#when he dedicated so much of his time to his work | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

rahuratna · 1 day ago

Text

All right, to start with, I'm always a sucker for great world building and alternate settings, and this piece reflects exactly that. Before I get into the meat of the story, a couple of things:

This story is written in such a way that each paragraph feels like a cog in a larger timepiece, ticking inexorably to its passionate conclusion. I'm not sure how you managed that, but it contributes so much to the development of sexual tension between them, and the reader is placed on a little clockwork cart and pitched along at the pace you set. This control you exert over the pacing is just excellent.

Second, I love stories that transport you to a place of almost isolation, where descriptions of people and places are so vivid, but intentionally slip by you by like scenery on a journey, because the electricity between the main characters is your destination, what you're fixed upon. It's reflective of that true passion between lovers, where love becomes a cocoon and the world patters against the outside, never breaking the spell you cast upon one another.

As someone who worked in a lab, and moved to a profession where I'm pretty much surrounded by large numbers of people daily, I feel Nanami, lol. I would also love the quiet refuge of a place where I dedicate myself to my work. The evolution of the attraction between him and the Reader feels almost inevitable from the time she passes his test. The solution she finds is direct, breaking down a problem that seems complex into simpler parts to achieve an end, the very essence of creating timepieces.

The sexual tension is also drawn into this theme of elaborate dance, precision and timing. Kento's hands using the Reader's to 'perform miracles', the intimacy of such a position made necessary by work, the way his presence is so strong but never overbearing, all captures the essence of Kento as a romantic/sexual partner.

Also, I LOVE the way the references to the time period make it very clear where and when we are, without ever needing to be explicitly stated. The mention of the lamplighter, of Spring Heeled Jack, were all exactly the thing I needed on this rainy afternoon. For atmosphere. Yes. Lol. I mean, yes, I too would give Reader a piece of my mind for wandering around after dark, especially after an allusion to the Whitechapel murders are made.

Please don't kill me for this: She wanted to deliver the package, but ended up with a bigger one LMAO. At least the man is self aware, he knows he's no size for a first timer. The descriptions of the undressing as an act by itself is so telling. It's such a contrast to the order and mechanical rhythm of their day to day interaction, a loss of that fine veneer of gentility, a reveal of the 'animal' beneath that Kento speaks of. The loss of clockwork to the primacy of passion, unwrapped one layer at a time, is the best backdrop for the explicit nature of what happens between them.

The action of wetting his fingers with her saliva to put out the candle is so inspired. It's almost thoughtless in execution, a tell for how much he's been fantasizing about this.

I think my favourite part of this, strangely, was the way you wrote how they approached the bed. The description of how he knows the lay of the corridor between their rooms so well, because of the number of times he's paced it, his room, a place of peace and order about to be transformed into something so much more, your description of him 'stalking' her slowly up the bed as a continuation of the theme of a beast dressed in 'fine tailoring' was what really stood out for me.

The sex scene itself was such a great juxtaposition to the charade of proper conduct they carry out in the workshop each day, and the Reader character's direct nature, seen in the way she discovers her own sexual freedom through him, is reflected so well here too.

Another thing I've picked up is that although Nanami is clearly the dominant and leading partner to begin with, and it's reflected in what he says, his actions give her agency and the ability to explore what gives her pleasure, and there's nothing hotter than that. The idea of her falling pregnant doesn't seem an unnaturally conceived notion at all, because it comes through very clearly that she knows what she wants, and she always has. It's what drew him to her in the first place.

Finally, the conversation between them after passion has spent itself; while it seems on the surface that he's returning to his clockwork self, that's not it at all. That's who he always has been, he's just allowed the Reader to take him apart, expertly with pleasure, to see his innermost workings, and put him back together after. For someone like Kento, in this fic, that's such a declaration of deep trust and love. It expands on the title even further, one watchmaker recognises another in the art and synchronicity that builds between them, and in that, finds a complete masterwork.

Thank you for this atmospheric and beautiful read on a rainy afternoon, Haitch.

The Watchmaker

Newly employed as the assistant to a renowned watchmaker, you soon discover how deeply his obsessions run.

Warnings: 18+, boss/assistant relationship, mutual longing, loss of virginity, fingering (f!receiving), nipple play, hand job (m!receiving), creampie, gentle manhandling (consensual), breeding hints, gentle period-drama Nanami snippety-snaps and becomes unhinged, two desperate people getting far too sexy over timepieces and pots of tea

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

It was unusual for a lone young woman to be lodged and apprenticed by a single man; and, yet, it came to be, when you alone passed the Watchmaker's interview.

You approached on dry cobblestones, to a handsome, deep shop, with glossy black and gold railings and doors. Your corset felt heavy with the city's summer humidity; the river held the heat like a simmering pan, and its heady stench threatened to consume you. You were used to being without a chaperone, but your modest dress and poor accompaniment drew more wayward glances in this part of the city.

You hurried into the shop, a brass bell above the door tinkling your arrival. Nobody came to greet you. You followed the voices to the back, the eyes of many timepieces following you, their ticking as whispers and gossip in your wake. You came, in time, down tiled steps to a workshop, warm and bright and full of men...naturally.

A single, cursive note graced a sign before the only remaining workbench.

Repair the clock.

Such meagre instructions for a sought-after job. In golden lamplight, a pile of cogs and a loose-handed clock face glimmered like dragon hoard. You cast your eyes, stroking your corset and heavy skirts. You nodded once, and reassured yourself, only once.

"You can do this."

The Watchmaker, a tall man whose broad shoulders and thick hands did not suggest one with a delicate touch, neither agreed nor disagreed; he simply watched, silently observing you like the many faces of his timepieces. You set to work before your audience. The Watchmaker came and went, seeking to observe the half-dozen men competing alongside you.

And, in time, half a dozen sweating young men failed one, by one, by one. The Watchmaker's disgust was apparent, and his sneers soured one, by one, by one, until the last young hopeful curdled like milk before him.

When the Watchmaker came to you, you and your box of gold were not at your station. He frowned, kept company only by muted ticks and tocks. He followed your trail, out to his walled garden.

The test would have been considered a 'trick' only by those who were angry that their lack of respect for precision and accuracy had been identified. You, who could not fathom such sloppiness, found an honest solution.

"A sundial?" The Watchmaker rumbled. You felt a rush of heat from fingertips to toes, untouched by such a voice before. Smoothing your skirts again, and finishing your adjustments to hide the heat in your cheeks, you nodded.

You had fashioned your clock face and myriad small clock pieces to form a glimmering sundial. You had positioned it just so, and confirmed its position with the time shown on your own, battered pocket watch.

The Watchmaker circled you, with narrow eyes that may contain humour were they not so scrutinising. He was impeccably tailored, you noted; a high, crisp collar and rolled back white sleeves revealed enough throat and forearm to make you sweat. An exquisite navy waistcoat nipped his waist only marginally more than his tied apron, and he hummed at your sundial.

"Not what I'd call accurate."

"I disagree. While it may not be very precise, it is accurate. The cogs for the clock couldn't be set in such a way as to make the seconds correct. They were always just out. But you already knew that, didn't you?"

He almost smiled; his eyes certainly did. Nodding, and not one for hyperbolic praise, he bowed, instead.

"Nanami Kento. I would be privileged to offer you the role as my apprentice."

The earth formed a springboard, launching you to heaven, and it wrenched the breath from your lungs on the way. Checking yourself before you babbled over with incredulous tears, you choked out an answer on a sloppy curtsey.

"Even though-- even though I'm a woman?"

A scoff. "I don't see how that's relevant."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Mr.Nanami sought your constant presence.

A natural timekeeper, himself, he sought the company of those like him, who would not expect him to partake in social niceties and small-talk. It was no wonder, then, that he became a Watchmaker, whose many-natured friends had the same face but twice a day.

While Nanami Kento was normally at peace in ticking solitude, the many hands and ceaseless seconds had eventually, as the years went by, begun to grind into an aching loneliness.

You felt it, as summer crisped to autumn, and frosted to winter-- his desire for your company. The way his obsession bloomed to include you alongside his timepieces. The way he lingered in doorways while you handled the customers' repairs. The way he seemed breathless when your smile sent another happy patron on their way. The way he would flinch if you brushed past him.

And god, how it burned you. Eyes downcast in reverence could not remain so for long, so magnetised were they to him. His silences were rarely cold, but rather, simply those of one who held his tongue until he had something to say; a far cry from the men you knew, who sought to usurp the monarchial peace through vocal domination.

Learning such craft at Mr.Nanami's thick, calloused hands, required intimate proximity; he would have to lean around you, at points, with his chest to your back. He moved your hands within his, teaching you the dexterity needed to repair a tiny watch with surgical precision. He leaned like this around you now. You could barely breathe.

"You were not wrong. Though not strictly right, either," he murmured in your ear, his breath grazing over your cheek. His hands held the tools in yours, using your body to perform miracles. You felt faint, flushed, hot against his body, and breathed a shaking breath, quiet in your frustration so as not to disturb the sleeping cogs.

"I want to be perfect, I-- I need it--"

An amused hum, used to your angry tiny mechanics. "You are perfect, thank you. Now let us make the pocket watch match."

As your hands worked in tandem, and another impossibly tiny cog found its home, you gasped in delight, relieved, and not thinking.

"Ah, yes, Kento, we--"

Mr.Nanami stiffened behind you. You backpedaled.

"Ah-- I mean, Mr.Nanami-- I'm so sorry--"

He did not seem upset, though his ears reddened as he stepped away from you. He murmured again, unused to being perceived.

"No, no-- it's quite alright-- I use your given name, after all."

With his face flat but his eyes alight, when you looked up at him in wary apology, he sought to reassure you with a smile.

"Really, please-- please do call me Kento."

"It feels...wrong."

"I...would not seek to make you uncomfortable. It is entirely of your preference."

Your heart drowned out the whispering whirrs of the room. You heard the tap of Mr.Nanami's feet as he ascended the workshop stairs, and blurted out.

"--Kento, I'll...I'll call you Kento. Please."

A pause. Another silence. Kento's voice tightened with something altogether more intimate.

"I fear I shall get used to it far too quickly."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

Too long were you lingering in your respective doorways, before bed. Too sweet, were the shared evenings in a firecrackle sitting room. Too electrifying, were the hands that met to pour just one more cup. Too intentional were the slim-eyed stares that burned down to the very bones of you.

If you died, and committed your body to science, the ghost of you would be unsurprised if a surgeon found Nanami Kento's name scored across your ribs; for nobody else could access that cage to your heart and soul.

Nobody else could warm you, during Winter fairs on the frozen river.

Nobody else could take your hand, to help you down the stairs at the Timepiece Exhibition.

Nobody else could still you with a look, or teach you with such few words, and this was so wrong, so wrong, he's your teacher your mentor your--

Your peak hit you in a burst of static. You clasped your hand over your own mouth, as if it would sell you out for your filthy crimes. Still, you arched in your bed, your toes curling against the sheets, bucking up into nothing in waves. Clarity did not hit you after, for it had already hit you during, and had done nothing to still your fingers.

Rolling over, and pressing your face into your pillow after the ecstasy had passed, you held your breath. It was too quiet.

Your eyes sprung open. The muffled bustling you had heard from the bedroom next door, had stopped. You weren't sure when. The silence was deafening...until movement started again, more clipped than it had been before. You could feel him, moving with irritation, a prowling beast in a cage.

It was over an hour before Kento's own hand travelled down his belly, to grasp himself with whispered curses and pleas of your name. Long enough, he hoped, for you to be asleep. Long enough, he hoped, that he could hide this rampant obsession that was so wrong, so wrong, he's your teacher your mentor your--

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"I should think I'll be home for tea. Inspector Aberline's grandfather clock again. It has stage fright, I fear, for how often the Inspector stares at it."

Kento's words, from hours before, rolled through your mind again and again. The smile you had sent your final patron of the day on his way with, slipped away, for you saw the lamplighter beginning his rounds on the cobbles outside. The sun had already set; he was late, tonight. You'd have offered him a lantern, but without Kento beside you, you felt you would need its warmth and light more.

Your eyes flickered to a package on the desk. It was imperative, Kento had said, that this was delivered to the customer today. 'Today', as a concept, was growing increasingly more abstract as it threatened to expire.

You saw the deep, dark circles under Kento's eyes, in your mind's eye. He had not been sleeping well. He needed the rest. You could not bear to see him overburdened.

Taking a deep breath, and undoing your apron to replace it for your heavy coat and gloves, you tucked the package under your arm, locked up to the tune of the tinkling bell, and stole away through the night like a thief in the dark.

Clacking across cobblestones, and trying to diminish the noise of your boots upon them, you walked for what felt like miles. Though you were sure you were safe, in this part of the city, the darkness turned shadows into beasts of great renown.

Spring-Heeled Jack stalked you from the shadows. You clutched the package closer, walking faster, breathing harder--

"What the hell are you doing out here, at this time of night?"

You squealed, and flattened against a red brick wall. Kento, imperious and huge in a heavy brown overcoat, glowered down at you with unbridled rage.

"The package," you squeaked, brandishing it as a shield, "you said-- said it needed to be delivered--"

"And it is not your place to take it upon yourself to do so. Returning to find you gone, out delivering a bloody package, while there's a killer on the loose? Extraordinary." The coldness that Kento reserved only for others, now directed at you, was a bitter sting.

