

“They’d be stupid not to agree to let you move somewhere and keep working.” He was mumbling, obviously still half asleep. “But even if they don’t, I’ll take care of you until you find something. Want to.” What? You froze at the words, unsure of whether or not Dieter even realized he’d said them, but when he continued, you knew that he had. “Won’t be able to afford you using Uber Copter every day, but…”

A loud burst of laughter broke the tension and moments later he joined in, the sound low and rumbling. I miss you so much, Dieter. “Go back to bed. You won’t need to take care of me. Promise.”

“I love you.” You didn’t say it every time you hung up, or at the end of every text conversation, so hearing the words from Dieter still hit just as hard as they had the first time. Who am I kidding? They always will.

“I love you too, Bravo. Now go back to sleep. Can’t have you looking like a raccoon on set today.”

You hung up moments later, and after giving yourself a few seconds to compose yourself - and to remind yourself to bring up Dieter’s offer to take care of you at a later date - you headed inside the building and straight for the elevator. One thing at a time, though.

Carmen was waiting for you in her office, her desktop covered with folders and a few stacks of paper. “It’s good to see you again.” She looked up at you, gesturing for you to sit. “Have a good weekend?”

“I did. This is the first real holiday I’ve spent at home since before the pandemic.” Sinking into the chair across from hers, you scooted it in, resting your elbows on the desk’s edge. “It’s weird to get things back to almost normal, though.” She agreed, her smile understanding. “How about yours?”

“It was great. Just the two of us.” She sighed. “I cooked and we just watched movies, and it was amazing to turn off my phone and laptop for a couple days.” She sighed, flipping through the papers directly in front of her. “Now I just have to get through everything for the next couple weeks, and then Nate and I are going to be in Rome for the holidays.” Oh, I didn’t know that.

“Well, then…” Licking your lips, you took a deep breath. “Let’s not waste any time.” The glint in her eyes told you that she’d been waiting for you to start speaking, and so you didn’t disappoint. “I’m…” Glancing down at your hands for a few seconds and then reaching up to touch the pendant you wore, you steeled yourself for what was coming next. “Carmen, Dieter and I are together. We pretty much have been since… well since Christmas last year, but we just made it official when I was in Texas.”

“Congratulations.” Her smile grew, the woman reaching across the table to squeeze your hand. “That’s got to be the worst kept secret in the world, but…” Both of you laughed, Carmen pulling her hand back and picking up one of the folders before holding it out to you. “You seem happier.”

“I am.” Taking the folder, you flipped it open, eyeing the same contract that she’d already emailed to you. “But the reason that I wanted to meet with you in person was because I have a couple things that I’d like to talk with you about before I sign anything.” You tapped the papers. “There’s not really much in here about -”

“Are you quitting?” She leaned in, frowning. “Informal Eats wouldn’t be -”

“I don’t want to quit, no.” Head shaking back and forth, you blew out a breath. “I just … I guess the only way to say it is to say it.” Here goes nothing. “I’m thinking about moving out of Atlanta, Carmen. Either to New York City or to Los Angeles, and I … I guess I’m wondering if it would be possible for me to keep doing what I’ve been doing, but not live here.” You paused, trying to gauge her reaction, but the Carmen’s face was impassive. “You’re based in Atlanta, and I know that won’t change, but …”

She said your name, the look in her eyes changing to one of amusement. “Are you moving in with Dieter?” Well that was blunt.

“I’m thinking about it.” You covered your face with both hands, the folder dropping to the desktop. “He’s got a house in LA and an apartment in New York, and he offered me either of them if I could work something out with you. I know there’s offices in -”

“Congratulations.” Carmen leaned back, tilting her head to one side. “There wouldn’t be any relocation assistance or anything, but …” She shrugged, wrinkling her nose. “Just because I’m based out of Atlanta, that doesn’t mean that you need to be.” She gestured at the paperwork on her desk. “Why would you even think that it would be a problem?”

“I don’t… I don’t know.” You frowned. “I guess because I’ve always lived here, and this is where I signed the first contract, and I started out … here, so…” So I just assumed I had to stay. “I will be honest with you, though, Carmen. At some point, I’m going to want to do something else, and I have been actively looking into more projects like the one I worked on in England.” You held up the folder again. “But according my agent, the way this is structured, it’d be easy for me to find something in the months that I’m not shooting the show, if I wanted to.”

She nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. “We can amend the contract.” The woman took a deep breath, pressing her lips together. “I can have it rewritten, so it’s only one season at a time instead of two. The number of episodes per season will be the same, and we can make it so that you just have to electronically sign the -”

“No.” You made the decision almost immediately, leaning forward and resting your hand atop the document. “No, I’ll commit to two more seasons. Sixteen total episodes.” Flipping through the pages, you ran your finger down the outline. “Starting in February and running through until next January?” She nodded when you glanced up. “I can do that. I want to do that. I love the show and I love working with you and the crew, but I also… I love him, and being so far away all the time is…”

“I know.” She smiled, opening her desk drawer and reaching inside for a pen. “The one good thing this pandemic did was show us that we can do most of this shit remotely. Hell, you could move to Minnesota and you’d still be able to keep your job, as long as you could check in when we needed you to.” She grinned, holding out the pen. “Here.”

