#so much disappointment in those 8 hours

[oreo-cookies-fan]

So basically me during this season:

A dark silhouette in the Fold: *is on the screen*

Me: Ivan?

Darkling: And the other thing?

Me: Ivan?

Nadia: But you won't like who else is here.

Me: Ivan?

[burntchickenlookingass]

No cuz im not done talking about ffcc

[seneon]

waiting for hours ──── seishiro nagi x fem! reader.

about. in which, nagi awaits your arrival at home for hours. pure fluff oneshot. wc of 1.2k.

notes. this is like, the highest rated chapter in my my oneshot book in wattpad. so im slapping this in tumblr too and happy belated bday to koala boy!! for @hyoismbbg ♡

𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐀𝐘 was the first time during this year that nagi was able to arrive home early from his football practice. and by early, earlier than the time his lover's work finishes.

he freshened himself up, ate some food in the fridge and waited. it was 8:42pm, almost an hour and a half for you to finish your work.

the football player, now playing for a professional team, was basically bored out of his mind. he could play games until you've returned, but the man had played every game in the universe.he could watch anime, movies or anything. but those would bore him instantly.

honestly, everything is boring to him nowadays. the only thing that would keep him entertained is football and you.

you were practically the same as him, a lazy person who somehow managed to be a successful writer and be in a relationship with another lazy athlete.

nagi waited and waited and waited. for what seemed like hours, he kept waiting for your presence to shine in his day. but every time he checked the clock, only a few minutes passed from the previous.

as tired as the white-haired male is, he decided to make you some simple yet cute supper, prepare your essentials for when you returned from work. nagi even set up your little table in your shared room by the window for when you read or do some planning for tomorrow.

he eventually lost track of time while trying to make everything in the house perfect so you didn't have to do anything else when you came home. an hour or so had passed, and nagi still didn't hear the door twist open.

you yawned, tired from the meeting you had at your publishing company. really, sometimes you wish you could boss around rude people and shut them up from their shitty opinions. but business is business. and rude people didn't really matter anyways.

you set everything the way it is, and stop in your tracks when you see the kitchen counter filled with a plate of delicious food.

the apartment looked pretty neat and clean too. when you looked around in suspicion and curiousity, some of the recognisable things belonging to your boyfriend were laying around freely.

that was when a smile crawled up your cheeks. your mind traveled to nagi who prepared the food and cleaned up the house— just as he walked out the room, an annoyed expression on his face.

"i thought you were never coming home, after i prepared everything for you," he pouted with a poker face, definitely disappointed at how late you arrived home.

"ah— my bad. thank you. you're home early," you shot him a lazy smile before he walked towards you and pulled you into a lazy hug, completely embracing you in his huge form.

"yeah, practice kinda got canceled because coach's wife got into trouble.”

since you were way tinier than him, you practically squished under his body, melting in the warmth of your lazy, sweet loving boyfriend.

he smelled like mint and fresh sugary frosting, from the body wash you gave to him as a present on his birthday. it was a scent that pulled you in so much it froze and destroyed all the negative comments that were written about your books.

as much as you didn't want to separate the hug, nagi gently plucked himself away from you, sternly looking into your eyes.

"eat, and go take a bath. then we can sleep together. practice might be cancelled tomorrow too if coach's wife's trouble is still ongoing.." he trailed off and shook his head. "ehh whatever just go. i made food for you without burning the kitchen and prepared stuff for you in the room."

you chuckled and nodded your head repeatedly, trying to keep in the laugh with his ridiculously sarcastic get funny words. pretty much whatever nagi said could be funny to you.

"i won't doubt your effort. thank you again," you tiptoed and gave him a quick peck on the lips, heading over to the kitchen counter to eat your supper.

the peck made nagi blush. it was the first kiss you gave him this week. it is monday night, the start of the week. and you kissed him yesterday. hah. humour. nagi keeps track of kisses he gets from you.

anyways, he wanted more kisses from you later so he watched you eat while conversing a little about both your writer job and athlete jobs.

then, he waited for you to take your bath, freshen up before you bailed out your little window corner and jumped into bed with nagi.

"thank you, sei," you thanked him again, as he buried his face into your hair, inhaling the fresh scent of your shampoo. "you've thanked me three times already. you're welcome though..."

your fingers moved to lace themselves in the soft fluffy hair of the male, moving around to ruffle and gently play with it.

nagi's hair was fairly soft, like cotton candy that would melt when it came in contact with liquid. it could even be on par with the clouds albeit you've never felt clouds before. but you just know it was more soft and fluffy than anything else.

you found it awfully cute that his love language is physical touch, so much that you often see him as a cat. and for a fact that nagi only needs and wants your attention, not from anyone else because you are everything to him.

the male hummed when your fingers played with his hair, an odd calmness filling over the mind and body of the athlete. you always managed to calm him down, physically and mentally. he loved that it was a good trait of you that he fell in love with.

"i love you," he said against your neck, his breath touching your skin as you couldn't help but smile at his words. he was random, sure, but you know when nagi was being genuine and sarcastic. now, he meant every word of it.

"i love you too," you replied softly, your fingers moving, trailing down to his cheeks to caress his chiseled jawline and softly stroke his cheeks.

such a work of art, you thought to yourself when you faced him and looked into his eyes.

how could a man be as angelic as your boyfriend?

you felt so blessed to have nagi in your life, never regretting that you made the first move for being friends and eventually he would later on give you a lazy confession that was conducted by his friend, reo.

"you're really beautiful, love," he felt himself smile when the both of you were staring into each other's eyes lovingly. "so beautiful.."

"and you're very handsome," you chuckled, going closer to his face. you kept the tiny distance for a moment, having a small time to admire nagi's grey eyes.

nagi then closed the distance between you both, his lips ever so softly closing in on yours to give you a lovely kiss.

it was filled with the purest intentions of showing how much he loves you, nothing else than an innocent kiss that was focused on appreciation and love.

you both pulled away at the same time, your arms wrapping around his neck as his own snaking around your waist to pull you close.

gosh, you love hugs when it comes to your lazy gigantic boyfriend. he always gives you the best ones.

"let's sleep now, okay?" he placed a soft kiss on your forehead, letting you reply with a nod before pulling the soft blanket over you two.

"i've been waiting for hours to cuddle you to sleep. good night, y/n.”

© SENEON 2024 ♰ do not repost, alter, or translate.

[noosayog]

004 logical

✧ wc: 2.5k

✧ warnings/content: oikawa toru x reader, no gendered pronouns used but please lmk if I missed any! sfw, angst to fluff, another breaking up making up fic, long distance relationship

✧ GUTS masterlist, regular masterlist

divider from @/cafekitsune

“I don’t think this is working out.” 

When Oikawa hears those words, marred by phone static, he drops the remote from his left hand and his fork from his right. 

“Baby,” he says cautiously, disoriented. “It’s just a few more days.” 

There’s a moment of silence. Oikawa picks up the phone and presses it to his ear. 

“It’s not just that,” you say quietly. “How much longer are we going to do this – not seeing each other, missing calls, postponing flights? Even when we’re talking, we’re not fully focused on each other.” 

“That’s not true,” he immediately protests. 

“Yes, it is. Were you not just watching a game and eating right before this?” 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not fully focused on you.” 

“Yes, Toru. It does.” 

He has so much to say, yet none of it seems to come out. Nothing seems appropriate. 

You sigh again. “Just… stay, Toru. Stay there. You don’t have to fly back to Japan for me. I know volleyball’s important for you.” 

When he says nothing, you go on. “But I hate the way this makes me feel. Like I’m asking you to give up what you love to fly across the globe just to see me for a few days.”

“You’re not. I want to-” 

“Toru.” 

His mouth clamps shut. 

“Last time you came back to Japan, you missed a last-minute practice match with that coach you’ve been wanting to work with. Last time I came to you, I spent 2 of the 4 days I was there alone because you had another last minute volleyball thing. Even when we invest the time to see each other, we’re not really… there.” 

Oikawa knows; he knows. 

“So let’s just… not.” 

He knows, but that doesn’t mean he wants to… not. 

“Just hold on a couple more days, okay?” he asks, trying his hardest not to beg and whimper. “Just a couple of days, and I’ll be back in Japan and we can talk, figure something out.” 

“Toru…” 

“Please, wait for me.” 

“I don’t know if I have that in me anymore.” 

The coldness of your words seize his chest. 

Hearing nothing more from him, you sign off with finality, “Good bye, Toru.”

And the line cuts off. 

–

Today is Friday, the beginning of the 3-day long exchange scrimmages with the visiting Brazilian and Chilean pro teams. Duffle bag tossed on the floor by his feet, Oikawa flops on the couch, downing the remainder of his protein shake. The bright screen of his laptop stares back at him, email confirmation of his flight change there to reprimand him, remind him. 

Your Flight AE344 to Haneda International Airport for Thursday, February 8th has been canceled. 

You’re booked for Flight AE267 to Haneda International Airport for Monday, February 12th! See you soon! 

After you had hung up, he gave you a call back. You didn’t answer. He tried again an hour later, then 2, then 12. He had listened to the line ring, for exactly 20 seconds, 8 rings, before banishing him to your unset-up voicemail. 

Shutting the laptop screen, he picks up his duffle and is out the door. After all, if he didn’t show up to the scrimmage, what would this have all been for? 

–

Friday night arrives, and despite how tired he is, physically from all the exercise and mentally from all the socialization with the visiting players, you wander through his mind. He supposes this is hardly surprising, given you’ve always been his place of rest, regardless of the physical distance, sheer kilometers between the two of you. 

Almost afraid to look, he checks his phone and immense disappointment and an increasingly familiar emptiness fill his chest when he sees nothing from you. 

He tries your phone again. It rings, rings, and rings and there’s no reward, your voice waiting at the other end.

He showers, eats a quick dinner, and meal preps for Saturday’s scrimmage. Busying himself works momentarily, but at 9PM, his phone alarm goes off, reminding him that it’s time to call you. For the past year, his routine has been talking on the phone with you every night at 9PM. No matter where he is, at a bar with teammates, at dinner with friends, or late night practice, he always takes at least 10 minutes to talk to you. 

When the two of you first established this, the agreed upon time was 10PM for him, 10AM for you. The two of you used to compete to see who could call who first. The first night, you called the exact second the clock struck 10. So the next night, Oikawa called at 9:59. Then the following night, you called at 9:58. And it went on until the two of you begrudgingly came to a truce that you’d alternate nights. 

And tonight is your night. 

Five minutes after 9, Oikawa knows the call isn’t coming. 

–

Late Friday night – or technically early Saturday morning – Oikawa lays awake in bed wondering how the hell it all went down the way it did. It hasn’t even been a full year since the two of you started to do long-distance. And he’s still confused. He’s confused because he thought the two of you were doing the best you could be. He’s confused because he’s never even thought about the possibility of not being with you. 

He twists over to lay on his side, facing his phone screen, open at your contact. His thumbs hover over your name for the nth time that night, only for him to flop back on his back, turning now to the other side, your side. It hits him then that he can’t even remember the feeling of you in that bed, the last time you kissed. If he had known that would be the last time, he would've savored it all the more. He’d burn the memory into his nerves, just so he could remember the feeling. Volleyball was all muscle memory; he never thought he’d need to commit you as well. 

Before he knows it, morning arrives. He starts to get ready. 

He brushes his teeth, packs his gym bag, and starts to eat breakfast. 

His legs shake, knees bouncing up and down in a nervous tick that hasn’t shown itself since high school. His laptop screen is up again, the flight ticket once again flashing bright. 

It’s a reminder. Now he knows that when it’s not reciprocal, the distance between the two of you is so much more than 18,000 kilometers and 12 hours. There’s no phone line, no facetime to shorten that distance, even if just by perception. 

Then, it’s a striking thought: a realization that postponing a plane ride those few days could cost him a lifetime.

He dials your number again. 

It rings, and rings, and rings. 

“... Hello?” 

“You picked up,” he hears himself say. 

“Sorry I missed yesterday, Toru.” He knows what you’re referring to without you saying it. “And I’m sorry I hung up… like that.” 

There’s a lot to say, but he can’t do it like this. So he asks, “will you wait for me to come home?” 

“Toru…” your voice breaks with the syllables of his name. He hears the reluctance in your tone. 

“If you want to break up, if you truly want to stop being with me,” it takes monumental effort for Oikawa to even speak of such an event. “Then say it to me in person. I have to know.” 

You’re silent in response. He’s glad you aren’t refusing, saying that the flight, the cost, the time isn’t worth itt. He’s glad that you agree it’s still a worthwhile conversation to have in person. He’s glad you haven’t given up. 

“Wait for me, okay? Please.” 

It takes a few simple clicks and a significant chunk of his savings to do what he does next. 

– 

For the entirety of the flight to Haneda International, Oikawa’s knees bounce, colliding uncomfortably with the seat in front of him. Even with what little affirmation you gave him by simply picking up his call, it brings him little comfort as there’s absolutely nothing he could do for the next 28 hours but sit tight. 

When the plane lands safely in Tokyo, local time of 9PM Sunday, Oikawa charms his way into getting off the plane first. He flashes a weak smile at all the people still in their seats of the plane, before rushing off with only his carry-on in tow. There’s no time to wait for a bus, so he shoves his way to the front of the taxi line, reciting your address as if it hadn’t been over 4 months since he’s been there. 

Every passing moment does little to ease his nerves, exacerbated even up until the moment he arrives at your door. The seconds pass in loud silence, the hollow sound of his knocking ringing in his ears. 

All the white noise fades, though, when the door opens and reveals you. No matter that your eyes are red and swollen, no matter that you’re wearing one of his old ratty Seijoh sweaters, no matter that the two of you are supposed to be breaking up.

“Toru,” you breathe. Oikawa forgets you’re supposed to sound like this, not the distorted, muffled imitation of your voice he hears through the phone too often. Yet another addition to his growing list of realizations. 

“What are you doing here?” 

He doesn’t know where it comes from, but a single heave of a laughter bursts from his chest. “I told you I wanted to see you, didn’t I?” 

“But… your flight wasn’t supposed to arrive until Wednesday.” You’re cautious and he hates that. He wants you to be uncaring of the emotions you show around him, to jump into his arms and forgive him. He wants it back. 

“I changed my flight.” 

“But volleyball…” 

“That’s the thing,” he starts. “I think that’s probably one of the things I never made clear to you.” 

You look at him, confused. 

“Can I come in?” 

It stings when you instinctively fold your arms over your chest protectively, eyes briefly leaving him to look at the ground. 

 “Will you let me in?” he tries again. 

You look back up at him, moving to the side to let him in. 

When the door clicks shut behind him, the first thing Oikawa does is wrap you up in his embrace. His arms engulf you. He forces his hold to be gentle, on the chance that you push away. You don’t, so he holds on tighter and tighter, until you squeak from the pressure. He thinks he mumbles an apology, but he’s not really sure because all he registers is your arms coming up to grab his sweater. 

It’s not enough. 

You let him just hold you, for how long, he doesn’t know, until you finally squeak out his name. He reluctantly pulls away and starts talking, as if he wants to get the talking part over as fast as possible so he can pull you right back in again. 

“The thing I wanted to tell you,” he continues from before. “There’s no comparison – between you and volleyball, I mean.” 

“Toru, you know that’s not true.” 

Yes, it is,” he insists. “I’ve never seen volleyball as something that takes away from time that belongs to you. Every time you come to see me, or I go to see you, or when I push a flight, I’ve always seen that as just a… postponement of our time together, never that it would take away from it.” 

“Toru…” you push further away. 

“But, I think I get it now. I get that phone calls, video calls, text messages can’t be a substitute. I know because I almost forgot how your voice sounds outside of a phone and because I can’t accept us breaking up through a screen. And even more so because I can’t live off of the memory of how you feel.” 

When your gaze softens, he knows he got it right. It only took all this time for him to understand what you meant when you said things weren’t working; it was never about a postponed flight. 

“I’m sorry it took me so long to get it.” 

Your palm comes up to cup his face. Your thumb brushes a wet spot on his cheek. “Oh, Toru. I would never make you compare, I thought you knew that.” 

“I know,” he says. I know. And he does. 

“Sometimes, I just need to know you miss me as much as I miss you. I know you love volleyball,” 

“I love you,” he interrupts. 

“I know you love volleyball,” you continue. “And I would never want you to feel like you had to give any of it up for me. I just need to know that you feel what I feel too.” 

His hands at your waist squeeze, like he’s reassuring you that he does. 

“I know that you won’t be playing in Argentina forever. I was prepared to deal with long-distance for as long as it takes for you to be ready to come home. But-” 

He shakes his head like he doesn’t need you to say it. 

“No, let me say this. But, sometimes it felt like you were settling for how we were. Then… when you postponed the flight, I guess I was just bummed because I was so excited to see you. But you acted like it wasn’t a big deal.” 

Yeah, he did, didn’t he. 

“It felt like you would be just fine substituting me for the sport.” 

“Yeah,” he agrees. 

There’s so much to explain and he’s afraid it would take too long. He needs to tell you that’s not how he feels and that it’s not true at all. And perhaps he’s become self-aware of his ability to grow numb to things like homesickness and he tried to apply that to you too so that he wouldn’t be crippled by the sheer magnitude of how much he truly missed – misses – you. And how appalled he was when he realized he was associating you with memories and nostalgia, as if you were a had-been and not a still-is. 

But you seem to understand because your hands are still gentle on his face and your gaze is affectionate. 

“Stop crying, you baby.” 

“I’m not crying!” he denies. 

“If you don’t stop crying, I won’t kiss you,” you tease. 

He clams up, biting on his lips to stop the hiccups. His eyes roll upwards to the ceiling, willing any tears to stop overflowing. 

You laugh lightly at the sight, voice still clearly weak from your crying marathon. 

He has a lot to apologize for, doesn’t he.

You lean upwards for a kiss. It catches him off guard to this day, how much you can express in your gentle affection. It’s another thing he can’t feel through a screen. 

With each kiss you press on his lips, he counts the things he has to apologize for, but more importantly he counts the things he needs to tell you he misses and loves about you when he inevitably puts the 18,000 kilometers between the two of you again. 

And he’ll do it. Every day. Until the day he finally comes home.

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

Christmas in paradise

Summary: After a PR nightmare Clara "kidnaps" her client and best friend Dieter Bravo to a private luxury island to spend six weeks away from all the glitz and glam of Hollywood. Spending so much time together one on one might finally lead to confessions that will make them more than just friends...

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC named Clara

Wordcount: 10.8k

Rating: E

Warnings: friends to lovers, Dieter being involved in a PR Nightmare, humour, fluff, cooking, getting sober, feelings, kissing, skinny dipping, smut (protected sex, oral sex), happy end

A/N: With all those pics of Pedro on vacation coming out you would think I started writing this fic in the last couple days when actually, I started this fic in November 2023. This is my longest one shot yet, and I hope it does not disappoint!

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Full Masterlist // Dieter Bravo Masterlist

Clara’s days start early.

They always did. 

Her alarm woke her at 6 am (on good days), she got out of bed, took a shower and drank her first cup of coffee. Had breakfast on her way to the office where she drank her second cup. 

Then after 8-12 hours (sometimes 15 hour days) in her office dealing with her clients she made her way back home, getting take out on her way back. Where she would eat and then fall asleep in front of her TV.

Those were good days. Days Clara preferred. Sometimes she even got free days for herself where she could go and meet her friends (the few she still had) or get a massage at her favourite spa.

She once met Kate Walsh while in the spa and while Clara dealt with celebrities on the daily, thanks to the girlcrush she had on Kate she couldn’t even form a sentence to introduce herself. 

Good days were there. Occasionally. 

But… there were clients who made her life a little more… complicated. Which honestly was the part of her job she enjoyed up to a certain degree. 

That was what PR was for. Dealing with the outside perspective and well… scandals. 

She was married to her job which was why her actual husband, David, felt the need to search for someone who could…. Fulfil his needs more than Clara could. 

The divorce had been unpleasant. 

David and her had been highschool sweethearts, which meant there was no prenup. David had big plans back in college, wanting to open up his own law firm, and become a big name. And even though he was a law student the last thing both thought about at the age of 20 was signing a prenup. 

15 years later Clara came to regret that decision. While David was a more or less successful lawyer, her career had gone through the roof with her own PR Firm and office on the upper west side in New York and in downtown Los Angeles. 

David might have been the one who cheated on her and ended the marriage, but he made sure to take half of everything she owned with him when he left. And the worst part of it was, she didn’t even care. 

Instead on the evening after they had finalised their divorce she went out to dinner with a client of hers. 

Well… he was more like a best friend, yet definitely a client. Probably the most exhausting client she had, but one of her closest friends at the same time. 

Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Clara have known each other their whole life. 

They lived on the same street growing up.

They went to the same school 

They both moved to New York at the same time. 

But they only really got to know each other when Dieter was fired from his first manager after he was caught with well… his managers wife in the restroom of a restaurant. 

It was actually Clara’s mother who had called her and given her Dieter’s number. 

Clara signed Dieter as a client and he became like a…. Pimple that wouldn’t go away. In a very nice way. If pimples could be nice.

It was him who was there for her after the divorce. 

Sighing she rolled her head as she sat at her desk, her sixth coffee of the day cold in the mug that said “I’d rather be with Dieter Bravo” that he gifted her a couple years back as a Christmas gift. 

There was a knock on the door and she looked up, her assistant slowly stepping in with a sorry expression, a big bouquet of Peonies in her arms. 

Clara groaned loudly as her assistant set down the flowers in front of her. 

“When did they get delivered?” Clara asked.

“About fifteen minutes ago,” she said. Clara already felt the nerves fluttering in her belly. She never got flowers. The only person who sent flowers was Dieter when he fucked up. 

“Did… Is there any news out yet on what he’s done now?” Clara asked. Her assistant shook her head. 

“But this is… a big bouquet. Bigger than the last time and…”

“It’s my favourite flowers,” Clara sighed, glancing at the clock. 

It was after 5pm already. 

“He sent me flowers too,” her assistant said and Clara blinked at her, slowly. 

“And there’s also lemon sponge cake from the Magnolia Bakery outside….”

Clara took a deep breath, before she reached for her phone. 

“What did he do now?” Clara asked herself with a sigh. 

“I’m going to check all sources and stay in late,” her Assistant said. Clara smiled at her as she looked up. 

“Thank you. Order Pizza too. Whatever he had done now might end up with a night shift. You don’t have to stay though, you know that right?” Clara asked. 

“I know. But my girlfriend is out of town so… nothing else I have planned for tonight anyway.”

“You deserve a raise,” Clara winked.

“Wouldn’t say no to that. You want me to bring the cake in?”

“Let me call him first. Maybe I’ll need the cake to throw it at him when he gets here.”

Clara’s assistant laughed before she left her alone, her phone in her hand. 

Clara unlocked her phone, opening the contacts to search for Dieter’s name, her thump hovering over his name. 

He hadn’t called yet. 

Usually he would have at least tried to call her by now.

Taking a deep breath she pressed the dial button, bringing her phone up to her ear. 

Dieter was in panic mode.

And for Dieter to hit panic mode, he must have really fucked up. 

But this? This was not even entirely his fault? It happened at his house though which was more than enough. 

It also happened while he was in his house.

At his party. 

With way too many people around he didn’t even know. 

But the line of coke (or two) and some champagne made Dieter forget about how shitty he felt. 

It was high Dieter who fucked up. High Dieter did not think about sober Dieter having to deal with his shit.

Well, high and horny Dieter. Which was…. Daily Dieter. But coke high Dieter was different from weed high Dieter. 

And he was always horny really.

Anyways…

The news broke twenty minutes after he had gotten off the phone with Clara. 

“Senator O’Conelly overdosed at Dieter Bravo’s house party”

Which was something Clara could have handled. But then three hours later came:

“Exclusive: Senator O’Conelly’s wife was having sex with Dieter Bravo while the Senator overdosed”

Which…. Was harder to handle, but Clara was the best at her job, so she had a response prepared.

But then came:

“Leaked: Dieter Bravo’s Sextape”

Which wasn’t a first. It was just the first time he did not know he’d been filmed. Mostly because he was so high, he did not care. 

And this time it was in HD which made “Dieter Bravo Penis” the most googled topic for four days straight.

The senator had fucked Dieter so hard just before he overdosed, he still had bruises from his grip on his waist. Him fucking the senators very willing wife while said Senator overdosed was not Dieter’s fault though. 

And while his PR team tried to handle it, there was only so much they could do once the Senator’s wife gave a very tearful interview making Dieter the one who was responsible for putting the Senator in a coma. 

She conveniently left out how she had sniffed a line of coke herself while he was getting fucked by her husband. 

The only reason the news hadn’t broken earlier was because the Senator’s PR wanted to keep this under wraps but failed because someone on the party had taken photos. And that video.

Fucking Gen Z. Or… whatever. 

While there had been scandals around Dieter in the past, and a lot of them, the shit storm this one turned out to be, seemed not to end that soon. 

Of course the Senators PR Team pinned the whole story with him as the boogeyman. 

Dieter had a reputation so it wasn’t that hard. 

What was hard was him being forced to drop out of the HBO series he had signed because of the backlash. Or losing the Deal with Kit Kat. 

God the Kit Kat deal. He would be missing the weekly care packages. 

But the hardest was the disappointed look in Clara’s eyes whenever they face-timed. 

He could deal with almost everything, but Clara being disappointed? He couldn’t even explain why it was hitting him so hard, the one worded answers from her and the obviously acted smile she threw his way. 

Clara had become what he would call best friend. If he had friends.

She’s been with him through thick and thin (okay mostly because it was her job to fix his shit) but somewhere along the way the phone calls became more private than professional. He made sure to always have her favourite tea stocked at home for whenever she was in town and… something just wasn’t right when he wouldn’t hear from her every day. 

He’d taken a whole month off once she told him about her divorce and practically moved in with her. 

It was the last time he had been mostly clean. 

Apart from alcohol and weed, but that did not count anyway did it?

“We’re here Mister Bravo,” Dieter looked up at the driver, nodding once at him. 

Dieter had no idea where he would be going. He only got Clara’s message that a car would pick him up at 4:30 am and that she already instructed his PA to pack his suitcases. 

Maybe she was planning to kill him and frankly, he wouldn’t even blame her. What were the suitcases for then though?

Dieter got out of the car, finding himself already on the airfield of the small airport, the car close to a private jet. He saw two younger men carry his suitcases out of the car and put them into the trunk of the plane. 

Dieter looked up into the dark sky, taking a deep breath before he made his way towards the stairs leading into the plane. 

A grin sneaked to his face when he saw Clara sitting already cozied up into a deep blue blanket, her dark hair in a bun on top of her head. Her head turned towards him as she heard footsteps and she sighed exhausted, yet could not fight the smile. 