Still; Kento held out his arm, stiff. His lip curled when you did not immediately take it. He grew frosty as he waited, and you slipped your arm into his, to a mollified grumble.

"Come," Kento rumbled, arresting you in a hold so intimate against his side, "let us not waste a journey. The customer isn't far from here. It shall give you time to think about your foolish choices."

You felt furious tears prickle behind your eyes. Like a dog with a bone, Kento struggled to let his anger go, and you snapped up at him, "Give it a rest. You're not my husband--"

"--yet, if it would allow me any sort of say over your safety, perhaps I should be your husband." Kento had frozen, looming over you. Your belly twisted, your face hot. You turned aside, chastised like a child.

"I'm no girl," you whispered, venomous, "I can take care of myself--"

"In a world that places no value on women, why should you ever feel safe? Out here, instead of in my--"

It was Kento's turn to redden. His jaw clenched. His fingers tapped upon the package. You felt righteous anger bubbling over, and rolled the dice, in a stabbing final gambit.

"In your what, sir? In your workshop? In your arms? Or in your bed?"

Kento's stony impassivity was tested, but remained steadfast even against your snapping. But you knew him, now; you saw how his chest hitched, heard his knuckles crack, and caught the faintest flare of his nostrils. Ducking his head for a moment, and dramatised by lamplit shadow, he stepped in just once to whisper above your ear.

"You forget yourself. I am your mentor, and you are my assistant, and--"

"--and I've had enough of you pretending that's all we are--"

"--and it's hard enough not bursting into your room at night when I hear your fingers drag my name from your mouth, so if you will be so kind as to cease and desist, I will not have to press you against this damn wall to hold your tongue with my own."

His hissing reproach doused the argument with ice water. Numb-footed and stunned, you walked through treacle, as Kento dragged you to deliver the package. Your chest was still thickened by mortification by the time you approached the Watchmakers' familiar iron railings.

You found yourself pressed inside, hearing the door bolted with force. Kento's hands softened as they removed your coat from your shoulders.

"Bed," he snapped. Kento turned his back to you to light a waxdrip candle. White shirtsleeves billowed from the shoulders of his waistcoat, and he checked his pocket watch as if it would give him the answer. You reached one hand out, to bunch in the back of his waistcoat, as if a child, and he snapped again.

"Alone."

You flinched. You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath. You swallowed hard, rolling the dice again.

"I hear you, too. In your room at night. The walls are thin."

"So is my patience, young lady, I will not tolerate--"

"You treat me like a girl to distance yourself from me, but pleasure yourself to my name? Please. You can make a fool of yourself but don't make a fool out of me--"

Kento spun with a growl, lifting you by the waist to drop you upon the counter. You squeaked, gripping his shoulders to steady yourself when he closed the gap between you.

"Do not act as if you know," Kento whispered, low and slow, "what it's like to feel like an animal in fine tailoring. Do not act as if you know what it means to be reduced so, that I must spill myself onto my belly every night, to preserve your virtue.

I do not blame you, naturally-- it's my burden entirely-- but if you add one more ounce to my shoulders with that incorrigible little mouth of yours, I'm afraid your virtue shall be...under threat."

You couldn't deny the heat pooling between your thighs, now, trapped as it was by Kento's taut body. You couldn't deny your craving for such fabled bliss.

"How does it feel," you whispered, your hand creeping up the buttons of his waistcoat to stroke the silk of his cravat, "Kento? How does it feel? Do you use your hand, or--"

An agonal little choke broke past Kento's high collar. His eyes begged you to stop him. You felt his long fingers twitch on your waist.

"Do not ask me--"

"Please," you whispered again, just as desperate as him, "please, I need to know, I can't keep living life in the dark--"

"My hand," Kento choked out, his chest barrelling with the weight of his breaths, "I use my hand. But even in the dark, I can't seem to convince myself that it-- that it's--"

You felt him falter, and you begged him, your tugging loosening his cravat enough to see his throat bob behind it. Kento whined, begging in kind. His face twisted, as if the thuds of pleasure lengthening his cock were hurting him. The torture was sweet; you felt it, too.

"Don't make me say it," Kento pleaded, nose to nose and nuzzling from side to side, "I can't take it--"

"You can-- you can take me--"

"--you don't know what you're saying--"

"--I do, Kento, please--"

"--don't know what you're sacrificing--"

"--you wouldn't," you pressed, feeling his hands moving against his wishes to unbutton the back of your dress, "you wouldn't sacrifice me, I know, so just--"

Kento groaned, a sound so sinful, just to feel your dress release and slip down over your shoulders. Pinching the ends of your sleeves, with his fingertips grazing your palms and inner wrists until you shivered, he pulled. A gossamer shift of white ghosted over your skin.

"So many layers, upon a lady," Kento murmured against your lips, "like unwrapping a gift."

He sounded drunk, and the honeyrich pools of his eyes had darkened. You couldn't pinpoint the moment his resolve had crumbled, but crumble it did, with the tick-tocking eyes of many upon you. Kento grazed his fingers against your lips, ordering in a whisper.

"Open." You didn't have to, your jaw already slack as promise burned you at the edges. Kento swiped his thumb and forefinger across your tongue with a groan, and reached out, snuffing the candle between them.

What dim light there had been, died. None that breathed would hold court or witness to what Kento was about to do to your virtue.

"This will not happen only once," Kento murmured against your neck, his tongue darting out to taste you until you mewled. He cursed to hear it, becoming more unhinged by the minute. "I will take your maidenhood as a lover, but take your hand as my wife. You cannot refuse."

You could refuse-- you knew you could, in absolute safety, but such refusal would take his mouth from you with immediate effect. His hands would cease their insistent glide up, and up, beneath your skirts. He would stop rutting forwards against nothing, with each whimper that left your lips. He would no longer drag your bodice down with his teeth, to suckle at the plump swell of your breasts.

You nodded, breathless, your hands shaking against the buttons of Kento's waistcoat. He grunted as it fell open, and your hands settled upon his waist. His graze against your neck was more insistent, now, and sloppier; hungry, open mouthed kisses that suckled the salt from your skin. Occasionally, you heard him murmur, begging to you, or to his god, or to himself, for any sort of release.

Overtaken by need, you finished unbuttoning his trousers, and tangled your fingers in his hair, instead.

"Don't know what you're doing," Kento mumbled, drunker by the minute, "going to ruin you, I-- I'll ruin you-- I'm no sensible size for a virgin--"

"So you suggest I find some other man?" You panted, "You suggest I find someone smaller--"

"They don't fucking deserve you," Kento spat, forcing the last of your skirts up to grind himself at your core until you whined. With your corset untied, Kento tossed it to the floor behind him with disdain, and yanked the final layer down to free your breasts.

Shuddering, he gripped his cock to restrain himself.

"Divine," Kento whispered, ducking to nuzzle against the tips of your breasts, "I have to-- please allow me to--"

Without waiting for an answer, Kento lapped your nipple into his mouth with a groan. Suckling until you pleaded his name, with hot bursts of pleasure to your core, Kento's hands reached the crest of your thighs, and groaned to find more layers in the way.

"Buy you some more," he grunted against your breasts, gripping the fabric between strong fingers to shred it apart, "my apologies-- now, just-- oh, fuck, I--"

His fingers had slipped between your folds to glide through them. Needing to see you arch against the sudden intrusion, Kento pressed you back until you were lying on the counter, and loomed over you. You caught sight of him for the first time in minutes.

Kento was utterly dishevelled, unabashed, and too far gone. With his cravat and waistcoat hanging loose, and a long, thick swell beneath what remained of his unbuttoned trousers, he looked more debauched than your wildest fantasies. He twitched with the spurt of pre-cum that left his cock, to see you spread out before him.

Sniffing, and dragging one hand back through his parted hair, Kento scoffed at your look of glassy-eyed wonderment. His fingers curled through your lips until that sought-after arch graced his eyes, and you mewled again, your thighs clamping around his hips

"More than one of us can be reduced to a beast," he growled, circling your clit with calloused fingertips, "as you have insisted. I've taught you with these fingers before. Let us teach you something new; how it feels to peak upon the hands of a man."

"--o-oh god, oh god oh god--"

A bark of laughter, "--he won't help you now--"

"--oh, sir--"

"Try again."

"K-Kento!" You chastised through blinding pleasure. Kento chuckled again, intoxicated and made ruthless by it, and holding you flat by the belly as his hands worked miracles on your core.

"That's it-- good girl--"

The way he praised you had always brought you to a blush, but how he growled his praises while he fingered you to completion was another entity entirely.

Your hips rolled up, trying to fill the emptiness that his fingers alone couldn't. Your body was rendered base with pleasure, and nature's insistence that such passiveness should be used to leave your belly full of seed.

You could see that, too, in his eyes; an urge; a hunger that belied his gentle nature. In sudden clarity, you understood his cry of agony, from mere minutes before: 'Do not act as if you know what it's like to feel like an animal in fine tailoring.'

"--K-Kento, I-- I don't know if I'll-- it's too much, aches-- augh--"

Your approaching peak threatened to overwhelm you, and you squirmed and begged, though you knew not what for. Kento pinned you, with one splayed hand on your belly, and whispered you on.

"That's it-- don't be afraid...shhh, now. Good girl-- that's it-- beautiful--"

You came with thigh-clamping bursts of ecstasy, so sharp and static by the hands of another, that your belly ached and cramped with the force of the spasms. Kento's fingers slowed, massaging the pleasure out of you at length, though you could feel his body growing heavy with the weight of self-restraint.

You felt yourself twitching, crunching forwards involuntarily, with little more than broken whimpers and cries as he talked you down. Though, as clarity dawned in supple bliss, you felt he may be trying to talk himself down.

"...good...that's good, that's enough, I...I am satisfied, I..."

Kento lied to himself so exquisitely, as if he didn't palm his cock with one trembling hand. As if he hadn't pulled his shirt off to relieve the prickling heat of his skin. As if he couldn't kiss you because that, oddly, would be the intimacy that broke the dam.

You broke it for him, sitting up and wrapping your arms around his neck so he couldn't rear away from you. He tried, at first, with a grunt of surprise, gripping you by the waist. Feeling your lips against his rendered him dumb again, feral and nuzzling his nose to yours, like an addict in a field of poppies.

"Please-- I'm afraid I won't-- won't be gentle--"

"Bed," you whispered against his lips, "not alone."

Kento groaned again, cupping his hands beneath your thighs to lift you, and carry you up the narrow wooden staircase. He knew every shoeworn step in the dark; knew where the corridor dipped; knew the amount of steps between his bedroom door and yours, so many times had he paced between the two.

With his curtains un-drawn, only the cold winter moonlight lit the room. Meticulous, uniform possessions left meticulous, uniform shadows. The whole room smelled of Kento; of soft wax, leather and musk. In his room, in his arms as one leg flicked the door deftly closed behind him, felt like being brought home.

"If I show you how," Kento whispered, laying you on his bed, just to stalk you slowly up to his pillows, "will you...can I..."

You'd have said yes to anything. Without knowing exactly what Kento asked for, you nodded. He saw the absolute trust in your eyes, and stiffened, his eyes darkening with something more profound than need.

"Do you know what physical love entails?" He rumbled, nosing against your neck again, and depriving you of the first kiss you so desperately craved. "Do you know what it is, to be taken?"

You swallowed hard, feeling lead weights in your still twitching belly. You cursed the society that had sought your submission through ignorance.

"We...are supposed to fit together," you whispered, to Kento's satisfied rumble. Stil, it was not enough; you knew he would not continue past his insistent suckling of your throat, if you showed true ignorance, so you mumbled past your blushes.

"You...press yourself inside me, until...until you..."

"...go on."

"Until...you finish, like--like--"

"...like you did, on my fingers. Except, your completion simply fills my soul...metaphorically speaking. My completion fills you literally."

Your hand had trailed down his bare chest, reverent at his form, so different to your own and witnessed before only in fine art and statues. He didn't stop you as your hand trailed lower. He simply fixed you with a stare, that was half hope and half despair.

With rising breaths, you looked down between your bodies as you freed him. Animalistic relief twitched across Kento's shoulders, for the release from his confines. He groaned into your throat, husky in a way that made you throb. You longed to see his pleasure as he had seen yours.

Tentative, you grazed his length with the barest fingertips. Rigid, woody, hot, velvety, wet at the tip and so long and--

"Oh," you breathed, gripping him and feeling his heartbeat through his sex, and utterly unsure what you had expected, "feels...good--"

Kento breathed harshly, and had dropped onto his elbows above you, his face twisted in agony. He panted, fractious.

"Don't-- do not--"

Your hand flinched away, horrified for having hurt him, and he cursed, rolling off you to sit, strewn and messy and barely dressed, against the head of the bed. Your eyes fixed again on his manhood, heavy and twitching against his belly.

"I won't touch-- I'm sorry--"

"Don't stop," Kento emphasised, breathless, "don't...dont stop."

With a flush of heat in your cheeks, you understood the nature of Kento's agony, and it only made you hungrier. Crawling over him in the barest white undergown, to straddle his thighs and sit upon them, you reached out to grip him with one trembling hand again. Kento arched, moaning that rusty, desperate moan again.

"Show me? Like you do in...in the workshop."

"God, your hand is so sweet--" With his own hand, big enough to engulf yours, he wrapped around your grip to his length. Slowly, deliberately, and watching where your hands clasped around him with sweat on his brow, Kento used your hand to pump himself.