“It can’t be this easy.” You took the pen, though, drawing in a deep breath and holding it, meeting her eyes. “Carmen?”

“It is this easy. The only thing that would change is the airport you fly out of and back into at the end of your trips.” Her smile widened. “There is one thing, though.” Of course there is. “I want to meet him. I am the one that got you the job on Cliff Beasts, and I think I deserve to -”

Your laughter drowned out her speech, and as you leaned forward, putting the tip of the pen to the paper, she laughed, too. “Yeah, you do, Carmen.” Finishing your signature and adding the date, you dropped the pen and stood, waiting for Carmen to do the same. “He’s coming here for Christmas. I know you’re going to Rome, but if he’s here before you leave, you can meet him then.”

“Good.” She stepped around the desk and toward you, the woman holding her arms out. “Congratulations on your contract renewal.” Yeah. You were surprised at how much relief you felt at the realization that you were gainfully employed for another year - and that you hadn’t had to sacrifice either your job or the potential to be closer to Dieter to accept the position. “And congratulations on Dieter, too.”

When you hugged her, it was a tight one, the embrace similar to the ones you’d shared before - after meeting for the first time, after filming your pilot, after signing your other contracts - and you were thrilled that it felt just as good that time, too.

The two of you separated and when you met her eyes again, you were smiling - and so was Carmen. “I’d ask you to come out and grab a drink with me, but…” You glanced at the clock. “It’s barely 10 in the morning, so…”

“Yeah, I’ve got a bunch of stuff to get through today anyway.” She pushed you away gently, her gaze still focused on you. “Plus, from what it sounds like, you need to start figuring out where you’ll be living a couple months from now.” At that, you froze, both eyes going wide.

Yeah… I guess I do.

—

The closer it got to the holidays, the more nervous you were.

It wasn’t that you were worried about seeing Dieter again, because you knew that he was just as excited as you were. It wasn’t even that you were worried about him meeting your family and some of your friends, because he’d told you that he looked forward to it.

You were afraid that when Dieter saw how you lived, he’d change his mind about everything. You’d only known each other in temporary housing; rooms designed for short-term use, and the idea of Dieter in your space - using your bathroom and making coffee in your kitchen and sleeping in your bed - was overwhelming. Because we’re used to different things.

You decorated before he got there; stringing brightly colored lights around your windows and on the branches of your tree. Ornaments joined them, and so did a few garlands strategically placed throughout the main rooms of your place. And when you were done, everything felt homey, the soft glow of the tiny lights casting warmth throughout the space and making you feel better. I didn’t realize how much I missed decorating last year.

In the days leading up to Dieter’s arrival, you got some shopping done. Not only did you restock your fridge and cupboards, but you bought gifts, too, figuring that you wouldn’t want to go out to too many places with him there. It wasn’t because you wanted to hide Dieter. You wanted him to feel comfortable no matter where he was, and stores and malls would be busy so close to the holidays. And I don’t want to put him on the spot if anyone recognizes him.

You were checking things over in the few minutes before you had to leave to pick Dieter up from the airport when you heard someone knock. I’m not expecting anyone. Frowning, you made your way from your bedroom to the front door, peeking through the peephole before opening it.

All you saw were flowers - a large bouquet, from the looks of it, and so you sighed, pulling the door open. “Hello? Can I -”

“Special delivery.” You froze at the sound of the voice, eyes going wide as you watched the flowers move to one side to give you a glimpse at the man carrying them. “Thought I’d bring them to you myself instead of having ‘em delivered.” His smile widened but you couldn’t move, instead just staring. Dieter’s here. I was supposed to pick him up, and -

“You’re here. But I was just getting ready to … how? How are you …”

“Took an earlier flight.” He bit down on the inside of his lower lip, the look in his eyes shifting to one of disbelief. “I wanted to surprise you.”

“You did.” You finally moved, reaching out and taking the flowers from him before turning to put them on top of the table against the wall. “Dieter, this is the best fucking surprise ever.” Once both of your hands were free, you reached for him and twisted your fingers in the material of his jacket, pulling him into your apartment. “Come here, Bravo.”

Dieter reached behind him and grabbed the handle of his suitcase, dragging it after him and over the sill, only letting it go to pull on the knob to close the door behind him. Then he reached for you.

When his arms wound around you, you sighed deeply, turning your head so that you could press your cheek against the front of his shoulder. Closing your eyes, you just held him, focusing on the way that even though he’d just come from an airport - and a cross country flight - he still smelled like Dieter, and you knew that within a night or two, so would your bed and your blankets. He’s in my apartment. He’s here. “I’m happy to see you, too.” He murmured the words, one hand moving up the center of your back and coming to rest between your shoulders. “You scared me for a second there.”

“I did?” You stepped backwards without letting him go. “I didn’t mean to. I was just … shit. I guess I was in airport mode.”