“One day you are going to be the death of me, Dieter Bravo,” she shook her head and got up to her feet, Dieter meeting her halfway to hug her close and kiss her cheek. She wanted to let go, but he kept his arms around her. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered and Clara squeezed him. 

“I know you are,” she whispered, kissing his cheek.

„You gonna throw me out of the plane over the ocean?“ He teased and she rolled her eyes. 

„Don’t give me any ideas,“ she scoffed. 

They both settled into their seats, taking their shoes off as the crew got through the routine of getting ready to take off. 

“So where are you kidnapping me to?” Dieter asked, pulling his glasses off. Clara looked at him. 

“You’re paying for this, so I don’t know if that counts as kidnapping.”

“True.”

“You have to get off the radar of the tabloids. And while I know I could just…. Make you stay at home or force you to another stay at a rehab clinic, I don't really trust you to just stay there by yourself. I know you too well,” she began. 

“So I booked you a 6 week stay on Gladden island. And I’ll be babysitting you.”

“On an island.”

“A tropical private island with 24 hour service.”

Dieter gave her a look. 

“Before you say anything, think about me having to put out a official statement about your penis. Again,” she raised her left eyebrow. 

“But it’s a nice looking penis,” he mumbled with a small pout and Clara groaned. 

“Okay, okay, okay. Six weeks. Private Island. Check.”

“No internet. No drugs. No hookers.”

Dieter pouted even more. 

“You know I’m a sex addict right?”

“Not diagnosed.”

“Dr. Google says otherwise.”

„Then I have a brain aneurysm since I’ve seen the video of you snorting coke of the cock of that senator,“ Clara grunted and Dieter winced.

„No sex, really?“ He whined. 

“I’m afraid it’s gonna be you and your hand from now on.”

“Would you want to have sex with…”

“Please do not finish that sentence. I have a vibrator that will take care of my physical needs and an iPad full of books for the rest, thank you very much.”

Dieter took a deep breath, closing his eyes to stop himself from picturing her with her vibrator, spread on a bed, working herself closer and closer…

“Dieter?”

He opened his eyes. 

“If you want to leave, you have to do it now. But if you walk out of his plane, I won’t be representing you anymore. I know I am getting paid for this but…. I can’t deal with scandals like this anymore.”

His heart squeezed in his chest at the look in her eyes. 

“I won’t leave. I think we both need some time apart from ourselves and our lives,” he said and she nodded before her eyes focused on her iPad. 

“Where exactly are we going?” Dieter asked. 

“Belize.”

Clara wasn't as exhausted as she thought she would be once they got to Belize. Dieter on the other hand looked like dead on heels. Or… Crocs.

His hair was unkempt, dark circles under his eyes after the 12 hour flight. 

The first thing he did was put on a cigarette, inhaling it like his lungs did not know how to work otherwise. 

Clara took off her sweater, revealing a pink top underneath. 

It was early afternoon in Belize and they weren’t even at their final destination yet. 

More than once she asked herself if spending so much time with Dieter without anyone else around would be a good idea. 

They were friends, of course. But they had never spent more than five days together and that was in a big city when they both could flee at any given point. 

Even in the time he had partially moved into her place they still got out to handle appointments or have dinner.

To flee the private island they’d have to wait for someone to pick them up by boat or helicopter. 

And then there was the drug problem. 

Frankly, Clara did not know how bad it was exactly. She was the last person to judge anyone and their life choices, but she was getting scared something would happen sooner or later to Dieter that would take him from her. 

Which was a strange way to think because he wasn’t hers in the first place. 

But he was a friend.

A good friend. 

Her… only good friend really and she wasn’t even sure if he knew her birthday. Then again he knew other things. 

Like her favourite flowers. And Pastries. And that she talked in her sleep. 

“I’m starving,” Dieter snapped her out of her internal whirlwind. She pulled her hand into her bag, searching for….

Dieter’s eyes lit up like a Christmas Tree at the big pack of Kit Kat’s she held up. 

“You know the way to my heart Clara honey bunny,” he grinned and she rolled her eyes with an affectionate smile. 

“You better share with me, Bravo,” she threw the package at him. 

“Nope,” he said and walked towards the car that was waiting for them already, their suitcases in the trunk .

This place was beautiful. 

The sun was setting when they got to the port, the sky in so many colours, she couldn’t wait to watch it everyday. 

Dieter was quiet beside her as he watched her watch the sunset. 

There was a soft smile on her lips, her eyes glistening. Maybe he could get some art supplies so he could paint her while they were on the island. 

She didn’t know that in a secluded corner of his studio at home there were some paintings of her that he painted, mostly after coming down from a high. When he felt lonely and vulnerable. 

He only had to think of her to feel a little lighter. A little more himself. 

Maybe this trip was the best idea she could have.

He needed some time away from all of… all of the people who called themselves his friends. 

When Dieter moved to LA almost 25 years ago he was young and full of hope and dreams. 

But the longer he stayed in LA and got into the industry and met more and more people, the more he changed.

Sometimes he wondered what 16 year old Dieter would think of the man he had become. 

Sure, he was a successful actor with an Oscar and some Emmy’s. Also a Golden Globe. And rumour had it the musical he just wrapped filming was on the road to get him another Golden Globe and maybe a Tony too. If he did not get kicked out of the Academy.

But… he couldn’t remember the last time he was 100% sober and clean on a set. 

Or when the last time was he really had fun on a movie set. 

He was getting older and his doctor was getting more and more concerned with the way he treated his body. 

But… it was easier to call his dealer and get some coke or LSD than to talk about his feelings to a therapist. 

It was easier to drink another glass of wine than tell his manager that no, he did not want to make another shitty cliff beasts movie. 

It was easier to get a groupie into his bed instead of finally acknowledging that he had been in love with someone for the last ten years without acting on it. 

Clara smiled at him as she turned her head, letting it fall against his shoulder. 

Dieter closed his eyes to just feel her so close. 

“I am going to be sleeping for the next 24 hours,” she mumbled and Dieter chuckled. 

“Think you can make it to bed or do I have to carry you from the boat to wherever you kidnapped me?” he teased. 

“Don’t want you to break your back, old man,” he could hear the smile in her voice and he dramatically rolled his eyes. 

“I’ll have you know I am working out now,” he said seriously. She looked up at him, suspicion in her eyes. 

“There better not be some kind of sex joke in there…”

“Hey, Cardio is very important. You should try it too,” Dieter grinned. She was about to answer him when someone called her name and she turned around.

“The boat is ready,” the man said. 

“How long until we get there?” she asked, pulling away from Dieter who definitely did not miss her warmth immediately. 

“About 40 minutes.”

Clara could see the island in the far distance. The last hues of sun had disappeared over the ocean some time ago and it was almost dark. 

Dieter was snoring next to her and she rolled her eyes to herself. 

There was a part of her that was scared of spending so much time with him. Not because they did not like each other. It was clearly the opposite. 

But…. frankly she did not know about how many drugs and things he consumed. She knew after Cliffbeasts he got more careful but apart from that? 

She had been with him at his Doctor’s appointment afterwards where the Doctor told him that he had been incredibly lucky and that he should take this near death experience as a wake up call. 

His heart was already suffering, even though only a little, but Dieter would turn 45 next year. 

And if he continued his life with the substances like this, there was a big chance he would not make it to 50. 

The thought of losing Dieter had put Clara in a state of fear and shock after. 

Yes, she was only his PR Manager. 

And a friend. 

Maybe a very good friend?

And maybe… maybe sometimes her feelings for him lingered on the verge to more but….

She had no right to tell him what to do. 

It was dark when they finally got to the island, leaving both Dieter and Clara so tired they just let them be shown their bedrooms only to fall asleep quickly after a refreshing shower. 

But while Clara stayed asleep throughout the night, Dieter woke up three hours later, unable to fall asleep again. 

So he put his boxer shorts on (remembering in the last moment that he wasn’t alone and Clara would probably appreciate not seeing his penis again so quickly, even though he kinda wished she would) and explored the villa. 

It was luxurious to say the least. 

He opened the extra large fridge in the kitchen, finding it stocked with all his favourites and some of Clara’s too. 

Where the fuck did she find this place?

His mind wouldn’t shut up so he focused on making something to eat. 

It was how Clara found him almost 4 hours later. The kitchen was in absolute chaos while Dieter had fallen asleep sitting at the kitchen island. Confusion replaced by amusement came to her as she watched the various dishes (or attempts) sitting on the counter. There was a very tasty looking chocolate cake right next to Dieter, his fork still stuck in it. 

Then there were pancakes (sweet with chocolate chips and savoury with bacon), some breakfast muffins too. 

She grabbed one, biting into it, surprised that it actually tasted good, though she should have known. He always had loved to cook. 

She jumped when an alarm went off and Dieter snapped awake, almost falling off his chair. 

“You’re awake! Finally!” he smiled, kissing her on the cheek, while he walked to the stove. 

“How long have you been awake?” Clara asked.

“Dunno. Couldn’t sleep. Made breakfast instead,” he put on the pink mittens, carefully taking out whatever he made. 

“For the whole week?” she asked and he shrugged. 

“No drugs means I have other cravings. And you don’t want to have sex so….. I am making food.”

“Is that… Lasagna?” you asked. 

“After my mama’s recipe,” he nodded proudly, setting the casserole down. 

“It smells delicious,” her mouth watered. 

“Grab a fork and get into it,” Dieter grinned. 

“It’s 7 am.”

“And?” he looked at her with raised eyebrows. 

Clara chuckled before she grabbed a fork. 

The first day was spent being very lazy, fighting off jet-lag and eating lasagna all day. Dieter told Clara that he had explored the house and might move into the private theatre.

They spend the whole afternoon in the private theatre watching Harry Potter and eating chocolate cake. Clare feel asleep during the second move, her head resting on Dieter’s shoulder. 

And Dieter watched her instead of the movie until he fell asleep too. 

Only to wake up shivering. 

He was sweating, not knowing if he was hot or cold. 

„You okay?“ Clara asked tiredly and Dieter closed his eyes. 

He was fidgeting, nervous. Usually he would take something now. Something to calm him down. 

But he was on a island in the middle of fucking nowhere and hadn’t had anything in almost 48 hours. Dieter closed his eyes, trying to calm his fast beating heart. 

„Wait here,“ Clara said before she got up. 

She knew what this was. 

Before leaving for this trip she had sat down with specialist in drug rehab who tried to explain everything that could happen once his body realised that it would be not getting a new fix. 

Doing this without medical assistance could be scary, but she wanted to help Dieter through it. She wanted him to get better. 

So she got some medication that would help him through it from the doctors. Only through the first couple of days. A doctor would visit them tomorrow and then every other day until Dieter would not need it anymore. 

Clara knew this could be hard. There was a reason that there were rehab centres and clinics for recovering drug addicts. And with Dieter already being in his forties and taking drugs for the, she guessed, at least twenty years…. She just hopped she could help him through this. 

Because she did not want to wake up one day to the news of him passing away from drugs. 

And so she had planned everything. 

Quickly getting through her luggage she grabbed one of the pills and walked back. Dieter was focused on the movie when she sat down next to him, his head turning towards her, his eyes glassy. She could see his hair clinging to his forehead, most likely due to the cold sweat. 

„I know you are probably going to hate me for a bit for bringing you here, but I just want you to know that I love you. And I want you to get better,“ Clara said and Dieter sighed. 

„I’m a real mess huh?“ He asked and Clara found herself smiling, reaching over to brush over his cheek. 

„You just need a little help sometimes. We all do,“ Clara said, before she gave him the pill she had gotten. 

„According to the doctors I spoke to this should help you with the withdrawal symptoms,“ she said and Dieter nodded, not even questioning her as he reached for the pill and swallowed it down. 

„Maybe I should just sleep through the next few days. I never got through more than five days before I quiet rehab,“ he said, disappointed and anxious. 

„Well, you’re stuck here for the next six weeks. With me. Maybe getting away from everything is gonna be what’s good for you in the end,“ Clara smiled before she laid down again next to him. 

The following week was a long one. 

Clara could see how Dieter was in pain but he never lashed out at her. He slept through most of the day, the doctor who came to visit them helping with infusions of vitamins and everything he needed when he was there.

Clara had taken to sleeping next to Dieter in his bed, wanting to be close in case he needed something. Or in case he got worse. 

More than once she found herself in Dieter’s arms when she woke up in the morning, his breath hitting the back of her neck in warm puffs. 

She knew he was a cuddler, and she was touch starved as hell so enjoyed it whenever it happened. 

By day eight Dieter began to feel better. 

„I can’t believe we’re on a private island and I haven’t even been out to the beach,“ he mumbled into his pillow, some true crime documentary on the tv in his room. Clara had made them some toast and eggs for breakfast which they ate in bed. 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had been this lazy and relaxed. 

„We could just… go outside?“ She suggested, her head tilting towards the open sliding door that opened directly to the pool, private beach and the ocean. 

Dieter followed her line of view, contemplating what getting out of bed and onto the beach would entail. 

He still felt like shit. But not as bad as it had been the day before. Or the day before that. He didn’t know why but somehow it seemed…. Easier this time around. Getting off drugs. Dieter slept through most of it all, the withdrawal symptoms only really hard in the first couple of days. By now he just felt exhausted and wanted to lay in bed all day.

In bed with Clara around who smelled so damn good all the time. 

Meanwhile he couldn’t remember when he even took his last shower. 

Frowning he narrowed his eyes as he tried to remember. 

„You’re thinking this hard about going outside?“ Clara teased and he shook his head. 

„Thinking about when was the last time I took a shower,“ he grunted, before he smelled under his arms, shuddering. 

„It’s been…. Some time….“ She helped, looking at the TV with sucked in lips. He groaned theatrically before he took a deep breath and got out of bed. Yeah, no. He could smell himself and not in a good way. 

„I’m gonna…“ he moved his head towards the bedroom and Clara nodded. 

„I’ll meet you out at the beach after,“ she said, watching him disappear into his en suite bathroom, the door slipping closed behind him. 

She took a deep breath, hoping that the worst was behind them before she got out of bed and began to strip down the sheets to wash them. 

Once the sheets were in the washing machine she went into her room to put on her bathing suit and cover up, grabbing the sun lotion. Dieter was already outside when she walked the short path down to the beach. His bathing shorts were hanging low and she allowed herself to take in the broadness of his back in as he stared out at the ocean. 

„We’ve had this view since we got here?“ He asked as he felt Clara next to him. She hummed and he looked down at her. She had her hair up in a messy bun, her face free of any make up that she usually wore whenever they saw each other. 

Dieter always thought that she was beautiful. 

Had been since he was a child. 

The prettiest princess of all he used to say. 

He used to think they would get married someday. But somewhere along the way he got the offer he always dreamed off and moved from New York to LA and their calls got less and less until they stopped. It had only been his own stupidity that brought Clara back into his life and while she was his PR Manager, she was so much more. 

He didn’t think there was anyone left in his life who would have just taken him out of this toxic environment he found himself in back home just to help him, so he could get better. 

She genuinely cared about him and he wanted to find out if maybe, just maybe she cared more about him than just as a friend. 

Because Dieter had been in love with Clara since he was probably six years old, even though he only realised it around 10 years ago..

„You gonna help me with the sun screen and I help you?“ Clara asked, holding the bottle out. Dieter nodded with a small smile before they walked over to one of the numerous beach chairs and she sat down in front of him. 

„You feeling better after that shower?“ She asked and Dieter opened the bottle. Clara took off her cover up and Dieter swallowed harshly at the amount of skin in front of him he was about to touch. 

„Like a new person. I think…. I think I’m over the worst part,“ he said, squeezing the bottle to bring some of the sunscreen into one of his palms, rubbing it between both hands. 

„I still think about taking drugs all the time though,“ he confessed before he slowly brought his hands down on her back, feeling her jump. 

„Sorry,“ he hummed, beginning to rub the sunscreen into her skin. 

„I already looked for NA places in LA and in New York,“ she said and he found himself smiling. 

„Of course you did. Always prepared,“ he said with a smile and she looked over her shoulder at him with a small smile. 

„That’s what I get paid for,“ she winked before she turned her head back towards the ocean. He stilled for a moment, before he continued to rub the sunscreen in. 

„Is that… Is that the only reason why we’re here? Because of your job?“ He asked, anxious for her answer. She turned around then, sitting in front of him. 

„No. If you were any other client I would have quit back when that video of you your ex wife arguing went viral,“ she said and he sighed, letting his head fall down, chin against his chest. He felt her hand over his and he looked up at her. 

„I care about you and your life Dieter. I just want you to genuinely be happy,“ she said. 

„I don’t know what makes me genuinely happy,“ he whispered, feeling like a scared child. 

Her smile softened. 

„Maybe you’ll use this time away from everything to find happiness, then,“ she winked, before she grabbed the bottle of sunscreen. 

„And now turn around so I can put lotion on your back,“ she sassed and he chuckled before he turned around. 

„It rubs the lotion on it’s skinnnn,“ he said with a squeaky voice, gasping when he felt the cold lotion drip directly on his skin. 

„Do not test me, Bravo,“ Clara warned but he could hear the smile In her voice. 

It was the day after that he found the atelier on the other side of the villa. Clara was in a call for work and he ventured out, exploring the villa. 

It was a beautiful place of earth she had found. 

Earlier today the doctor had come to visit him and he was glad to find out that he was doing better. The doctor also agreed to help with a surprise for Clara which he would bring with him on his next check up which would be in four days. 

Now he found himself staring out at the ocean as he sat in front of the beginnings of a painting he started, his favourite muse already staring back at him from the canvas. 

Clara’s words of him using this time to find out what makes him happy echoed in his ear as he looked at it. 

It was her. It was always her. 

And maybe he took all these drugs to get over the pain and the feelings of never being good enough for her. 

Because what did he have to offer her? 

He had money, he had a career, he had awards. 

But Clara didn’t care about all of that. She cared about Dieter the person and he had no idea who that was anymore. 

Sighing he got up, making sure to close the door behind him as he ventured towards the kitchen. He could hear Clara talk in the living room just around the corner and he decided to cook something for her. 

What most people didn’t know about Dieter was that he loved to cook. 

He took one look into the fridge and decided to make some carbonara, with fresh pasta of course. He hummed to himself as he searched through the kitchen cabinets for the pasta maker. He knew it was somewhere. He had made the lasagna on the first day from scratch after all. 

As he cut the pancetta, the rest already prepared, the water heating up for the pasta he heard footsteps, looking up to find Clara walk into the big kitchen. 

„Whatcha making?“ She asked with a tired smile, sitting down at one of the barstools at the kitchen island. 

„Carbonara,“ he smiled. 

He had a kitchen towel slung over his shoulder, a white shirt beneath. She could see some paint on his shirt, her smile softening knowing he found the atelier she had set up for him in the house. 

He seemed… lighter. 

The far away look in his eyes was gone, replaced by brightness as he prepared their dinner. 

„Can I help?“ Clara asked and Dieter looked up at her with a warm smile and she felt butterflies in her belly. 

„I saw some garlic knots in the fridge. Maybe you can pop them in the oven?“ He asked. She nodded, getting up from her seat. She prepared the garlic knots, continuing to watch Dieter out of the corner of her eyes. He was roasting the pancetta, the kitchen filling with the smell of it. He walked past her, his hand resting on her hip as he reached for the cheese. 

Giving her a warm smile he got back to work. 

„Maybe you can teach me to cook while we’re here,“ Clara smiled and Dieter grinned. 

„Or I can just continue to cook for you. I like taking care of you,“ he said and Clara was glad her back was turned towards him, her face flushing. 

„And what about once we go home? I gotta go back to sad microwave dinners and take out?“ She asked as she sat back down on the kitchen island. 

„Or you gotta keep me around,“ he said with a wink and she smiled at him. 

„I don’t think my kitchen has been used for actual cooking since I bought the new apartment. It’s kinda lonely there to be honest,“ Clara sighed and Dieter looked up at her. 

„It’s the same with my place. It’s way too big to live there alone. Maybe we should move in together,“ he joked.

Clara’s lips twitched into a smile. 

„Oh yeah? You sure we wouldn’t kill each other within a week?“ She teased. 

„It’s been working just find here,“ he shrugged, his palms resting on the cool surface of the marble kitchen island, as he leaned towards her. 

„You have been asleep most of the time we’ve been here,“ she winked playfully. 

„So I’ll ask you again when we leave,“ he winked back and she chuckled. 

„Do that.“

„Where would we live?“ He asked later, food eaten and kitchen cleaned. Clara and him had made themselves a fruity cocktail before they walked outside, sitting down in the warm sand, listening to the ocean. The sun had almost set completely and with how far away they were from everything they could see the stars come out, more and more each minute. 

„Mhhhh…. Which one do you wanna hear? The realistic one or the one I would dream of?“ She asked, her head falling against his shoulder as she sat next to him. 

„The one you dream of,“ he said softly, his arm coming around her from behind, his hand resting in the sand next to her hip. 

„I always wanted to live close to the ocean. I’d love to be able to walk on to my little balcony of my very big bedroom and see and hear the ocean first thing in the morning. If we were to live together it would have to be somewhere far away from LA. Somewhere we you could relax and paint and where I could… find an actual hobby instead of working twenty hours a day. Maybe I could take cooking lessons. I like to cook, I am just terrible at it,“ she mused and Dieter smiled. 

„I’ll give you cooking lessons. I told you so,“ he mumbled. 

„But what when you have to work?“

„In this dream reality I don’t work. Honestly? Acting doesn’t make me as happy as it used to. So if we’re talking about dreams? I wouldn’t be an actor,“ he said and she looked up at him. 

„What would you do?“

He hummed, looking away from her and back towards the ocean. 

„Maybe I’d give art lessons to kids. We could set up a room in that dream house of yours for that, right?“ He teased and she agreed.

They continued to look out until the sun had fully set, the only light coming from the house behind them and from the stars above them. 

„Would you have someone live there with us? A boyfriend or husband?“ Dieter asked quietly after a while and looked down at her. She shook her head. 

„In my dream there is no one but you, Dieter,“ she whispered and Dieter felt his heart jump in his chest as one of her hands came to rest on his knee. 

„What about you?“ Clara asked and he took a deep breath, her head tilting up to look at him. Even though it was dark they were so close that she could see all of him. Instead of answering he, his head dipped lower, his nose brushing over hers. 

„I would really love to kiss you, Clara,“ he whispered and she shivered when she felt his breath brush over her skin. 

„Dream you or real you?“ She whispered back. 

„Both,“ he hummed and without any more words she closed the small distance between them, connecting their lips in a soft kiss.

It lasted only a few seconds but they both felt out of breath as they looked each other. 

„I’ve wanted to do that for years,“ he said and she sucked her bottom lip in as she sat herself up so she could get closer. 

„Why haven’t you?“ She asked.

„You were married and I was… am a mess,“ he shrugged with a awkward smile. 

„I can handle your mess,“ she winked and he grinned. 

„I know,“ he said before he leaned in again, kissing her with more eager now, his hands reaching for her, pulling her closer and Clara let him, climbing into his lap, her hands first on his shoulders then in his hair as they kissed, tongues playing with each other.

„I can’t believe I’m kissing you,“ he mumbled against her lips, making her giggle. 

„You imagined it before?“ She asked when they parted, her still in his lap, his arms around her. She had one of her hands in his hair, her other hand on his cheek. 

„Oh yeah. All the time. But I didn’t want to lose you as a friend, so I never made a move,“ he sighed.

„What changed?“ She asked, genuinely curious.

„I think I was getting tired of denying myself the one thing I always wanted,“ he said and her thumb brushed over his bottom lip. 

„Me?“ You whispered and he nodded, kissing her thumb.

„You make things… quiet. Like cocaine,“ he grinned and she rolled her eyes. 

„Do not compare me to the drug that almost killed you,“ she said with an eye roll. 

„Might get addicted to you,“ he mumbled, pulling her closer, kissing her jaw. 

„I think…. I could live with that,“ she whispered as she tilted her head down to kiss him again. 

When Clara woke up in the morning from that day on, it was in Dieter’s arms. 

And if Dieter wasn’t in bed, he was in his studio, painting away on canvases she wasn’t allowed to see yet. 

The last two weeks had been… interesting. 

She thought the switch from being just friend to… more than friends would be awkward but surprisingly both Dieter and her slipped into… whatever they were now easily. 

At the end of the day not much had changed. 

They were still best friends and loved each other. 

Now they only kissed and touched each other whenever they wanted. And they did that. A lot. 

She could hear the speedboat approaching outside, the doctor that came to see Dieter now only coming once a week when groceries and other things they needed were delivered to their little private island. 

She never in her wildest dreams thought that not only she would love to spend so much time with Dieter but she would not look forward to get back into their old lives. 

But that was still two weeks away. Two weeks, that would hopefully give both of them all the answers they were searching for not only for themselves, but on how their relationship would change once they had to leave their little cocoon. 

She heard Dieters before she saw them. 

His naked feet hitting the wooden floor as he walked towards the main entrance. Only in the last second he seemed to see her, his eyes softening and walking towards her, kissing her softly. 

„Can you stay in our room?“ He asked. 

Another recent change. While they hadn’t actually had sex yet, they had been sleeping in the same bed since the first time they kissed. It was…. So different than both of them had experienced in the past. 

While before Clara, even in the beginning when she was in love with another person, still cherished her own space at night, she basically was attached to Dieter the moment they got under the covers. Something Dieter welcomed with open arms, loving the way Clara felt against him every night. 

She frowned at his request though. 

„Why?“

A grin sneaked to his lips. 

„You trust me?“ Dieter asked, one of his hands on her hip, his other hand pushing her hair behind her ear. He looked excited, so she nodded. 

„Good,“ he kissed her again. 

„Then come and meet me in the living room after your next call,“ he said, having memorised her online meeting schedule by now. 

„Fine,“ she said, still a little suspicious, eyes narrowing playfully, before she turned around, taking one last look over her shoulder before she rounded the hallway, walking towards their bedroom where she had been working from since they gotten here. 

With a deep breath Dieter turned away, walking outside to see if anything was going according to plan. 

His doctor and two other men who were carrying various boxes approached and he hoped it was the surprise that had been delayed due to shipping problems.. 

„You got everything?“ Dieter asked and they all nodded. 

„Awesome. Could you just bring all these boxes into the living room?“ He asked and the two men already walked past him into the house, knowing their way around. 

„You look good, Mr. Bravo,“ his doctor said and Dieter took a deep breath, a smile on his lips. 

„I don’t think I have felt this good in twenty years,“ he said honestly. 

„That’s good. Now, I talked to your therapist after you gave me the contact details. Let’s talk?“ He asked and Dieter nodded, showing the man the way inside. 

Seconds after Clara’s last call ended, Dieter knocked on the door. 

He had spend the last two hours talking to his doctor and then, after he left setting up a call with his therapist back in LA. 