Feeling the glide of silk on iron made your core wetten and clench. Watching how Kento moaned, bucking into your joined fists and reaching up behind him to grip the pillows, was hypnotic. Within seconds, your hand had begun to move independently of his, stroking him with raw determination to witnessq his unravelling.

Kento groaned in time with your rhythmic strokes. His newly freed fist bunched, instead, at your hip, having rucked your slip aside to dimple shaking fingertips in the plush of your curves. You began to squeeze a little tighter at the tip, twisting a little, and making Kento see stars.

"Hah--haaaaah-- don't-- don'tstop-- better than any dream-- good girl, please, please--"

Your thumb swiped without warning across a bead of wetness that had seeped from the slit in his tip, and Kento swore, bucking hard enough to make you chirp and grip his thighs for purchase.

"--wait--wait-- I'll spill in your hand, wait--"

This didn't deter you; if anything, it spurred you on to faster and faster strokes. Kento writhed, sweating and gripping, and you watched the heavy balls beneath his length tighten up, and--

"--ungh--coming--don'tstop...unh--"

Kento's whole body tensed. His face fixed in divine ecstasy. You watched his length jerk in your fist with thick, warm glugs of sticky white seed. You stared, your new obsession making you want to stroke Kento's release between your folds, but you held him instead, feeling him rut into your fist to chase his high.

After what felt like a lifetime, Kento came back to earth, with a heavy chest. While lax, for now, something in the way he looked at you, kneeling above him and examining the way his release dripped down your forearm, told you he was barely sated.

"Always were a...a fast learner."

"Well, you always wrote me off as a child--"

"I did not," Kento huffed, a mortified, angry flush colouring his cheekbones, "I knew exactly the woman you were. I do not lust after girls. If I didn't separate you, I knew I would...I knew we would..."

You nodded. You had both fought to convince yourself against such inevitability. Pondering, and curiously disappointed in the aftermath of Kento's pleasure, you stroked his slippery length in your hand again.

"You're...still hard."

Kento's eyes flicked down, that animalistic hunger taking seed in his eyes again. When he spoke, it was low, and barely measured.

"It would not usually, but-- but feeling you above me, so close that I could flip you over and trap you beneath me, I--"

You felt your breath leaves your lungs at once. Kento winced, disgusted with himself, but you snatched it away before it could take root.

"Please-- I want that, please--"

"With all this seed, and more to come after I bury myself inside you, you will be with child within days," Kento spat, gripping your cum-slick wrists to stop you stroking another orgasm out of him. Kento froze; having been about to throw you off, he saw the look in your eyes. The look of willingness. That sheer determination that had taken you as his apprentice in the first place.

"You like that," he mused aloud, enraptured as you lifted your undergown away to reveal yourself in your entirety. With your wrists gripped in one broad hand, the other stroked down between your breasts, to settle, stroking, on the soft plush of belly just above your mound.

"You...like that? The thought of a part of me, growing inside you? The thought of me spilling myself so deep, it has nowhere to go but your belly?"

The thought made you lightheaded. Why? Why was the thought of the same sticky release that coated your hands, inside you instead, so alluring? Beast in fine tailoring a beast in fine tailoring a beast--

Kento rolled you over. The strength you always knew he had, carefully restrained by waistcoat and pocket chains, bore down upon you now. He kicked away his trousers, desperate to be as bare as you, and brought his sheets over his hips to bury you both in a warm little den. You shivered to feel his length rest on your belly and mound, so close to where you wanted him.

Kento shook his head, trying to see logic, "If I finish inside you-- you really will be in danger of bearing my child, you..."

His voice had faded, gobsmacked as you stroked your seed covered fingers between your folds, mulish and clipped.

"There," you snipped, "I've already covered myself in you, so that's that--"

"You are utterly feral, this is what I get for bringing a guttersnipe into my workshop--"

"--so you might as well just finish the deed, sir, because--"

Kento laughed, overjoyed by your fearless audacity. His lip curled, and he reached down again to stroke his sticky seed between your folds.

"You think that's what I meant by inside?" He pressed, so close to the entrance you had never sought to penetrate, "You think I meant here? No, my love...I meant here."

You squeaked to feel Kento press one thick finger at your entrance. You felt the briefest sting of resistance, felt yourself clench and buck. Kento stopped, and pressed a first kiss to your lips, so sweet that you rushed through a wildflower meadow in summer.

He stroked circles just inside your entrance, loosening you with the slick of his seed, and kissing you with an intimacy that felt so much more than all the sordid deeds you had stolen from each other so far.

"And when I say 'here'," Kento continued, his breathing getting heavier, "I meant deeper. Much deeper than my fingers could reach. In truth, I would rather break your maidenhood with my cock, than my fingers. Some...filthy little part of me, I think. I loathe it. But, since we are well past being dishonest with each other..."

"Want that, please--" you babbled, squeaking with the promise of being filled with the rod you felt dragging on your belly, "--please, do it, I need to know, need you--"

"You beg like you mean to corrupt," Kento grumbled, pressing a little harder against your entrance and shivering as you squeaked, "I was a good man before this...I think. Shhhh, shh shh...that's it...soften you up...good girl."

"Not a girl," you gasped, your voice breaking and your nails digging into Kento's shoulders. He laughed, a full, rich, deep laugh of genuine delight. He pressed a kiss to your forehead as his fingers were replaced by his cockhead.

"You are right," he rumbled, nuzzling his nose to yours again, "you're certainly not. At least...you won't be, in a moment." Nose to nose with you, and whispering into your mouth, Kento pressed insistently forwards, "Hold onto me."

You did, feeling a brief sting, and stretched and stretched and stretched and--...full. You whimpered, bringing your legs around Kento to embrace all of him to you. He grunted, and gasped, pulled to bottom out within you, when he had meant to take you slowly. You clung him inside you as he moved to pull out, and begged, afraid it was already over.

"Nonono-- don't come out-- stay--"

Kento bucked into you involuntarily, and groaned a godless sound, arching up and gripping the headboard, white-knuckled.

"Got to-- got to move, to-- to finish...but at this rate--Christ, you'll kill me-- god, can't-- can't finish straight away like a boy--"

If the pleasure of being locked into the warm, wet drag of your pussy hadn't almost taken Kento to the edge, the way you looked up at him with glassy adoration would. He moaned again, another certain stepping stone to damnation.

One more glance at you had Kento planting one forearm above your head, and plaiting his fingers with yours upon the pillow. He gasped, trying not to take you too roughly, and finally, whispered again.

"Hold onto me."

Smooth, and fluid, and with the barest scraps of self control, you saw stars to feel Kento drag his cock back to your entrance, only to fill you again. You felt the thickfriction drag, and its bursts of belly-deep pleasure than rendered you oddly submissive. You revelled in it; drugged, and sighing, your eyes slipping closed.

The drunken animal in Kento had returned in force.

"...feels...weird...good--- don't stop, Ken--"

"--sh-shit, won't last-- I'm sorry--"

Kento watched you in wonderment. Whatever pleasure your ripe core gave him, could not compare to that given to him by your face; your mewls, and sighs, and whispers.

You couldn't seem to whisper his name, though; it tasted so sweet upon your tongue, that you could not bear to let it go.

You could feel Kento losing his ragged self-control. Watching your face, the plush bounce of your breasts, and the way your thighs spread against your belly every time he fucked into you, was an otherworldly delight. You took it; gladly. Your pleasure built strangely-- deeper, and more powerful, and yet not quite enough.

Your fingers sauntered down your belly. In your addled, fucked-into state, you barely noticed what you were doing. Kento noticed, though, and growled, a droplet of sweat dropping from his forehead between your breasts. His thrusts deepened, harder and faster and desperate for orgasm.

"F-fuck...just like that...just like you do at night-- my name--"

"Ke...Ken--"

"My name."

"Kento," you half-sobbed, lost in his promise to fill you with the sticky cum that had dropped down your hand, "please--pleasepleaseplease--"

"--the begging, fuck, I'm-- I'm done, I'm-- ungh, fuck--"

You knew Kento must be finishing. You felt him twitching, and jerking, within the snug gripping heat of your cunt, ruined by him as per his promise. You felt the curious warm spill somewhere deep inside you.

You knew the look of bliss upon his face. Your fingers, still rolling the remnants of his seed around your clit, moved faster and faster and faster--

You arched, seconds after Kento's own peak had begun, into your own. You heard the headboard crack under Kento's grip, heard the rhythmic, fractured moans that may have been his and may have been yours, too lost were you both in oblivion.

The world may have completed one full turn. Struggling to hold himself up, Kento shook, dopey and half-asleep after filling you as he had threatened. You locked him within you, and held him like a lead blanket, nuzzling into his throat.

"Just...stay there. Stay. I like it."

"That feels...indecent," Kento mumbled into your neck. His uncharacteristic colloquialism was winding back again, and you felt the clipped man in the waistcoat and pocket chain returning to earth. You whispered, to his devilish laugh.

"How are we supposed to make watches together after that?"

"Carefully. Very, very carefully. As husband and wife."

"...oh."

2K notes · View notes

yandere-kokeshi · 14 hours ago

Note

Hey!! I know its kind of a weird ask but how would yandere dad ghost react to discovered that his kid has a terminal sickness.

— Yandere Dad! Ghost reacting to his kiddo being diagnosed with a terminal illness

Warnings: Yandere platonic behavior, huge angst, Teenager! Reader, details of being sick and death.

A/N: Not a weird ask at all!! I enjoy these types of angst asks 😭. Enjoy!!!

Dad! Ghost is… distraught. More than he can relate to any other word. He’s quiet, too quiet for anyone’s comfortableness. His throat closes up, eyes gone wide, brown pupils staring at the doctor, as he begins to feel his hands shake uncontrollably. Even if he held his wrist to straighten it out, like his life depended on it, it’d still shake in fear.

He recognizes it for what it is—adrenaline, the body's reaction to stress. He hasn’t felt this type of panic since he left home. What a fuckin’ joke. But life is, isn’t it?

His body just feels numb. A way too familiar feeling he had in his chest, just sitting there occupied before you came into his life. It’s unfair. Extremely so, but he just accepts it. He’s straightforward—asking how much time you have left with an unreadable expression. He doesn’t fight with the doctor or even try to negotiate if there was a cure—both of you know there isn’t one, and that’s the hardest part for him to accept.

Anger is the first of the few emotions he feels. Not at you, but rather at himself. He forgets to breathe, feeling his chest tighten at the thought of you leaving. Dad! Ghost prides himself on taking care of you. Better than anyone, better than how he was treated growing up. When he took you as his, he promised to care for you—dedicated to your health and safety. And now, he’s failed at the most important section as a parent.

The first thing he asks is just for a hug. He doesn’t force you, but you can feel the rawness in the question. The desperation. The loss of something of his yet again. It’s a tight embrace, his fingers digging into your back. He needs to feel you, living and breathing, accepting the fact that he won’t be able to at some point. He’ll be asking for them a lot, especially for the first few months when your health begins to deteriorate.

In a way, Dad! Ghost softens—way more than his usual softness toward you, almost where it’s uncomfortable. It’s another façade, a mask behind his regular fatherly ways, to hide his pain from you. Like a marble statue slowly crumbling away.

He lets you stay up way later, trying to make the best of it with you. The two of you watch all types of TV shows, laughing at the comedy. Getting your favorite takeout every week, eating it whilst watching some of his and yours favorites. Taking you to visit different countries and states if that’s what you decide to do—even if it’s out of his comfort zone. He takes so many pictures of you, living in the moment and trying not to think negatively.

He doesn’t tell the team about your diagnosis, but somehow, they know. They always do. It’s the signature distance he has with them—even Laswell messages are just left on read or answered late, a lack in his communication. They all mourn equally, being there for him, for you. But at some point, Dad! Ghost will just break without you here.

—

Masterlist || Reblogs, comments, and likes are very much appreciated!! Stay well!!

97 notes · View notes

chanranghaeys · 1 day ago

Text

🎥 chemistry read

in which junhui’s casting director gets a little bit too jealous during a chemistry read

pairing: actor!junhui x afab!casting director!reader word count: 2.1k+ genre: hurt, comfort, nsfw rating: r-18. nsfw, mdni! tags: established relationship, JEALOUSY, fluffy ending, reader is mentioned to be smaller than jun, i claim no accuracy over the movie industry processes nsfw warnings: heavy makeout, petting, voyeurism (if you squint?) a/n: mainly inspired by lana condor and noah centineo’s chemistry read for “to all the boys i’ve loved before” and it still lives rent-free in my head because it made me feel so, so many things. also my first nsfw-rated fic oh my. took me a while to make sense of where the story was going but it seemed all roads led to this. credits to @strxwberry-skiess, @diamonddaze01, @haologram, and c for beta reading because this took a village to get out!! thank you bless your souls 🫶

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ masterlist . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

��﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

“Do you believe in the red string of fate?”

“The what?”

“The red string of fate. Have you seriously not heard of it?”

Jun was pulling out all the stops for this one. He had cranked up his charm to the max level evident in the smiles and subtle glances towards her direction. He knew exactly what he was doing.

It was sickening.

You were sitting on the opposite end of the screen in another room. Yes, you chose to go into a separate room today.

“It’s to see the literal on-screen chemistry,” you said. “We can’t have the face-to-face chemistry not translating well on camera.”