“That’s one of the reasons I did what I did.” He moved his hands to your arms and slid them down, squeezing your hands before he let go. “Didn’t want you to have to go anywhere near that goddamn place so close to Christmas.” You laughed, rolling your eyes. “No, seriously. I know it’s a fucking nightmare. I filmed a movie here a while ago, and it was bad, and that was on a regular day.”

He toed his shoes off, and you watched as he looked around, eyes narrowed and his tongue visible where it poked into his cheek. He hates it. It’s too small. “How was your flight?” You were nervous, and you knew that it was irrational. You and Dieter had been through plenty together, and had gone much longer between visits before. Do I really feel like this because of my apartment? “Did -”

“Can I tell you something?” He turned to face you, putting one hand on his hip. “I’ve seen pictures of this place, and I’ve seen it when we FaceTime and …” He wet his lips. “I knew what it looked like, but …” Dieter moved closer, both of his hands rising so that he could hold your jaw between his palms. “It’s even better than I thought.”

“What?” You were confused, even as his thumbs swept over your skin. “Better? It’s just an apartment.”

“Yeah, but it belongs to you.” He leaned closer, your foreheads touching. “And you invited me to see it and to meet your family, and …” He hummed, lips moving against yours. “And I still can’t fuckin’ believe it.” Believe it, Dieter. You wanted to laugh at that, but he didn’t let you, the gentle press of his mouth turning more insistent as he kissed you for the first time since Vancouver. “Love you.” He paused long enough to speak, nodding twice as he said it. “I’m so goddamn excited to be here with you.”

“Yeah.” You kissed him one last time and then pushed him away with one hand. “But we’re going to be busy, Dieter. We have a couple parties and the actual holiday, and -”

“We’re not busy tonight though, right?” No, we’re not. “Because I’m pretty sure that I saved us a couple hours by getting here early.” His smile widened, and Dieter’s gaze dropped from your face to your body and then rose, the look in his eyes changing to a heated one that you knew well. “And that means we have extra time now.”

“Do you have something in mind?” You had an idea where he was going, but giving him shit was something that you enjoyed. “Do you want a tour of my place? Or need to take a nap? Or want to - “

“Tour later.” He stepped forward and you backed up, heartbeat thumping. “And I’ll sleep tonight. But right now…” He sucked air through his teeth, hands moving down and to your hips. “I’ve been thinking about you since I dropped you off at that airport, and I wanna do something about it.” He slipped his fingertips beneath the top elastic of your leggings, the warmth of his skin making you gasp. “If that’s alright with you.”

“The bedroom is -” He shook his head, cutting you off. “Ok, the couch -”

“No.” Dieter chuckled, more of his fingers pushing between the material and your skin and then pushing downward. “No, you’ve got a counter right behind you, and if you sit on it, you’re the perfect height.” You gasped again and felt your stomach lurch, but instead of letting him continue to remove your pants, you grabbed for him, one hand making its way to the tangle of curls on his head and the fingers of the other curling around his arm and gripping him tightly. That was accompanied by a bruising kiss, Dieter meeting you in the middle with his lips already parted, his tongue peeking through.

It was shocking to you how much you’d missed him, and how much missing him was amplified by having him right in front of you - and in your arms again. The kiss went on, turning sloppier by the second, and you felt the elastic snap back into place when Dieter moved his hands up, sliding them along your sides and pushing your shirt up with them.

You didn’t want to let go of his hair, but you did, raising your arms above your head so that when he pulled away to breathe, breaking the kiss, he was able to remove it completely. He touched you greedily, fingers stroking over your bared skin, and when he ducked his head down so that his mouth could trek across your upper chest, you tilted your head back and sighed, one hand gripping the edge of the counter and the other once again tangled in his hair.

“Missed you,” he mumbled without backing off. “Missed you so goddamn much.” You agreed, looking down again, and when Dieter straightened up all the way, you saw that his eyes were shining. “Never missed anybody as much as I miss you.” Oh, Dieter.

It was a shocking admission - and entirely unexpected coming from Dieter, but it was genuine, his jaw clenching as you absorbed the words. “I love you too, Dieter. And I was going to wait to tell you until later, but …” Biting your lip, you took a deep breath. “But if it’s alright with you, when I come out for New Year’s, I think I might stay a while, so you won’t have to miss me.”

He hadn’t been expecting those words from you, either, but his reaction was immediate. Dieter encircled you with his arms, laughing as he pulled you against his chest. “Alright with me? Fuck, there’s nothing that would make me happier.” His voice was shaky, and even though you knew it was because he was just happy, it made you sniffle, too, as you closed your eyes and hugged him tightly. “Bring your whole fucking apartment if you want.”

“I mean, I won’t have time to pack it all with you here, but…” You laughed again, meeting his eyes and reaching up to swipe away a tear from one of them. “My lease is up in February, and I really don’t want to sign another one, so…”

“Yeah, I know.” He rolled his eyes and turned his head so that he could kiss the heel of your hand. “I’m just saying.” The two of you stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, and then it was Dieter that spoke, brows knit together in thought. “You mean it? You want to come stay with me?”