There were a lot of things Dieter would have to work through, hopefully with Clara by his side as his partner. He was getting anxious only thinking about not spending every single minute of the day with her but he knew life had to somehow carry on once they left here. 

So he would make the most out of the time they had left here, just the two of them. 

He hoped she would like the little surprise he had set up. 

When she opened the door her eyes widened before her hand flew to her mouth covering her mouth as she laughed. 

„Santa?“ She asked and Dieter grinned, his finger flipping the end of his Santa hat playfully. She couldn’t help but laugh when she noticed the matching swim shorts he also was wearing. 

Almost giddy he held up a mistletoe over his head and she snorted before she got on her tiptoes, her arms coming up to cross behind his neck, her lips pressing against his. 

He would never get tired of this. 

„Ready for your surprise?“ He hummed against her lips. 

„A surprise?“ She asked, eyes wide. He nodded. 

„Come,“ he kissed her again before he took her hand and pulled her towards the living room. 

Her lips parted in shock when she walked into the living room. 

It looked like a Christmas store had exploded in there. There was a fake tree half assembled in the corner, Three big boxes of what she thought were ornaments next to the couch. Strings of Christmas lights that Dieter must have started to unpack lay on the floor in a tangled mess and she could just almost see where he got frustrated before he just let them be. 

She felt his arms come around her from behind, his chest against her back, hugging her close, his chin resting on her shoulder. 

„I know how much you love Christmas. And it’s my fault you aren’t spending it in your Fever dream of apartment this year,“ he teased and she rolled her eyes. He had always teased her about her decorations. 

„So I wanted to do a little something for you. To show you how grateful I am that you never stop believing in me. Even when I don’t believe in myself anymore. And I… I really wanna change this time. I wanna stay sober, be healthier,“ he promised and kissed her cheek. 

„Dieter, this is too much…“ Clara mumbled, feeling the tears in her eyes. 

„It’s not enough. You’ve been dealing with my shit for almost twenty years on and off. Let me start to make it up to you,“ he mumbled against her ear, lips brushing over her skin. She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. 

„Okay,“ she whispered. 

There was something magical about a lit Christmas tree when she could hear the ocean outside.

They had spent all afternoon decorating the tree, Christmas music blasting from the speakers. 

They had sang together (horribly), dance together (sillily), kissed each other breathless (both ready for more).

After they finished he told her that he hadn’t unpacked all the food that had been brought yet. It was when she was sorting through one of the boxes in the kitchen, Dieter also putting stuff away that she found the package of condoms. 

She hummed interested, Dieter looking up at her as she held the condoms up with a raised eyebrow and puckered lips. 

„You expecting company, Bravo?“ She asked, teasing him. 

„I expect nothing. But… I like to be prepared for every scenario,“ he said with a wink and Clara nodded slowly. 

„I know that you had a vasectomy before you got married, and you know I had my tubes tied like ten years ago, right?“

He walked over towards her, nodding. 

„I also know I haven’t had my blood tested in a while. So….“ He shrugged, his hands on the kitchen counter behind her, caging her in. 

„Would you like to have sex with me, Dieter?“ Clara whispered, her lips kissing up his chin with a smile that only widened when she heard him groan. 

„More than anything,“ he said, dipping this head so he could catch her lips in a deep kiss. 

„Tonight?“ You asked and he groaned against her lips, his body pressing against Clara’s and she could feel him. 

„Tonight,“ he nodded, kissing her once more before he took a step back and moved back towards the box he had been unpacking earlier. He smirked at her when he caught her eyes, still flushed and out of breath. 

And now she was sitting on the sofa, looking at the lit Christmas tree, with Dieter walking around, closing every window and door for the night before he came back to her, holding his hand out for her to take. 

They didn’t talk as he led her to their bedroom, closing the door behind him as she walked towards the bed. 

The thought that this could get awkward really quickly crossed her mind, but then Dieter was kissing her. Kissing her like he hadn’t before, his tongue playing with hers as he walked her towards the bed they had shared for weeks. 

He guided her onto the it, parting from her lips to look down at her as she slipped into the middle of the bed, her eyes undressing him and he smirked as he took his shirt off, loving the way Clara’s lips parted in appreciation 

Before he could talk himself out of it, he slipped the Santa shorts he was still wearing down his legs, leaving him standing completely naked in front of her. Clara’s eyes took him in before she got on her knees, crawling to the edge of the bed. 

She kissed up his chest, her fingertips running up this strong back, feeling him shiver. Dieter took a deep breath as his fingers found the fabric of the shirt she was still wearing, groaning once it was off and he could see her boobs.

„Fuck,“ he let his head fall back before he felt her hand in his hair, pulling him down against her lips. He wrapped his arms around her, wanting her closer, his hands exploring her body, one hand slipping beneath the leggings she was wearing. 

He would never get tired of feeling her skin beneath his fingertips. 

Dieter felt her lips twitch into a smile as he moaned, her fingers lightly scratching over his scalp. 

„Can I suck you cock baby?“ She asked and he nodded. 

„Never gotta ask. The answer will always be yes“ he grinned and she giggled as she began to kiss down his chest, one of her hand wrapping around his already leaking cock. 

„Noted,“ she hummed before she licked at the tip, making him almost jump. Her eyes never lost contact as she parted her lips and took him into her mouth, slowly, almost teasingly exploring every vein and ridge of his length. 

Dieter was pretty sure he was gonna die. 

Her mouth was heaven and when she began to bop her head? He had to try to remember the lines from the first play he was in to not cum immediately. 

And the noises she made? 

Fuck.

Clara felt the same, enjoying the weight of him in her mouth as she sucked him off, the moans that came out of his mouth going straight to her pussy. She loved the way he was holding her hair up, winking up at him. 

If only she had known how much she would enjoy having him moaning like that, she would have done this so much sooner. 

„Fuck… Stop… Stop or I’m gonna cum. And I wanna feel you first,“ he said, taking a step back, his cock falling out of her mouth. 

He helped her get out of her leggings before he pushed her down onto the bed, climbing onto it and kissing her. She parted her legs, crossing them behind his back when he was on top of her, loving the weight of him on her. 

She blindly searched for the package of condoms she had thrown onto her bedside table, humming when she found it. Dieter kissed down her jaw, her throat, kissing himself down towards her breasts, his lips closing around one of her nipples, his tongue playing it it. 

She whimpered, rolling her hips up, feeling the weight of his cock slipping through her folds. 

„Wanna eat your pussy,“ he mumbled against her skin and she shook her head. 

„Later. Wanna feel you first,“ she said, finally having one of the condoms out of the package holding it up. Dieter released her nipple with a wet plop as he sat himself up, reaching for the condom, opening the package. He made quick work of rolling it onto his cock. 

It was then that his eyes dropped between her legs, seeing her for the first time. He released almost a growl before he slipped one of his hands between her legs, his fingers slipping through her wet folds. 

She moaned when he brought his fingers to his lips to taste her. 

„Gonna have you for breakfast every day,“ he wiggled his brows and she chuckled. 

„Promises, promises,“ she teased, her foot behind him slowly dragging up his thigh, teasing him. 

„You’ll see,“ he winked before he got into position, his hand wrapped around his cock, teasing the tip of it through her folds, before he slowly pushed in. They both watched him enter her, slowly, Dieter wanting to give her time to get used to his thick length. 

„Fuck, Dieter,“ she whined and he looked up at her, her hands on her tits, eyes still fixed on where his cock was filling her. 

She finally looked up when he was fully inside of her, and then she smiled and he lost it, leaning down so his chest was against hers as he began to move. The first moan he heard from Clara as he thrusted almost enough to make him cum right then and there. 

Her hands where everywhere she could reach as he fucked her, and he made a mental note to have her ride him the next time so he could explore more of her. 

„You feel so good, Dee,“ she moaned „I’m so close already.“

„Me too, baby. What do you need? Want you to cum on my cock,“ he panted, still fucking her in deep strokes. 

Instead of answering, one of her hand sneaked down between her bodies, starting to circle her clit. 

And within minutes she came, clenching so hard around his length that within seconds after he came too, twitching inside of her as he spilled himself into the condom, only imagining how it would feel to fuck her without one. 

They looked at each other, both out of breath before he dropped down to kiss her, rolling her so she was on top of him, making her squeal against his lips before they both laughed. 

„I could really get used to this,“ she whispered against his lips. 

„I hope you do,“ he smiled, before he kissed her again. 

The amount of time they spend in bed from that first time increased. A lot. Though it was not just the bed. It was the couch, the kitchen counter, the pool, the floor….

Clara couldn’t remember ever having this much sex, not that she was complaining. 

Dieter knew what he was doing and she loved to be on the receiving and of it.

It was Christmas Eve today and she was laying by the pool, naked as the day she was born as she watched Dieter, equally naked walking towards her from the ocean. 

Dieter had made the very compelling point that since they were the only two people on an island with no people and especially paparazzi around that he wanted to enjoy it as much as possible. 

Of course he had asked if Clara would be okay with him hanging around naked. When she took her clothes off as an answer he had fucked her against the floor. 

She sucked her bottom lip between her teeth as she watched him now, skin tanned and glistening with ocean water as he made his way towards her. 

Fuck, she was one lucky woman. 

„Put those bedroom eyes away, you already have me naked,“ he teased as he leaned down to kiss her softly, his cold hands squeezing her boobs with a grin, making her jump. She put her arms around him, deepening the kiss and Dieter moaned as he let himself get on top of her, cock already half hard. 

„You taste like the ocean,“ she whispered against his lips with a smile and felt him grin before he slowly kissed down her body. 

„Rather taste like your pussy,“ he winked before he got in between her legs and began to eat her out. 

She woke up to lips kissing up her back on Christmas morning. 

With a smile she turned on her back, finding Dieter resting with his head on one of his arms beside her, his other arm wrapped around her. 

„Merry Christmas, baby,“ he smiled and she smiled back tiredly. 

„Merry Christmas yourself,“ she whispered and he leaned in to kiss her softly. 

„I have something for you,“ he hummed and she raised her eyebrows, surprised. 

„You have?“ She asked and he nodded.

„Can I show you?“ He whispered and she nodded, letting him kiss her again before she let him led her out of bed.

There were colours everywhere. 

When she arranged to set up this room for him so he could paint it was a beige sad little office. She had FaceTimed with the realtor who was responsible for renting the property out and giving instructions how to change the interior of the room and what supplies to get. 

Clara hadn’t seen the room in all the time they had been here. 

This room was… it was 100% Dieter. She knew he had spent a lot of time in here, she just never imagined that he had painted so much. 

And so many versions of herself. 

In all colours she could imagine. 

He had spend all this time painting her?

She was already fighting tears within the first minute of stepping inside the room, Dieter’s hand still in hers as he watched her. 

„This is… This is beautiful,“ she whispered softly before she finally looked at him. 

„Still not doing you justice,“ he said and now she felt her tears run down her cheeks, before she wrapped her arms around Dieter, hugging him closely. 

„I’m pretty sure I’m in love with you, Dieter,“ she whispered when she looked up at him, his eyes softening as he looked down at her. 

„That’s good. Cause I know I’m in love with you,“ he whispered back before her kissed her. 

One Year later

Dieter had a smile on his lips as he looked up at the canvas hanging in the bright and new hallway. It was one of the pieces he had painted on their island last year, the first one he hung up in their home after the renovations had finally been finished. 

The last year had come with a lot of changes. Not just because him and Clara had made the decision to part ways professionally, but because the reason was so they could start their life as a couple. 

They both had made this decision, Dieter not wanting her having to deal with everything that he came with anymore. 

Not that there was much to take care of now that he had quit acting. 

Much to his surprise he had gotten the Golden Globe and another Oscar for his last project, so what more was there left to do for him professionally?

The last thing he had to promote would be coming up in march of the next year and after that he was ready to never see a red carpet again. He still didn’t know exactly what he would be doing now that he wasn’t acting anymore, but thankfully the investments he made and the way he had worked for the last twenty-five years gave him the freedom to take his time to find out. 

And then there was Clara. 

He was almost disgustingly in love with her (his sister’s words, not his) and there would be no stopping. 

It had taken only six weeks after the island for both of them to make the decision to move in together. 

And to their pure luck, while scrolling through Zillow listings one night when he had visited her in New York they had found their dream home. 

He never thought he would move to the Hamptons one day, yet here he was, in a big country style house with a wrap around porch and a private beach, living with the love of his life. 

With a smile he made his way downstairs, finding Clara in the kitchen, checking on the process of the dinner. They had invited family and friends for their first Christmas in their house together who would arrive later. 

They had both taken cooking lessons together in the last two months since they moved in and she loved taking her time to cook with him every day now. 

„Hey,“ he smiled and she looked up, giving him a sweet smile back. She had her hair up in a messy bun and was wearing one of his shirts. No make up. She was absolutely breathtaking.

Dieter walked over to her, wrapping his arms around her from behind. 

„Hey,“ she smiled back, turning her head to kiss his cheek. 

„Guests will be here in an hour,“ he said and she nodded.

„Just wanted to check before I go upstairs to get ready,“ she said and he nodded. He kissed her cheek, watching her hum as she stirred the soup in front of her. 

It was in that moment that he decided that he didn’t want to wait any longer, that he didn’t want to share this moment with anyone else later. 

His hand searched for the small box he had been carrying around with him for the last six months, the ring he designed for her inside, Clara still focused on the food as he dropped to one knee behind her, He reached for her hand, as he took a deep breath, smiling at the surprised gasp escaping her lips as she turned around. 

She said yes before he could even ask his question. 

[soleilapproves]

Simon’s apartment window conveniently faces yours making him increasingly interested in you.

notes / warnings: fem!reader

Warnings: stalker behavior, spying.

Part 1 of ?

It all started when Simon caught something moving in the corner of his eye. His body shifted away from his computer to see a woman stretching in the window facing his. Messy hair, loose cropped t-shirt that barely covered her mid riff and shorts that one only wore when they knew no one was at home.

Regardless, he found her charming with how carefree she looked. Was she like that with people too? Maybe she was one those type of people that was super rigid with coworkers and strangers but laid back with friends. Or maybe she liked greeting every neighbor she happened to pass by while walking out the building.

Normally, he didn’t bother with people but something in him pulled him towards her. So much so that he moved his chair from his desk and towards the window to see her better. Comfortably sitting with his legs spread and arms folded. He mentally thanked himself for having tinted windows. He could add spying to his list of benefits.

She peered through the window, looking around to see the blurs of metal on the streets. She slumped her shoulders as if she seemed disappointed and went back into her apartment.

He wanted to see more. All he knew was that there was a woman with horrible taste in sleepwear living across from him. Even the fact that her window was full length didn’t help. He couldn’t see much aside from her white bed sheets and maybe a plushie. A couple posters, a small cup on her desk and a…. was that a cat?

His former military training had him seeing a bird eating worms many yards away but now he felt like all that was useless if he couldn’t know what her posters were actually about.

He shook his head to get him back into a more productive headspace and went right back to work. Surveillance work and private investigation felt a lot more taxing after leaving the military. He doesn’t have the patience he used to have back then.

Two hours pass by and he gets up to stretch. Following the woman’s routine, he walks up to the window and stretches his while looking down.

And lo and behold, there she was, by the bus stop, this time wearing some sort of slacks set with a colorful jacket (much better choice than what she was wearing before). Looked like regular office wear. Simon thought that it was good she was taking precautions against the cold.

He checked the time on his Fitbit.

8:27 am

Simon noticed that since she takes the 8:30 bus then she must have a boring corporate ‘9 to 5’ job nearby

-

As you waited for the bus, you plugged in your earphones to listen to a song you’ve been obsessed with lately. The beat couldn’t help but make you bob your head side to side, uncaring if people thought you were crazy or had too much caffeine than one should in the morning.

You continued bobbing your head in the bus. This song has probably been played fifteen times since you’d first heard it. You played to it on your speakers while swiping the floor, in the shower, grooming your cat, and much more.

You were a little bummed out that your friends didn’t like it as much but it was fine. You had your cat who was conditioned rub her fuzzy little head against your hand whenever that that song played through any speakers.

-

Simon had been staring at the bus stop outside his window since 5:00 pm sharp. He knew that the woman was going to arrive any moment now. It was Monday night. There was no way she had other places to be.

6:20 pm

She got out of the bus. A bit later than he expected but then he noticed a small plastic bag in her hand. Maybe a quick grocery run on the way back. He also accounted for the added traffic during rush hour.

‘I can go back to work now.’ He thought himself. ‘She’s safe at home.’

But no, he had to make sure that she was in her apartment. He waited for a few minutes and then saw her in her room. She fell back on her bed with a bounce and the left corner of his upper lip lifted at the scene.

‘She’s safe and sound in her room. Time to go back to work.’

He threw himself back into his work.

Work.

Working.

More work.

Yes, tracking down this old man’s gold digging wife to see if she actually deserves to be on the will or not. She indeed doesn’t. Cheating with her hair dresser. He drafted a quick email of all her reports that was to be sent to his client at 9 am in the morning.

He normally didn’t schedule his emails like that. He usually did it right when he was supposed to send them to make sure there weren’t any last minute changes needed to be made (he felt like it was done better in the morning than any other time). But now, he had the woman from the window. He had to make sure she didn’t get hurt on her way to work and returned back home safe.

He had to keep her safe. His job made him feel like he was compelled to, duh.

Switching off his computer and messily shoving all his notes in a locked drawer, he decided to call it a night.

As he went to lay down, his eyes caught her window again, this time she was dancing. He wondered what song she could possibly be listening to that made her so happy.

He decided to grab his binoculars and peek a little closer. Curiosity’s sake.

She was wearing the same ugly sleep wear from this morning. Meaning, she probably didn’t shower today.

Meaning, she must have dry shampoo.

Ghost doesn’t need any of that since his hair has always been cut short out of habit. Maybe he’ll go to the grocery store nearby tomorrow to see what kind of dry shampoo they sell.

He began to wonder what she smelled like. He was personally a huge fan of sweet scents like vanilla and cinnamon. But he’s heard many women say that it’s very basic so they like pairing it with something floral.

To him, she seemed like the creative type. No boring person would openly dance in front of their window like it was not one of the most embarrassing things in the world.

He began to think about ways he could find out what that song was. He didn’t know any sort of information about her besides where she lived. He could use that to his advantage and trace her email to her other accounts.

So that was that. His first assignment for the next day.

-

I see that all my stalker-phobia is finally coming to good use.

[sweetflanfiction]

Asymetrical Symphony - Part 17

Universe: Arcane (LOL)

Pairing: Viktor x reader

Summary: You had been on the rooftop with Jayce and the Herald and somehow you were sent to a place where things can be different with your help

Disclaimers and Warnings: If you want me to tag you on the chapters let me know! Also leave a comment with your thoughts :D Not finished, not proofread. English isn't my 1st language. All I know about LOL is from google and all I know about Arcane is taken from the show, so inacuracies will be plenty. I have a sort of idea on how to I'm gonna go with magic and runes, so bear with me. The reader will be written as GN (going by they/them) to get everyone involved, but if you see any discrepancies let me know.

Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11 • Part 12 • Part 13 • Part 14 • Part 15 • Part 16

• ··········· • ············ •

After some long minutes of silent work, Viktor placed the goggles on his forehead again and turned his face to your almost sleeping figure.

"Wake up." He threw a small piece of pink chalk at your chest.

"Is it finished?" You blinked away the sleepiness and chucked the chalk back to him.

"No... but I am cross-eyed looking at the thing." He took the goggles off his head and swiveled the bench to you. "Have you tried the new suffix I showed you?” 

The night of the dinner, he had sent Jayce a note with a new symbol to add to your runes. It was disappointing that he had come himself to give you the thing, but you knew how much he hated these events. 

You were certain that, in every universe imaginable, Viktor, co-creator of Hextech, would not be caught dead in a room full of Pilties unless under threat. And Jayce wasn’t about to threaten his life for a two-hour dinner, mostly because if your mother knew, she would threaten Jayce’s life in return. It was a give-and-take with these two.

“Yes, I did.” You turned on the couch so you were fully lying on it, drawing runes in the air.

“And…?” He leaned his elbows into his knees.

“I had to explain to my mother why my bedroom was in disarray after a whirlwind went through it.” You looked down at him, watching his warm eyes widen. “And then I had to explain to Voltaire why all the lights in the house went out for the whole day."

“The rune I gave you was how we… well… in simple terms… solidify the hex gem light into a laser.” He made a gesture with his hand, like a claw coming from his back. “Those results are unexpected. What runes did you speak for them?”

“The move made the whirlwind and the starlight made lightning, but—”

“Lightning?” Viktor was already opening and closing drawers, trying to find his notebook.

“Yup…and--”

“The solidified state of your move rune is a whirlwind, and the starlight is lightning. I need to write this down.” He interrupted, his words coming out as quickly as the lighting from the little marbles of light.

“I already did…but—

“Good, we should try it again in a more... secure place.” He finally found the book with a little 'aha' sound and opened it.

“I’m not going back in the broom closet.” You quickly added to his speech. “Neither of these two runes makes me comfortable in an enclosed space.”

“Understandable.” He nodded after a while of consideration.

“Anyway…what shined was the mending rune…”

“How so?”

Getting up from the couch, you walked over to his desk, intent on grabbing the closest piece of chalk on the table, but Viktor’s hand appeared, palming his pencils and pulling them away from you quickly.

You leaned your hip against his table, crossed your arms, and raised an eyebrow, your face a mask of inquiry.

“There are disposable pencils in the first drawer.” He said, motioning with his chin to the place he mentioned.

You opened the drawer, and six, somewhat new, charcoal pencils were stored. You frowned and took one out. They hadn't even been sharpened yet.

“These are brand new.” You showed him the pencil, and he nodded.

“Yes, and they are also Jayce’s…” You saw the mischievous grin on his face and shook your head.

“For your information, I was going to do this with chalk.” You broke the pencil in three places.

“That would be even worse!" He quickly placed all his writing utensils in a mug with Jayce's face on it. "Do you know how much I have to defend the use of colored chalk? I feel like I’m arguing my thesis…” 

“What's with the Academy and not giving its scientists what they need to survive the grueling task of mathing?” You joked and threw him the middle part of the pencil, watching him fumbling to catch it before it hit the floor.

"Would you like to do math? Because I can play the piano. We can switch one day. See who lasts longer." He jokingly pointed to the arachnid-looking machinery.

“Are you done with the pity party?" You asked, grinning at him, and he nodded brightly.

"Yes, go ahead." He stretched his leg in front of him as he grabbed the edge of the table.

"I've also been managing to speak the rune with fewer movements every time.”

“Abbreviations of words are very common.” He looked at the ground and tilted his head. "Once you become accustomed to speaking a word, you can simply say its condensed form, and it will be understandable."

Viktor gently pushed himself along the table to roll over to where you stood, the last push a little too strong as he came bumping into your side. You grabbed his shoulder to keep both of you from falling to the floor, and he instinctively moved an arm around your waist. You looked down at him, and he up at you. 

You both stood there for a while, and your hand moved closer to his neck, stroking it for a couple of seconds. He moved away and made a little laughing sound. You tilted your head to the side, raised your eyebrows, and didn't again.

"No." He moved away laughing, his hand dragging behind you, leaving a cold trail on your lower back.

And it was then you found out that this Viktor was ticklish. And that little childish detail, the way his eyes instantly filled with laughter, made you extremely happy. Viktor deserved to feel joy and happiness.

With a cough to clear your throat and get back to the present, you took the pencil and placed its pieces a little further apart than the last time, the middle part that you had discarded, missing. As you spoke the rune, you added the sustain and solidify symbols at the end. 

The tendrils came out of the rune and found the intended target, touching the two parts of the rough snapped wood and then solidifying around it until it had the consistency of a paste. After a second the paste started to grow, the tendrils now coming out like gravity-defying candle wax from both sides. They met in the middle, forming a bridge of a blue, slimy material. Once the missing part of the pencil was filled, the paste started to harden, becoming a blue, shimmery shape that connected and glued both parts together.

“It connects what's missing now.” You whispered, trying not to startle the enthralled scientist.

Viktor grabbed the pencil and looked it over from every angle against the light, even tapping on it with his nail. It was slightly translucent, and the noise resembled knocking on a piece of thick glass. He wrote with it, and it worked as it should.

“It is a solid shape, yes, but I believe it’s not a replica of the pencil.” He said, chewing the inside of his mouth. His eyes lifted for a moment, and he went to grab his crutch.

Autumn was around the corner, and the temperature change made his bones and muscles ache. He had told you when you widened your eyes at his crutch and leg brace that when the cold seasons come, he uses them more often to help him. You didn't need to touch his back to know the back brace was there too. 

The Viktor in your dimension had the same problem in his better days. Any weather change would bring his pain level up. He once told you it felt like his bones were grinding on his other and that his muscles were made of fire. It didn’t stop him from coming to the lab. 

It didn’t seem to stop either of them.

You hadn’t questioned him using the brace on the hex leg, but you’d assume it would help stabilize it and even out its weight. 

You were snapped out of memory lane when Viktor sat back down with a ‘humph’ on the stool. He quickly grabbed the screwdriver and started to separate the top side of the crutch from the bottom. In between them, there was a small mechanism. He grabbed that and showed it to you.

“This makes me able to readjust the height of the crutch. This spring makes this pin go into that hole and makes the crutch adjustment secure.” He told you and waited for a confirmation that you understood.

“Alright.” You nodded, confused, your eyes shifting from his to what was in his hand.

He took the spring out, and it left a space in the mechanism.

“Fix it.” He told you and gave you the broken thing.

Without questioning him, you made the rune and waited. The gooey magic substance attached to where you saw the spring start and where it ended, but it didn’t make the shape of the spring. It just connected those two pieces the same way it connected the pencil: with a solid blue cylindrical shape.

"Sorry." You told him, afraid you had broken his walking aid, but he shook his head.

“Interesting…” He grabbed a small hammer he had on his table and hit the new blue piece softly. “It creates new forms but not specific ones.”

“I just learned to speak it. Maybe it comes with practice.” He hit it again with a bit more force, and it broke. "It would be good to be able to actually create new forms."

Viktor nodded as he grabbed the old spring and set it again in its rightful place. He redid the aid, tried it a couple of times, and after he was satisfied, kept it between his knees, leaning his chin and his hands on the middle handle.

“I may be able to help you with that.” The scientist smiled and got up from the table, his leg brace whining at the movement. He went over to the hex core storage and came back with a small thing in his hand. 

“It’s a panel with a missing gear.” He limped back towards you and threw himself on the couch, motioning for you to do the same.

You did, your knees touching as he showed you what he had in his hand. It was a small copper panel with two gears on each side, an empty spot in the middle, and a switch. He touched the switch, and one gear moved, but without the middle one, the last kept still. He stopped off the switch and moved his hand, a gear appearing between his fingers.