Just as well. You’d had enough of them making heart eyes at each other right in front of you anyway.

Today’s schedule was packed with absolutely no time for breaks in between and no time to even sit for a proper meal which you knew you’d only get by the end of the day.

And no time to actually sit down with the actor you were working with—who you were also lucky enough to call your boyfriend.

If you too were an actor, you’d truly believe that Jun was the perfect fit for you. It was something about his carefree presence and easygoing demeanor that turned shy when praises were directed at him no matter how much he deserved it. It was something that made you want to keep rooting for him.

He saw precisely that in you: your unwavering dedication and quiet support, whether in giving him insider tips and tricks to get ahead or letting him run wild with his character at every casting call. It was something he had never seen so strongly in someone during his time as an actor.

“You remind me of my members,” he told you the very first time you had coffee together—as colleagues who were on the verge of becoming something. “They’re my brothers. And I mean that in the best way possible! Not that you’re my brother in the messing around and crazy kind of way,” he quickly added when you raised your eyebrows in question. “I mean in the ‘always being there to stand by your side no matter what’ kind of way.” He sips from his drink nervously. “Don’t ask me to explain please, because I will not stop rambling until I say something even more stupid than I already have.”

You laughed because he’d already rambled more than he usually did. As a casting director, it was your job to match actors to roles that suited them perfectly. But as people, you both could say you did a mighty good job in matching each other’s quirks and freaks.

Professional mode on during work, you two agreed. And you two did very well on that promise.

But bringing her in for the role made it infinitely difficult for you to keep up your end of this deal.

“She’s an old friend of mine! We worked together on one of my very first projects, the small ones I used to tell you about.” He said this when you asked about her. You knew all that already, of course—it was part of your job.

But when the two finally met again in person, you saw it. As a casting director, your professional instincts felt it. You saw it in the way they instantly gravitated to each other, the way their eyes both sparkled, the way their hands naturally connected even after all those years apart.

They were perfect for the role.

And in your head, a small voice continued the thought you didn’t want to touch.

They were perfect for each other.

It was the same voice nagging in your head throughout the duration of the chemistry read. You knew this scene by heart as if you were the one auditioning for the role. You’ve watched how many callbacks and chemistry reads of this scene. And you knew what came next.

After the back-and-forth dialogue was a moment of silence, followed by a lingering gaze, which was sealed with a kiss that escalated to a bed scene. It was a pivotal moment in the film so it had to be perfect.

You’d almost been desensitized to your boyfriend doing such scenes—professional mode on as always. But all that work crumbled the moment you saw their eyes lock onscreen. Slowly, slowly, their faces inched closer together to meet in a kiss.

Your eyes burned. Your fist clenched as you saw his hand fist in her hair. Your jaw tightened when you saw her lips land in the corner of his jaw. And just as he brought her head down on the couch, the director called “Cut!” and you stood up to walk out of the room, not without feeling a stray tear fall down your cheek.

Jun heard the slam of the door and jerked his head toward the sound. That was all it took for him to know what happened.

He wasn't the only one to notice. Jun found the director’s eyes meeting his with a knowing look. “Alright,” the director started. “Well, they don't call it a chemistry read for nothing!” Scattered laughs filled the small room. “Thank you to both of you, that was absolutely amazing.”

The producers took the actress aside for a few words with other managers and staff. Your presence was notably absent.

Before Jun could slip away, he felt a hand on his shoulder. “That was the best read so far,” the director said.

“I know,” and with his eyebrows raised he continued, “I heard the door.”

The director just gave him a lighthearted laugh. “I’m sure we all did. But you know she would agree.”

Jun knew. So while everyone was preoccupied, he glanced at his manager—who already knew what he’d do—and set off to find you. It wasn’t a hard task because he opened the nearest door to the stairwell and found you leaning against the wall.

You met his eyes when you heard the door open, following him and his slight smile until he ended up a short distance beside you with his shoulder against the wall. You were adamant about not wanting him to see you break. You’re a professional, right?

“You know it’s not real,” he starts.

You scoff. “How is it not real when it was right in front of me?”

“Stop that, green isn’t a good color on you.”

“What?” Jarred, you look down at your staple all-black ensemble. “But green’s my favorite color. You told me you liked me in green.”

“Not when it’s green with jealousy.”

It took you two seconds to register what he said. The corner of your mouth twitched involuntarily at the quip. “I am not jealous.”

Jun barely held in a laugh. “Yeah, sure you aren’t.”

“I’m not!”

“Jealous you’re not the one I was kissing?”

“No, I—”

“Jealous you’re not the one I’m holding?” He reaches out and loops his finger through one of your belt loops to pull you closer, closer, until you’re both joined at the hip. He shifts to effectively pin you against the wall with his height. You shiver against his touch when his fingertips graze the base of your neck.

“Now, you stop that,” you breathily let out.

“Stop what?” He asks oh so innocently.

“This.”

“No. Not until I prove to you how real this is.” He grabs ahold of your hand, and places it somewhere you did not expect it to go: right over his clothed crotch.

He was wearing loose slacks, a piece that could easily hide things that need to be hidden. But if there was one thing you did know about Jun is that he gets hard quick and easy and it takes him a while to calm down. With your hand on it, you could feel it was anything but hard.

“You know me. You tell me if that read did anything remotely close to what you do to me.”

You open your mouth to speak, but before you can let out a reply, his lips land on yours. His actions catch you off-guard and you instinctively clutch onto his arms and your last bits of sanity. Just as quick, he breaks away and grabs your hand again to return it to where it came from.

“Keep it here, love. I need you to have the proof in your hands.” He brushes a stray hair from your face, and you see your own desire in his eyes reflected back to you. He leans in, but stops short of your lips, leaving you to chase after his touch. The smirk that followed was telling of his thoughts. He was teasing you. God.

You had no more patience for his fun and games. You could feel the pent-up frustration building. Whether from anger or sexual arousal, the line has been blurred irrevocably. With your free hand, you latch onto his hair and pull him in aggressively into an open-mouthed kiss.

It was at this moment that you both decided to think “fuck it” to all modes of professionalism.

He takes advantage of your open mouth and wastes no time diving deeper. You find yourself reciprocating his kisses, pulling him in closer as if recreating the scene you watched him do but making sure it was imprinted with your mark on him.

“I love you.” You hear it whispered, feel it muttered against your lips. “I love you, and only you,” he continues in between kisses. “I love you.”

And there it is: the proof you could feel quite literally in your hand, at the crux between his legs. If you weren’t too in the heat of the moment, you could almost laugh. He decided to prove his loyalty to you by showing that he did not get a boner during the chemistry read. It was your lips and your hands, and yours only, that could do this to him. It was peak Junhui.

But now, you were only aroused beyond comprehension, apparent in the pit of your core and the slick pooling in your panties. You squeeze him through his slacks and he moans lewdly in your mouth, echoing in the empty stairwell bearing witness to this obscenity.

He starts kissing and licking down your neck as you feel his hands snake under your blouse and your bra to squeeze in return, earning a gasp from your swollen mouth. You fist the hand you had in his hair tighter, fully aware that you are indeed messing it up and you will very much get a word from his stylist about this.

Your ringtone effectively silenced all other sounds you both made before things could go any further. You both stopped to look at each other with expressions that were hard to decipher whether in alarm or in exhilaration.

“Hello?”

You hear your director on the other end. “So have you two kissed and made up yet? Not literally, I hope.”

From the corner of your eye, Jun chuckled. You cleared your throat, but your voice was still a pitch too high when you replied, “Yeah, we’re good.”

“Alright, now come on back here. We have dinner prepared for everyone, including the new girl. We still need to talk about her.”

“Got it, boss.”

“Now, okay? We’ve been stalling for you two.”

Ah, shit. “Okay. On the way.” You dropped the call and looked at Jun leaning back against the wall, whose hair he managed to salvage and whose clothes were almost presentable. You couldn’t say the same for your half-open jeans and messed-up lipstick.

Wordlessly, he pulls you in and helps tidy you up—fixing your hair as you put your clothes back together and wipe off the stray lipstick from your face.

“For the record,” he says as he tucks your hair behind your ear, “whatever chemistry you see on the screen is only because I have you in my head to draw inspiration from. There’s a reason why people close their eyes when they kiss. It’s you I see every time.”

You usually love it when Junhui rambles like this. You still do now, but you also recall his “green with jealousy” line and it fills you with embarrassment.

“It’s just…it looked so real. It felt so real. That was the best chemistry read out of all of them.”

“So I was told earlier.”

“It made me feel so many things.” The exasperation was evident in your voice.

He takes your hands this time and holds them tight. “I’ll make you feel even more things, I’m sure. But I will not let you forget that I will make you feel loved the most. Okay?”

You sigh. You love him. “I love you, Jun.”

“I love you, too.” He raises a hand to press a kiss on your knuckles.

“Also remind me to call building security. I must tell them to delete that footage from the stairwell.”

Jun gives you a quiet smile, one full of mischief. “Not without securing a copy first. For me. Please?”

“I thought we were professionals!”

“We could add professional rule-breakers to that title, you know.”

Hmm. You reconsider his request. Yep, you could definitely match his freak. Perfect chemistry.

✎﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

post a/n: inbox is open for requests or additions to taglists!

74 notes · View notes

ropebuny · 1 day ago

Text

oh no of course !!! you’re definitely right, thank you so much for this addition it’s an important aspect of it all to consider. my addition of the dom giving the sub impossible to complete tasks was brought up because I personally have had that happen to me and my ex partner, and I personally found it really hot because I had a suspicion that they were essentially lying in order to be hot and make me all needy and frustrated. and I knew that they would never actually be upset with me, we had a very trusting and respectful relationship so I definitely think that something as serious as indulging in an impossible task would DEFINITELY need some discussion beforehand between the two, the dom seeing how the sub feels about it. and I mentioned these impossible scenarios with the possibility of the sub using the safeword if they felt the need to do so in mind. but of course when it comes to the sub feeling the need to voice the safe word, feelings can already be extremely hurt and the trust feel disrespected. so I definitely agree with your addition heavily, maybe these people are just not compatible. this guy definitely should have just communicated with his sub about what he expects/wants/desires from her and her doing the same for him. my addition of impossible tasks was just meant to be something to be considered as a more fun way to deal with punishment, if maybe at the moment the ‘standard’ rules feel too ‘boring’ like the original guy complained about. and how it should only be implemented once the once the dom had full confidence that it wouldn’t hurt the sub emotionally, and knowing their personal limits since you really need to be extra careful in kink and especially when dealing with punishments. I know that I definitely would not appreciate if someone that I did not feel confident with just started to gaslight me like that, but when that scenario happened between me and my ex partner who I trusted wholeheartedly, it was a very hot and enjoyable experience for me. or maybe I am very trusting of my dom but in the moment, I am just not in the right headspace to be treated like that. so the dom should definitely be extra careful when dealing with such scenarios which can easily be hurtful to the sub on an emotional level, it’s not something to be careless with. it definitely all depends on the person and their limits, and the dom should never push these. I also never wanted my post as coming across as me saying the dom should implement these and only these, because as another person has voiced, these impossible to win tasks can definitely become old so so incredibly fast. my intention was to perhaps voice how kink doesn’t have to be ‘boring’ like that guy was complaining about, maybe the sub and dom can experiment with non ‘standard’ rules to how kink is believed to work. I wanted to bring attention to how kink can be and should be creative, but these scenarios definitely all depend on the person and what kind of sub they are and for the dom to be aware of the risks of implementing these strategies as to not hurt their sub emotionally.

kink communities definitely have a soft spot for brats while belittling subs who are “too good/obedient” as if that was even a thing… obedience, especially such that is soo devoted and dedicated like the op’s sub, should be praised and respected. while that guy seemed to not realise just how much of an honor it was for his sub to be so incredibly committed to being obedient for him

thank you so much for bringing up this important aspect of it all, I really appreciate you taking the time to open up and share your thoughts and disdain for it, I never meant my addition of impossible tasks to be seen as something to be used against subs to fuck with them and break them on and hurt them on an emotional level which they would not appreciate. it’s a sensitive issue and it definitely NEEDS to be handled with proper care and respect to the sub from the dom. and in my mind when I was adding that aspect of it to the text post, I had my personal experience in mind which was very enjoyable because I felt incredibly safe with the person I was doing it with and the fact that I caught onto the fact that they were fucking with me on purpose. but I definitely should have mentioned how careful you must be when dealing with gaslighting in play like that, because it’s definitely not something to just fuck around with carelessly, so thank you so much for your addition !!

saw a guy on here complaining about how disappointing it sometimes is to have such a good and obedient little girl, how when she obediently pulls up her skirt and counts all the spanks without messing up it gets boring because there’s no fun in it since it can’t be counted as a punishment anymore. my brother in christ how can you ever become bored or disappointed or feel that it’s not of any ‘fun’ when someone is so endlessly devoted to you and is so so obedient and obeys your every command and would do anything to make you proud. that level of obedience takes real dedication and a really strong willpower and a really strong and committed mind. you’d never catch me calling that boring or disappointing, ever. it’s the farthest thing from it, and frankly it should be praised instead