“I do.” Twisting a curl near his temple around one finger, you nodded. “We’ve only been official for a little while, but it’s been … I’ve… we’ve …”

“We coulda been together before I left England.” He shrugged. “I was just following your lead.” You groaned when he winked, but Dieter went on. “I get it. I want you there, too.” He tilted his head to the side, not breaking eye contact. “But I’m not easy to live with.”

That made you laugh, and you waved him off, looking away briefly and then back at him. “I think if we made it through quarantine and not being allowed to leave each other’s presence for more than a few hours at a time, we can handle living in the same house and having options, Dieter. We’ll be fine. Besides,” you leaned closer, releasing your hold on his hair and gently tapping his cheek with your palm. “You’ve got a guesthouse, right?”

That got a bigger laugh out of him, and Dieter lowered his head as he agreed with you, his hold on your hips tightening just enough that you could feel it. “I do.” When he looked up, all signs of amusement were gone from his features and he instead looked serious, his attention focused. “Now how about you get up on that counter and let me show you exactly what one of the benefits of living with me will be.”

“Pants on or off?” Your desire for him grew again, warmth filling your belly and spreading. You’d never tire of Dieter looking at you the way he was that night, and part of you knew that he knew it, too. He needs to know it.

“Off.” He nodded, stepping backwards. “All the way off.” You did as he asked without question, which left you only in your bra. You were quiet while he grabbed for one of your chairs and dragged it closer to you, but you gasped in shock when he sat down backwards on it, leaning forward and pressing his chest against the tall back, both of his hands reaching out to settle on your calves. “Get comfortable, because you’re gonna be here a while.” He arched a brow, locking eyes with you before he dropped his gaze to your waist and then lower while pulling your legs apart. “Fuck.”

You pressed your lips together and then inched forward, hooking your legs over his shoulders and using both hands to brace yourself on the countertop. “That’s fine by me, Dieter.” The chair scooted forward a few more inches, which brought him closer, too, and when Dieter nodded, turning his head to the right and licking the inside of your thigh, you tensed, fingers curling against the laminate. Oh, that feels incredible… I missed him so much.

“Mmmmhmm.” He turned his head the other way, and repeated the motion on your other thigh, his hands sliding up your bare legs and to your hips, pulling you even closer. “Fucking perfect.”

—

You hadn’t wanted to go, but Dieter insisted that the two of you head out to a get together one of your friends was hosting a few days before Christmas.

It was at a local restaurant, and the text message you’d received explained that the entire upper floor was reserved for your group. The sentiment was nice, and you had gotten along well with her for a while, but you knew exactly why she’d reached out after so long.

“Meg wants to meet you, Dieter.” You were getting ready in the bathroom while he got dressed in your bedroom, both of you fresh out of the shower. “She wants to use it as an opportunity to network, and I’ll bet you $100 that she flirts with you right in front of me within the first fifteen minutes of being introduced.”

He poked his head in a few seconds later, and you caught his frown as a reflection in the mirror. “How does she know I’m here?”

“I don’t know, maybe because of the pictures you posted the other day from the Coke museum and the aquarium?” Arching a brow at him, you tilted your head to the side. “Or the caption that very specifically said ‘a much different world of Coke than I’m used to’ with the emoji that’s laughing so hard it’s -”

“Ok, yeah, that might have been what did it.” He fully entered the room, and you took a few seconds to watch as he wrinkled his nose, raising both hands to drag them through his hair and push it into even more disarray. “I still think we should go, though.”

“We’re going, Dieter. You said you wanted to, and that’s fine, I’m just telling you what to expect. This isn’t LA or New York, and the people I know here aren’t exactly drowning in celebrities, so … just be prepared for people to be a little overeager to impress you.”

It would be the first real test of your relationship, and the first time Dieter met anyone in your life. And the fact that we’ve known each other for so long at this point makes that feel… fuck. It’s strange. You’d existed in a bubble of sorts for almost the entirety of your relationship, and with him visiting you, that was coming to an end in a very final way.

“‘I’ll be fine.” He stepped up behind you, one hand on your shoulder and the other arm winding around your body to pull you back against his chest. “And so will you.” Dieter spoke into your ear, his voice quiet. “And if she flirts, I’ll shut that shit down right away, because -”

“No.” You bit your lip, turning toward him. “Don’t.” He was confused, but you didn’t let him stay that way. “I think it might be funny to watch her try to handle you.”

“Handle me?” He scoffed. “You can barely handle me and you’ve known me for over a year.” That made you laugh, and you used one hand to pat Dieter’s chest gently. “What?”

“I learned a long time ago that handling you is impossible.” You blinked slowly, trying to school your expression into nonchalance. “I tolerate you.” It took about three seconds for Dieter to respond, and when he did you caught the roll of his eyes before he leaned in, mouth meeting yours.

“That’s what you call it now?” He mumbled between kisses, his hands roaming over you. “Tolerating me?” You nodded, winding your arms around his neck and laughing against his lips. “Fucking unbelievable.”