“The shape.” He turned the loose gear over to you and pointed a finger at the panel. “The place."

Understanding what he meant, you nodded and grabbed the panel gently, turning it over in your hands.

“Yes, Professor.” You noticed his hand squeeze the gear quickly and then let go. You looked up at him and watched as his usually caring golden eyes turned into something fiery, like hot coals in a fireplace. You saw his gaze quickly shift downwards to your mouth and then up, and as quickly as it came, it was gone.

“Hum... Good luck." He awkwardly got up from the couch and sat back down on his stool, quickly grabbing his goggles and placing them over his eyes.

There was a heat behind his eyes. A small flash from your dimension told you exactly what it meant. There were some things Viktor would enjoy, and when he threw those glances at you, you could pinpoint what they were. It would mostly end up in something that both enjoyed. 

But your Viktor had been stubborn, and although you knew his feelings for you matched your feelings for him, there was always that little ‘I am dying’ detail that, no matter how much you told him you didn’t care, he didn’t forget. And you didn’t—couldn’t—blame him. 

In the end, the only thing you could do was respect that. 

You stayed in the lab with Viktor, trying to make a little gear out of the goo. You’d managed to make some shape out of it, but the gear was proving a little too difficult, and you could feel the tingle in your hand fade as you kept using it.

At some point, Jayce had joined in on the two of you, mumbling something about the council and their demands. Viktor had looked at him and simply passed him another part of ‘The Reader.’. 

For a few hours, you forgot this wasn’t where you belonged. These weren’t your old friends. For a few hours, this was just a normal day of yours. After leaving the orchestra, you’d come by and idly sit by them, listening to them tinkering and reading a book about whatever subject you felt like. Sometimes you’d bring a guitar or some of your father’s records.

You felt the couch sink next to you, and you tucked your socked feet under the leg of whoever had sat down, your back leaning into the arm of the couch. It was muscle memory. It wouldn’t be strange for Jayce to lean against you when he sat; his big shoulders and torso were most likely to be used as a pillow, or for Viktor to place his legs on your lap gently, the pain becoming bearable when he stretched his muscles after being sat all day.

“Oh!” 

Immediately you looked up and saw it was Viktor who had sat down, and clumsily you moved your feet away. Only to be stopped by a hand on your knee, a tired smile on his lips.

“There is no need to move.”

He moved his leg, so you could place your feet back where they were under his thigh, and then he rested his arm on your knees. Viktor leaned his back and shoulders against the couch, his neck stretching back and his long legs sprawled on the floor.

For a while, the only thing heard through the lab was Jayce’s angrily muttering against whatever he was welding. Whatever the council had asked him, he was not happy to comply.

“How is your gear making?” Viktor asked, turning his neck to look at you.

The board now was not as pristine as it had been. There were small pieces of crystal that you could get detached with the small hammer Viktor had provided. The best shape you could make was a splatter sort of circle, connecting the dents of the two other gears.

“Well, good news, bad news. Which one do you want first?” He showed you two fingers in the hand that had wrapped around your knees, indicating the second choice. “I don’t think this rune is made for creating shapes.”

“I was thinking as much. But I was hopeful it could take different paths to mend things.” You gave him the board, and he grabbed it, turning it around near his face and inspecting the blue goo on it. “The good news?”

“I can abbreviate the rune.” You smiled when he looked at you, eyebrows raised, impressed and proud.

The sound of a metal tool falling to the ground, followed by a curse, was heard on the other side of the room, and at the same time, a knock on the door. 

Viktor groaned and clumsily got up, using the arm of the couch, your knees, and then the table to get himself upright while you sat up to a less comfortable position. 

You quickly hid the small powdery leftovers of your tests and placed the glove on your hand. Even though it wasn’t as bright as before, it was still glowing. 

Jayce grumbled as he got up to open the door.

“Hello,” the bright young voice of Sky echoed in the lab. “The council has given me some more project briefings…”

“Great…” Jayce threw whatever tool he had picked up from the floor on his part of the table. Sky flinched at the sound. 

“Thank you, Miss Young.” Viktor grabbed his crutch and limped towards her, trying to appease the girl. “Is there anything else?”

“Hum…yeah…yes…” She looked at Viktor and smiled. “The council wants them reviewed right now.”

Jayce turned to look at Sky and was about to open his mouth to contest, but Viktor took several quick strides towards the woman while throwing Jayce a look you couldn’t see but that shut him up.

“Thank you. You can wait here if you want.” He pointed to the couch you were sitting at, and you gave her a quick wave.

“We’ll give them back as quickly as we can.”

She looked confused for a while when she saw you there but quickly gave you a quick smile and nodded at Viktor.

He looked back to watch her make her way to you and then smiled softly when your eyes met.

“Hello.” Sky said, sitting down next to you, her hands on her knees. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here after your appointment.”

“Hi!" You shrugged and rolled your eyes in an exasperated manner. "The gadget didn’t work properly, and Viktor is making some adjustments as he goes. Saves me the trips and the rescheduling.”

“Ah…yes…makes sense. More efficient that way. It's strange to have to add a planner to the multitude of other things we have to keep in check.” She pushed her glasses up and smiled, her expression showing her distaste for the added unnecessary work. “Oh, congratulations on the orchestra seat.”

“How…?”It took you by surprise that she knew about this since it only happened two days ago.

“Oh…My father works at the printing house, and the orchestra is doing the flyers and posters for this season. I saw your name on the roster.”

“Ah! It’s your father…of course.” In your world, her sister worked in the printing house. “The first winter show is right around the corner. Are you going to go?”

She looked at her hands and shook her hand.

“The tickets for the season's first shows are always too expensive. We’ll probably go later in the season.” 

“Let me rephrase that…” you grinned at the girl. Much like any other person you’d met in this timeline, some of their traits and likes probably still happened to their counterparts here. And you knew Sky enjoyed music. You had invited her several times to watch the orchestra rehearse in your time. It was a free concert for her, and it was worth it to see her just ramble about it afterwards. “Would you like to go to the first show of the season?”

Her eyes brightened up, and you smiled, but her elation stopped short, and she shook her head, sighing.

“There’s no need for you to trouble yourself.” She smiled sadly.

“It’s no trouble. I have 2 seats always reserved in my name. It’s a thing they do to their musicians. My mother and Willah have their box; these two have the Academy’s ticket and will likely be invited. I don’t mind giving you the seats; you can take whoever you want…maybe your sister could come…” Her face lit up again as you realized what you just said and quickly corrected. “If you have sisters…maybe a date…I don’t know…”

“Yes, my sister would love to go. Maybe my mother…I’ll ask…” She adjusted her glasses. “Are you sure? I truly don’t want to impose.”

“It’s no imposition or trouble. I would rather you have them than for them to be empty.”

“Thank you! You’ll be at the piano, right?”

You nodded, and the conversation rolled out easily. Talking about music and compositions and favorites. Sky had always been easy to talk to. She was a genuinely nice person. Had a huge crush on Viktor, which you teased him about, but unfortunately for her, the feelings he had for her didn’t reach those heights. When he became the Herald, he told you she lived in the astral world, always there in the core helping him navigate his new circumstances. He told you she was a friend; you knew she was his guilt.

A high-pitched sound was heard from somewhere in the lab, and both you and Sky looked at each other in silent confusion. It sounded like a kettle ready to boil over.

“Do you hear that?” She asked, looking around, and you nodded, looking around yourself.

She got up from the couch and took a step forward towards the two men sitting at the end of the table. The noise grew louder.

“Vik…” Sky started but was interrupted by a small explosion and three wheezing sounds coming from Jayce’s work table.

You ducked your head as three bolts carved themselves like bullets on the wall behind you. Viktor called your name, and Jayce ran to his station, turning off his still-working welder. You, however, were watching as three red stains appeared on Sky’s uniform.

You rushed forward as she fell to her knees, grabbing her just in time for her head not to hit the ground. She groaned and touched her hand in the three small holes in her abdomen.

“No, no, no.” You chanted, grabbing the blanket from the couch and putting pressure on her wounds. “Get someone!” 

Viktor limped his way to both of you and awkwardly plopped down on the floor, the brace on his leg making it difficult for him to sit down.

“Jayce! Get the enforcers we need to get her to the hospital.” Viktor shouted back as well, and you heard Jayce’s footsteps hit the ground running.

“Ouch,” Sky winced weakly, looking down at herself. “I hate blood.”

“We all do, dear.” You placed a bloody hand on her forehead. “You got to breathe and be calm. Help is coming.”

She nodded, and you looked at Viktor, a bloody pool starting to form at his knees. Both your hands were now holding the thick blanket to her midsection. You kept checking her breathing and making sure she was conscious, but the minutes seemed like hours.

In a moment of silence, you heard the sound of a crackling fire, an orange light shining above you. Craning your neck up, you saw the ceiling crack and move apart. Not like the glass shattering, but a slow movement as the ceiling pieces moved away. The crackling sound mixed with a slow bubbling of liquid. It reminded you of when your mother would boil caramel and condensed milk for her dessert. 

The mix of sounds and the slow movement of the cement was mesmerizing. Then a drop of a bright, hot, sizzling orange substance fell right into your gloved hand. For a moment you thought it would burn the leather away, but it simply got absorbed. It looked like a pebble hitting water, making small rounded waves. Before another drop fell, you quickly ripped the glove from your hand and caught the orange drip. Same effect, but before the little waves stopped, a bead of bright blue shot up to the ceiling. 

In the distance, you heard Viktor call your name, but you were far more interested in the liquid within the cracks going from red to blue.

You saw more tears of blue hit the ceiling as the sound of bubbling and crackling grew louder in your ears. Every time a drop landed, the cracks moved in a different direction. When it stopped, you saw a rune. A new rune.

Unlike the purple one, this one also had an urgency but not a devouring need to be spoken. It was more than the hunger to use it; it was the urgency of the situation. Like the arcane was telling you to trust it. It was still strange to have this outer pull to do something. The other runes didn’t have it.

The whole rune appeared, and you blinked, searing it into your memory. And when… whatever it was… knew you were gonna trust it, the world spun.

Your glowing hand was almost out, but it still had a bit of magic left, and it moved on its own. Speaking this rune was unlike any other; there was no intention, no need to flick it. You spoke it, and your hand snapped to the blanket. With a swift movement, you pushed the blanket away, blood gushing out of the wounds.

You, or better, whatever was moving you, turned your head to the wall in front of you, staring at the three little dots on the wall like there was nothing else more interesting in the world.

Your body worked on its own accord like you had felt in the council room when you wrote the runes on the ground. Sky’s blood felt warm against your hand for a few seconds, until you felt that same warmth drag up from your hand to your elbow, to your shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Viktor half shouted, his bloody hand grabbing your forearm, but when your gaze snapped to him, he quieted down with a gasp. 

You wanted to watch it happen, but whatever will you had to move had been sucked out, and you found yourself staring unemotionally at your friends' worried golden orbs. 

You felt a warmth go up your arm, into your clothed shoulder, as it traveled down your torso until it reached the mirrored spot Sky was hurt. 

And then the warm feeling became a searing, white burning pain. 

You’ve been punched in the gut several times. By Vi, by an array of Noxus soldiers. Even by a beautiful white and gold construct, that one hurt more feelings than flesh. It wasn’t pleasant; it made the air inside your body come out in a huff. It was painful, but it wasn’t this. 

This was like someone took a hot knife and was carving something into your flesh. You could almost smell the burned skin.

Viktor shouted your name, but there was nothing you could do to snap out of whatever trance that rune got you into. You wanted to scream in pain; you wanted to ask for help, but nothing came out. You kept your eyes focused on your friend at his concerned gaze, trying to convey the pain you were feeling, but you weren't sure he understood it. You didn’t feel any muscle on your face move, and for a moment you panicked.

Was this what the hex angels felt whenever Viktor took command of their bodies? Was this it? This lack of control over your body as your mind screamed in pain?

You felt your body fall to the ground with a thud, your heartbeat quickly drumming in your ears. You heard Viktor shuffling to your side, but the world was quickly becoming black. As your vision faded, you saw Sky's teary eyes blink as life crept back into her.

• ··········· • ············ •

@marshy-moo @victormydarling @blueesmiski @th3stup1dcat @22carolina08 @httpstes @that-one-shitty-blog @disa-pointment @sseleniaa @moons-lighttrail @aysluxe @fae-doodle @kitewa @local-mr-frog @bakusquadobsessed @cherry-cola-100 @optimistic-but-very-realistic @seeksrsnn @thecordelialetters @notsaelty @lansy-4 @ayupfrogg @sammypotato @wnbrw @lucycarlisleswife @noxturnalmoth @ren-ren23 @furblrwurblr @kapitankarate @mynicknameisgasoline @octo-octopie @birbwithhat @kneelarmhstrung @dedicated2viktor @elvishstudies

[gojozaiacc]

PARTING IS SUCH SWEET SORROW, Chuuya Nakahara

Chuuya Nakahara x fem!!clingy!!reader

Summary: Chuuya had been called for a long overseas mission and his girlfriend isn’t ready to let him go just yet.

tw!! MDNI, smut, swearing, sexual themes, fluff, dazai mentions, adult themes

Note: this takes place when Chuuya is 18 around the time Dazai is still with the mafia!! :)) it’s slightly rushed in the end I apologise!!

5am was the time that Chuuya was supposed to roll out of bed and start packing. Recently promoted to an executive role just a mere 8 months ago in the mafia, he had found that being in that position required him to go on a lot of overseas missions-- though he supposed being the strongest ability-wise had a hand in the matter too.

Such as today. Mori had ordered him to go overseas again for a mission of 'high importance'- this time for 2 weeks. Chuuya didn't usually mind long missions overseas but it had gotten much more difficult when he acquired himself a girlfriend. Correction; a very clingy girlfriend.

Though he loved that about her. He liked feeling wanted by her and it's not as if he isn't clingy with her too. When he wasn't working he was at home- usually clung to her when she cooked for him or when they were watching shitty movies in bed. They're just two lovesick teenagers so it wasn't like they felt suffocated by one another.

However, there are definitely times when her clinginess can be slightly distracting- like now. He had planned to get up out of bed at 5am and be well on his way to the airport for at least 7am, the problem? y/n woke up before he could get out of bed.

At first, she hadn't done anything major, she had simply clung tighter to him and grumbled sleepily when feeling his attempt to shift off of the mattress. He had sighed and said he'd stay with her for five more minutes. Those 5 minutes turned into an hour the second she had made the decision to press a kiss to his jawline.

He had sighed and threw his head back against the pillow because he knew what she doing. She was trying to tempt him to stay longer. And for around 2 minutes it didn't work before it inevitably did. At around 5:45 they were already half-naked under the sheets- her having moved to straddle his hips to bracket him against the mattress.

In fairness, Chuuya should have probably seen this coming. When he had told her about the overseas mission the night prior he had seen it all over her face. Disappointment. She had pouted and complained about not being able to see him for 2 weeks- possibly even longer if the mission required it. He had simply drawn her into his chest to embrace her- allowing her to cling to him as tightly as she usually would.

He had anticipated her to hug him tighter to her side. To cling to him so tightly that she'd leave red indents on his sides. But he hadn't anticipated her climbing onto him and kissing him so affectionately that it would physically pain him if he were to pull away from her.

Hadn't anticipated her tugging his and her pyjamas away in order to connect their bodies on a much deeper level. Practically swallowing him whole with her arms around him- soft needy gasps leaving her lips whenever he would roll his hips up lazily into her. Continuing to kiss him even after they had reached their peaks until he was forced to break the kiss, panting.

"I have-"His words get cut short as she presses another kiss to his lips. --"to go, doll."He murmured against her lips, grunting as she rolled her hips once more.

"need to- shit-" he pauses again to let out a moan when feeling her shift on his lap- her mouth pressed against his jaw. He caves once more and finds himself rolling them over so she is pressed into the mattress and he is between her legs- his mouth pressing to hers so unbelievably softly. --"pack.."He breathes into her mouth- rolling his own hips forward to draw a soft noise of affirmation from her.

"D'you have to?"She whispered gently against his lips. --"Can't Mori send someone else?"She murmured, her hands moving to his back- fingers scratching angry red lines against his skin when he would hit that spot inside her.

"H-Have to, doll."He answers, moving his lips to her collarbone as his hand reaches beneath the cover to find her thigh and hike it up to his hips in order to hit much deeper- his movements slow and delightfully intimate.

"They need me and my shitty partner to deal with something."He sighed against her lips whilst squeezing her thigh comfortingly- feeling her tense up beneath him signalling her impending second release of the morning. A whimper left her lips and she moved her hands from his back to cup his cheeks and draw their mouths together again- kissing him like he was already halfway out the door. Though it did feel like it to her.

With a soft moan of his name and hers- they came apart together, panting into each other as they rode out their highs together. Her hands moved again to his back- caressing his freckled skin affectionately.

Chuuya's chest heaves as he leans his mouth up to press his lips against her sweaty hairline- not moving from her just yet. --"Please don't go.."She mumbled weakly to him causing him to sigh in amusement. --"I'd bring ya with me if I could, dollface."He hummed softly, his hand lifting to press against her cheek causing her to immediately lean into his touch.

"I'll be back before you know it, yeah?" he says, offering her a lovesick smile- pressing another kiss to her lips, forehead and nose before finally peeling himself away from her.

A sad and dramatic sigh leaves her swollen lips as she lay on the matress, pouting. A couple of hours, a shared hot shower and some speedy packing later and Chuuya was standing at their door- shrugging on his coat as he bickered with his partner, Dazai over the phone about being late to the meetup.

y/n stood in one of his shirts and her underwear- taking a moment to bask in how close they were in height meaning his shirt fit her perfectly. She stayed close to him, her arms wrapped loosely around his side as he hissed at Dazai through the phone for a few seconds before eventually hanging up with a 'stupid fucking Mackerel' muttered under his breath.

"Shitty Dazai's always late but the one time I'm late he loses his shit."He muttered in annoyance as he shoved his phone into his pocket and drew her closer to his chest. She giggled gently at his annoyed tone.

She had met Chuuya's partner before (much to Chuuya's dismay) purely by accident and quickly discovered that she found the bandaged man rather humorous. She couldn't exactly lie- she enjoys it when Chuuya bickers with Dazai over the phone- seeing Chuuya get so worked up and annoyed at his partner never fails to amuse her.

He sighed as he hugged her close to him- the watermelon scent of her shampoo comforting him. Forcing a smile onto her face, she lifted her arms to wrap around his neck. --"Don't be surprised if your shirts reek of me when you come back."She hums, carding her fingers through his hair affectionately.

A snicker is what she gets as a response followed by a shake of his head. --"You don't reek." he chuckles, his eyes crinkling as he laughs and moves one of his hands to pinch the shoulder of the shirt she wore. --"Steal as many as you like, pretty girl."He tells her.

She hums in acknowledgement as he leans forward to capture her lips in what was supposed to be a quick kiss but lasted slightly longer than he intended (mostly because of her). However, Chuuya knew he couldn't be any later than he already was otherwise he'd never hear the end of it from his annoying partner. Thus the second he felt her trying to tug him closer he was breaking the kiss to chuckle.

"I have to go."He repeats for what feels like the millionth time to her. She frowns but nods her head with a sigh. --"Okay...one last kiss?" She asks entirely too innocently for his liking. The amused smile never leaves his lips. --"Just one more."He mutters before connecting their lips once more- staying true to his word and disconnecting from her a mere 5 seconds later.

y/n's heart sinks as she watches him grab ahold of his shoulder bag. --"Call me when you land?"She asks as he pulls open their front door. He nods in response and turns once more to grab ahold of her face- pressing a chaste kiss to her forehead.

"I promise."He told her gently, stroking her cheek with his thumb briefly before taking the step outside. --"I'll see you in two weeks, love."He bids her goodbye with a heartfelt smile on his face and another kiss against her forehead.

She frowns as she leans against the doorframe, watching his figure disappear down the hall towards the elevator- she debated following after him but decided against it when remembering she was only wearing her underwear below Chuuya's shirt.

With one last wave from the redhead, he stepped into the elevator and he was gone. A sigh leaves her lips and she steps back into their shared apartment, shutting the door and immediately slumping against it with a frown on her face as she began her anxious 2 week wait for his return.

[doremimosasol]

𝐌𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐝 - 𝐓𝐨𝐦 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐝𝐥𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐭 ⟡

warnings: suggestive, sharp blade, blood, a bit toxic but kinda sweet too at certain times

word count: 2,8 k

summary: Tom Riddle, the hardworking student, fascinated by you

Tom Riddle, known for his driven mindset but passionate behind closed doors.

It was hard to really get to know the real him, to break through those walls he built around himself. He had always told himself lovers and even friends would distract him from his goal to always over-succeed. He needed to be the best, he needed to know everything they taught at school. He needed to know more.

As a person, like yourself, who studied a lot, it wasn't hard to see him regularly. Tom practically lived in the library, often pulling an all-nighter at any given opportunity. He had his way of tricking Filch into thinking the library was empty and not being able to find him. He often spent time in the restricted section but that didn't give him a chance to analyze the behavior of people around him. So he only visited that part of the library if he really needed to. He didn’t like being around people but the library was the perfect place to really get to know a person.

It may looked like he didn't care about people at Hogwarts, but he was a watcher. In his opinion, watching people study was the best way for him to draw out their personalities. He was intelligent but plain enough to only link people's self-worth to their dedication to their studies.

People sleeping in the library. Those were the ones that didn't have their 8 hours of sleep during the night. Not because of the endless hours studying but because of their weak-minded behavior to party at any given time. They were often Gryffindors, but his own house succeeded in making him disappointed too. It's the reason for him to stay in the library so often, the parties in the common room giving him a headache. Mornings after parties weren’t better for him either. Hungover people all around the place, hoping someday Professor Snape might find them in this state. He’d love to see them get detention.

Ravenclaws. Always putting on the act of the perfect student, while he knew well enough that half of them didn't even study for desire for knowledge. Some of them lived under a lot of pressure, making him almost sympathize with them — no — that was not possible. They were always trying to confirm the expectations of the others. It wasn't a gift. They pained themselves to prove their worth through their grades. But he was always the one they couldn't pass.

Students not using the library for proper end-goals. The kissing in the library drove him mad. There were enough places for one to eat one another's face but they always seemed to decide to do it in the library. What about a room? Anyway, he had his proper way of handling these kinds of students. A way that may or may not make them end up in the hospital wing. Nothing serious, just gluing their lips together with a simple spell. It wasn't pleasant but certainly made them leave. And he didn't have to listen to the awful noises.

Loud students. Same consequences as the kissing students but this time their own lips shut together. It wasn’t a hard spell to reverse. Poor them for not knowing the counter spell, should’ve paid some more attention in class.

You. You were different, always driven to reach the top of the class. Your determination almost — ALMOST — made him feel bad for you not succeeding. Because no one would ever reach the top place as long as he was in school.

You were often the person sitting there too at night. He analyzed your behavior every night. You were different, you took your studies seriously too, and seemed to enjoy it just as much he did.

It seems as if DADA was your favorite subject, noticing the small smile on your face when you had your nose in those textbooks. It was intriguing to him, to see how passionate you were while studying. And especially passionate about his favorite subject too.

This was the first time he'd ever been interested in another student. He wasn't experienced in relationships at all, whether they were romantically or just a friendship. He soon fell into an obsessive spiral, wishing you'd be in the library too when he was there. Figuring out your schedule just by sight of your direction in the hallways. It was unhealthy but you never left his mind, it almost made his grades drop by some percent.

You also noticed him in the library, intrigued by him yourself. He was elegant and charming and the way he spoke made your heart flutter. The guy just radiated intelligence. You caught yourself staring at him quite some times in the library, hoping he’d never notice. Silly you, of course, he did.

It took him weeks to build up the courage to even make the slightest move. He left a small note between the pages of your book while you were gone to get another one. From his seat, he waited for your reaction, even dropping his work just to not miss the smile that formed on your face when you opened the pages it lay in between.

"If a certain someone is on your mind while reading this, take the risk.

-TR"

The moment you lifted your eyes from the small note, yours met his. Tom Riddle. Drawn to the darkness and mystery that surrounded him.

The strange desire that flowed through both your veins reflected in each other's eyes. Neither of you saying anything. When he stood up to leave the library, you immediately picked up his intentions. He wanted you to follow him. A few seconds after he left, you stood up too, following closely behind him.

He stood still in the hallway, his back facing you as you stopped a few meters behind him. The tension was palpable, the only sound in the corridor being both of your breaths. A pace of breathing that quickened every passing second.

"Follow me." His voice echoed through the hallway, it was alluring…

You were contemplating whether to do as he told, but something in you was so damn drawn to him. You were pulled to him like a magnet, your feet following without listening to the signals your brain was giving to you.

He then stopped in front of a wall...?

Suddenly a large door appeared in it and he looked back at you with that typical smirk of his, he was proud of showing this discovery to you. He extended his hand out to the door, it opened magically. "Ladies first, of course."

He looked down at you and behind the darkness that filled his eyes, you could sense a small light flickering behind them. Like a small fire in a deep obscure cave, pulling you closer into the cave. Like a moth to a flame, drawn to the light in the cave.

As you entered the door, your eyes almost fell out of your sockets. Has this always been hidden in the castle? You looked back at him, the surprise on your face was obvious.

"You like it?" He walked closer to you, your heart beating faster at every step he took.

When he was right in front of you, he leaned his head closer to your ear. His breath was warm against the side of your face, a shiver going down your spine at the sensation. "You can keep a secret, right?"

He leaned his head back again, his eyes tracing all your features, pupils dilating. His fingers came into contact with your cheeks, dragging them down slowly until he reached the top of your shirt. Gently he loosened your tie, still looking at you like you were his own personal art piece. "You fascinate me."

"What is it that interests you in Dark Magic?" He slowly traced your collarbone, waiting for a response from you. "Mhmm?"

"I don't know... The secrets and mystery draw me towards it." You didn’t know how to explain it, just keeping it to some simple words. He raised his brows slightly at your confession.

"Is that so? I can give you just as many secrets Dark Magic holds..." He pushed a lock of hair in your face behind your ear. "Even more."

"Are you interested in finding out?"

You probably shouldn't have been…

It was since that day, that Tom and you had these secret meetings. He often took you back to the Room of Requirement during several nights. He taught you new things, in more ways than you could imagine. It seemed as if he was experienced in everything. Everything except love.

As the year progressed, you woke up more times in that room than in your own dorm room. Waking up in his warm arms as he traced his fingers over your bare back. It was a habit of his. He traced every single mole he could find on you, worshipping your body as if it were his reason to live.

His reason to love...

Love.

Love wasn't always that convenient in a relationship with Tom Riddle. The kisses barely weighed out the tears you had spilled during only those few months. They were heavy but he was worth it.

It was the toxic kind of love.