#reminder

491 notes · View notes

nemesis-is-my-middle-name · 3 days ago

Text

updated and improved "all the fears want arthur lester carnally" list

just a general tally of influence/Marks arthur would have received if you were playing by TMA rules. enhanced with further contemplation and with some peer review from @luci-z-wont-shut-up thankyouuu

the eye

VERY dedicated private investigator. consistently more invested in Solving The Mystery than, like, Remaining Alive

was magic-stalked by the KIY and his cult throughout season 1

also kayne was watching his whole life and taking notes to roast him about his trauma later. apparently

something something metanarrative implications of an audience gathering around just to watch you suffer

the spiral

possessed by a god of madness (twice) (three times?) (possibly more depending on how you count?)

was held hostage in a fake dream-realm mental institution with fucked up architecture so one of the aforementioned madness gods could pry information out of him (which also gets cryptically described as "Here, there, everywhere, nowhere. Anywhere." which is sooo the spiral-coded)

relies on someone else to be his eyes so there's always the lingering background awareness that he may be missing or outright misrepresenting information & consequently he can't trust what he sees

the end

he's died.

multiple times.

there's also the omnipresent threats on his life but mostly just that. like. he's been The Ended. doesn't get much more direct than that

the stranger

i still think "losing parts of your body to another consciousness while they are still attached to you" is VERY the stranger type activities

the king in S1 turning any weak-willed bystanders against him so any stranger could turn into a threat without warning

also, the king and scratch posing as normal people, even people he knows sometimes!

orbited by a cast of nonhuman Entities remaking their identities into something closer to humanity for one reason or another (john, yellow, scratch, kayne) and frequently not quite hitting the mark (ty luci)

the lonely

general sense of alienation from his peers that started young and—just vibe checking here, just taking a general temperature—doesn't seem to have gotten much better over time

"I want him safe." / "You want him back." / "...Yes." <- guy who can totally handle being alone

john left and he went fully off the deep end in the span of like, a day

it's just one of those things that i think he hates and is terrified of but also is constantly haunted by

the desolation

the whole vibe of the death/destruction specifically of things that could have brought meaning to the world, or people who had a lot to live for and could have touched other lives and had an effect on others, is... um. (gestures vaguely at the. all of them)

will do LITERALLY ANYTHING to avoid losing anyone else.

also pain. i feel like pain takes a thematic backseat but it is still a part of the desolation and good lord is this man in so much pain basically all the time

one time he did an arson at an in-progress building site and left a guy bleeding out in the ruins!! desolation come get your juice

also independently invented molotovs so he could use them to kill a different thing which was perhaps divine inspiration straight from the lightless flame itself??

the slaughter

start with parker's death and just work your way down from there tbh

the butcher confrontation "Whose life did you take without provocation, without threat? Who did you kill that was innocent?" vs the slaughter's "random, senseless, unmotivated violence"

also knowing that pain and death are coming but not where or when or how. Yup 👍

just. in general. he has been wading through his own and other people's blood in equal measure since the start of the damn show

had to hide in a pit full of rotting corpses that one time

the vast

timelines! go confront how meaningless your entire life is in the face of the uncaring multiverse! have a quick crisis about it! fuck meaning!

i still don't have a whole lot for this one tbh

he can't stop falling off things obviously but i don't think he's particularly scared of that. i think he's resigned to it. balance is a fickle beast and he has accepted that it does not return his affections.

one time a kraken almost drowned him?

the buried

known claustrophobe!

almost got pinned in a cave, unable to move, on multiple different occasions!

this man and caves in general have a very very bad relationship. they keep making him be underground and then terrible things happen to him down there.

drowning goes here also :)

the dark

"Funny. Before all of this, I used to fear the dark. Not in any crippling way, but – but now it’s… well, now it’s no different."

used to be unnerved by the dark and now he is blind. checks out

also, the dark world. it's in the name, baby. that's more john's fear but i think it has to rub off on him at least a little bit

the corruption

eeeeverything that happened with the witch. she tried to use him to breed maggots. now that's what i call Corrupt™

horig, also

obsessive, almost self-destructive levels of devotion to an entity that killed his friend and wrecked his life. listen i'm supportive i think they're perfect for each other in an ESH way i'm just saying this probably also falls into the corruption's purview (ty luci)

ESPECIALLY considering john lives in his body like a parasite. not trying to be derogatory here but like, on an objective level. he is stealing his body parts. and arthur loves him. again, incredibly on-brand for the corruption

the web

he Doesn't Like Being Told What To Do >:[

ongoing vendetta against cult shit for this exact reason

the idea of not having fully free will seems to be very actively and deeply concerning for him

"I am the captain of my soul" and so on and so forth

got literally brainwormed by The Creature back in addison (twice!)

the flesh

Michael Fucking Faust

also, had to bite his own finger off before that. in case you needed or wanted some bonus points

the hunt

HOO BOY has he ever been Hunted. so many times by so many different things. take your fucking pick

also: "You are hunting." / "Predators need to be hunted." <- basically an active prayer to the hunt

this man is prey animal rage incarnate honestly. go!! lose yourself in the bloodlust!! kill them before they can kill you!!!!

john would really appreciate it if he was a little Less cozy with the hunt tbh :(

the extinction

i'm actually not counting this one bc it doesn't take avatars and also doesn't rrrreally exist yet

he's lived through a world war and a pandemic. how's that. i think that's as good as it gets.

CONCLUSION: i still think arthur should go shake hands with the vast and get carried off by a bird and hope that gets the rest of these assholes to fuck off. i think it's his best bet atp.

#the nemesis speaks #malevolent #malevolent podcast #malevolent spoilers #mv liveblog #tma liveblog #tma spoilers #i'm not... gonna tag this with the tma maintag i don't think #long post #<- hey which is the maintag for malev anyway. do i add ''podcast'' to it or not. what's the consensus #still saving 49 for later so if there's anything in there that's super fears coded uhhhhh rip

56 notes · View notes

simp-ly-writes · 2 days ago

Text

The Assassin's Wife

─────── · · A 'Day of the Jackal' (TV series) FanFic

Pairing: Charles "Jackal" Calthrop x Wife!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: To put it simply, you are the wife of Charles Calthrop having met him at a work event over a decade ago, your romance was story-book perfection up until when you learned he kills people for a living...

─ · · TAGS: second person perspective used, female-pronouns used, fluff and angst, scenes of stalking, blood, violence, injury, guns, and obsessive behaviours, hurt/comfort, arguments, swearing, lying, kissing, the Jackal being a ultra charismatic mf, Marissa (OC), not beta read.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 5,570

─ · · A/N: post number 300! woohoo! soo... I kinda really loved this ask and wrote a whole bunch for it. Be ready for some fluff, angst, and then fluff again!

─────── · ·

─ · · You had been married to your husband, Charles, for well over a decade now. You had met him while attending a work event overseas, your job always had you traveling keeping you from starting any longterm relationships up until you met Charles that faithful night.

─ · · You remember the deep navy blue suit he wore with a light blue dress-shirt underneath. His accessories were silver and by the family signet ring on his finger, you knew him to be coming from wealth and to your surprise as he greeted you with a kiss to the back of your palm, he made his empire himself as he described to you over a few too many glasses at the bar.

─ · · Charles swept you off your feet that night with his lingering looks on your lips, the way he gently held your hand, interlacing your fingers before pulling you outside and to a cab. You remember his touch trailing up your thigh as you gasped at the back of the cab before clearing your throat and placing your head against his shoulder... much like the position you found yourself in currently as you watched your husband sleep, his arm snuggly around your side, head against his bare chest as you traced the various scars across it with curiosity.

Your husband explained to you the multitude of stories on how he obtained each scar and warp of skin as you kissed everyone the same; with love and attention as he had shown you. You simply adored how hard working he was, always away and coming back with that necklace you were eyeing in the market or a surprise vacation. But you couldn't help but miss him, want him with you, and you didn't know if that was selfish of you or not to want him with you constantly when he provided for you with utmost dedication.

─ · · But after so many years of gifts and hugs at the airport as you waved him goodbye. You felt lonely sitting in the parking lot wondering the next time you would see your husband and quite frankly, all of your friends told you he was most likely cheating on you by how often and long he was away without messaging or calling you.

You always waved away their concerns for your wellbeing as you took care of the estate, went to work for a few hours of the day before busying yourself with random hobbies and studying various topics for the off chance Charles would bring it up in conversation during one of his work rants, you liked to call them. Remembering the weight of his head in your lap, the feeling of his soft golden curls running through your fingers as he said every time, without fault, "I'd much rather be here with you, my love." But did he ever fall through with those words? no. But you loved your husband regardless.

─ · · You would always pick him up form the airport when he called the night before, waiting in a sundress with drinks and snacks ready in the car for the long ride back. Charles would place his large hand on your knee as you drove, charming you endlessly with his commentary the whole ride home, "I was beginning to forget just how beautiful you were, had to come back." "What an angel, you are. My guardian angel just meant for me." "You look as raidient as the sun in that dress, my love." "Remind me to kiss you with the same desperation I feel now when we stop."

And like clockwork, you would flush under his loving stare and words before being pulled into bed in an outward display of his love that would leave your legs weak in the morning and him bringing you both up breakfast in bed before presenting you another gift.

You held a tight smile while accepting the gift this time, not wanting to seem ungrateful yet your heart desired the non-material... and it seemed Charles understood this, had been planning something for awhile. You observed the box to be moving and to have... hole in it? You thought to yourself before looking to your husband with shock and confusion as a little bark sounded from inside.

"Charles, darling. You. Did. NOT," you gasp before throwing off the lid as a puppy comes bursting out to your chest, licking your face with gratitude before exploring the bed. Charles picks up the fluffy creature, leading it back to you before sitting near the foot on the bed, massaging your leg gently with a smile, "I know you've been feeling lonely recently and I apologize. I promise that after this next job... I won't have to work as much, this is just the last thing, I promise."

You stare into his eyes for a moment, the puppy wigging in your arms as you pet their head and scratch behind their ears with a subconscious smile growing on your face. "Really?!" you ask excitedly, blinking away tears of hope in your eyes seeing as Charles chuckles softly before you, crawling towards you both and pressing a kiss to the side of your head, catching a kiss on the chin by your new pet as well, "Yes."

─────── · ·

─ · · Charles had actually stayed for longer than you were used to, something about preparing and studying his opponent to strike the best deal. You nodded along, interested but confused on the details of this supposed interaction he had planned as you both walked the dog around the garden property line.

"When we get back, I just have to jot-down the rest of the details before I can join you two for dinner. I picked up your favourite bottle from the market earlier that I was thinking we could share?" You nod, pressing a kiss to his cheek before unclipping your new companion from their leash, watching as they run inside and to their water dish.

Charles's arms wrap around your waist as he presses a kiss to your exposed neck, feeling his smile against your skin, "I love you, darling." You rest your hands atop of his, leaning against his chest and close your eyes, enjoying the warm evenings breeze drifting across both of your forms before taking a deep breath and watching as Charles leaves you and heads to his study.

You get dinner moving, dancing and singing around the kitchen as your puppy runs between your feet, barking cheerfully and trying to dance alongside you. Giggling you pick him up, resting his upper arms on your shoulder as you use them as your partner, spinning and twirling towards the living before placing them in their back in their bed.

Your phone goes off as you rush back to the stove and take the tray out and leave it to cool in front of an open window before cutting the bread. "Smells divine in here," you jump, starting and nicking yourself on the knife, cursing softly as you watch the blood drip from the small cut with a wince before heading towards the sink.

Charles is distraught at the sight of you bleeding, taking quick long strides over to your form, holding your elbow gently as he inspects the small nick, "I'm so sorry," he mumbles a few times between kisses to your face before he moves to get the first-aid kit underneath the skin, patting the counter for you to sit upon as he stands between your legs and dresses the cut.

You smile at how softly he touches you, apologizing as you wince at the solution to cleanse the cut before kissing the bandaged finger afterwards. "I'm quite alright, Charles. Just a minor thing-" you begin to explain yet your husband just shakes his head, annoyed with myself. "I shouldn't have distracted you, got you hurt in the first place, I hate seeing you with this," he holds up your hand in front of both of your faces.

You press your forehead against his own, closing your eyes, "Charles, my love. I would forgive you even if you shot me. No need to worry," You joke in a loving tone- not understanding to the way the Jackal tenses feeling your touch. Visions of your corpse flashing before his eyes with life-like accuracy as he begins to feel queasy, shaking in your hold.

You pull away once feeling him start to breath heavily. His touch falling from your hand to grip the kitchen counter, knuckles turning white as he sees you look up at him with tear-covered eyes, his hand shakes with the trigger- "Charles?" you call out softly, hand hovering over his cheek, feeling as he flinches at the touch, taking a step away while shaking his head to himself before appearing... scarily calm again.

You watch as he smiles, brings up dinner and walks past whatever... episode he seemingly just had as if it had never happened in the first place... a mere fragment of your imagination. You furrowed your brows, jumping down from the kitchen counter before filling up both your plates and following Charles out to the patio where a table set with candles was prepared for you both.

Your heart tremors in your chest, watching as he pulls out a chair for you before pushing you in and seating himself. Pouring glasses of wine for you both with a cheers you gulp down the liquid quickly before gently placing the glass back down on the table and taking a bite of your food, debating weather or not to bring up what had just happened or not.

You ultimately decide not too, enjoying this moment that has been few and far between in recent months as your husband charms you like the first day you met, with coy smiles and charming words that have you falling into his arms and back into bed where you rest upon his chest, listening to his heart beating for you once more.