Having Dieter in Atlanta was better than you could have ever hoped for, and it seemed like he was enjoying himself, too. You’d spent plenty of time alone together, but he’d also wanted to go out and explore, asking you to show him the parts of the city and suburbs you liked most. It was easy to blend into the larger than usual holiday crowds in public places, and when Dieter wore a hat pulled down low over his ears and slipped on a pair of glasses, it disguised him almost completely.

He wasn’t doing it on purpose, either, and that was what made it better.

You hoped that you were able to settle into LA just as easily, though you didn’t think it would happen quite so fast. We’ll see. You pulled back with a sigh, closing your eyes. “As much as I’d love to stand here and do this all night, if you want to go to this thing, I need to finish getting ready.” You looked down and then gestured to your robe and slippers. “I don’t think I pull off this look as well as you do.”

“No.” He backed away, arms dropping from you before he raised one ringed finger and pointed it at you. “You pull it off much better.” It was a joke, but at the same time, you understood that it meant that Dieter truly didn’t care what you wore or how you looked, and if you chose to actually go out in public wearing the robe, he wouldn’t have batted an eye. “But I should probably put on a shirt to go into a restaurant, so I’ll stop annoying you now and go do that.”

He winked and then turned away from you. As he made it to the doorway, you called out his name, waiting until he’d turned back in your direction to say anything else. “I never want you to stop annoying me.”

—

You’d barely taken a step into the room, and you were already ready to leave. But we’d have to wait for another Uber, and it’s surge pricing and … It wasn’t that it was loud in the room, because it wasn’t, or that it was overly crowded, because it was still early and people were filtering in - it was just that you knew exactly what you’d be dealing with for the following few hours.

Dieter was beside you when you headed over to the bar, and after you both ordered, you carried your drinks over to a small, raised table with a good vantage point. You spent a few minutes pointing people out to Dieter, but after the third “I met them in college,” you stopped, shaking your head. “Are you even going to remember any of these names if you talk to them? It’s pointless, you won’t ever see them again after tonight.”

“I will.” He sipped his drink, angling his body toward you and resting his elbow on the table. “It’s just like memorizing lines.” That made sense to you, and you were somewhat irritated that you hadn’t made the same connection.

“This feels kind of like that first Thanksgiving after high school where everyone’s home from college and pretending they didn’t just see each other a few weeks earlier.” He drank again, watching you from over the rim of his glass.

“Or like a fucking Hollywood circlejerk where everyone’s too fucking excited to tell everyone else that they know someone and can get them in touch with -” You snorted, reaching up to cover your mouth to hide your laugh.

“It’s so good to see you!” A cheerful voice interrupted Dieter, and when you looked toward the source, you saw Meg approaching the table, a necklace of blinking Christmas lights resting against her chest and highlighting the low-cut top she wore. “I’m glad you made it.” You caught the way her gaze moved from you to Dieter and barely stopped the roll of your eyes at how obvious it was. “And you, too. It -”

“Dieter Bravo.” He held his hand out, smiling. “Are you the one that organized this?” The smile stayed on his face, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Nice to meet you. Meg?” She took his hand and shook it, her giggle audible even over the music playing through the speakers.

“That’s me.” She bit her lip and tossed her hair over one shoulder. “I’ve met you before though. When you filmed here? We were eating dinner at the same restaurant, and I sent a drink over to your table.” She cleared her throat, leaning in, and for a few seconds, you were horrified at the thought that she was going to remind him of something happening between them. That would ruin everything, even though it was so long ago. “You came over and talked for a few minutes, and -”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t remember that.” He pulled his hand back, lifting his drink to sip from it. “That was a while ago, and I probably had a lot going on.” You watched her recoil slightly, Meg’s eyes dropping and then rising again to meet Dieter’s as he reached over to put his arm around you. “Thanks for the drink, though.”

It shocked you how dismissive he was being, because you’d never seen Dieter act that way before. Not even with David. “I… you’re welcome.” Meg took a long drink from her wine glass, and you could tell she was nervous - and a little surprised at his reaction. “How long are you in town for?” She looked at you then, wetting her lips. “Are you back for good? You’ve been busy; it feels like you haven’t been home since before the pandemic.” I didn’t know you kept tabs on my travels.

“I’m back for a little while.” You finally spoke, shifting your feet and shrugging your shoulders. “I just signed a new contract for the show, so I’ll be working on that starting next February.” But I won’t be doing it from here. “And Dieter’s just here for Christmas. He wanted to meet my family and couldn’t make it out last month.”

“I was filming.” He grinned again, wiggling his eyebrows. “TV show.” You knew what he was doing - trying to throw Meg off balance by flipping between being aloof and almost too friendly within the same conversation. I think it’s working. “But we’re going to LA for New Year’s, so I won’t be out here for too long.” He laughed, his fingers circling slowly against your lower back. “And between the three of us? I hope she likes LA enough to consider staying.”

His words surprised you almost as much as they surprised Meg, and you knew with certainty that that was exactly what Dieter had hoped for. Sneaky little shit. “I don’t think that’ll be a problem.” You turned your head and Dieter did the same, meeting your gaze. I see you, Bravo. “But we’ll see.”