But he was sweet, in a way Tom could ever be sweet.

Nights with Tom were rough, wild, and passionate. The aftermath coloring your body the day after and some even weeks after. He was rough but he knew how to fix you after he almost ruined you. He'd lie if he didn't like to see you in that state. Satisfied by the way he was able to feel unimaginable things again and again. Nothing pleased him more than him pleasing you. Your face was at its most beautiful when you reached the edge. The look of it haunts his mind every single day. Gosh, he believed you were the most beautiful person in the whole school, in the whole world. Your hair spread out on the mattress, your face left with an afterglow, your chest sweaty, and your neck covered in his love.

But there was always something missing, something that made you his. Something that screamed his name. Something that could remind everyone whom you belonged to. Something that would stay with you forever. Something that would bind you to him in a way that was unbreakable…

It was when you two were studying alone in his room that it came to his mind. His eyes averted to the blade that lay on his desk. It was richly decorated with small emerald stones, a snake hugging the handle. It was one of the objects that clearly displayed his heirloom. One of the only things from his heritage that he kept close to him.

He looked back at you, sitting on his bed. You looked so precious in that moment, your eyes tracing the words on the paper of the book you were reading. It was a book he gave to you. It gave an in-depth study of the unforgivable curses: their past, present, and future. His future...

"Darling?" You looked up at him with sparkling eyes, his stomach twisting at the sight of you.

"What is it, Tom?" You straightened yourself on the bed and put down your book, noticing he seemed serious about something. It was a look you knew oh so well. Either you’d be lectured and crying yourself to sleep or tears would stream down your face due to something completely different.

"Do you trust me?"

It was something he asked often but only during closer intimacy, it was weird for him to ask you just out of nowhere. Your heart felt heavy, anticipating something bad.

"Of course, Tom. Always.”

At those words, he got up from behind his desk and took the blade in his hand. The metal made a soft clicking noise against the rings around his long fingers. You had always loved his rings, they were his trademark. He wouldn’t look the same without them. Your eyes followed his actions, not diverting from the blade in his hand.

He pulled your legs so that you got pulled down into a laying position. You gasp softly at the sudden movement. He traced the blade with its blunt side over your legs, passing your knees and slowly reaching your thighs. The cold metal sent shivers down your spine, it was pleasant in a way even though you wouldn't admit it.

He trapped your body, clenching his legs around each side of your body. He looked down at you, seeing your flustered face. It ignited a fire within him and only encouraged him even more to continue. He unbuttoned your shirt slowly, not losing eye contact. He wanted to see your every reaction, the anticipation in your eyes growing.

You didn't say anything, you let him... Surprisingly, you trusted him. You always trusted him. How harsh he could be, he had never hurt you ever. Emotionally maybe but never physically. He’d hurt himself if it meant that you would be untouched by pain.

He pushed the shirt to the side, your chest now exposed to him. You collarbone to his reach, his goal was uncovered. He licked his lips and moved them close to your right collarbone, the one on the side of your heart. He traced them with his lips, soon covering them with his saliva. His tongue left a small wet trail, it glistened in the moonlight coming through the curtains.

He moved his mouth to your neck, up to your jaw until he reached the side of your lips. The teasing made you whimper softly and you put your fingers into his locks. They were soft in between your fingers, a feeling you craved every day.

"You're beautiful." The words hit your lips and you look up into his eyes as he stares back into yours. It's like he's looking into your soul, you feel completely naked in front of him though clothed half.

He dragged the blade across your collarbone, slightly pressing it into your skin to make you get used to the sensation. He looked back at your face to see your reaction. You were calm, and it surprised him. The amount of trust you put into him made his heart skip a beat, it was like falling in love with you all over.

"Can I try something, love?"

Words left your mind and all you could do was nod, You had a feeling about what he was about to do but just waited for him to confirm your thoughts. He traced his thumb across your cheek in the shape of a 'T', the same shape that was now forming right below your collarbone.

It felt cold, it felt warm, you didn't know what it felt like. It almost felt like the same feeling his thumb was making on your cheek like he somehow transferred that soft feeling to your collarbone. It was weird, the pain was almost nonexistent. Little did you know that he put a spell on it, the blade replicating the feeling of his thumb. Like you said, he would never hurt you...

'R'. The next letter now shaped in your skin too, forming his initials in the end. He brushed his fingers over it, immediately closing the wound and causing it to scar. He was making sure it'd stay there forever, like a tattoo.

"T... R..." You looked up at him as he moved his face above yours again.

"That's right, yours. Always and forever yours. Say it.”

“You’re mine and I’m yours, Tom…”

He connected both of your lips as he switched positions into the kiss and put you on top of him now. He pulled away and pulled his shirt over his head, putting the blade in the palm of your hand.

"Your turn now."

Your breath hitched in your throat as he said those words, your turn to do what...?

"Come on, mark me. Own me. Make me yours like you just said" He caressed your cheek and pulled you closer. His eyes were almost demanding, a look you were all too familiar with. He really wanted you to carve your own initials in him too. It was kind of thrilling honestly.

You couldn't deny his wish so you pressed the blade softly against his collarbone with a small sigh. You were focused on the shape, your first letter now leaving a red trace just below his collarbone.

"Good girl..."

Little did you know that this was as close as a blood pact he could get. It'd connect the both of you forever. The letters would turn into a wound again at only the thought of betrayal or disloyalty. You should've known better, for Tom had put another spell on you. Marked by his obsession, marked by his love.

[moonbaby26]

Title: The Best Laid Plans

(Chapter 18 of Doflamingo’s Marine Series)

*Crossposted to AO3 Here*

Chapter Pairings: Doflamingo x Reader, Doflamingo x Caesar Clown (implied), Smoker x Reader (referenced)

Chapter Warnings: language, reader is still going through it, toxic relationship, abusive relationship, manipulation, breeding kink, Doflamingo is a freak (as always)

Chapter Synopsis: The morning after your and Doflamingo’s public engagement and actual marriage, he’s already working towards what he wants from you next. And you begin learning a bit more about the family you’ve now been chained to. All while this news of your union begins affecting even those who want nothing to do with you.

Chapters: 1,  2,  3,  4,  5,  6,  7,  8,  9,  10,  11,  12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19

——————————

——————————

“I have to say…this is unusual, Caesar. Am I to feel like the pay I’ve already wired was insufficient this time? Or have you just had higher priorities this week outside of me?”

Caesar Clown was staring at that snail on the lab table in front of him, and the wholly disappointed edge behind every additional word.

Simply not answering Joker’s phone calls at any hour they might come had never been an option. Punk Hazard was far too close to Dressrosa for one thing. And Doflamingo’s warlord status allowed him impromptu visits whenever he’d wished on this otherwise restricted government island.

But even more important than that constant threat of his proximity, was the fact that Caesar wanted to answer when this man called for him.

Everything about Doflamingo intrigued him really. Every new test of his scientific skills that the pirate could offer him, every new payday, and every thrill of power by association that came along with it all.

Joker had a way about him that just couldn’t be refused, an equally dangerous and charismatic provider like no other.

And this conflict of emotion was only further proven in the way Caesar’s stomach twisted with fear, simultaneous to his face flushing with embarrassment as he tried to lie. “I just wanted this to be perfect for you, Joker. That’s all.” 

The truth and real reason for Caesar’s unexpected delay was something far different of course. A setback that the scientist had no idea how to yet articulate when it involved his favorite client so personally as this.

Because the flaw wasn’t in the new concoction itself that Caesar had already created. It was in the biology of the man who had commissioned it.

“It doesn’t have to be perfect. It just needs to work as I instructed.” The other responded so flatly though, still unaware of what new knowledge Caesar was now hiding. “Did the news coos come by Punk Hazard yet this morning?” He asked almost conversationally next though.

“No.” Caesar was quick to answer a bit louder then, eager to divert to another subject if even briefly. “Why? Did something happen?”

The snail finally smiled a little there.

“I’m calling because I moved the timetable up again yesterday. At the colosseum in front of everyone actually. I can’t help it I guess. When I want something, I just take it.” Doflamingo answered far more smugly at that.

“Oh?” Caesar was twirling the phone cord between his fingers nervously now. He remembered well the urgency of their last conversation. Because Joker had obviously selected you as his broodmare of choice well before taking this public. 

And why not? 

The sheer vanity of the idea was appealing to Caesar as well. Taking a fiery, desirable woman and riding her into submission until she ultimately bore fruit. It sounded like a good time to him as well.

“It’s an official betrothal then?” Caesar could guess as much then.

The snail smirked again. “Yes, it went well. You should have heard the roaring of that crowd.”

But just when Caesar had started to feel the smallest bit of calm when Doflamingo had begun to further gloat, those words turned sharp again in an instant.

“So I want that serum in my hands by tomorrow night at latest, Caesar. I can’t wait any longer. Can you make that happen for me or not?”

Even when posed as a question, there was only ever one possible answer of course.

“Yes, Joker.”

The drug was already ready by Caesar’s standards. It’d force ovulation regardless of any contraceptive previously in your system. And it’d grant resilience in the fetus to the most common toxins, preventing either accidental or purposeful chemical abortion in at least the timeframe until it could be old enough to survive outside of your body anyway. Also with some other chemicals added to further the thickening of the uterine wall and amniotic sac for a bit more physical protection too.

Forced reproduction is what this plan truly was. But the devil always remained in the details.

Though confident as always in his own work, Caesar had still snuck what should have only been an uneventful peek into Vegapunk’s data from the currently unnamed warlord project as well.

All the warlords’ genomes and lineage factors had already been mapped out by Vegapunk. Made from clandestine samples taken from each warlord at the time of the signing of their government contracts in Mariejois.

So in only a single afternoon, Caesar had scoured through Doflamingo’s file. Just double checking for anything obvious. Any potentially debilitating mutations that could interfere in successful fertilization and healthy fetal development regardless of Caesar’s drug’s limited protections.

The scientist did not want to be blamed for a wild card like that after all.

But there, deep into those genetic markers, he had found something that was indeed a hard stop. Nothing that uncommon he guessed, but the absolute opposite of what this plan needed to be successful.

“Will…you be arriving here to pick up the product yourself then?” Caesar felt like those next words were coming out of his mouth on their own now. 

Joker was exponentially faster in the sky than any ship could hope to be on the water. It’d grant Caesar nearly a whole additional day of lab time if Doflamingo came here himself instead of having the drug shipped to Dressrosa.

It’d also give Caesar a chance to dose the pirate with something complimentary to that formula being given to you. Perhaps Doflamingo’s one breeding fault Caesar had found could be temporarily corrected here as well.

The snail paused. 

“You really need the extra time then…don’t you?” And there was a bit of new incredulousness in that tone that may have made Caesar proud in different circumstances.

Because he had never let Joker down prior to this moment. Thus the other’s natural surprise.

“It will be ready by then. I promise.” Caesar still tried to steady his voice.

He would do whatever he had to, to keep in the good graces of those beautifully deep pockets of course. Even if it meant degrading himself to finally ask for help from the last person he’d ever wish to as soon as this call would end.

“Fine. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Doflamingo’s voice eventually conceded to the new terms.

A rare mercy that further reinforced just how badly the Heavenly Demon must want this to happen with you.

“But no more extensions after this, Caesar.” He warned none the less.

“I understand, Joker. And it will be very good to see you again.” Caesar tried to throw on that additional subservience at the end at least, to finish on a good note so to speak.

Doflamingo did notice that difference in tone too. Because flattery was always appreciated, and a brief hint of flirtation even better. “Heh. I’ll be in a hurry. I can’t leave her alone for long. She just gets into trouble every time I do.”

“She does sound fun.” Caesar mused then, gladly sensing that returning deescalation which came with this bit of parting indulgence. 

“She is. But I’m not sharing this one.” The snail grinned fully then. “So fantasize in private. And don’t miss a deadline with me again, dear Caesar.”

The snail disconnected with a click at that as the scientist was left still recovering, here alone in his lab.

He shivered, this new stress so very real as it ate through him.

Caesar knew what he had to do. It was the only way to fix this in the remaining time window available now.

And Vegapunk would be all the more insufferable after this impromptu request for collaboration he was sure.

But sacrifices had to be made, with Caesar’s own ego included in those losses for just this once.

Because Joker would have what he wanted.

Always.

——————————

This meeting had been scheduled ages before now.

Crocodile’s request for official residency in Alabasta was to either be approved or denied today.

But his initial months of planning that should have had him walking into this room as the vessel of vengeance in the young princess’s tragic ransom attempt gone wrong, had been derailed in a single evening. 

Simply because you had to be in the wrong place at the right time.

Crocodile had always intended for his agents to kill Vivi. And then he would have killed them, dealing false justice and earning the full attention of Alabasta’s people.

King Cobra would then have had no choice, unable to publicly spurn the man who had captured and disposed of his precious daughter’s murderers.

And later, when the timing was fully right, Crocodile would have further pressed into that man’s paternal grief.

After getting all the information he’d need about the ancient weapon from the broken royal, it’d have been far too easy to then stage a suicide for Alabasta’s noble leader.

He’d have sewn the story of a father who just could never overcome the loss of his only child. 

And with the people’s favor by then, and Vivi already gone to leave no Nefertari heir to contend with, Crocodile would have been poised to take over this country in the power vacuum which would have followed.

But no.

Because of you, that little blue haired girl whose corpse should have long been sealed away in the Nefertari tomb was now standing before him and actually smiling instead.

She had apologized profusely to the king for not being able to wait a moment longer to share her news as she’d entered the palace dining area where Crocodile and her father had still been talking business.

The royal family’s guard zoans, Chaka and Pell stayed close, but also were losing their air of professionalism as they tried to look over the girl’s shoulder while she presented that brand new news coo delivery to the table.

“Father! Please, may I call and congratulate her!?” The girl was practically vibrating in this new excitement.

But Crocodile’s teeth were already clenching against his cigar.

Because even from across the table, of course he’d recognized that fucking bird’s high cheek bones and dark glasses on the front page.

Every last bit of his restraint was being tested as the tip of his hook punctured the smallest hole into the tabletop now. Catching there in that new imperfection as his jaw tightened further.

And Nefertari, a literal king, was sitting there all the while, marveling at these images and the hyperbolic words of Morgans’ that accompanied them while he turned through those pages.

“My, it says they have been courting one another for years even. How unusual…a pirate and a marine.” Cobra said aloud with some added incredulousness. But only then seeming to remember his own pirate guest at all. 

The almost sheepish look on the king’s face at that realization silently infuriated Crocodile all the more, before Cobra had the audacity to ask something even worse afterward.

“Besides being the ruler of Dressrosa, Doflamingo is also your colleague though. Are you close with him? Is this a surprise to you as well, Sir Crocodile?”

And it was also in the way that little girl’s bright eyes looked up to Crocodile with such anticipation for more details then. This insanity was beyond what the warlord could take.

Because it now surpassed all natural reason and probability the way that pink demon just kept ruining his life.

“Doflamingo does as he pleases. So I’m not surprised.” Crocodile’s deep voice somehow still managed rather noncommittally. His hand removing his cigar from his mouth then.

A tell they wouldn’t recognize. He was utterly seething. 

Because that fucking, feathered whore could never stop being this ridiculous and over the top in every single thing that he did.

And for what reasoning this time? There was always a play, a scheme, or a manipulation when it came to Doflamingo.

Nothing was ever genuine, nothing ever truly real.

That creature was a narcissist, a sociopath, a nymphomaniac, and any other random assortment of mental conditions he chose from his grab bag of collected neuroses on any given day.

“Father, please may I call her?” Yet Vivi started once more, not dissuaded in the least by Crocodile’s lackluster response.

“Yes, of course. But with Igaram to assist you. A call from you is an official contact from Alabasta and the Nefertari family after all…and this would essentially be us reaching out to the Donquixote royals as well now if you speak directly to her.”

And this realization somehow delighted the girl even further. “Oh…yes, you’re right! She’ll be a queen soon. Maybe we can even go to the next Reverie together!”

Cobra chuckled at this. “It’s certainly possible now, isn’t it?”

The girl wasted no time however, having now received her father’s permission as she hurried back out of the room to no doubt find Igaram and make that call.

Which did remind Crocodile of his own brief interaction with you too of course. When you rather rudely rejected his flowers and their very efficient poison.

But now he knew why Doflamingo had not immediately struck back in retaliation for that.

This public exhibitionism was that idiot’s response.

“My apologies for that interruption, Sir Crocodile.” Cobra had turned his head back to look at him again then once Vivi had left. “My daughter doesn’t have many friends outside of this palace any longer, now that her prior playmates have moved on to Yuba. And after that incident in Scylla, I believe she’s found quite a female role model in that marine captain.”

Cobra glanced at that print one more time and your pictures there with his sentiment, smiling warmly before he closed the newspaper.

“You know…” He started again not long after. “I think times are beginning to change in this world. I have to admit, when you first asked months ago for my public blessing to transition your Rain Dinners casino into a more permanent residence here in our country, it didn’t seem wise to me given your nature of remaining a pirate.”

Crocodile was still holding his cigar between his fingers then, outwardly concealing his full disgust as he did at least listen.

“But, the warlord program has clearly been working well for Dressrosa. By all accounts, they are thriving under your peer Doflamingo. He protects them. And now, I’d say they’re on their way to having a rather selfless queen as well. What she did for us in Scylla, I will never be able to fully repay her for.”

And even Crocodile’s expression shifted slightly there. Because he felt that change coming in Cobra with these next words.

“But I’m going to try to. So yes, I wasn’t going to approve your official residency and citizenship request at first. Even with you being a warlord, I suppose I still had learned misgivings about what powerful pirates can do to weaker targets. Yet, I’ve thought about these prior prejudices so much in the days since our experience in Scylla. And the way that captain has obviously deemed Doflamingo at least, as worthy of a second chance in life.”

Cobra even sighed a little there, taking a brief sip of the still warm tea that his servants had prepared earlier. “And you and I both know she will face some ridicule and shame for this choice regardless, being that her partner is also still a pirate. This wasn’t the only reason for my change of heart, mind you. But, I can’t deny that my desire to help her, especially now, will be a large part of my decision.”

The king smiled again there, but with a seriousness that still showed his understanding of the gravity of what he was conceding. “So I do grant your request to stay in Alabasta, Sir Crocodile. Partly for your agreed protection of our coasts of course, as I realize more than ever, the enemies we still have in this world. But also because I want to show that men even with histories like yours and Doflamingo’s can be offered these mercies later in life if earned. We will stand with Dressrosa in this regard. I will publicly support her choice of allying with a warlord, by doing much the same here in Alabasta.”

Crocodile’s stare was wider then. His breathing had paused.

Nothing was ever supposed to truly surprise him. And his hand returned that cigar to his mouth as he forced a smile.

The fucking audacity of this all still had his blood running so hot. His heart was pounding with hidden rage. But even Crocodile’s pride couldn’t surpass his sheer ambition any longer. He knew goddamn well what this meant for him in the end.

This new way into Nefertari Cobra’s confidence and the secrets of this kingdom now came with the ungodly price tag of warming back up to the Donquixote family.

“A sound decision, your highness.” Crocodile drawled through an exhale of cigar smoke though. “I can certainly protect this kingdom just as well as Dressrosa has been taken care of as you said. But even more so, this feels a bit like providence doesn’t it? Why, with your daughter being saved by such dear friends of mine…”

Vomit would have been far more pleasant to roll out over his tongue than those words.

But Doflamingo could be baited and used in a heartbeat. He’d come here with you in tow without question if invited. Crocodile knew this. Just like the card games at his casino, as soon as one hand had folded, another had been dealt to him.

His false smile remained. “In fact, if you truly wish to put your support for that soon to be Dressrosan queen front and center in the public eye, why not ask her to visit here? An engagement party of sorts? As further reward for her sacrifices to your family of course...”

And now it was Cobra’s turn to look surprised, though not at all unwilling for this new idea. “Oh, Vivi would love that.”

“As would your subjects.” Crocodile agreed.

And he did see Cobra glance briefly back up to Chaka and Pell who were still observing this conversation hesitantly as his bodyguards.

“It has been ages since we’ve had a proper ball…” Cobra mused.

The two zoan users looked at one another, but their king didn’t give them any real chance to respond.

It was clear that this thought had rooted in his mind. “Notify Igaram please. We’ll go over the details together, and I’ll let Vivi offer the official invitation once decided.”

Yet it already was decided, wasn’t it? Crocodile saw that. Just as clearly as he dreaded what a reversal of his own word this would be. He had sworn to never work with that bird again.

But using someone wasn’t the same as working with them. Or even denying the full blown hatred that remained for them, now was it?

Crocodile would still tear through each and every one of you without a second’s hesitation if Pluton could finally be his. And then, all these days in hell would be but a distant memory.

Temporary tortures endured by him for the achievement of his broader goals.

And torture would be the proper word for what would be coming. Because he could envision that freakishly long tongue slipping out from behind those bright white teeth even now.

Doflamingo would be elated. 

And Crocodile only had you to blame.

—————————— 

There’d been another note on the nightstand when you’d woken in Doflamingo’s bed in the morning sun. Just like that time on his ship on the way here from Scylla.

That beautiful handwriting that still seemed so disconnected from the ruthless individual who had penned it now stared up at you once more from clean, white paper. 

The curves and flourishes almost looked like they could move, flowing as your eyes narrowed with your now splitting headache, sitting up alone in the bed to read it.

“Good morning, my drunken wife. Though if you can read this, then congratulations. You’ve rejoined the living.

I doubt you’d be in the mood for more pain medication after the last time. But all you need do is ask and I’ll still provide. There’s no reason for you to suffer needlessly. Unless you just enjoy it of course.

I tasked Baby 5 with watching the door out in my suite for you. No unexpected visitors this time. I had some very time sensitive calls to make however, or else I’d still gladly be tangled up beside you. But I’ll check in on you soon.

Yours,

-D.D.”

You closed your eyes briefly then, trying to focus enough to not want to scream.

The haze of yesterday and last night could have been easily dismissed as only a fever dream.

If not for the reality of the diamond ring still around your finger. The only thing you were wearing actually besides a pained scowl as you opened your eyes again and left the bed. Dehydrated as usual and wishing for any semblance of relief.

Even now, you had the instinct that you weren’t supposed to be exploring Doflamingo’s private chambers without him.

Probably why he’d given you your own room to begin with. A safer holding cell for when he was away, before you and Trebol had immediately destroyed it anyway.

But fuck it. 

You were thirsty and still such a mess from last night as you crossed the bedroom.

And soon enough you found yourself standing alone in Doflamingo’s massive bathroom. With the centuries old mosaics and stonework that conflicted with his far brighter, modern tastes. 

It wasn’t your first time being here. But without him even lurking just beyond the door to wait for you, it felt entirely different.

You did your business, relieving yourself and flushing the toilet before standing again. Your bare feet then met his tacky pink rug as you pressed up against the marble sink. The floral scents of his cologne bottles lined up on the counter only messed with your overtaxed senses further.

You turned on the water, washing your hands with one of his fancy soaps, and rinsing them well before cupping your hands under that stream to bring the cool relief to your face.

And you drank it afterward as well. Because to hell with his weird freakout about this very thing back at the villa. You drank that water several times in fact, refilling the makeshift bowl that was then your cupped hands pressed together.

But as you did turn the water off and straightened back up, you caught your own movement out the corner of your eye.

In that floor to ceiling mirror that was well big enough for even Doflamingo to fully admire himself in the nude.

And you’d seen him do it. One too many lingering glances towards his own image in that reflective glass after showering.

But all you saw now was nothing near as flawless as him as you made that same mistake of also looking for too long. 

Into your tired, pained eyes. And over all the bruises now transitioning through every sequence of unnatural colors, while the trapped blood tried to dissolve for days at a time beneath your skin.

The shape of Doflamingo’s foot sole was still centered prominently over your sternum from that battle in the other bathroom as well. His love bites also along your shoulders and one deep enough to actually have thickly scabbed over on one of your hips.

You weren’t always quick enough with your armament when you were supposed to be experiencing pleasure. He’d kiss and lick you, bringing you nearly to orgasm, and then nail you with a real bite sometimes. 

It furthered his arousal at the complete loss of your own in moments like that.

And you didn’t want to see this anymore. 

Not right now.

You turned and stalked out of the bathroom before that disgust in yourself could fully take hold again. Before you could shatter that mirror and even the ancient stone behind it with your clenched fist.

Your luggage was just set against a wall in his bedroom when you came back to it. Like it didn’t belong here at all as you spitefully dug through it.

You put on your usual underwear, but with sweatpants over them this time. That and an old, long sleeve shirt as a top.

It was throw away shit, only fit for laying alone in a ship’s bunk late at night. But you were purposefully covering everything but your face, feet, and hands with it now.

You didn’t know what your plan even was anymore. You didn’t have one as you cracked open that tall bedroom door to exit into the hallway that led to the rest of the king’s suite.

And even with the warning of Doflamingo’s letter, you’d still paused at seeing Baby 5’s back while she stood silently at the window she’d apparently opened in the main sitting room.

She was staring out, not yet noticing you at all.

You’d considered still making a purposeful sound though. To spare you both the inevitable bad reaction of surprising her. You weren’t in the mood of dealing with that. But then you’d noticed the small cloud which rose up as she exhaled.

And something else still inside of you immediately reacted instead.

You didn’t know why. Because it wasn’t as if she was anyone you could actually help.

You couldn’t even help yourself in this place.

“And just how old are you to be doing that!?” You snapped at her regardless.

The girl made a frightened noise of course, eyes wide as she looked back over her shoulder with that lit cigarette still sticking out from between her lips.

Her hands went together in a begging gesture almost simultaneously too as her whole body then turned to face you in the realization of being caught. “He said you’d still be asleep! Please! Please don’t tell the Young Master!”

And her higher pitched plea was like a knife through your still throbbing head.

But you just couldn’t imagine why Doflamingo would care either. He’d thrown his child soldiers out into battle without hesitation for years. Why would any additional lung damage ever matter?

“What would he care?” You asked along with that thought as you approached. But your displeasure must have still been clear even as she didn’t answer.

One more look at you and she’d tossed that still lit cigarette right out of the open window rather than argue.

But that still wasn’t enough. Not for you. “Give it to me.” Your eyes narrowed at her anyway as you held your hand out tiredly, so close to her then.

“What?” She asked defensively, starting to back away.

“The pack, kid. Because you never answered me. What are you, fifteen?”

“Sixteen.” She looked at you with such indignity there, her defiance trying to return.

“Yeah, no damn difference.” But you saw the top of that small box sticking out of a pocket on the apron you hoped they didn’t make her wear. And you snatched the pack right from her, then and there.

“Hey!” She protested, exacerbating your headache yet again with the shrillness of her upset voice. 

Your head was hurting enough that you made your own choice next. You were already over this hangover pain. You needed to feel, taste, or do something different. Anything.