─────── · ·

─ · · Your friends call you in the morning as you invite them over before telling Charles, you rush towards his office in case he is still undressed for they all would be coming shortly to use the pool.

Knocking at the door, his voice invites you in to see the puppy in his lap as Charles fixes his glasses, looking up from the documents scattered across his desk to you with a loving smile and crinkled eyes, "good morning my love, I'm sorry I was not there to wake you."

You wave a hand on his face walking over and pulling him in for a kiss before looking over the papers and blueprints curiously, hand hovering over the smear of red ink against the corner of a crumpled page before Charles' voice redirects your attention with a hand to your hip, giving a gently squeeze, "was there something you wanted to say?"

"Oh, yes!" you jump back to your previous thoughts watching as he turns away from the desk, the dog jumping off his lap and running down the hall leaving the seat empty. You stare for a moment debating, knowing that if you sit down you might not be ready in time. The Jackal did not care about what you were thinking in the moment though, simply gabbing you by your waist and allowing you to fall into his lap.

"Marissa and my other friends are coming over shortly to use the pool, I just thought to let you know beforehand so you could get ready as well," you explain, playing with the buttons to his creme linen shirt listening to him hum. "I'm afraid that I still have-" you look at him with pleading eyes, hand brushing against the skin of his chest and trailing down, watching as the words die on his lips, "...alright. I'll be there shortly."

You quickly stand back up with a smile, cheering happily listening to him laugh before rushing back to your wardrobe to pick a swimsuit and throw-over for the occasion.

─────── · ·

─ · · A knock sounds at the door that has you nearly falling down the stairs and rushing to hug your guests. Marissa squeals in your ear, wrapping her arms around your shoulders as you both swing side to side. She presents you a bottle of wine and a platter of fresh fruits which you bring out to the deck, showing your guests to where the fridge and restrooms were.

─ · · You feel overjoyed having the house filled and to see the dog running around and jumping after their toys in the pool. You lean back in a lounge, soaking up the sun before a shadow overtakes the warmth. You peel up your sunglasses, as Marissa tits her head to the side, mouthing, follow me. You raise a brow in question but follow her nevertheless into the pool house in which she quickly closes the door and shuts the blinds on both of you.

"Marissa?" you call out her name, squinting through the darkness before flicking on the light," Is everything alright?" you ask again watching as her smile wavers, hands shaking as she moves to grip your own. "I think it's best for you to sit before I say anything..." her thumbs brush against the back of your hands soothingly, your heart races- debating of weather or not to quickly grab Charles for whatever news you were about to be it with.

Seemingly knowing your thoughts, Marissa shakes her head, taking a seat beside you on a stack of spare cushions for your outdoor furniture. "This is about Charles," she explains- you debate weather or not to roll your eyes. "Of course it is. What news do we have this time?" you ask, feeling irritated as you side your hands away from her touch. She looks at you for a moment before sighing, "I know you feel as though I am in the wrong for calling out your relationship and maybe I am, maybe I'm not but I only want you to be safe and happy... you're my best friend, hun and I don't want to see you get hurt."

You nod smiling, "same goes to you-"

"Yes," Marissa cuts you off, playing with her hair, "thats why I'm telling you that your husband isn't who you think he is." She bites her lip, waiting on your reaction. You lean your head forwards, "go on?" wanting to indulge in another one of her 'stories.' She cuts right to the chase.

"He kills people." You gasp, standing up and shaking your finger, "No, NO, Marissa! That is too far this time!" you stomp your way towards the door, shoulders rising upwards and tight, I can't believe she has the audacity to say such a thing. "PLEASE," Marissa runs up, gripping your arm, nearly on her knees begging, "let me explain... I-I have evidence." Your heat drops at her sincerity, the way her large tearful eyes grip your own, forcing you to take a seat again as she pulls open her phone- your hand flying to your mouth in shock.

You look at the various articles she has saved to her camera roll, the dates of the murders lining up with the most recent trips of your husband. "This could only be a coincidence right?" Marissa does not say a word, simply flipping her phone horizontally and pressing play to a news broadcast recording:

"Witnesses have identified the assassin to be a 6ft male with an athletic build. Crime investigators have released the following identikit based upon multiple accounts and ask that if you have any information on where the killer is or where they plan on going to contact local and world police immediately for the safety of the greater public."

You feel sick, head falling between your knees as you shake and cry, knowing that illustration to be hauntingly similar to the love of your life... or so you thought him to be.

Marissa rubs your back in soothing circling motions before looking towards the door and whispering her next words to you carefully, "Please, come with me tonight. Say that something happened with my family and that I need your support. We'll pack and bag and get you out," you nod along, lost in your thoughts and not quite catching her words- ears ringing from overstimulation, the clothes on your body soon feel to hot as you grip your skin in panic.

"I-I he wouldn't lie to me this way... he said he-he loved me?" you hiccup in between cries, now walking around in circles within the small space- wavering on the line of hysteria. "I have to go talk to him, this is a misunderstanding, they have the wrong accounts, they, they..." you shake your head, trying to clear your mind to no avail.

Marissa stands, gripping your shoulders, shaking you, begging you to listen to her, "Please, stay with me for tonight at least. I don't feel safe leaving you here with him, not with what we both know... he could kill us if he knows... we know..." You fall over, back into the cushions, your head feeling to heavy for your body as your spots of black start to cloud over your vision. "M-Marissa?" you beg for what you don't know as she hugs you, begging you to stand and move with her.

"Please, we have to go now. Stop the tears, we must leave-"

"I-I can't!" you shout before watching as her eyes widen, the sounds of the other guests dying down from your outburst. A knock sounds at the door, your heart drops... you both allow a moment to pass before another knock sounds, more rushed and heavy against the wood, "my love? are you alright in there?"

Charles. You and Marissa both share a look, you swallow deeply- clearing your throat, "I'm alright Charles, just an wardrobe malfunction." You hear as your... husband chuckles, "alright, I have a plate of food waiting for you by the pool."

"Thank you, darling!" you shout back before hearing as his footsteps become distant. You let out a breath you didn't know to be holding as Marissa pulls you up, wiping your face with her towel, determination in her eyes. "We. are. leaving." You nod, not trusting your words as you follow her outside, wincing at the light coming into your eyes and heart.

─────── · ·

─ · · You walk swiftly pass the crowd and upstairs, throwing the closet open to find a duffle bag as you begin to pack a weeks worth of clothes. You stop yourself from grabbing one of Charles shirts to sleep in, your fingers twitching as your heartaches, you bite your lip to conceal a cry as your eyes well before turning towards the ensuite bathroom.

You startle bumping into a chest as arms steady you, hand brushing against your cheek as Charles stares down at you- worry clouding over his eyes as he takes in the sight of your tears. "Whats wrong?" he asks quietly, brushing your hair as you shake in his hold... knowing what those hands have done. You close your eyes, allowing yourself to relax in the memory of his touch before pulling away and heading towards the bathroom.

Charles stands there still where you left him, glaring at his reflection in the mirror of the closet before turning around determined to find out whatever or whomever made his darling wife cry. He leans against the doorframe watching as you grab a hairbrush and a few hair ties before brushing past him and throwing them into your luggage- hands shaking as you zip it closed and place it over your shoulder.

But just before you can reach the door, Charles picks you up in his arms, you scream, and places you on the bed- standing at the foot with his arms crossed. "Running away from our issues only prolongs them. What. is. wrong?" he asks, muscles flexing as he forces himself not to physically comfort you seeing as you flinch from every slight sound you hear. Who scared you? What do I need to do in order to protect you? The Jackal thinks to himself, foot tapping in wait.

You sound out the party happening down stairs, focusing solemnly on your breathing, "I-I have to help Marissa with somethings. Her family, things went badly and she needs me?" you try and lie yet your words appear more like a question.

Your husband sighs, head tilting to the side as he analyzes your form, eye twitching... no, she couldn't know that. I've hid it well and no one else would know in the slightest... You watch every small expression tick over his features, shifting in your spot watching as he does the same, mirroring your movements- you feel trapped knowing that Charles was not going to let you leave... not without the truth nevertheless.

You look outside, hoping to catch Marissa's eyes to come and save you yet can see no sights of her. Your bag drops to your feet as you grip your hair, Am I ready to die? You ask yourself, thoughts automatically going to the darkest parts of your mind before you suddenly remember your conversation last night in the kitchen...

─────── · ·

Shit, you think to yourself... his prior actions all making sense now. You timidly look into his eyes, purposefully trying to make yourself appear small... make him feel the heart you have loved ever-so dearly up until this point, and to some degree, you still do for the years of affections you both have shared.

"Tell me what you know," The Jackal asks calmly, your blood runs cold as he stares down at you, nose twitching, eyes daring you to try and lie again to him.

You open and close your mouth, unsure of what to say before letting lose knowing that you were not making it out of this room no matter what so you might as well do it with morals and truth. "I know you kill people," you begin to say.

The room is dead silent as you both stare into one another's eyes, "Tell me that you don't," you whisper, tears silently falling down your cheeks that you do your best to try and blink away resulting in only more coming. Yet in your husbands move not to answer you provides you with the most deafening answer yet... he does.

You shake your head, nails digging into your palms, threatening to break skin. You flinch again to his touch, feeling as the Jackal gently pulls your fingers away from hurting yourself- your heart hammers in your chest like a drum, you know he can hear it to by the way his head falls. "Tell me that you don't," you whisper-shot, shaking your head, confused as to how the soft and intelligent man you fell in love with, that you married and planed to have children with... kills people.

"I kill people for money," the Jackal whispers quietly, a part of hoping that you do not hear his words, that you would return to your smiling and loving self, taking him back with open arms- unknowing once more yet you understand what he says, "Listen to yourself and say it again," you demand of him.

The Jackal removes his touch, taking in a shaky deep breath, closing his eyes as his hands shake down by his sides into fists, you slowly crawl back on the bed, "I kill people for money," he says a bit louder. You scoff into a cry, "say it again."

"I kill people for money," the Jackal states picking up his head to look you in the eyes, his heart breaks seeing your tears, watching as you flinching when he moves to brush them away. You'e afraid of me, Charles thinks to himself. I've failed to protect you, the Jackal thinks to himself. You are shaking in your spot, "say it again, say it-"

"I KILL PEOPLE FOR MONEY. Is that what you want to hear? Is that enough? Is it enough?" The Jackal snaps at you before falling to his knees, head in your lap as an offering. You feel the way he grips your sides, sobbing into your skirt, pleading for you to love him. Yet you just stare forwards, looking out to the sun and all the people downstairs, your eyes catch Marissa's as you stand, his body rolling off of yours as he stays collapsed against the floor watching as you slowly pick up your bag and close the door on him.

─────── · ·

─ · · You felt disgusted for not being able to go to the police about your husband... or well ex-husband. You sent the divorce papers in at Marissas request after your first month out on the run from your heart but no matter where you seemed to go, what disguises or excuses you used when he would just find your new phone number again, you still loved him.

─ · · A part of you knew deep within that not every moment you shared together could be a lie. He trusted you to sleep beside him, to cook for him, to be his confidant to his "work rants," and spent his pay check on you... but he kills people... you think to yourself, 'only the bad people, promise,' you remember him telling you via letter to your mailbox during your first week in Australia where Marissa left you before returning back to Spain. You shake your head, confused with yourself; head and heart competing...

But when you saw golden locks out of the corner of your eye, green-eyes hidden behind tinted shades and tall muscular body draped in a fine linen suit... it would be an understatement to say you folded in the first seconds and fell back in love in the first moment when he picked up your hand, pressing a kiss to the back of it and refused to let go, intertwining your fingers together on the table as he payed for lunch and all your drinks without a second thought.

And when it started to rain in Amsterdam where you were currently "hiding out," he draped his jacket over your shoulders and picked you up so that your feet wouldn't get wet in all the puddles and potholes. Carrying you all the back to the apartment you were renting, waiting at the door for you to invite him inside and you did.

─ · · You watched as he unbuttoned and rolled up his sleeves to his forearms, veins flexing across his skin as he clenched and unclenched his hands when you moved past him to sit distantly on the couch. He thought about the comforting pressure of you on his lap, the feeling of your head on your shoulder and your lips against his own. He wanted nothing more than to feel your skin against his skin, to get a taste of you once more... but he allowed you space, for now... until things are safe... until the job is done, Charles thought to himself, taking a sip out of the tea you prepared for you both.

─ · · After some catching up on both of your sides, your concern grew not only for yourself and your safety, but for your husbands as he was being pinned down on two fronts. One by the police, the other by his target and his men... a part of you knew that your safety did relay on the Jackal getting his work done and knew that from you not going to the police right away, not protecting the 'public', you were in some part just as guilty as he- a participant... "let me help you.... please." And the Jackal nodded.

─────── · ·

─ · · Returning to Spain, the Jackal gave you a series of instructions and lists of where secret rooms, weapons, and security lockdown procedures he had installed for a moment that you had no clue existed before and never would have.

─ · · You shiver at how precisely Charles can check the various weapons on himself, flipping knives in his boots, checking his magazines and checking the sights down the barrel of his gun before giving you a kiss and telling you to go sit in the bedroom upstairs with the dog, waiting to flip a switch in the wardrobe at his request to cut all the power to the house through your earpiece.