He smirked for a second and then closed the distance between you, lips soft when they met yours. “We will.” He spoke so that only you could hear, and when you looked back at Meg a few moments later, you saw that her eyes were wide. That just confirmed everything even more than anything we’ve said here. “You married, Meg? Or dating anyone?”

It took all of your self control to keep from laughing at Dieter’s abrupt change in topic, but when she spluttered out a response and then pointed back over her shoulder, you followed the gesture, moving in your seat to see who she was pointing at. “I hope it’s not weird, but I’m here with Sam, and -”

You froze at her words, and suddenly it all made sense. Dieter stiffened beside you, and when you reached for your drink, your heart was pounding. Sam as in… fuck. It made sense - you’d all known each other for years, but no part of you had realized that Meg and Sam had kept in touch. Or that they liked each other enough to date. He told me last month that … what the fuck.

She excused herself to go and get him, and once she walked away, Dieter pivoted toward you, concern written all over his face. “You alright? That went from zero to fucking 60 in -”

“I’m fine.” You paused. “It’s going to be a little weird for you to meet the last guy I was with, but … it just took me by surprise.” Dieter’s other hand rose, fingers bent, and he trailed his knuckles against your cheek. “And she was flirting with you, just like I said she would.”

“She was, but do you blame her?” He fluttered his eyelashes, the genuine smile back on his face. “It’s me after all.” That made you laugh, some of the tension leaving your body. “And it won’t be weird. I promise.” He shrugged and then leaned in so that he could speak directly into your ear. “Think about how fucking weird it’s going to be for him to meet me, though.”

You hadn’t considered that - but he was right. It will so much weirder for Sam. Dieter kissed the space just in front of your ear before straightening up and scanning the room. You did the same, eyeing the buffet table set up a few feet away and frowning. I wish we’d stopped to grab snacks. “What was that, by the way? I’ve never seen you act that way with anyone, and I’m surprised you were so quick to pull the I’m not into this card.”

“She fucked herself over.” He sniffed and finished his drink, tossing the last swallow back before sucking an ice cube between his teeth. “Flirting is one thing but being fucking rude to you and bringing up sending over that drink? Fuck that. It’s a game to her, and that’s not what you are to me.”

His words hit hard. Dieter’s playfulness was one of the things that drew you to him, as was his sense of humor and his ability to read a situation and play off of it. But with you, from almost the beginning, he’d been honest with you, speaking his mind and giving things to you straight. He’d never led you on or made your friendship the butt of a joke, and while you hadn’t thought he would do it regarding your relationship, either, that night was proof. I needed that. I needed to know.

“Thank you, Dieter.” You reached out to take his hand, linking your fingers with his and rubbing your thumb over the ring you’d borrowed. “That means a lot.” He squeezed your hand and then lifted both of them, bringing the back of yours up so that he could kiss it. You were no stranger to Dieter’s tiny moments of intimacy, but after keeping yourselves hidden for so long, them happening in public took you by surprise.

Movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention, and you sighed as you watched Sam and Meg heading toward you, their shoulders touching as they walked side by side. You wondered how long they’d been dating, or if they’d talk about it, and then you wondered if it was strange for you to ask. But she said she was here with him, not that they were dating. Maybe I jumped to conclusions.

Sam spoke first, saying hello to you and then sticking his hand out to Dieter as he made an introduction. Dieter moved smoothly, keeping your fingers linked as he reached out to shake Sam’s with his free one. “It’s nice to meet you, Dieter.” He retracted his hand and then leaned against the table, nodding before he looked over at you. “And it’s good to see you again, too. Sorry I haven’t had a chance to get ahold of you, the holidays are just…” He rolled his eyes. “You know.”

“I do.” You exhaled slowly, giving him a wary smile before you turned your attention to Meg. “We were supposed to meet for lunch, and we just … haven’t.” She seemed surprised, her lips parting as her eyes flicked to Dieter. He doesn’t care, but nice try. “I didn’t know the two of you were still in touch.” You arched a brow and sipped your drink as your attention returned to your ex. “You didn’t say anything about it when we last talked. How’d this happen?”

“We did a lot of Zoom game nights.” Sam reached up and ran his fingers through his hair. “We couldn’t do bar trivia because everything was closed, so…” He shrugged. “Kept in touch that way for a while, and then a couple weeks ago...” Sam trailed off, and even though he looked slightly uncomfortable, he didn’t try and overexplain anything.

“We had our first few conversations over a balcony wall.” Dieter rolled his eyes. “Well, after we met in the hotel lobby, anyway. We weren’t allowed to leave our rooms for two weeks before we started working on the movie, and she was in the room next door.”

“You make it sound like you settled for talking to me, Dieter.” Nudging him with your shoulder, you laughed. “Ouch.”

“You were quarantined with him?” Meg leaned in, her attention fully on you. “Oh, I didn’t know that.”

“It’s all going to be talked about in the documentary.” You scratched the side of your neck. “I can’t really go into it now, but yeah. I only got the job working for Cliff Beasts because I got sick filming my show, and got stuck in the hotel. So I actually ended my quarantine just as the cast got there to start theirs, and it all worked out.”