Baby 5 had paused as you opened the confiscated box just as smoothly and removed a single cigarette from it. 

It’s not like you’d ever said you were entirely fair either.

“Chill out. You owe me one for all your yelling anyway.” You sighed. “So give me a light, and I’ll at least let you keep the lighter.” You told her as you brought that fresh cigarette up to your own lips.

“You smoke?” She asked incredulously.

“No. Well, not cigarettes. Cigars…sometimes. I just-” But you realized that was far too honest for this moment. And you walked that comment back quickly. “No. I don’t smoke. Just light it already.“

It was not at all your desire to remind yourself of Smoker or anyone else right now. Of course he’d taught you how. Of course he’d let you try his, and thought it hot whenever you’d held one cigar between your fingers and the other between your teeth, breathing deeply for him while his own mouth had went to work much farther down your body.

You’d had your fun together. And it had meant something, at least to you. Those memories wouldn’t be erased just because Doflamingo said they should.

Yesterday, he’d told the papers you had no exes.

That it had always been him for as long as you’d been old enough to be with a man. That’s what that new timeframe meant, and you were sure he knew that.

He’d told them you’d been fucking a pirate since you’d even known how to fuck.

Baby 5 still stared at you, but she listened to your command regardless as she got the lighter from her other pocket. Likely just in that habit of her always being told what to do around here. 

You bent down enough for her to light the cigarette as you inhaled slightly to get the burn going.

And you did cough a couple of times, that shitty taste one you probably should have long forgotten when you’d first tried and ultimately rejected these years ago as a chore girl.

Baby 5 watched that too, almost entranced for a moment before your hand suddenly moved and you tossed that nearly full pack of her remaining cigarettes right out of the window as well.

“Ah! Why!?” She yelled again, as if you’d wounded her physically that time. While her gaze followed the tumble of the box and its fall multiple stories down until it was out of sight. 

“Because you don’t need it.” You grumbled, even with the utmost hypocrisy of taking yet another drag as you said so. 

“And neither do you.”

Both you and the girl straightened up then, looking to the open archway that connected back to the rest of the royal suite. 

Doflamingo’s long frame darkened it, slouched in that odd way of his with his hands in his pockets as he surveyed this new scene.

Yes, you were also starting to lose count of just how many times he’d now silently entered his own rooms to catch you off guard.

He must do it on purpose.

“Young Master! I didn’t do anything! I didn’t-” The teen tried.

“Out, Baby 5.” The warlord answered. Oddly calm, but non negotiable to his subordinate all the same.

And she didn’t have to be told twice. She slinked past him immediately, head down and fully submissive as she quickly exited.

Leaving you and Doflamingo then staring at one another with that burning cigarette still between your lips.

Your senses were still jumbled. You couldn’t yet feel his intent. And that worried you.

But it was a somewhat good sign when he did take off his glasses, propping them into his hair as usual when the two of you were alone. Though he still watched you sharply through his good eye.

“You love to test me…don’t you?” He said, straightening his tall posture as he moved closer. 

And you held your ground, even when seeing his focus move critically back to that burning cigarette. “I’m having a rough morning. I just wanted a distraction.” You exhaled as you spoke.

But he was so close already then, bending down to grin at you as he inhaled that smoky exhale of yours right into his own lungs.

“And I hate the smell of your ‘distraction’, love…because it lingers. I’ve told them all so many times. Anywhere else they want, just not in my private rooms.”

Yet you remained still as Doflamingo’s hand exited his pocket to so purposefully come up towards your face. His long fingers ran along your cheek softly, just before he plucked that cigarette right from your unsuspecting mouth in one harsh motion. 

Like yanking a weed out of a garden.

At least that’s what his brief glare seemed to say. That he was correcting you, just before his hungry lips covered where that cigarette had been. 

And you didn’t stop him. He’d even made a wanting noise soon enough, one that sounded fully involuntary with his tongue seeking deeper entrance as you parted your lips for him. 

His legs were bent as he tasted you and the remnants of that smoke, again and again actually.

And when he was done, you heard his harsher breathing just from that bit of intimacy. There was a reluctance in him even then as you saw that needful look briefly flicker through his eyes.

His other hand had now taken yours though while he began to lead you away from the window.

But not before he put that cigarette he’d abruptly taken from you into his own mouth.

“We are not making a habit of this. Do you understand?” He chided you again.

And of course you were staring, watching him smoke for the first time you’d ever seen.

He noticed your bit of awe too.

That taunting air of his resurfaced easily. “What? I’ve tried it all. Everything at least once. And many things several times more.” He didn’t even cough as you had, like he was proving that point. His lungs clearly didn’t care about this fresh assault.

“But like I said…” His lips downturned then as the humor left as quick as it had come. “I’ll never tolerate this specific smell on my things again.”

And you were now one of those “things” to him you were sure. With the further squeezing of his large hand around your smaller one just reiterating this idea, before he took and tossed that last cigarette out of the window as well to walk on with you.

“It actually takes years to fade you know.” He added even more seriously, not looking back at you anymore then.

He was pulling you now.

“Doffy…” It was obvious you didn’t have the will to resist him today. But he was already leading you both back towards the bedroom, which felt fully ridiculous and unwanted for you in this moment

Because he’d had all he wanted last night. You’d been a little drunk doll for hours, positioned this way and that to do whatever he pleased.

And Kizaru had caught you redhanded only to worsen it exponentially.

That pain of true humiliation went through you again as you did force yourself to speak, even when Doflamingo hadn’t acknowledged your prior plea of his name. 

You at least wanted some kind of update on the real status of your life before he’d just toss you on that bed again.

“Did anyone call from the marines yet this morning?” You knew it sounded like begging. Were you demoted? Discharged? Were you being called a traitor? How bad was it?

But he still didn’t look at you. And his voice sounded so odd when it did finally come.

“Your priorities need rearranging, little bird.”

His hand loosened slightly. But just enough for his fingers to move against that engagement ring you’d still never taken off.

You glanced down, feeling him briefly turning that band.

And then the two of you had passed the bed. You were standing before another large door as he pushed it open and pulled you through it. 

You went quiet, confused and surprised again as Doflamingo drug you into his closet without any further explanation.

Of course the simple description of “closet” was not near good enough either. Because it was a whole room of its own. Much bigger than even the one that was still supposedly yours in the other bedroom.

And Doflamingo did finally let go of your hand as he walked to the back of this space. 

He was looking for something while you stayed near the front, staring at the racks of clothing rather helplessly. His coats, suits, shirts, and more in just row after expensive row. 

Some garments were embroidered, some had real gold adornments and other precious stones. Everything was here. All the way from the gaudiest, neon colored capris pants you’d ever seen, to floor length furs and ceremonial uniforms truly befitting a Dressrosan king.

Your head tilted back a little too, then looking up as the glimmer of a literal crown and scepter sitting on a shelf above you caught your eye. They looked carelessly set aside, as if they were as unremarkable as an old pair of shoes to him before you heard him speak again.

“Come here.”

He’d been digging in the back corner, pushing away more of his suits that you’d never seen him wear in order to get to something.

And you had to trek across this  “closet” just to reach him.

But you stood there once you had, already uncomfortable before he shoved something large and black right in front of you. 

Your body reacted as if it were some sort of animal carcass, you taking a reflexive step back when those feathers shook all at once from his movement.

Doflamingo was holding the coat at the level of his waist then, and only had to extend his arms to follow you with it as you tried to move away.

“No. Smell it. And then tell me if you still think I’m full of shit.” He sounded irritated again for a moment there, as if he didn’t want to be holding this either for any longer than he had to be.

Of course the reasoning of this harsh new order made no sense to you at all. You just wanted to tell him to fuck off actually when this new weirdness began.

Yet you still felt like the biggest freak too as you were forced to let those black feathers graze your face anyway when he pressed it even closer instead and you finally inhaled.

It wasn’t strong, but it was definitely there.

“Cigarette smoke.” You confirmed, but still looking at him as if he was being insane again.

As usual.

But Doflamingo scoffed at your expression, just before doing the same to strangely smell that coat as well when he briefly brought it up to his face.

“This raggedy thing is almost six years old.” He said, somewhat quieter then. And he lowered it again after. But was still clutching the coat in one hand, as he watched you intently once more.

His glasses were still perched in his hair. And you saw a different look in that moment, just the slightest warning before he swept that black coat around to hang it over your shoulders. 

You tensed. And it was awkward and heavy, but no real difference to the pink ones he wore every day that you could tell.

But you said nothing in your obvious confusion. You only stood there, uncomfortably silent and waiting for the next touch, the next nonsensical action from him.

Yet Doflamingo was only staring at you for a few more moments, taking this all in like it meant something far different for him. 

Your eyes flitted to his hand, cautious of everything again now as he’d moved it to once more touch your face.

“He’d really hate this.” Doflamingo muttered as he grazed his knuckles softly down your cheek. “He was always so adamant about me letting you go.”

Your head was still aching horribly, surely interfering with your own powers of reasoning. But your heart only began to beat faster as his hand then moved down onto your shoulder next.

He was neatening the feathers there. But some were missing. As if they’d been singed and burnt away actually, you finally realized.

“Marine code zero, one, seven, four, six…” Doflamingo added from nowhere as your breath did stop.

“That’s not my code.” Your mouth and brain shot off reflexively then. All of you were trained to give your marine identification number when captured. To say it over and over if you had to under potential torture, rather than giving anything sensitive away that could hurt your crewmates. “My code is-”

“I know.” Doflamingo’s face was tense. His eyes met yours again.

And that all new dread sank into your chest as he did.

“That was his code. My baby brother…my Corazon.”

Your eyes widened as the full adrenaline began. 

In so many instances already there’d been these strange moments and the offhand comments about his blood family. All dead, all so seemingly triggering to him to ever speak of.

And you weren’t stupid. You were perceptive. But when every day and every night had you always still racing through the gauntlet of your own survival, it never allowed you the time to put any of these pieces together.

So he’d just thrown it right on top of you instead.

A dead man’s coat, now heavy in every meaning of the word as it hung across your already vulnerable frame.

“Rosinante…was a marine?” Your quiet voice both asked and confirmed at once. Because the silence was worse. And you didn’t dare look away from this pirate now.

“Yes.” Doflamingo answered directly that time. His long fingers still moving idly though, now nearer your breast, separating the individual feathers where this garment had evidently been crumpled against other things for years now.

He was actually preening you.

“This is just one of the coats he burned and left behind. I was always wasting money buying him new clothes. He could never take care of anything for long.”

Even with the almost neutral expression on Doflamingo’s face then, you still picked up on that real distaste in his tone. A true danger that made you try to force all of your energy away from your hangover and back to your very limited observation haki now.

You needed to focus.

This was no game anymore.

“I didn’t know.” You said in full honesty.

Doflamingo’s fingers paused too, his eyes moving back to your face with renewed skepticism that would have made a lesser soul cower.

“You really never met him?” He asked so plainly though.

“No.” You told the truth again.

The warlord scowled a bit.

“Well, I always talked to him about you.”

And you knew he saw that hint of surprise on your face again there that you couldn’t hide.

His eyes narrowed a little more in response to it. “You think I lie about everything, don’t you? I was telling the truth when I told the crowd I always wanted you. You had my attention years ago.”

That hand that had been neatening the feathers at your chest now moved all the way down to your hip as Doflamingo abruptly squatted onto his haunches in front of you.

His touch slipped so easily beneath the bottom of your shirt as he began to rub the skin of your waist. 

“I told my brother that you’d be mine. But he was too weak to last long enough to see it.” Doflamingo’s grip tightened a little more, holding you firmly by your waistline now, skin to skin. “Do you understand what I’m telling you, (Y/N)? He hid from me. He lied to me. He hurt me.”

“He was undercover.” You said in something not far above a whisper then. Acknowledging the true scope of what was now being revealed to you.

And Doflamingo’s eyes finally looked bothered. He was watching that growing upset in your own.

“You were there that night he died too. With Tsuru…weren’t you?” Doflamingo asked you. And you felt the warmth of his body as he moved in even closer, still squatted down before you.

“Minion Island? Yes…I was there.” You responded as he leaned his head against you so unexpectedly.

He wanted you to touch him in return as he still held your waist.

And you did reach up, the black coat shifting as your hand moved softly around the back of Doflamingo’s neck.

It took everything in you to keep your hand from trembling.

“He left me no choice.” Doflamingo breathed just as your grip met his skin.

The primal chill that went through to your very bones was linked only to the way his eyes had changed again then. No trace of remorse as he said these words to you.

And Doflamingo simply shifted, wanting you to rub him further.

So you began stroking the back of his neck as you felt his face briefly nuzzle you. Partly against your own clothes, partly against those black feathers of his dead brother as he now chuckled.

A sickening sound.

“He took everything I had left. My heart…my trust.”

But it wasn’t sad or mournful. That tone felt like loathing even as Doflamingo’s hand moved again beneath your shirt, his large palm splaying low onto your abdomen.

“And I want it back.” He reaffirmed.

He thought he was the only victim here.

He thought he was owed whatever he wished to take because of the things he’d already lost.

You felt his fingernails beginning to press soon after. Like a claw digging into you with that renewed show of possession.

His teeth were bared again.

“I want it from you.” His voice was so low then, this demon of a man practically sitting on the floor now as he pushed your shirt further up.

“Give it back to me.”

You felt his lips against your stomach next, just before he whispered once more.

“Bear me my new Corazon.” 

———————————

    T⨂  BE 

CONTINUED

———————————

Thanks for reading!

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time - Part Five

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: Jessie can't sleep, and neither can you. Late night discussions ensue. Jessie and you unpack more of your past - and newly confessed feelings.

Warnings: None. Slight mentions of angst, but mostly tons of fluff!

A/N: Previous parts for this series can be found on my masterlist.

Jessie exhaled as she rolled onto her side, waking temporarily from her sleep. She hadn't even opened her eyes before a rush of recollections came to her from the night before.

You liked her in university. You liked her now. Or at least enough to agree to a date.

You were finally - finally - going on a date together. Jessie had waited for this moment for years.

Sure, she'd buried any hope for it for half of those years, but as soon as you came back into her life, everything she'd been distancing herself from came roaring back, and stronger so.

She belatedly realized she was smiling and she let out a contented sigh. She peeked an eye open to see it was still pitch black and she could hear Janine fast asleep.

Without warning, worry and concern started to encroach on the happiness Jessie was feeling.

What if it was really just a casual 'thing to do' to close out a funny story for you? What if you changed your mind? You didn't actually say how deep those feelings had gone way back when and certainly didn't say how deep they were now. Was she just setting herself up for disappointment?

She exhaled again in an effort to calm herself. She closed her eyes for a few seconds, but couldn't keep from reaching for her phone a moment later.

Her chest tightened when she saw a message from you. She didn't hesitate to open it.

"I can't sleep. And for the record, the feelings weren't short lived on my end either."

Jessie's breath hitched as she re-read your message and any lingering veil of drowsiness was now long gone. She swallowed and checked the time stamp. An hour ago.

Her thumb hovered over the screen as she debated whether to reply now or not. With a light huff she tapped out a reply.

"Tell me about these feelings."

She stared at your conversation for several moments, unknowingly holding her breath. She was about to turn off her phone and set it aside when you started to reply.

"You first, Fleming."

"Also. You should be sleeping. You have an early flight."

"Says you. I'm wide awake now. I can sleep on the plane."

"Why do I have to go first?"

"Lol. Hey, I took the first step here, so it's only fair that you tell me more.

"But I actually asked you out in the end. So I'd say we're even. It's your turn."

"It only took you - what - 8 years?"

"I'm teasing. I know it's more complicated than that."

"Slow off the line, but hey, at least you know I'm steady lol. And yeah, it's been complicated. But I don't mind."

"Are you trying to charm me?"

"Depends. Is it working?"

"It is. And it's worked many times before."

"Oh really? Now you definitely have to tell me more."

"Smooth. Well, I don't know, where do you want me to start?"

Start? There's that much? This was going to be way more interesting than Jessie even hoped.

"I guess we can start at the beginning. That art show - was that the first time a date ever came to mind?"

Jessie idly chewed on the corner of her thumb as her remained fixated on the screen and she awaited your response.

"Definitely not. I always thought you were cute and I found you really easy to talk to. So things just grew from there. And really, do you think I came to your games just because I wanted to watch football? lol."

"By the way. That reminds me. You never invited me to your games. I had to invite myself! So if you're wondering why I didn't think you had any interest in me - there's an example of why."

"Y/N. Come on. I didn't want to make a big thing out of it. It felt so cringy and showboat-y. I'm not like that and you know it. And you were busy. And you didn't like football! Why would I assume you'd want to spend 2-3 hours at a game?"

"Yeah, that's the part where you missed the whole concept that I liked you lol. That of course I'd want to show up and support you and learn more about what you're passionate about. Anyway, just saying, you played it awfully cool all the time. So yeah, after the art show incident, I guess it just felt like confirmation that I'd been trying too hard to read into things, so from there I just assumed it was a one-sided thing."

"I'm sorry. It definitely wasn't."

"I'm afraid to ask. But even when you were dating your exes, are you saying you liked me then?"

"If I'm being honest with myself, it's fairly obvious why my exes didn't like you. And it has nothing to do with you as a person - it was about my dynamic with you. I was upset with them at the time, but, truthfully, they had reason to criticize."

"Okay, your turn now."

"Wait – you didn't really answer. Are you saying you liked me when you were with your exes?"

"Yes lol that's exactly what I'm saying. I couldn't even admit it to myself at the time though. It just seemed pathetic when I knew - or thought I knew - that you didn't like me like that. I played it off like, "She's my friend! How dare you!" But, yeah, I came to you for things that I should've come to my girlfriends about. I'm sorry – looking back on this, it was really shitty of me to do that to you; counting on you for emotional support like a girlfriend might. Like when I was upset, when I was excited, you were the one I came to. That wasn't fair to you or them."

Jessie sighed. Those times did create a lot of angst for her. But, she also cherished being the one you trusted and relied on. It had been bittersweet, really. But this changed things entirely. You'd come to her like a girlfriend? Your words - not hers. It made her heart race.

"I really was your friend though. I mean, a friend who was head over heels for you, but a friend. And friends support each other. But I see what you're saying too. And it was hard sometimes being close with you, but not as more."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be."

Jessie couldn’t believe what she was reading. The revelations that were coming out challenged everything she’d known - or thought she’d known - for years. It was mind boggling and elation tingled in the tips of her fingers and toes. She had to be dreaming.

"I wish we were actually talking right now and not texting."

Jessie looked at the time before glancing over at Janine. She really shouldn't get up. But who was she kidding?

She carefully got out of bed and gingerly walked over to her things to slip on a pair of sweats over her shorts, grab a hoodie, shoes and the hotel key. She glanced back once more at Janine's sleeping form and tip-toed to the door, ever so slowly unlocking it – wincing when the deadbolt clicked open – and swiftly stepped out into the hall. She exhaled slowly as she kept the handle turned and softly closed the door.

She tied her hair back with the elastic around her wrist as she headed to the elevator and took it down to the main floor. A tight smile formed across her lips as she walked past the front desk on her way outside.

As the entrance doors slid closed behind her, she peered around and found a bench alongside the building, dimly lit by nearby streetlights. She took up a seat and called you.

The phone rang a couple of times before you picked up.

"Hello?"

Jessie smiled at your voice, hoarse with sleep.

"Did I wake you?" She asked.

"No, I just didn't expect you to actually call," you chuckled, your voice already clearing up. "How are you calling me, anyway? Did you go somewhere else?"

"Yeah," Jessie replied, stifling a yawn as she relaxed into the bench some. "I just went outside."

"Jess," you said, somewhere between chiding and impressed. "We could've kept texting. Or, you know, I could actually let you get some sleep."

"Sleep is for the weak," Jessie joked, twiddling with the tie of her hoodie.

"Since when? You were the one always keen to get a full night's sleep," you teased.

"Well," Jessie started slowly, feeling the push and pull of what she wanted to say next. "If it means I get to talk to you...I don’t mind losing a bit of sleep."

"Wow," you said, dragging the word out with a light laugh. Jessie's face flared with heat immediately. "I did not know you were such a charmer."  As if you read Jessie's mind that had begun to swirl with anxiety, you went on, "Don’t get me wrong – I really like it. It’s just new, but in a great way."

Jessie huffed good naturedly as a small boost of confidence settled in. "That's fair. I mean, as we've covered, I didn't exactly make my feelings clear." She cracked a smirk. "Not such a loser, now, am I?"

"Loser?" You asked incredulously. "Why in the world would you say that?"

Jessie felt heat rushing to her face once more and she rubbed the back of her neck. "I don’t know. I just felt that way. Sometimes. Like – seeing all of these hot girls and guys hit on you whenever we were out, making you laugh, and swoon, and all I ever really could manage to do was offer to get a refill of whatever you were drinking or offer to let you copy my notes if you missed class."

"Jessie. You're ridiculous. You were the absolute farthest thing from a loser. My God. Let's be really clear about that. And 'swoon' is a strong word, okay? I did not swoon over anyone. Anyone that wasn't you, anyway," you finished with a faint lilt in your voice.

"Oh whatever," Jessie protested though her face felt even warmer now. "You most definitely didn't swoon over me. You don't have to pretend."

"Excuse me," your voice rising to match hers, "You were the smartest girl in class. And so cute. And witty. I know you think being shy was a bad thing - but I found you endearing for it. Made it that much more special when we became friends and you opened up around me. And, you know, jocks were never my type, but the fact that you coupled it with academic smarts and becoming one of the people I was closest to and trusted most – swoon worthy"

"Uh huh," Jessie dismissed though it felt like her head was buzzing now. She swallowed the excitement that was bubbling in her throat. "Well, all I can think about is that one night we were at that silly bar near campus and I got you a new drink – you took a sip, handed it back telling me to hold it for you, and then ran out on the dance floor with [another girl]."

”Oh my gosh,” you said, scandalized though both of you laughed. “Don’t you dare. Anytime I tried to get you to dance you always refused! You made it seem like torture anytime you had to! And it was my favourite song! I didn’t think you’d want to dance.”

"Right, sure," Jessie continued to tease, though your proclamations were accurate. "Well no worries – I held your drink and protected it with my life while you danced up on some other girl."

"Oh my God," you went on with a light laugh. "I'm sorry!" You clicked your tongue. "Listen, I can't change it, but what I can promise you is that next time we're out and I feel like dancing, we're dancing together. I won't take 'no' for an answer this time."

"Well hold on now," Jessie protested in jest, drawing another laugh out of you. She hummed and went on. "Kidding. I suppose I can put up with dancing if it's with you."

"You're making me blush," you told her. The way she laughed, she thought you were kidding, but it was true. "Well, I'd love that. Consider me flattered. I've been waiting a long time for it. Remember when [an ex] and I left abruptly during [a friend's] birthday because we were fighting?"

"Yeah," Jessie said, feeling a fleeting wave of aggravation at the recollection of that night. She remembered your ex storming out, you being in a foul mood and leaving shortly after.

"I mean, that was a shitty night. Too much drama. But anyway, [y/ex] was mad because she caught me looking at you from the dance floor one too many times. I never told you – for obvious reasons."

“Yeah right,” Jessie readily dismissed. She recalled maybe seeing you glance over now and then, but it didn’t mean anything.

"It's true," you refuted simply and unbothered. "I think you'll learn that there were a lot of moments like that."

"Well, I find that hard to believe. But I suppose," she relented. "And there are definitely a lot of moments like that from my side, too."

"Tell me one," you said before quickly adding, "Well. I want to know them all, but I'll go easy on you for now. Let's start with one."

Jessie shuffled down in the seat of the bench and played with the seam of her sweats. She pursed her lips together as she rifled through memories until her mind hitched on one, a twinge going through her chest at the mere recollection of it. She went to consider other options, but whether it was the desire to keep ensuring things were different this time or maybe it was just the lull of night lowering her inhibitions, she decided to stick with this memory. She cleared her throat.

"Uh. I guess graduation comes to mind. Not convocation itself, but, you know, that last night we saw each other before I moved," Jessie started, her eyes on the ground as she began now distractedly picking at the wooden slats of the bench.

"I remember that," you said, your voice more somber than before.

"Yeah," Jessie said simply before a stilted laugh escaped her. "That was a hard night."

"Tell me," you gently encouraged.

Jessie exhaled quietly, giving a listless shrug before stating very matter of fact, "I thought it was the last time I'd ever see you."

Her chest was tight and her body felt heavy as the memories and emotions flooded back. She knew every detail of you that night – she'd wanted to remember every aspect and hold it close. Despite the fact that all these other truths were being revealed now, it didn't undo how heartbroken Jessie had felt at that time.

"Don't you start – then I'm going to cry," you told Jessie as your eyes grew watery and you forced a short laugh.

Jessie tried to laugh, too, but it was feeble at best and instead she felt more tears welling. She tried to muster another laugh, but it came out as more of a sob as you watched her and your lip soon quivered.

"Come here," you said, voice tight as you opened your arms to her.

The two of you collided into each other as you both rushed into the hug. Much to her contempt, Jessie began sniffling immediately and her shoulders shook with sobs, pulling a watery laugh out of you as you gave her a squeeze. The squeeze was encouragement enough for Jessie to tighten her grip on you – clutching you almost desperately in her arms and terrified to let you go.

"Jess," you said, your voice barely audible as you waded through emotion.

Another sob escaped Jessie as she pulled you even tighter to her. She felt your body shudder as your own tears overtook you.

"I'm so proud of you," you managed to say through tears, your head resting against Jessie's. "You're going to do amazing things – even more than you've already done. I’m just going to miss you like hell." You finished with a sad laugh.

Jessie subconsciously dug her fingers into your back. "I'm going to miss you, too," was all she could manage through her tears. You sniffled.

"If you need someone to keep you grounded when you're an even bigger superstar than you are now, you just give me a call," you laughed.

Jessie felt words burning in her throat and she felt powerless to stop them. They were words she'd said to you before – more specifically, returned to you. Anytime you said them to her – flippantly or otherwise, regardless, never the way she wanted you to say them. This time, she allowed herself to say them the way she really felt them.

"I love you," she said, tucking her chin against you. "So much." She felt like her chest was about to explode and she bit down hard on her lip as she looked up to the sky and tried to fight off this persistent stream of tears.

"I love you, too," you returned, voice still thick with emotion, but a light laugh punctuating your reciprocation.

Jessie chest panged once more.

"Text me as soon as you land, okay?" You told Jessie as you pulled away from the hug. Jessie's touch lingered until she forced herself to let go.

She sniffled and nodded, wiping irritably at the next tear that fell. "I will."

"And I know you're going to be super busy, but let me know when I could come by for a visit," you said brightly through your remaining tears. You forced another laugh. "Look at me – I'd never been to a football game in my life until I met you. And now I'm offering to fly halfway around the world to watch you play."