You nodded, pulling him in for a second kiss, lingering before pulling away slightly and kissing all the way across his cheek to his ear, whispering, "live for me." You didn't receive a response, only a pat at your hit, silently demanding you to move as you pick up your furry companion and closed the bedroom door, putting on a record just like intersected... sitting still and looking pretty and innocent, just waiting on your husband to return.

─────── · ·

─ · · You didn't bother to look at the clock, watching as the minutes ticked over and the dog laid asleep at the foot of the bed. Your fingers running across the soft fur of their back only to startle as you hear your front door be blasted through and two pairs of boots stomp their way into your home. Your breath hitches as you quickly stand and look at the window seeing no addition people in the tree line.

You double check to ensure your door is closed before pressing down on your ear, listening closely for your queue... "Do you hear me darling?" Charle's soft tone floods your ear, you can hear him taking shallow long breaths in and out, most likely hiding somewhere in the walls. "yes," you whisper, starting to make your way into the closet- waiting... "flick the switch, gorgeous." Lights out!

─ · · You are suddenly surrounded in darkness as you tip toe your way back to the bed and place yourself on top of the covers, scrolling through your phone once hearing their boots near the door. The dog shuffles by your feet but does not move as the door creaks open and two flashlights are shined in your eyes, causing you both to stand alert. "HANDS UP!" a woman shouts, you wave your hands in the air. "P-please don't hurt me! Take whatever you want from the house!" you beg, tears starting to drown across your cheeks as you work to distract the women. "Please!" you beg over and over again dramatically, falling to your knees as your hands press against her boots.

"I'm here to protect you ma'am, just do as I say and we will have no issues," the woman in uniform tells you- you nod your head. "Stand," she demands and you oblige, rising to your feet and grabbing your pet in your arms. "Do you have any idea what your husband does?" she questions you, moving you both towards Charle's study and telling you to sit at his desk. You nod your head, hearing as her breath hitches, "he works in global sales for an insurance company," you explain.

"I can show you the new logos?" you ask confusing the woman. "No, I don't care about that... you are married to Charles Calthrop, correct?" You nod your head again, "Yes, that is my husband." The floor suddenly creaks down the hall, the woman turns around sharply, flashlight pointing down the hall as you hide underneath the desk in preparation yet hear no rounds fired.

Looking up slowly, the room and the hall now appear empty as you listen to boots run down the hall and turn down the stairs into the living room. "Stay where you are," Charles demand comes through your ear, "okay," you whisper, holding onto the dog closely as you brace, listening to the distant conversation and then... BANG... a pause... BANG BANG. Another two shots sound and then... silence once more.

"Good girl, you did your work perfectly, my love," Charles praises you before telling you to come downstairs with the luggage for you both. You feel as your husband quickly pulls you in for a hug, caressing your head in an effort for you not to see the body behind him. You feel as he kisses the top of your head, "All ready to go?" he asks you.

"I'm ready," you respond with determination.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: no part 2's to this one!

─ · · JACKAL TAGLIST: @swiftietevitdrewjew @groovyponypatrollamp @alelo23 @apaperflowerreader @itz-stuts

44 notes · View notes

librivore42 · 1 day ago

Text

Sunrise, sunset

@dekariosclan's incredibly creative Midwinter gifts from Gale sparked an idea with my Tav and Gale that... barely features the book in the relevant gift. The muse wants what it wants!

But I dedicate this to you, for all the wonderful Galemancer content and inspiration. May you have a lovely 2025!

Full text is here on Ao3, but also under the readmore.