“I’d sit on my balcony and watch her walking around the hotel property.” Dieter let go of your hand and put both of his on the table. “She was the only one that wasn’t hotel staff that wasn’t stuck in their damn room. It was fucking depressing.”

“We got through it, though.” You finished your drink, too, and then pushed the empty glass to the center of the table. “And now we’re here.” Sam nodded, eyeing you and then looking over at Dieter. What are you thinking about?

“Is it weird for you, Dieter?” He smiled, nose wrinkling. “To be standing here, talking to -”

“No.” There was no gestation on Dieter’s part when he answered, the hand that had been holding yours moving to your back. “Not at all. I’ve heard a lot about you, and I figured we’d meet at some point.” That surprised Sam - and Meg, too, the woman sucking in a breath as she straightened up. “And since we’re out of here in a couple days, now’s as good a time as any.”

“She’s going to Los Angeles for New Year’s.” Meg reached over and touched Sam’s arm. “And maybe for longer.” Well shit. You hadn’t counted on her bringing it up again so quickly - or having to explain yourself to your ex. But I’m going to have to tell my family so fuck it, I guess.

But as silence hung between the four of you, you felt yourself sway, anxiety building in your chest. It’s too much. It’s happening too fast.

“Well, this whole thing is weird for me, to be perfectly honest.” You reached for your glass again, picking it up and then staring down into it, like your wish for a refill would make one appear. “But yes. Meg’s right. Christmas in Georgia. New Year’s and beyond in California.” You set the glass down and then backed up, lifting both hands. “Right now, though? I’m going to get another drink.”

You left the table without saying anything else, heart pounding in your chest while you headed for the bar. What the fuck was that? You’d gone from being totally at ease and joking around with Dieter to being overwhelmed in seconds, even though you had no real reason to be.

It wasn’t that telling Sam bothered you. It wasn’t even that the two men were face to face. So what is it then? Why do I feel this way? You ordered your drink and then waited patiently, fingertips tapping on the bartop.

“Are you Dieter Bravo?” A woman’s high-pitched voice reached your ears, and when you turned toward the sound, drink in hand, you saw that one of the other party guests was gaping at Dieter, who stood a few feet away, one hand in his pocket. “I loved you in -”

“Yes. I am. Thanks.” He flashed her a quick smile, and then pointed at you. “I’m just trying to get to my girlfriend, though.” It was the first time he’d referred to you in that way, and even though the crowd was loud, you heard him clearly. He called me his …

Your unease faded as Dieter approached you, concern in his eyes. “Dieter, I -”

“Come on.” He reached out, taking your hand and leading you away from the bar. “Come with me.” He opened a door that you hadn’t noticed that led out into a back hallway. Once the door shut behind you, he backed away and leaned against the wall, loosely crossing his arms. “I’m not going to ask if you’re alright, but I’m going to ask if this is better.”

“Yes.” You closed your eyes and nodded. It is. “Yeah, Dieter, I don’t … I don’t know what happened in there. It -”

“I know exactly what happened.” He said your name, waiting until you opened your eyes to say anything more. “You got ambushed. And you had to answer questions you weren’t expecting because you shouldn’t have expected ‘em five minutes after you walked into a Christmas party.” He moved closer to you, reaching for the drink you held and taking it from you. “It wasn’t what you answered that fucked you up, it was that you felt like you had to tell them anything in the first place.” He took a drink and then handed it back to you, waiting.

“I didn’t have to answer. I could have changed the subject. I should have. But when she said she was here with Sam, it threw me off, and I felt like I should say something back.” You couldn’t even pinpoint why, exactly, but it was the truth. “Dieter, what if this happens in California? These are just people I know. Out there, it’ll be people you’ve worked with or might work with in the -”

“I don’t care.” He reached for you, putting one hand on each shoulder and squeezing. “I won’t care. Say whatever the fuck you want. That’s what I’ve done for my entire career.”

“But I’m not you.” You felt tears welling up in your eyes. “And if this is what happens to me at a party like this with people I know, LA is going to … fuck, Dieter. What if I fuck it all up? I’m going to embarrass you.” That’s it. This… this makes it real, and when it’s real, it might fail, and I don’t want that failure to be my fault.

“It takes a hell of a lot to embarrass me.” Leaning in, he pressed his forehead to yours and shook his head slowly. “I almost fucking died in front of you, and you’re worried about saying too much or the wrong thing to someone you may never see again? Fuck that. And fuck anyone that makes you feel like that.” Dieter’s hands slid from your shoulders to your biceps, the motion soothing. “Sam congratulated us, by the way. And I think it surprised Meg that he’s cool with it, but they still walked away together, so… who knows.”

That made you laugh, and after you took a deep breath to steady yourself, you cleared your throat. “Maybe she thought that I’d get jealous seeing them together, and it would leave you free.” He widened his eyes and then made a face. What, is she not your type? “I heard what you called me by the bar, Dieter. I … I didn’t realize how much I’d like hearing that.”