Jessie mustered up a smile, blinking back more tears. "Yeah, I'll let you know." She knew she wouldn't and it broke her heart to lie to you.

"Okay," you said as you nodded, smiling bravely for her. "I know you have to go, so I won't keep you. We'll talk soon. Have a good flight tomorrow, okay? I love you."

Jessie swallowed and returned a brave smile of her own. "I love you, too."

She was startled from her thoughts as you spoke.

"Really? We said we'd visit each other."

"I know," she replied, wisps of guilt setting in. "I just-" She took a breath as she worked to find the words. "it was hard...being only your friend. I, I think I knew that moving to London, that I needed to move on. I'm sorry I didn't know a better way to do it," she finished quietly.

"Ah," you voiced, taking a couple of seconds. "I understand. I'm sorry it was so painful – the last thing I would've ever wanted is to hurt you."

"No, you don't need to apologize," Jessie assured you. "I know you weren't trying to hurt me." She took a breath. "I owe you an apology."

"Hm? Why?" You asked, perplexed.

"You know how you asked me recently why we stopped talking?" She asked. "I wasn't being fully honest with you. I knew I was pushing you away. And I'm sorry – for then and for now, for acting like I didn't know any better. I knew I was hurting you. I just...I didn't know how to move on if you were still in my life."

Jessie felt emotions rising in her chest and she continued.

"I know it probably doesn't mean anything. But, it broke my heart to do it. I was miserable. And it was so hard to not talk to you – to tell you about my day, big things and small, and to not hear about yours. To not know how you were doing. I missed you more than you know."

The line was silent for a few, heavy seconds and Jessie felt her anxiety start to build. Her throat was dry and she was about to speak when you cut in.

"Sorry. I just wish I was there. Or you were here," you said, relieving Jessie of her concerns immediately. "I just wish I could hug you, because you don’t need to apologize. I'm not upset with you. Thank you – for being honest with me. Maybe this isn't right, but it makes me feel so much better to know what was actually happening. I hate that you were hurting, and it hurt me too at the time, but, all of this just makes me excited for what we're trying to explore now."

A smile had spread across Jessie's face. "Good. Me too. And yeah," her smile grew and she picked at the bench once more. "I wish we were together right now, too." She meant to leave room for you to reply, but her nerves got the better of her and she talked on. "But anyway, next weekend will come soon enough."

You chuckled. "I guess that's true. It's been 8 years – what's another week."

"Exactly," she laughed, unable to fully quiet the smile on her face. She glanced up, idly noting the subtle change in the colour of the sky. "Shit. I hate to do this, but I should probably go. The sun's starting to come up."

"Oh my gosh, of course. Don't worry about it. Thank you. For calling me. You really didn't need to, but, I really enjoyed talking with you."

"Don't mention it," Jessie replied, cheeks starting to strain with how much she was smiling. "I love talking with you. You know that."

"I do," you told her. "I'm very lucky. Now go. This can't turn into those nights where we just keep talking and talking despite saying 'bye' a dozen times and then one of us just falls asleep at the other's place," you finished with a laugh. Jessie remembered those nights well. 

"No, I'm not ready to answer the line of questions that would come up if the team found me asleep on this bench," she joked. She smiled further at the laugh it drew from you.

"No way. But you better brace yourself for the questions Janine's going to throw at you. It would just be way too easy if she sleeps through it all."

"Yeah," Jessie rolled her eyes affectionately. "You're probably right." She straightened up and slapped a hand down purposefully on her leg. "Okay, I'm going now. But, it was great talking with you. For the second time tonight," she added with a chuckle. Her face began to warm. "Hopefully you can still get some sleep tonight. Um, sweet dreams."

"Well, if they're of you, then they certainly will be," you teased, causing Jessie's face to flare up even more. "I hope you can get some sleep too. If not, then hopefully you can sleep on the plane. Text me when you can. Oh, and don't think I didn't catch that you said you were 'head over heels' for me," your voice light and teasing. "We'll unpack that next time we talk."

"Y/N!" Jessie exclaimed, but the line had gone dead. She glanced at her phone, mouth agape at how you'd hung up on her. A text came through.

"Goodnight! (morning?) Sweet dreams, Jess. 😘"

A/N: Part Six (finale) available here.

[n0tviv]

「 When Vox & Lucifer forgets your birthday 」

WARNINGS : VALENTINO in Vox's part), Angst to Comfort fix, You & Velvette are best friends (sorry to those who dislike her), GN!reader, Reader calls herself a burden :[ , use of y/n, mention of h/c,e/c,f/c (H/c ➭ hair colour E/c ➭ eye colour F/c ➭ favourite colour), swearing, nicknames , NOT PROOFREAD!!

[A/n : I didn't expect Vox's to be so long]

Green colour text is you speaking or thinking example "hi"

Vox :

You yawned before rubbing your eyes, slowly awaking from your slumber, you turned to the side hoping your lover, Vox was in bed with you to cuddle but you were met with your lover's side of the bed cold & nicely made. Of course Vox was probably already awake and at work, you were hoping he would make an exception today because it was your birthday! However, that didn't seem to be true. You didn't let that brings you down tho, maybe he was making you your favorite breakfast so you could have breakfast in bed? You brushed it off before deciding to go freshen up and take a relaxing hot bath to take your mind off Vox.

You made your way to the bathroom, turning on the water to the temperature of your liking before striping and getting into the bathtub

After you finish taking a shower

You wrapped your body in your (f/c) robe before making your way into your shared room to get changed into your favourite outfit, Ouji fashion (or any style to your liking) ! You walked out of your room, expecting to see Vox making you your favourite breakfast but to your disappointment, he wasn't.

That was when it hit you...he had forgotten that it was your birthday. You couldn't blame him though he is a busy man working everyday on his company, Voxtek. He worked everyday from 8-12 hours it probably just slipped from his mind but you couldn't help but feel disappointed.

You made yourself your favourite breakfast, eating it slowly while thinking about how Vox had forgotten your birthday. You lost your appetite from thinking about it so much, you had placed the remaining of your favorite breakfast in the fridge.

You dragged yourself to your bedroom before slamming the door behind you. You couldn't help but wallow in self pity, tears running down your face. You soon fell asleep from crying.

You jolted awake from Velvette barging into your room shouting "Wake up girl ! It's your birthday why are you staying in your room like a depressed chick? Also why are you crying?! You aren't supposed to be sad on such a big event !" Velvette was holding a (f/c) present in one of her arm. She sat you up before handing you the present.

"What got you crying on your big day (y/n)?" velvette asked. "I..V-Vox forgot about my birthday! I c-couldnt help but feel upset and disappointed and started crying" you stuttered, chocking on your tears.

"Oh that bitch! How could he forget such an big event to you? His such an idiot. Why don't you open your present from me and we could go shopping to cheer you up! Sound like fun?" Velvette asked. You nodded before opening your present, inside was your favourite style of clothing in your (f/c) with matching shoes, a handbag & accessories.

"Velvette I love you so much I swear to Lucifer himself,plantonically obviously but you get what I mean! Also that plan sounds like absolute fun let's go!"

On yours and Velvette way out, you two bumped into Valentino,he wished you a happy birthday before going to his studio. Even Valentino remember and you barely even talk to him (or like him for that matter) and Vox, your lover didn't even remember it was good to say that you were pissed.

After you and Velvette came back from shopping, hands full with tons of bags full of your favourite stuff

"Feeling better dear?" Velvette asked putting down the bags of your favourite stuff on the floor of your shared bedroom with Vox. "With you taking me out to buy my favourite things? Hell yea!"

It was good to say that after Velvette left, you placed the stuff you bought neatly in your shared cabinet before placing a letter on the door reading : fuck off Vox, sleep on the couch today. You had placed some pillows and blankets on the sofa outside for Vox. You snuggled into bed before dozing off.

After awhile, Vox came back from work. He thought it was odd that there was pillows and blankets on the sofa but thought nothing of it until he say the note on your shared bedroom door.

He threw a silent tantrum, stomping his feet around. Why did he had to sleep on the couch for ‘no apparent reason???' He didn't even know what he did to deserve his kisses and cuddle session with his beloved lover taken away especially after a long day at work! However, he didn't want to make you more pissed so he slept on the couch like how you wanted him too. He decided, his going to visit Velvette first thing tomorrow morning. He knew you and Velvette was best friends and you told her everything.

It was good to know that the first thing Vox did after waking up was grumpily storming to Velvette's studio demanding why you made him sleep on the couch.

Vox slammed open the door that lead to Velvette's studio,pretty sure if he or Valentino did that one more time the door would fly off their hinges."VEL! DO YOU KNOW WHY THE FUCK DID Y/N MAKE ME SLEEP ON THE COUCH. IF YOU DO TELL ME WHY! " Screamed Vox."WHAT IS WITH YOU AND VAL WITH SLAMMING DOORS. Also yes I do their my best friend why would they not tell me. You're fucking stupid Vox I swear to Lucifer. Did you forget it's y/n birthday yesterday?? They was wallowing in self pity and cried themselves to sleep before I made their day better"

That was when it hit him "IT W—ZZT–WAS Y/N'S BIRTHDAY YESTERDAY? FFFUU-HUHHHH-UCKKK" Vox slammed the door behind him ("STOP SLAMMING MY FUCKING DOOR" -Velvette) as he ran to your shared room, banging on the door apologizing to you and promising to make up for it.

"Leave me alone.." you mumbled "Y/n my doll, please open the door. I'll make it up to you I promise darling." Vox said. He had cancelled everything he had ongoing and in plan for that week. You thought about it before opening the door, seeing Vox. Vox immediately hugged you and kept apologizing profusely, you two spent the rest of the night shopping, having a fancy date at Hell's fanciest restaurant.

He spoiled you with cuddles, gifts and basically anything you wanted to make up for forgetting your birthday!

Lucifer :

Lucifer was a VERYY busy man, I mean he is the king of hell himself! Of course his day is filled with meetings and other stuff.

By the time you woke up Lucifer had long gone off to work,attending meetings,doing paperwork and alot of others but for the whole day he couldn't shake off the feeling that he is forgetting something very important. No matter how many times he checked his schedule,his calander he couldn't seem to remember what he had forgotten.

when you woke up you had realized the obvious absences of lucifer..you lay in bed,trying to cheer yourself up but failing miserably. You knew and understood he was a busy man with tons of errands he needed to run but you couldn't help but feel sad and abit enraged that he had forgotten such an big event like your birthday after he promised he would never forget it.

He had been running from place to place,having meetings all around pentagram city. He couldn't figure out what he had forgotten until he finally reached home at night and saw you,thats when he remember what he had forgotten.. it was your birthday who could he forget??

"ducky..im sosoosososoosososos sorry! It completly slipped my mind,you're way more important then those stupid errands and meeting. Ill make it up to you duckling!"

In the end it was a happy ending with you two cuddling in bed and having an amazing time the day after to 'repay' that he had forgotten your birthday

[snowysosturn]

Allies or Affiliates? - Chris Sturniolo Part 18

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Finale

Pairing : Y/n x Chris Sturniolo

Summary : Law student Y/n’s life takes a turn when she reconnects with Chris, her brief teenage flame who is now a dealer for a dangerous Boston drug gang. As their bond reignites, Y/n is drawn into Chris’s tumultuous world, where rival gangs clash and loyalty is everything. Balancing her love for Chris with her own ambitions, can their connection survive the chaos that threatens to pull them apart?

Warnings : MDNI, mentions of drugs, selling drugs, angst, cursing, mentions of death, mentions of guns, shooting, mentions of shooting

Chris' POV

I ended up crashing at Nate’s place last night. After the chaos of the evening, there wasn’t a chance I was going back to my uncle’s. Nate had a guy who could handle the car, so we made a plan to have it fixed first thing in the morning. I barely slept. My head was spinning, replaying every second of what happened.

Y/n.

The way she didn’t even look at me when she got out of the car, it wasn’t just fear. It was something worse: disappointment. I couldn’t get it out of my head. As soon as I woke up, I grabbed my phone and sent her a text:

Hey. Just wanted to check on you. I know Its all so messed up, but I need to know you’re okay. Please talk to me.

I stared at the screen for a long time, waiting for those three dots that never came. I didn’t blame her, but it didn’t make it sting any less.

Nate was already up, tossing on a hoodie and grabbing his keys. “Car guy is gonna meet us at the docks. Vince wants to see us there anyway.”

“Vince?” I asked, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes.

Nate nodded. “Yeah, something about last night. Probably wants to know why there’s heat on us now.”

Great. Vince wasn’t exactly the forgiving type, but it wasn’t like we had much of a choice. 

We headed out, Nate’s beat up Honda rattling as it cruised through the early morning streets. The docks were quiet at this hour, almost peaceful, if you didn’t know the kind of business that went down there.

As we turned onto the road leading to the docks, my stomach dropped.

A car passed us going the opposite direction, creeping just slow enough to make the hair on the back of my neck stand up.

A black sedan.

“Chris-”

“I see it” I cut Nate off, keeping my voice low. “Just keep driving. Don’t even look back.”

Nate tightened his grip on the wheel, muttering a curse under his breath. “You think it’s them?”

“Who else would it be? They’re probably snooping, trying to see what we’re up to.”

“Shit.”

“Don’t stop. We’ll tell Vince. He’ll sort it out” I said, my voice steady, but inside, my mind was racing.

What the hell were they doing this early? The docks weren’t exactly prime real estate for tourists or morning joggers. Whoever they were, they had no reason to be there unless it was for us.

We reached the lot near the warehouse, pulling in next to Vince’s black SUV. Nate killed the engine, and we both sat there for a moment, neither of us saying a word.

“You think they’re watching us?” Nate asked, finally breaking the silence.

“Probably” I admitted. “But we’ll let Vince handle it. That’s what he’s here for, right?”

Nate nodded, but the unease in his eyes mirrored my own. This wasn’t just about the car anymore or even the shots fired last night. This was bigger. And now, Vince was involved.

I pulled out my phone again, checking for a reply from Y/n. Nothing. My chest tightened.

“Let’s go” I said, opening the door and stepping into the crisp morning air. The docks might’ve been quiet, but the tension was anything but.

Vince was leaning casually against his black SUV, talking to Sully. Sully, who was Danny’s right hand man.

It still made no sense to me why Vince thought I could fill Danny’s shoes. Especially when there is people like Sully still around, who had been groomed for this life since day one, practically raised on Vince’s rules. 

Vince glanced up, his eyes cold and calculating, and motioned us over with a flick of his hand.

“I heard about last night” he said, his voice low but sharp. “Shooting in Longwood. That was your car, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah” I admitted, my jaw tightening. “They got the back window. We weren’t hit, though.”

“And what kind of distraction did you have that you didn’t see it coming?” His gaze bore into me, cutting through whatever excuse I might’ve tried to muster.

“I wasn’t distracted” I said firmly. “I was doing a run. It happened when I was heading back to my car. I didn’t even have time to react.”

Vince studied me for a moment, his expression unreadable. “And you’re sure it wasn’t you they were after?”

I hesitated, then shook my head. “I don’t think so. I think they thought Nate was in the car. We just saw the same sedan pulling out of here on the way in, they’re lurking, Vince. Everywhere.”

The mention of the car seemed to hit a nerve. Vince’s jaw tightened, and he glanced at Sully, who gave him a slight nod, as if confirming something.

Before Vince could respond, the rumble of a tow truck cut through the silence. It pulled into the lot, heading straight for my busted car. Nate walked over to deal with the driver, giving directions to the warehouse, while I stayed behind with Vince.

“Looks like you’re making a habit of finding trouble,” Vince said, his tone lighter but still laced with an edge.

“Not by choice” I muttered, watching as the tow truck maneuvered my car out of the warehouse.

Vince stepped closer, lowering his voice. “You’ve proven yourself to me, you know.”

I frowned, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

“The other night. When we had an unknown on our turf, sniffing around. You handled it better than Danny would’ve.”

His words sank in, and I struggled to hide my disbelief. “I just did what I had to do” I said carefully.

“That’s the point” Vince replied. “You didn’t hesitate. Danny would’ve folded, made a scene. You didn’t.”

I didn’t know what to say. Part of me wanted to argue, to tell him I wasn’t cut out for this, but another part of me, the part that had survived in this life so far, knew better than to argue with Vince Moretti.

Nate walked back over, brushing his hands off on his jeans. “Car’s sorted” he said. “He’ll have it ready in the next day or two.”

“Good,” Vince said, nodding. Then he turned his attention back to me. “Keep your head on straight, Chris. We’ll need it.”

I swallowed hard, nodding even though my stomach was in knots. As Vince and Sully walked off, Nate gave me a look.

“What the hell did he mean by that?” Nate asked.

I didn’t answer right away, my mind still spinning. “Nothing good” I muttered finally, staring at the empty street where the black sedan had been. “Nothing good.”

As Nate and I got back into his car, the weight of everything Vince said lingered. My head was pounding from the stress, and my chest felt tight thinking about Y/n. I hadn’t heard from her still, and it was killing me.

I pulled out my phone again as Nate began to drive.

Me: Y/n, I’m so sorry for what happened. Please, just let me know if you’re okay. I don’t expect you to want to talk to me right now, but I need to know you’re safe.

“You’re thinking about her, aren’t you?” Nate asked, breaking the silence.

“Of course, I’m thinking about her” I snapped. “She was in the car when it got shot at. Do you have any idea how that feels?”

Nate’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “Yeah, I do. I’ve seen shit like this go down before. You’re not the first guy to have someone close to you caught in the crossfire. But you’ve gotta focus, Chris. Losing your head over this isn’t gonna fix anything.”

“I’m not losing my head” I muttered, though the edge in my voice betrayed me.

“What are you gonna do if she doesn’t answer?” Nate asked as he ordered his food.

“I don’t know,” I admitted, my voice low. “I can’t just leave things like this.”

“She’ll come around” Nate said, though his tone wasn’t entirely convincing. “She just needs time.”

“Time doesn’t fix this” I muttered. “How do you fix something when you’ve dragged someone into a world they don’t belong in? And they could’ve been killed in the process. She shouldn’t have been there.”

“You tried to protect her” Nate offered. “She chose to come. That’s on her.”

“No” I said sharply. “It’s on me. I should’ve said no, Nate. I should’ve been smarter.”

He didn’t argue, which somehow made it worse.

When we got back to Nate’s place, I sat on the couch, staring at my phone, willing it to light up with her name. Every second that passed made the pit in my stomach grow deeper.

Finally, I sent another message.

Me: Y/n, I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness, but I need to explain everything to you. Please. Just one chance to fix this.

I leaned back, running my hands through my hair, the guilt eating away at me. I had no idea if she’d even read my messages, let alone respond.

The silence in her almost built a rage in me, a rage I didn’t know how to contain. It wasn’t directed at her,I couldn’t blame her for shutting me out, but at Vince, at everyone in the gang, at the world, at the life I’d been roped into, at the situation that had unfolded last night.

I needed to see her, to speak to her, to hold her and know she was okay. Every minute of radio silence chipped away at my resolve, and the frustration boiling inside me threatened to spill over.

I stared at my phone, considering whether to call or just show up at her place. But I didn’t even know if she’d be home. It was nearing 11 am, and I didn’t want to make things worse by ambushing her.

“Wanna get McDonald’s breakfast?” Nate asked from the other side of the room, breaking me out of my spiral.

I looked up, narrowing my eyes at him. “Seriously? That’s what you’re thinking about right now?”

He shrugged. “What else am I supposed to do? You’re sitting there brooding, and I’m starving.”

I let out a sharp exhale, trying to let his nonchalance cool my temper. “Fine” I muttered, standing up. “Let’s go.”

We got in Nate’s car, and he started the engine, pulling out of the driveway. The ride was quiet, the tension in the air thick as I stared out the window, my mind racing.

Y/n’s POV

The morning sunlight streamed through the cracks in my curtains, warming the room in a way that felt cruel given the cold heaviness in my chest. I woke up with my heart pounding, the events of last night replaying in my mind like a relentless reel.

The shattering glass. The gunfire. Chris yelling my name.

I sat up in bed, rubbing my hands over my face as I tried to steady my breathing. My room, my sanctuary, felt suffocating this morning. The usual comfort I found in the soft sheets and familiar walls was absent.

My phone buzzed on the nightstand, but I didn’t have the energy to look at it. I knew it was probably Chris, but I couldn’t bring myself to face him, not yet. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw his face twisted in panic, his voice pleading to know if I was okay.

I didn’t know how to feel. Part of me was grateful we were alive, but the other part, the bigger part, was furious. Furious at him, at the situation, at myself for ever stepping into his world.

Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I sat there for a moment, staring at the floor. My limbs felt heavy, like they were weighed down by more than just exhaustion. I stood up slowly and walked to the window, pulling back the curtain just enough to see the treehouse outside. It had always been my escape, my safe haven, but even it felt tainted now.

I needed to move, to do something to shake off this feeling. Dragging my feet into the bathroom, I splashed cold water on my face and stared at my reflection in the mirror. My eyes were red and puffy, a clear reminder that I’d spent most of the night crying.

After changing into some sweats, I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet, only able to hear the faint hum of the refrigerator. My parents weren’t home, thank God. I couldn’t handle their questions or concerns right now.

I poured myself a cup of coffee, but it tasted bitter, even with sugar. I left it on the counter and wandered into the living room, sitting on the couch and pulling a blanket over me. My phone buzzed again, and this time, I forced myself to look.

The tears came again, silent and unrelenting. As much as I wanted to hate him, I couldn’t. I cared about him too much. But caring about him meant being dragged into this nightmare, and I wasn’t sure if I was strong enough to handle it.

I needed water. My throat was dry, my lips cracked from how much I had cried. I walked back into the kitchen and grabbed a glass picking up the Brita pitcher from the counter. As I poured the water, my eyes caught on a note stuck to the fridge.

"Will be out for the day. Have a delivery of fabric samples coming, make sure you answer the door. Mom x"

I stared at the note for a moment. It was strange how mundane her words felt after everything that had happened. Still, it gave me a small sense of routine, a task to do, a reason to stay put. I wasn’t planning on going anywhere today, so answering the door was no problem.

I took a sip of water, letting the coolness soothe my raw throat. My mind wandered as I leaned against the counter, the events of last night still looping endlessly in my head. I felt so detached from reality, like I was floating somewhere between anger, fear, and heartbreak.

The sound of the doorbell jolted me out of my thoughts. My gaze flicked to the clock on the oven. That must be the delivery Mom mentioned. The timing was almost eerie, as if the universe was giving me a task to force me out of my spiraling thoughts.

I set the glass down and walked to the front door, tugging at the hem of my hoodie as I approached. I pulled the door open, expecting to see a courier with a box of fabric samples in hand.

But it wasn’t a delivery man.

It was Chris.

He stood there on the porch, looking a little worse for wear, a McDonald’s bag clutched in one hand, my moms delivery held in the other. His eyes searched mine, and for a moment, neither of us said anything.

“Hey” he said finally, his voice quieter than I’d ever heard it. “I.. uh, I brought breakfast.”

I stared at him, frozen in place. Part of me wanted to slam the door in his face. Another part wanted to step outside and throw myself into his arms, no matter how much I wanted to be mad at him.

“Can I come in?” he asked, shifting nervously.

I hesitated, gripping the doorframe like it might ground me. “Why are you here, Chris?” My voice came out steadier than I felt, laced with the exhaustion I couldn’t hide.

“To talk” he said, glancing down at the bag in his hand. “And to make sure you eat something. I didn’t think you’d be in the mood to cook.”

His thoughtfulness made my chest tighten, and I hated how he always seemed to know me so well. I wanted to yell at him, to demand answers, to make him understand how much pain I was in. But instead, I stepped aside and let him in.

Chris walked into the kitchen, placing the bag on the counter. He was careful, almost like he was trying not to disrupt the fragile atmosphere between us.

“You didn’t answer my messages and I-” he said softly, his back still turned to me as he pulled two McMuffins and hash browns out of the bag.

“I didn’t know what to say.” I admitted, cutting him off, standing by the doorway, my arms crossed.

He turned to face me, leaning back against the counter. “And I get that. I do. But I couldn’t just leave things like this. I needed to see you, to talk to you. And.. to make sure you’re okay.”

I scoffed, the bitterness finally bubbling to the surface. “Okay? Chris, someone shot at us. At me. How am I supposed to be okay with that?”

His expression crumpled, and he looked down at the floor, running a hand through his hair. “I know. I hate that you were there. I hate that you had to see any of that. If I could take it all back, I would. The last thing I want to do is push you away.”

I laughed bitterly, shaking my head. “Well, congratulations, Chris. You succeeded. I’m not pushed away, I’m shoved. And now I don’t even know what to think anymore.”

He stepped closer, stopping when he was only a few feet away. “Y/n, please.. I know I’ve fucked up. But I need you to know that you’re the only thing keeping me sane in all of this. I don’t know how to fix this, but I’ll do whatever it takes.”

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My emotions were tangled in a way I couldn’t unravel. Instead, I just stood there, staring at him, trying to figure out if I could trust his words, or if I was just fooling myself all over again.

Chris took a deep breath, his eyes searching mine for a sign that I’d let him continue. I stayed silent, arms crossed tightly across my chest as I leaned back against the counter. The weight of his words already felt heavy, and he hadn’t even said much yet.

“I never got to tell you this” he began, his voice low and measured, “but at Danny’s funeral.. someone tried to make a hit.”

My brows knitted together as I straightened up slightly. “What?”

“They were caught before they could do anything” he explained quickly, as if to reassure me, though his tone carried no reassurance at all. “It happened right when Nate was reading Danny’s eulogy. The guy had a gun on him, but he was spotted before anything could happen.”

I stared at him, my mind racing to connect the pieces. A hit at a funeral? While Nate was speaking?

Chris ran a hand through his hair, his frustration evident. “And then last night, before I picked you up.. I was with Nate. I saw that car, the car, snooping around his house.”

“The black sedan?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded grimly. “Yeah. It was parked down his street, just sitting there. I didn’t think much of it at the time, but then we saw it again at a gas station later.  Im assuming same car, same guys. They must’ve been tailing us, thinking it was still Nate in the car.”

The room felt like it was spinning. Everything about last night suddenly had a sharper edge, a deeper layer of terror I hadn’t fully realized in the moment. “You’re saying.. the shooting wasn’t meant for you. It was meant for Nate?”

Chris nodded again, his jaw tightening. “I’m certain of it. They thought Nate was in the car, not you.”

The air seemed to thin as I processed his words. Anger bubbled up beneath my fear, mixing into a volatile storm. “So I was just collateral damage?”

“No!” Chris said firmly, stepping closer, his hands reaching for mine, though I didn’t uncross my arms. “You were never supposed to be involved, Y/n. I never wanted you anywhere near this. I-I don't even want Nate near it anymore, but he’s-” He stopped himself, exhaling sharply. “He’s in too deep. He’s too stubborn.”