“After telling you I love you, calling you my girlfriend seems pretty damn inadequate, but…” He lifted and then dropped his shoulders in an exaggerated shrug. “For now, it’s the truth.” For now? What does that mean? “It’s going to be fine. All of it. I don’t care if every single one of those people out there fucking hates me. I’m here for you and for your family. They’re the important ones.”

Dieter wet his lips and then pulled the lower one back between his teeth, frowning as he eyed you. “What?” You took a small drink, swallowing and then taking a deep breath. “What’s that look for, Dieter?”

“I knew what coming out here meant.” He gestured at the door behind you with one hand, his rings catching the light, silver flashing as his hand moved. “I knew that being here unannounced and ‘unplanned’ was going to get people talking. I can handle it, because I’m used to it, but I didn’t… fuck, I didn’t think about you not being used to it or the attention or the questions. I’m fucking sorry. I should have. I’ve been deflecting bullshit for years, and it’s like breathing for me, but you … shit.”

“Dieter, no, it’s fine. I’m… I’m going to have to get used to it, right?” You rubbed at the bridge of your nose with two fingers, sighing. “There’s a public aspect that comes along with being with you, and even though some people are familiar with me, if I go places or to premieres or events with you, I’m going to get asked questions, and -”

“If?” He scoffed, his smile returning as he stepped closer. “You’re not gonna be able to get rid of me that easy. As far as I’m concerned, you’re coming to everything with me.” What? Is he serious? “So get ready for it.”

That made you laugh, and as the sound escaped your lips, you realized that you actually felt better. You were calmer and more collected, your heartbeat almost back to normal. “I love you, Dieter. I didn’t mean to … I don’t know. It’s just a lot.”

“It is.” He slid one arm around your waist, the other going around your shoulders as he pulled you in for a hug. “And I’ve got a secret to tell you.” He kissed your cheek before turning his head, his stubbled cheek rubbing against yours as his lips moved to hover just over your ear. “I’ve never cared so much about whether or not something goes well in my entire life.” He paused, and despite the muffled noise of the party just beyond the hallway, you heard that his inhale was shaky. “So you’re not gonna fuck this up. That’s not even an option.”

“If you say so.” His words stunned you, but you believed them, and could feel the sincerity pouring off of Dieter as he held you close. “Thank you. I know this isn’t how you wanted to spend tonight, so…” You nuzzled against his cheek, tightening your arms and being careful not to spill your drink down his back. “I appreciate it.”

When you separated a few seconds later, the two of you took deep breaths, but it was Dieter who spoke first. “Do you want to leave?” He shrugged. “We can stop on the way home for food, or just go back and order something.” He paused, cocking his head to the side and then grinning at you. “Or, do you want to stay and spend the next couple hours listening to me come up with new bullshit stories about making movies and filming TV shows and being friends with half of Hollywood?”

He was giving you an out - two of them, if you were truthful. Because if you left, you’d both have a relaxing night in your apartment doing what you were already so comfortable with. And if you stayed, he’d volunteered to do the heavy lifting for you with the party crowd, turning on the charm and keeping them occupied. It took a lot out of him - and you both knew it - but you also knew that Dieter wouldn’t have made the offer if he hadn’t wanted to. He’d do that for me.

“How about this.” You flattened one hand on his chest, and then used two fingers to undo another button on his shirt. “We go back out there and get something to eat and mingle for a little while.” He nodded slowly, eyes locked with yours. “And then, when you’re ready to leave, you tell me it’s time, and I’ll walk out of here with no questions asked.”

“You sure?”

“I am.” Sliding your fingertips under his shirt, you rested them over his heart. “I just needed a minute, Dieter. It got real all of a sudden, and I wasn’t expecting it to.”

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. “I know.” He nodded twice. “I’ve been there.” When he backed up, you let your hand drop from his body. But Dieter didn’t let it fall all the way, catching it and linking your fingers together. “But the difference is that I didn’t have someone like me to step in.”

He didn’t say anything more, but he did turn and head for the door without letting go. His words hit you hard; it was always the little things that he added as almost an afterthought that impacted you the most. He revealed the most about himself in small doses - Dieter’s admissions giving you a more thorough picture of exactly what his younger years had been like. And he trusts me enough to tell me the truth.

You’d need his help navigating the new - and much more public - lifestyle that being with him would bring, and you both knew it. Nights like that one and other firsts would be difficult for you, but as you re-entered the party, the music and sounds of people talking growing louder, you understood that it wouldn’t always be that way.

The two of you joined the small crowd around the buffet table, and Dieter finally let go of your hand to reach for a plate, handing it over to you before taking one of his own. You watched him fill it with finger foods and dips, turning his head and making an offhand comment to the man next to him, both of them laughing as they reached for pretzels.

He fits in here. It was the final thing you needed to calm yourself entirely, and when he looked over at you, his smile wide, and winked, you laughed too. He can do this, and so can I. It would take time and effort to make your relationship work, but it was worth it. No question there.

And the more comfortable you became with things, the more both of you would be able to relax and just enjoy being together - as you had in the months you’d spent getting to know each other. Once all of the formalities - and introductions - were done, it would be easier to focus on the future, whatever that entailed.

And you might not have had anyone before, Dieter … but now you do.

—

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