“So are you” I shot back, my voice cracking with emotion.

Chris flinched, but he didn’t deny it. Instead, he looked at me with an expression that was equal parts guilt and desperation. “I know. And I’m trying to figure out a way out. But this.. this isn’t just about me anymore, Y/n. It’s about Nate. And now it’s about you too.”

I shook my head, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. “I didn’t ask for this. I didn’t sign up for any of it.”

“I know” he said softly, his shoulders slumping. “And I’m so sorry. For all of it. For dragging you into something you should’ve never been a part of.”

For a moment, the room was silent except for the sound of my shaky breaths. I looked at Chris, trying to decide if I could trust him to keep me safe, or if staying anywhere near him was the worst decision I could make.

“You need to fix this,” I said finally, my voice steady but cold. “You need to figure out a way to get Nate out, to get yourself out. Because I can’t live like this, Chris. I won’t.”

Chris stared at me, his lips parted as if to respond, but no words came. I could see the conflict in his eyes, the weight of my ultimatum crashing down on him like a tidal wave.

“And I mean it, Chris,” I said, my voice sharper now, unwavering. “You do it. Today. I’m not waiting any longer. It’s either your Allies or your Affiliates. You decide which one you want.

His head dropped, and he let out a breath, running his hands over his face. “Y/n..” he started, but I cut him off.

“No. No excuses, no ‘I’ll figure it out’ You make a choice. Right now.” My chest was heaving as I spoke, the adrenaline surging through me making my words come out faster than I could think. “Because if you can’t.. then I can’t stay, Chris. I can’t keep doing this.”

His hands dropped to his sides, and he stepped closer, his voice quieter but laced with urgency. “You think I don’t want out? You think I’m happy living like this? Every second I’m in this life, I’m looking for a way out. For Nate. For me. For you.”

“Then do it!” I snapped, the frustration bubbling over. “Stop talking about it like it’s some impossible task and just.. do it. You’re Chris. You’re smart. You’re resourceful. You can figure this out if you really want to.”

Chris stared at me, his chest rising and falling with each shaky breath. The silence stretched between us, thick and suffocating.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll do it. I’ll make the call. Today.”

I nodded, my arms still crossed, my heart still pounding. “Good. Because this is it, Chris. No more excuses. No more waiting. It’s either me or them.”

He didn’t respond right away, just stood there, looking at me like he was trying to memorize every detail of my face. “I’ll fix this” he said again, his tone steadier now. “For you. For us.”

I wanted to believe him. For the first time in a long time, I needed to believe him. Because if he didn’t.. I wasn’t sure I could take much more.

Chris’ POV

I held her gaze, searching for any sign that she might doubt me. She didn’t speak, but the way her eyes softened told me she wanted to believe what I’d said. “By tonight, I’ll be out of this. I promise you, Y/n.” My voice was firm, but inside, I felt like I was balancing on the edge of a knife. Making promises to her was easy, but keeping them while dealing with Vince? That was going to take everything I had.

Still, right now, none of that mattered. What mattered was her, safe, here, in front of me. I pulled her into a tight hug, never wanting to let her go. We slightly swayed side to side before pulling back from each other. 

I got you hash browns, a sausage McMuffin, and an iced latte. Thought you might need something good after the night you’ve had.”

She blinked, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the exhaustion on her face. “Thanks” she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

I hesitated, watching her closely. “Did you sleep at all?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Barely” she admitted, tucking her hair behind her ear.

I nodded, concern creeping into my chest. “You need to rest, Y/n. How about this: eat breakfast in bed, and then sleep for the rest of the day. I’ll stay with you.”

Her lips parted like she was about to protest, but then she seemed to reconsider. The guarded tension in her shoulders eased slightly. “That actually.. sounds nice” she murmured, surprising me.

“Good” I said, relief washing over me. I grabbed the bag and her drink, gesturing toward the stairs. “Come on, let’s get you settled.”

We made our way upstairs, the silence between us thick but somehow comforting. Once in her room, she climbed onto the bed, sitting cross legged as I handed her the iced latte. She took a sip, her eyes momentarily lighting up with gratitude, though the tiredness still weighed heavily on her.

I sat next to her, unwrapping her food and placing it on the nightstand within reach. She ate slowly, the quiet between us filled only with the occasional rustle of the wrappers. I didn’t push her to talk, sensing she needed this, just the simplicity of being here, without questions or demands.

When she was done, she set the wrapper aside and shifted closer to me, leaning into my side. Her head rested on my shoulder, and I instinctively wrapped an arm around her, holding her close. I could feel the tension in her body begin to melt away, little by little.

After a moment, I broke the silence. “I need to send Vince a message” I said quietly.

She tensed slightly against me, her fingers stopping their absent-minded tracing on my arm. “What are you going to say?”

“I’ll tell him we need to meet later. I’ll let him know I’m done. Finished with all of it” I said, my voice steady.

She exhaled slowly, relaxing again. Her fingers resumed their soft movements against my skin. “Thank you.. for taking me seriously” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “I couldn’t bear the thought of losing you, Chris. Or the thought of you losing Nate.”

Her words hit me harder than I expected. I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, letting her warmth ground me. “You won’t lose me. I promise you that.”

She nestled closer, and I could feel her breathing start to even out. The quiet of the room was almost deafening, broken only by the faint sound of her sipping the last of her latte.

As she drifted off, I stayed still, my thoughts spinning. The weight of what I had to do pressed down on me like a vice. Tonight, I’d face Vince and make good on my promise to her. There’d be no more runs, no more deals, no more looking over my shoulder. But leaving Vince wouldn’t be easy, and I knew the risks better than anyone.

Still, for her, for us, I’d risk everything. She deserved a life without fear, without chaos, and I wanted to be the one to give it to her.

When her breathing steadied, I carefully reached for my phone, typing out a message to Vince.

Me: Need to meet later tonight. Got something to tell you.

I stared at the screen for a moment before hitting send. The message was short and to the point, and I knew it would raise questions. But that didn’t matter now.

Y/n shifted slightly against me, and I tightened my arm around her. For the first time in a long time, I felt something like hope – a fragile, flickering thing, but it was there.

As I sat there, holding her, I made a silent vow. By tonight, I’d be out of this life for good. Whatever it took.

a/n: im going to keep my mouth shut here so i dont give spoliers

taglist: @mattybearnard @sturn-33 @ncm9696 @yourfavsturniologirl @crazy4jewel @sodakid1234 @stupendoustreewinner @lovealwayssturniolos @matthewsturniolosss @m4ttsmunch @loveexxx @ilusa @starkeyszn @wonnieeluvvr @dylnblue @valxrieq @maggot3647 @cigarettecemetary @ribread03 @chrisstvrns @bandasaruswrx @noplaceissafeanymore @amexiass @witchofthehour @mattssgf @jetaimevous @v33angel @ivysturnss @urmom69lol @ashlishes @watercolorskyy @sturnioloshottiekay @amelia-sturniolo3 @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @pvssychicken @alizestvrnss @lvrsturniolo @bernardsbunny @spaghetti835928383 @marrykisskilled @sturnsxplr-25 @bxtchboy69 @vickytaa @anikaistg @matts-girlfriend @lvrsturniolo @sophand4n4 @ilovepurpledragons @mattsside @riasturns @sturnslutz @chrisstxrnsaxe

[ithinkabouttzu]

Kinktober Special: Joe Liebgott x Reader

a/n: Hey guys!! Surprise surprise! Here’s a little thing i’ve been working on and thought I should share for Halloween! I hope you gave have an amazing day today! Also please minors do not interact with this post, thanks!

word count: 1.9k

genre: smut ofc; romance

Warnings: Fingering, cursing, anything sex related tbh. ( fem! reader)

description: after a long night of waiting up for your husbands arrival, he knows just exactly how to repay you…

BoB Masterlist

You looked at the clock on the wall. 8:13 pm. It’s already 8 o'clock and Joe still wasn’t home yet. There was a quick pace in your chest as you walked up to the window near the front door. You wished to see his car pull up to the front of the driveway, but to your disappointment, there was nothing. Just the quick pats of rain that fell onto the street. Worry began to set in your heart, making you immediately assume the worst. Was he okay? Had he gotten into some sort of accident? The anxious thoughts swarmed though your head as you walked back to the reclining chair in the living room, plopping down in the seat, and rejoining your nice glass of red wine. You sighed to yourself. He should have been here by now.

The soft crackles coming from the fireplace brought a nice wave of warmth to your seat. The soft sound of music played throughout the quaint home. You weren’t familiar with the tune, other than the fact that it was sung by the soothing voice of Billie Holiday. The nice melody calmed your nerves while you waited for his return. You took the glass in your hand, and walked upstairs to the shared bedroom.

The room was dark and quiet. You could barely hear the music from upstairs. You turned on the dim light and sat down in front of your vanity. You combed the ends of your hair softly, finding any knots and combing through them gently. It was usually rare on nights like these that you wore your hair down, but it was something Joe enjoyed, maybe a little too much. You had been waiting on him for almost two hours now. Your and his dinner had already been cooked, a nice pot roast, now waiting for his arrival.

You had bathed and rid yourself of your old grimy work clothes that now laid in your room's hamper. You figured it would be nice to surprise your sweet, hard-working husband with a treat of his own. You decided for a sweet nightgown, just a thin piece of black laced sheer hung around your body. You thought it’d be best not to wear your brasserie, letting all of you show. If anyone else was in the home, they would have been able to see right through your flimsy little nightgown.

You could say that this was well deserved for Joe, all those nights of him bringing you flowers after work, or brushing your hair when you were too tired to do so yourself. The one night you decided to compensate him for his good deeds, was the night that he was late from work. You kept your makeup simple, only mascara and a red lip. You started to re-apply your red lip again, making sure the coat looked fresh, when all of a sudden the doorbell rang.

You ran to the window in the room, it was him. Joe’s car was out in the driveway. You could only assume that he was outside, currently being drenched by the strong rain. You hurried down the stairs. You made it to the door in almost no time, swinging the door open quickly that he wouldn’t be left out in the cold rain any longer.

When you opened the door, he looked frustrated. Not at you, but at the weather. Joe stomped into the house and immediately started to ramble. “Honey, I can explain.” He took off his hat and overcoat and hung them on the coat hanger, he hadn’t even taken notice of your outfit yet.

“My boss made me stay late, I tried to call you but the telephone at work was cut off, then when I got on the road traffic was horrible and…” your husband explained himself, he sounded desperate for your understanding. Also maybe a little pissed at himself for being home later than expected. You tried to listen, really, but your brain was almost immediately turned to mush by the way Joe looked in his buttoned shirt. He had obviously sat in the rain for too long, his white shirt had become see-through.

You felt your mouth salivate. His hair had curled up from the rain too, making him look fresh out of the shower. You squeezed your thighs together, hoping to release some of the pressure that resided in your pussy. You felt heat rush through your body as your husband brushed his hair back with his hand.

He looked so good. You spoke up, “You poor thing. You’re soaked. Let's get you some warm clothes, alright?” You looked up at him.

There it was. He finally noticed your outfit. Something shifted in his eyes. They became darker, more primal-like. You felt his eyes scan your body. He had no shame, he let his eyes wander all over you, taking in the scene that laid in front of him. Now it was his turn to salivate. You noticed the almost immediate swell in his pants, the outline of his cock growing with each second he kept his eyes on you. “Oh sweet girl…” He practically groaned out the words. You felt your cunt squeeze around nothing, the desperation in his voice made you weak. “Come here baby, spin around fa’ me.” His raspy voice teased, it was almost too much for you. You had been needing him all day, and you were finally getting what you wanted.

He grabbed your hand, letting you take a small spin for him. You loved feeling his sharp gaze. You knew he liked what he saw. “Fuck” he whispered a sharp curse to himself. You could see the thick dick print that outlined his pants. Poor thing. He picked you up with almost no warning, throwing you over his shoulder. You moaned in surprise. He gave you a hard smack on the ass as he carried you up the stairs. “Atta girl, so soft.” He mumbled in your ear. Once he finally made it to the room he practically threw you down onto the bed. You giggled at his impatience.

Excitement ran through your body as you heard his belt unbuckle. You raised yourself up on your elbows. “You like it?” you said, asking him about your gown.

“I love it. Fucking beautiful.” He sounded animalistic as he hurried to unbutton his shirt. He immediately joined you in the bed once he tore off his last button. He didn’t give you any moment of mercy. He dived straight into your neck, kissing and licking your sweet spot hungrily. “Honey” you sighed out of pleasure. You felt his teeth sink into your soft skin, making you slightly jump. He acted ravenous. You felt your panties flood as he continued to leave small bites all over your neck.

He groaned into the small area, now moving farther down to your collarbone. Joe took off his pants, whilst still marking up your collar. Making you feel his warm cock through his thin layer of underwear that rested on your thigh. You started to lift up your gown, ready to take it off, before he stopped you.

“No, leave it on. You look so pretty.” You shook your head in approval. He looked into your eyes deeply, dipping his mouth down to your breasts, still keeping his eyes on yours. “Can I?” He asked, looking up at you for approval. “Yes” you replied back in barely a whisper. He kissed your sternum through the thin layer of clothing. He groaned out again once he saw your naked chest. “Your titties are so fucking pretty baby, you know that?”

He wasted no time diving into you, planting a wet kiss to your soft nipple, hardening it immediately. Goosebumps ran throughout your body once again. He took his free hand to massage your other breast. His big hand felt so warm around your sensitive areola. He squeezed you softly. “You’re perfect, doll, so fucking perfect.” He managed to mumble out as he sucked on your breast. He finally decided to give your chest a break, before traveling his hands to your warm cunt.

You felt another rush of wetness dampen your panties. His finger curled at the hem of your underwear. You knew him, he wasn’t going to take them off until you asked. “Please– I need you.” You practically cried out, you failed at trying not to sound desperate.

“That’s it sweet girl.” He returned the whisper, taking a small nip at your navel. He slid your panties off quickly, and moved his body down towards your heat. He let out a loud grunt when he saw the state of your pussy. “Such a sweet cunt. I can’t wait to feel you.” His words made your head spin as he pressed his digits softly into your bundle of nerves. “Mmm.” You moaned out to him. “Feel good, baby?” He asked you while continuing his previous motion.

The feeling was overwhelming. His fingertips stayed firm on your clit, rubbing circles slowly until you felt pure pleasure. It wasn’t long before he moved his fingers to your opening. He only put one finger in first, sinking it in slowly. He gave you a second to adjust to his finger’s large size. Your walls squeezed around his finger as his thumb started to rub circles on your already swollen clit.

“Feel good?” He asked you again while pressing his finger deep inside of you, hitting that spongy spot in your walls, the feeling was almost too much. “Yes” You moaned out loudly, his deep voice making you clamp down on his finger. He cursed before mumbling about how tight you felt on him. He was going tauntingly slow, “I’m gonna add another one, okay doll?” You felt the thickness of his second finger fill up your tight cunt. He continued to massage your walls, quickening his pace once you adjusted.

Before long, you felt that familiar pressure bubbling up inside of your stomach. Without even explaining it to him, he already knew you were close. “Gonna cum?” His question sounded desperate. You felt the headboard hit the wall repeatedly, his pace making the bed shake. “Mhm” you replied, loving the way he played with your pussy. You took the last bit of energy you had left in you to look down at him. What a sight to see. Joe, on the edge of the bed, rutting himself onto the edge of the sheets just to feel some type of friction. You moaned and your eyes rolled back at the sight.

“C’mon baby, cum for me” With those words, you released the pressure that had finally been building up in your stomach. You cried out in pleasure as your release flooded all over his hand. His fingers rocked you back and forth slowly until you came down from your high. “Did you like it, sweet girl?” He made his way up to your face, moving the extra fly-aways from around your eyes. “Yes, I did.” You said in a slight whisper before yawning, your body had felt weak. Sleep would come over you sooner than later.

“Did you?” You asked him, remembering the scene that was presented before you. You could see red appear on his face when you asked him.“Couldn’t help myself.” He let out a nervous chuckle while looking down towards the wet spot on his underwear. Making it obvious that he had finished prematurely in his pants. “Let's go to bed, you need sleep, sunshine.” You agreed with him, nodding your head. Joe took off your gown and replaced it with one of his more comfortable t-shirts, before tucking you into bed with him. “Sleep well, princess.”

Thank you for reading again! I hope you all enjoy! Have a Happy Halloween! 🎃🤍

[kathlare]

drunk words, sober hearts

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After a challenging race, Lando Norris drowns his frustrations in a night out, leading to an unexpected confession of love to Amelie over FaceTime.

Wordcount: 1.3 k

Warnings: just fluff

full masterlist // request over here!

May 26th, 2024 - Monte-Carlo, Monaco

The streets of Monaco were alive with post-race energy. The Monaco Grand Prix always brought a mix of glamour, adrenaline, and unfiltered chaos, and this year was no different. Lando leaned against the marble bar in one of Monaco’s most exclusive clubs, a vodka soda in his hand. The buzz of the party surrounded him—flashing lights, pounding bass, and a crowd that only seemed to get louder as the night went on.

P4 wasn’t what he’d wanted, especially in Monaco, but it was respectable. And after the whirlwind of media interviews, debriefs, and congratulating Max on yet another win, he’d decided he deserved a night off. His friends—Max Fewtrell, some of his McLaren crew, and a few other familiar faces—had quickly convinced him that drowning his frustration in drinks and music was the only way to go.

By midnight, Lando was well and truly drunk. His usually sharp mind felt fuzzy, his words slurred, and everything around him seemed twice as funny as it actually was.

Max clapped him on the back. —Mate, you’re smashed.—

Lando laughed, spilling a bit of his drink. —Yeah? That’s the point, isn’t it?—

Max rolled his eyes but grinned. —You’ve earned it. P4’s not bad.—

—Not great either,— Lando muttered, though the alcohol was doing a decent job of dulling his disappointment.

Somewhere between another drink and a failed attempt at dancing, Lando’s thoughts wandered to Amelie. She wasn’t here—wasn’t in Monaco or even in the same timezone. She was in Indianapolis, filming Stranger Things, which meant she was probably on set right now.

He missed her.

He missed her laugh, her quick wit, and the way she could tease him relentlessly and still make him feel like the luckiest guy in the room. And the more he drank, the more that ache in his chest grew.

Without thinking it through, Lando pulled out his phone and stumbled onto FaceTime. Her name was right at the top of his favorites.

Meanwhile Amelie sat cross-legged on the couch in her apartment, a script resting on her lap. Her cats, Benny and Björn, were sprawled out beside her, Benny lazily swatting at the edge of the script while Björn snored softly.

The clock read 8:30 PM—late, but not too late. She had an early call time the next day and was debating whether to stay up or crash early when her phone buzzed.

She frowned at the screen. Lando calling.

It was unusual for him to call her at this hour, especially with the time difference. She swiped to answer, her lips curving into a smile as his face appeared on the screen.

Or, more accurately, part of his face. The camera was angled awkwardly, showing a blurry close-up of his chin and the edge of a drink.

—Lando?— she said, laughing. —What’s going on?—

—Amelie!— he shouted, his voice loud and slurred.

Her smile faded into a look of amusement and concern. —Are you drunk?—

—I might be,— he admitted, his grin lopsided. —I just...just wanted to see you.—

Amelie’s heart softened. —Well, you’re seeing me, idiot. What’s up?—

—I miss you,— he said, his tone suddenly serious.

She paused, her heart skipping a beat. —I miss you too, Lan. But it sounds like you’ve had a bit too much to drink.—

—I don’t care,— he said stubbornly, his words tumbling out in a rush. —I love you, Amelie.—

Her breath caught.

—What?— she whispered, her mind racing.

—I love you,— he repeated, his voice cracking slightly. —Like... fuck, I’m so drunk, but I mean it. I fucking love you.—

Amelie’s world tilted. They’d been dating for six months, and while their relationship was filled with passion and affection, they’d never said those words. Hearing them now, in the middle of the night, from a very drunk Lando, left her stunned.

—Lando,— she began, her voice soft.

—Say it back,— he mumbled, his head leaning heavily against his hand.

She bit her lip, torn between laughter and tears. —I love you too,— she finally said, the words feeling both terrifying and freeing.

His face lit up, even through the haze of alcohol. —Really?—

—Really,— she confirmed. —But we need to talk about this when you’re sober, okay?—

—Okay,— he agreed, his head lolling to the side. —G’night, Amelie.—

—Goodnight, Lan. Be safe.—

The next day, Lando woke up to the sharp sting of sunlight streaming through his bedroom window. His head throbbed, his mouth was dry, and his phone lay on the pillow beside him.

—Fuck,— he muttered, rubbing his temples.

Bits and pieces of the night before started coming back to him. The club. The drinks. And... calling Amelie.

—Oh no,— he groaned, unlocking his phone to find a string of messages from her.

Ames💛:Morning, drunky. Call me when you’re alive. We need to talk.

He winced, running a hand through his messy curls.

Lando took a deep breath, forcing himself to sit up despite the pounding in his head. The words “we need to talk” felt more terrifying than crashing into the barriers at Sainte Dévote.

Still, he wasn’t one to avoid things, especially not when it came to Amelie. He loved her, didn’t he? He’d said it—loudly, drunkenly, and probably incoherently—but he’d meant every word.

He quickly downed some water and a couple of aspirin before grabbing his phone and dialing her number.

Amelie had just finished her morning coffee, still in her pajamas, the soft Indiana sunlight filtering through her apartment windows. When her phone buzzed, she saw his name flash on the screen.

—Hello, lover boy,— she answered, a playful lilt in her voice.

Lando groaned. —Amelie, don’t start.—

—Oh, I’m starting,— she teased, leaning back on her couch. —So... how’s the hangover?—

—Bloody awful,— he admitted, rubbing his temples. —But that’s not important. We need to talk about what I said last night.—

Her teasing demeanor softened. —Yeah, we do.—

There was a pause, the weight of the conversation settling between them.

—Look,— Lando began, his voice quiet but steady, —I know I was drunk, but I meant what I said. I wasn’t just saying it because of the vodka or... whatever else I drank. I love you, Amelie.—

She swallowed hard, her heart racing. Hearing him say it again, this time sober, made it feel even more real.

—I love you too, Lando,— she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

The line was silent for a moment, the enormity of their words hanging in the air.

—Why didn’t we say it sooner?— he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and regret.

—I don’t know,— she admitted. —Maybe because it’s terrifying? I mean, this... us... it’s been amazing, but it’s also a lot. And I guess I didn’t want to ruin it by saying the wrong thing.—

—You could never ruin it,— he said firmly. —You mean too much to me for that.—

Her chest tightened at his sincerity. Lando might have been a goof most of the time, but when it came to her, he never held back.

—I think I was scared,— she confessed. —Scared that if I said it and you didn’t feel the same, it would hurt. Or that saying it would change things.—

—Change things how?— he asked, his voice softer now.

—Make it... heavier,— she explained, struggling to find the right words. —We’ve been so good together, Lan. I didn’t want to add pressure or expectations.—

—I get that,— he said after a moment. —But, Amelie, loving you doesn’t feel heavy. It feels... right. Like it’s the easiest thing in the world.—

Tears pricked her eyes at his words.

—God, why are you so good at this?— she laughed, wiping at her face.

—It’s because I’m British,— he joked, earning a soft laugh from her. —Seriously, though. I love everything about you, Ames. The way you’re so passionate about your work, the way you’re kind to everyone around you, even the way you tease me about my stupid dance moves.—

—They are really bad,— she quipped, her voice lighter now.

—Yeah, yeah,— he said with a grin. —But my point is, I’m in this. All of it. With you. And I don’t want to hold back anymore.—

Amelie felt like her heart might burst. She’d known she loved him for weeks now, maybe even months, but hearing him say these things made it all feel so much bigger—and so much better.

—I’m in this too,— she said, her voice steady despite the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. —Completely. And I don’t want to hold back either.—

Lando let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. —Good. Because I don’t think I could survive another day of pretending I’m not completely obsessed with you.—

She laughed, the sound warm and genuine. —Obsessed, huh?—

—Absolutely,— he said, his grin audible through the phone. —I’m madly in love with you, Amelie Dayman. And I’m going to remind you of it every single day.—

—Careful, Norris,— she teased. —That sounds like a challenge.—

—It is,— he replied confidently. —And I intend to win.—

—Alright,— she said, smiling so hard her cheeks hurt. —But just so you know, I’m pretty competitive too.—

—Perfect,— he said. —Game on.—

The conversation shifted after that, flowing back into the playful, teasing dynamic that had always defined their relationship. But now, there was something more—something deeper and unshakable.

For the first time, they’d said the words. And nothing had ever felt so right.

[ciaomarie]

The Bear S3 Thoughts/Feelings at 4am

Warning: So much hateration below. I'm disappointed overall. It's gorgeously shot and the acting is still top tier from the main cast, but OOF.

See below the cut

I want to say this first. Napkins, Tina's episode, was lovely. Okay, moving forward...

The first couple episodes started off so strong and then….what was this?!?I LOVED THE FIRST EPISODE SO MUCH. Episode 2 was pretty good, but soon the energy was off, it was painfully slow in some places, THE FAKS ARE NOT FUNNY, Claire "haunted" the whole season and it wasn't even her fault. Most of the "comedy" came from those Fak morons, instead of our LEADS, like Richie for example. It got so bad, I faced an existential crisis during "Ice Chips." I literally started thinking, "It's just a show. It doesn't matter." Seriously, I have real life problems and this show is not only, not an escape right now, but who cares?!?!

Anyways, Donna and Nat acted their butts off, but Ep 8 was too long when we needed more development from the others. And where was Carmy during the delivery?!!? And finally Sydcarmy, FINE, if they want to go the platonic route, after placing her at the literal center of his relationship all S2, but it felt like their soul connection was severed now. They teased us so bad at the end of Ep 1, gave us a trickle in the ep 2-3, and then...nothing, unless you count Syd's panic attack. My heart dropped when she wasn't the first to notice how messed up Carmy was at the Ever dinner. Plus, he's hasn't picked up on her inner turmoil for weeks!!!!! Aren't these two supposed to be close friends with a shared passion according to Chris, Joana, Ayo, Jeremy, and the Anti-BW/WM Brigade on Reddit? I doubt I'll be staying up until 4am to binge S4 next year.

Did Chris and Joana let the acclaim get to their heads and they fell off? Matty (Neil Fak) is a producer, but is he blackmailing them to be in 9/10 episodes?? John Cena's cameo felt like it was 4 hours.

Saddest part I have to go back to. I guess the cast really wasn't lying about Sydcarmy for S3. Basically, Syd and Carmy barely know each other anymore. I HATE IT HERE. Looking forward to other more positive takes on the season and Sydcarmy.