Sunrise, sunset (1631 words) by Librivore42 Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Baldur's Gate (Video Games) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Gale/Tav (Baldur's Gate) Characters: Gale Dekarios, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Hopeless Romantic Gale (Baldur's Gate), I'm telling you, this man would move the world for you Summary: Moving back to Waterdeep is an absolute joy for Gale, and he's only too happy to settle back in. His barbarian wife is less comfortable with city life, but he has just the idea to cheer up her winter blues.

~~~~~~

Gale's home fit around him again as if it had been aching for him to come back, the most comforting embrace. The sound of Tara's overjoyed voice, not to mention is brand new lease on life, had made the entire space glow with a warmer light than he'd seen a year.

And so much more than her voice and his life, someone to share all those things with and more. As if sensing his thoughts, strong arms wrapped around his waist, a comforting warmth at his back as Celia leaned her chin on top of his head. Watching him sort through his desk, tutting and shifting papers from one pile to another that all looked the same to her, which he seemed to do regularly with no change or development, until she was tempted to ask if he was just making up work to look busy and important.

He could be as busy and important as he liked as long as she got to hold him. She was already losing interest in whatever he was doing, looking out the window at the sky and marvelling at the delicacy of the clouds as they hung, fragile, in the Waterdeep sky around a setting sun.

By and by he landed on a familiar book under the papers, letting out a soft chuckle of recognition that drew her attention back to him.

The Art of the Night. The gold of the very… evocative cover illustration glinted in the now setting sun.

"You made this whole illusion of your tower back then," she said. "Magical invitation to your place, and the first thing you did was pull out a book."

He tilted his head back to squint at her in mock-annoyance, lifting up the book to tap it with the back of his hand. "It was meant to be seductive and sweep you off your feet, you absolute barbarian."

She buried her laughter in his hair, his entire body shaking with her joy.

"Only you'd ask a woman to bed using a book."

"Hm." He smiled, leaning back into her embrace. "What's more embarrassing? The fact that I did, or the fact that it worked?"

She laughed even louder at that, the walls ringing with merriment and life that it had been hungry for. That he'd been hungry for, back when the orb's hunger overtook everything. "Fine, fine. Soft city boy."

He would have bristled at that once upon a time, too engrossed in his own offence to notice how her eyes shone with amusement at his reaction. Pulling himself up to his full height to argue that he was not soft by any means, and citing evidence of their past battles as she just grinned down at him.

In fact, he'd been too wrapped up in himself to notice a lot of things. Glances he missed, casual touches that he never pulled away from but never truly registered, filing it away as something she did with everyone. Which she did, if very differently, had he even given it a modicum of thought.

But he couldn't be blamed for misinterpreting a barbarian's subtlety, if such a thing even existed. He might have been more aware had it been anyone else, but she was so loud, brash and blunt that he thought he'd have seen her coming a mile away.

"It's definitely one of my favourite books." Celia tightened her arms around him and nuzzled the top of his head with a gentleness that did not come easily to her. She inhaled, filling herself with his smell, his warmth.

She wasn't fond of reading herself, and didn't appreciate the finer points of a good leather binding the way he did. But she did love stories, and he loved to feel the weight of her head on his lap as he read to her from his collection. Loved to listen to her as she told the oral tales from her childhood, tribal stories she still remembered by heart, no matter how long she'd been away.

He turned his face towards one of her encircling arms and kissed a soft trail up her freckles like he was mapping a new constellation. "I've been thinking of us taking a trip, before the snows set in."

"Mhm?" She almost purred in contentment, wrapping him up more securely.

"I thought, perhaps—" he pulled away and drummed his fingers on the cover, looking out of the window at the gorgeous sunset painting the stones of the city. By the Gods did he love his home, his comfort and all things familiar that he never thought he'd see again.

But he loved her as well, very dearly, and a lot of it was still alien to her, settling uncomfortably on her shoulders no matter how patiently she bore the weight.

It had certainly taken him a while to realise that loud, brash and blunt people could be very quiet about some things, and nobody would ever notice. After all, if they had something to say, they would, wouldn't they?

Then again, he more than anyone should have known how easy it was to keep a secret when you hid it behind some showy confidence.

She'd been right that first week. For such a smart wizard, he could be very stupid.

"I thought that perhaps," he went on slowly, "you might like to visit your tribe."

Silence filled the air, cautious and surprised, and he winced, carrying on.

"And I must admit I've been rather curious about those big tribal feasts you've told me about. The storytelling by firelight. And… and I'm aware it's been some time since you've been home."

More silence. He set the book down and held her arms warmly, tilting back to look at her again and forging on.

"Years in fact. But that's all over, isn't it? There's no reason we can't. And—" he faltered as she hid her face in his hair again so he couldn't see her at all. She never hid from anything.

"My love." Gale spoke very, very gently, handling her with such care that belied all expectations of her size and strength. Gentleness that she would never admit to needing. "I know you miss being out in the wilds. Tents and piles of furs and hunting. And I want to give you some of that again. But more than that I know that you… miss your people. Your family."

He let the silence settle this time, giving her room to breathe, to think.

The voice that responded was so very small, it made his heart clench. "I don't know if they miss me."

"Love…"

She tightened her arms around him so much it hurt, but he'd gladly take the pain without a word. "If they push me away, my heart is going to break."

Squeezing her hands, he took hold of them and stepped towards the couch, settling her so he could see her face, with nowhere to hide from him. He took her face in his hands, feeling another twist in his heart at her beautiful, bright, fierce green eyes clouded by desperately unshed tears.

"Oh love. I'm sorry."

"No. No, you…" She held his hands tightly, trying to express with touch what she was struggling to convey in words. "You didn't do anything wrong. Thank you. I'm just a coward—"

"Now, I won't have you slander my wife like that."

She gave a wet sort of chuckle, leaning further into his touch as she shut her eyes tightly and just breathed.

"Fine. But I'm still afraid and I shouldn't be. It's been so long."

"You've never really had to seriously consider the idea of going back," he said, still gentle as he ran a thumb over her cheek. "By that metric it's been no time at all."

A hum, hard to read as convinced or otherwise, but she seemed steadier as she gave that some thought. He let the silence build again, seeing the need for it as she tried to get her thoughts in order. Trying to will the right words into existence.

The sun set softly into the sea, making room for the night as he pulled her close and just sat with her silence and warmth. He was happy to wait.

"If you come with me," she finally said, slow and careful as if feeling out unfamiliar ground, "you'll miss your warmth and soft cushions within a day."

He smiled as she opened her eyes a little to peek at him, gauging his reaction.

"I won't break from a little rough living." His voice was warm, a clear refusal to even consider the option of being left behind for his own comfort. "Besides, knowing you, you won't let me lift a finger."

"Because we'd starve otherwise."

A soft breath of amusement. "Admittedly I'm not much of a hunter, but I could certainly menace a vegetable if I was suitably armed."

She laughed, dashing away a tear as she turned her face enough to kiss his palm.

"You can be all warm and comfortable in the finest furs I can find, while I go catch us a deer."

"That sounds like adequate enough comfort for me."

"And you won't—"

He pulled her in for a kiss, feeling her melt into him, into his love and absolute certainty as he stole the rest of her questions and her breath.

Breaking apart, he leaned his forehead against hers with a sigh of contentment.

"I might grouse a little, yes. But I won't change my mind halfway or breathe a word about going back. I think by now you're well acquainted with how stubborn I can be."

Gods, the shine of pure joy and love in her eyes could put even a Waterdhavian sunset to shame.

"Together, then?"

"I wouldn't have anything else."

#baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #female tav #barbarian tav #Gale x Tav #galemancer #my writing #ao3

29 notes · View notes

yezzns · 19 hours ago

Text

Spending his break together — a Soobin drabble<3

pairings: Soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort.

warnings: none! But pls let txt rest (I’m talking to you, HYBE employee reading fanfics for fan service purposes)

check out my masterlist | remember this is fictional!

You could see it in his eyes during video calls—the toll of constant comebacks and rehearsals. His dedication was unwavering, but his health was starting to suffer. His fans were literally begging on every social media for the company to give his group a break, but Soobin still came on camera with his beautiful dimpled smile and tried to reassure everyone that they were just fine. It didn’t take long to become more evident, though, to the point it was starting to worry you, too. Being an idol’s partner wasn’t fun all the time, you’d spent more time without him than with him, and you feared that asking him to take it easy would come out as selfishness.

But when his company finally granted him a long-term break, it was like a breath of fresh air. You received his call while at work, and the relief in his voice was palpable. "Guess who's coming home for Christmas?" he said, and your heart leaped with joy.

The moment you saw him at the airport, a mix of emotions washed over you. He looked tired but happy, and the tight hug you share says more than words ever could. "I've missed you so much," he whispered into your hair, and even with his enormous height he looked like a vulnerable child, just glad to be back.

With Soobin home, your days are filled with cozy nights in. You’d cook his favorite meals, catching up on all the moments you missed. He helps you decorate the Christmas tree, laughing as he tries to untangle the fairy lights. You make it a point to take care of him, ensuring he gets plenty of rest. You have lazy mornings with breakfast in bed, and some late night walks to play in the snow— even when the cold becomes unbearable.

Knowing how much Soobin values quality time, you plan a day of relaxation. You both decide to stay in the day of his birthday, lounging in comfortable clothes and catching up on all the shows and movies he's missed during his busy schedule.

Throughout the day, you surprise him with little gifts. A cozy sweater, a book he's been wanting to read, and a new pair of headphones. Each gift is wrapped with love, and his eyes light up with every unwrapping. "You always know exactly what I need," he says, giving you a warm hug. In the afternoon, you suggest baking a cake together. Soobin's laughter fills the kitchen as you both fumble with the ingredients, making a mess but enjoying every moment.

As the day turned into night, you led Soobin to a surprise party you'd secretly arranged with his friends and family. The moment he steps into the backyard, he's greeted with a chorus of "Happy Birthday!" And you could swear you’ve never seen him happier before. Back at home, as you both got ready for bed, Soobin wrapped his arms around you and murmured, "This has been the best birthday ever. Thank you for everything."

As the year comes to an end, you spend New Year's Eve together, reflecting on the past year and all you've been through. At midnight, he pulls you close, kissing you softly and promising that the coming year will be even better.

This time together strengthens your bond like never before. Soobin appreciates your support, and you cherish every moment spent with him. As his break comes to an end, you both know that no matter how busy life gets, your love is the constant that keeps you both going.

a/n: in honor of Soobin’s update 💗 I miss him so so so much but I’m so happy to know he’s resting and sharing with his family. I’m just hoping they’ll get the rest they deserve and come back healthier and more energized! This was really rushed so I’m sorry if it’s kind of bad, just felt like writing a something for Soob.

27 notes · View notes

glamourscat · 22 hours ago

Note

*waves* hellooooo ❤️

Just wanted to ask if you could do an analysis for barou too?

thank you so much for requesting this, love Barou so much. Also, this is kinda long cause i yapped away too much

Barou Shoei, also knows as the “King,” is a character full of contradictions. On the surface, his egocentric view on life and arrogant attitude make him easy to label as short-tempered and a “red flag.” But Barou is much more complex than that.

First off, the king persona isn’t just a front. Barou genuinely believes he’s the king of the field. His confidence isn’t misplaced. He knows he has the skills to back it up. This confidence comes from his deep fear of mediocrity and his relentless drive to prove his worth, both to himself and to others.

During the second selection, I initially thought Barou would learn to pass the ball, become a team player, and maybe even become friends with Isagi. Wrong. Barou does the opposite of what’s expected. And that’s what i love. Instead of fitting in, he adapts in his own way, pushing himself even harder and maintaining his individual strength. That’s the beauty of Barou, he’s resilient and unbending. He doesn’t pass the ball, he pushes himself even more to advance Isagi, a threat to his progress and yet at the same time the spark that pushed him to advance.

But Barou isn’t just about ego and power. He’s also incredibly intuitive. In the light novel, we learn about his family, specifically about his absent father and the love Barou nurtures for his mother and sisters. At just seven years old Barou had to witness his father being a deadbeat. His mother, with a one-year-old on her back and a newborn in her arms, tirelessly cooked for him. This experience forged a strong bond between Barou and his mother. As the light novel states, “When his mother was having a hard time, why wasn’t his father there? While thinking vaguely, he devoted himself to keeping the house beautiful.”

It’s no wonder Barou can’t stand people like Nagi, who are too laid-back for his liking. Although his relationship with his father isn’t explicitly stated, it’s clear it’s not a positive one. Barou grew up with his mother as his role model. She worked her ass off to provide for him and his sisters, showing resilience and strength. How could Barou, the self-proclaimed king, give up on his dreams when his mother made so many sacrifices for him?

Which brings me to this. Barou’ behaviour is a byproduct of his upbringing and experiences. Barou’s intensity on the field is matched by his loyalty and protective instincts off it. He may not show affection in conventional ways, but his actions speak volumes about his commitment to those he deems worthy.

His sheer determination to succeed and independence reminds me a lot of the “eldest daughter curse.” The one who always has to put a brave face in front of everyone. The planner. The organiser. The parent. The sibling and the child they couldn’t be. It’s canon that besides for his birth, he never cried afterwards.

Maybe because he feels he does not have the right to? Maybe because he feels other people have it worse so he refuses to cry? Or maybe because after seeing and living with an absent father, picking up the role of the missing parent and emotional supporting figure for your sisters and mother, he kinda became numb. Because your feelings and worries become an afterthought.

So, no, Barou isn’t a red flag. His intensity and harshness are just part of his dedication and his refusal to settle for mediocrity. He’s deeply committed to his goals and willing to endure solitude and criticism to achieve them. Barou’s sense of honor and integrity also sets him apart. He doesn’t cheat or rely on underhanded tactics, he achieves his goals through sheer willpower and skill.

Because that’s simply who the king is. Barou is the essence of what it means to be a striker.

#barou shouei #baro shoei #bllk barou #blue lock barou #Barou shouei character analysis #bllk x reader #blue lock #blue lock headcanons #bllk headcanons #barou shoei x reader #character analysis #barou shouei headcanon

43 notes · View notes

angelicsjn · 1 day ago

Note

Hello! I was wondering what the boys' relationship is with their families? How do they feel about their relationship? I hope it's okay to ask, thank you very much!♡☆

YOUR SEVEN YANDERES.

A B O U T: The boys and their family.

W A R N I N G S: None.

— ROMAN BEAUREGARD.

Roman has a large family, and it's full of love. His family is his life. He adores them.

Roman's parents are his biggest fans. His father is quite well known in the motorsporting industry as he provides quite a lot financially in Formula 2 and 3.

His dad is his biggest role model.

Roman has two brothers who are also in the racing industry. One drives in F2 and the other in F3 — their parents are dedicated to creating world champions, it seems.

He also has plenty of cousins and loved ones — holidays, such as Christmas, are wild.

— LATEN REED.

Laten has a cosy family compared to Roman, but it's still full of love.

His dad died when he was in his early teens and that separated his family massively as his dad wasn't from the area he grew up, so, he rarely sees his dads side of the family anymore.

He has a younger brother and took on the role of 'dad' at a young age, having to become the man of the house.

But, he loves his family and gets on well with his cousins, aunts, uncles, and grandparents on his moms side.

Laten is full of love, but the death of his dad puts his emotions on pause, hence why he finds it so hard to emotionally connect with people.

— JAE 'NIKO' LEE.

Jae's family is very private and wealthy, but it's never spoken about.

There's rarely any photos online, no posts, nothing. You only know what you've seen and experienced yourself.

His father is a businessman and works closely with the KPOP industry — which allows him to get away with a lot of stuff...

His mom used to be a model when she was young. Now she's a sort of 'trophy wife', who lives in luxury and doesn't have to lift a finger.

He's not super close with his family. He has better things to do, and his family likes it that way — as long as he's not fucking his career up.

He's also an only child.

— KAIDAN WOLFE.

Kaidan is only in contact with his mom.

His dad left at a young age, and his family beyond his mother's love was non-existent.

Kaidan doesn't mind, though. All he needs is his mom, friends, and now you.

He'd rather spend Christmas with his friends on a trip to New York that he invites his mom to rather than playing happy family with people he's never met.

— HAYDEN WEST.

Much like Kaidan, his family is sparse.

He dislikes his birthday for a reason.

He's always been alone, and he's grown used to it. He enjoys it now.

Once you're in his life, you become his family.

His parents weren't the best of people, and after living in foster care for the majority of his life, he lives for himself now.

— JOSHUA WHITE.

Huge family man. He loves them.

His family is big, humble and full of love.

They're all religious and close-knit and honestly, almost cultish if you look at them from the outside.

They do pretty much everything together, and no secrets are kept as secrets.

Honestly, it's a very welcoming atmosphere, but at the same time, it's suffocating.

— BLAKE CROSS.

He comes from a family of businessmen/women, models, socialites, lawyers, sportspeople anything that brings the money in.

They're the type of family to have golfing and spa weekends, trips to Rome and Monaco where they sip champagne on yacht owned by his uncles.

His family is big in Holywood, but unknown to the public eye, he works behind the scenes and is a very influential man.

If Blake has an issue, his dad knows the right people, and they don't mind getting their hands dirty.

Blake has a younger sister who is a model and he's very protective over her, nobody fucks with his sister.

#darling reader #darlingcore #yandere #yandere oc #yandere oc x reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere oc x y/n #yandere oc x you #yandere x darling

32 notes · View notes

the-blind-assassin-12 · 3 days ago

Text

Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! I have been GRINNING and twirling my hair and giggling and kicking my feet for a full 24 hours now, and I truly don’t think that’s going to change any time soon because I just keep thinking about this story and this Dieter and just how PERFECT it all is! 🥹😭

Anyone who needs a fun, flirty, lovey-dovey pick me up, do yourself a HUGE favor and read this!!!!

You worked so many great details into these characters’ lives! You wrote YEARS worth of a (beautiful) relationship! You let Dieter (and Reader) be weird and silly together and I LOVE that! I seriously could not have asked for more, thank you from the depths of my soul for writing this!! (And for creating the moodboards!!! And adding in the gifs throughout!! GOSH! This was amazing and so much fun!!)

Gonna rattle off a bunch of things that I adored about this, probably out of order and definitely less than coherently because I’m still just 🥴🤪🥰 about it:

The way that they meet and just click! Dieter definitely strikes me as someone who has the capacity to fall hard and fast, and damn if I’m not the same way haha. I loved how easy things were between them. They literally made the perfect duet right from the start. (And the songs!!!!)

Kissing. Dieter. Under. THE MISTLETOE. I can die happy now. And he’s so fucking cute and flirty and kinda sorta smitten and I just 🥰 I love how in awe of Reader he is. (And I love how cool she is, too! An astronomer! Who writes fiction! And if I’m not mistaken, there was a little nod to some raunchy Ezra fic in there 😉)

Getting snowed in with him omg what a DREAM. What a DREAM! No but like I’ve literally had that dream and it was JUST like that.

I love how open and honest they are especially after Dieter makes things official. Being apart a lot is tough but they’re both just so steadfast and dedicated and in love and supportive and ughhhhhh!

The little (big) surprises for each other! The way they give each other experiences as gifts! THE BRACELET!!! Ahhhhh the bracelet and how meaningful it is to him! I could so clearly picture his upset face when it broke and then how happy he must’ve been when it was fixed again. 🥹🫶🏻

Oh! Dieter having the thought so early on about wanting to take reader to his vacation villa! That’s going to haunt me. Vacation Dieter is going to haunt me in the best way.

I could really and truly go on and on and on because every line had me smiling and each new paragraph had me saying “no way I get Valentine’s Day with him too? No way I get to walk the red carpet with him too?? No way I get to…” It’s the Christmas Fic Gift that just keeps giving and I feel so frickin lucky to be the recipient of such a great story that you clearly put a lot of thought and work and love into!! Thank you thank you thank you again, and I hope you’re having a great holiday! ❤️💚

Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe

A Dieter Bravo x F Reader romance by Artemiseamoon

Part of @pedrostories Secret Santa 2024. This is a gift for @the-blind-assassin-12 I was soooo excited to create this for you! I hope you enjoy it as much I do. 💜

Word count: 11k plus

Summary: While celebrating Christmas Eve in New York City, you enjoy the company of close friends and learn that dreams do come true when a certain brown eyed actor crosses your path. One encounter changes the events of your lives and marks Christmas as the most special time of year.

Reader: no physical descriptions given aside from being a woman. RC intended to be in late 30’s - 40’s and has a career. Dieter does give her a nickname. Feel free to read as RC or OC, your choice.

Warnings: mentions of (light not heavy handed) of drugs, recovery, sexual activity. Nothing graphic, no smut. Plus language, for cursing (if thats a warning?)

📚Read on A03⬅️

Christmas Eve, 2022

A festive spirit kissed the air as the city streets bustled with people coming and going. Locals on the move, tourists snapping photos, families on their way to relatives, and groups of friends headed to parties.

You tightened your grip on the cake box, snowflakes melting against your skin as you hurried your walk, now just blocks away from your best friend's home. It's a scenic route; decorated storefronts, lawns, and windows adorned with trinkets and ornaments; lights strung along trees.

As the snowfall increased, you pulled your hood over your head. In your pocket, your phone buzzed, then again, a second time. Not wanting to expose your hands, you decided to wait to answer. You wondered if it was an update about the weather.

A blizzard warning was in effect for two days from now. You hoped to be back home and cozy by then, but by the look of things, you just might get stuck here for the duration. Not that it was a bad thing, you had friends here and were staying in your bestie's spare bedroom.

Back inside the brownstone, you shook snow off your boots, set the box down on a bench and checked your phone. The wind kicked up outside, it's howl touching the doors before you.

Parker: I hope people come! It’s coming down hard out there :(

Parker: You ok? Not stuck in a snowbank, right? And THANK YOU for volunteering. You're a life safer! Remind me to not attempt cake making again.

Earlier, Parker tried their hand at baking. What came out of the over was - well - edible but not pretty. Parker's yearly Christmas party was a hit and each time they had a cake from their favorite bakery. This year, they got a bit crazy with the whole DIY thing and this happened. Once the cake emergency ensued, they found one place nearby with one cake left. You volunteered to pick it up.

You: Tonight will be amazing; I have a good feeling. And yes, I returned safely. Be up in a sec.

An hour later the house was packed, on the lower-level people danced, ate, and lost themselves in conversation, both deep and light. Laughter could be heard in bursts over the music from the speakers. On the second level, a game room was set up with an area for crafts. People lingered in the halls, conversing and some dancing. The third floor was closed off as far as the party went. The brownstone was busting with life, the continuous snowfall outside didn’t detract from the jovial mood.

“Karaoke!” Parker yelled into the room. They turned to you, “You know what this means. We need Stevie to start us off."

“We must summon Stevie.” One of your friends said while handing you their velvet scarf.

“Okay - I need to get in character.”

Scarf in hand, you excused yourself from the room. When you returned, you were in full character, wide-brimmed hat, extra necklaces, and a dark blanket wrapped around like a skirt. Your friends cheered as you took your place in the center of the room. Parker passed you the microphone and pressed play.

'Rock on, gold dust woman

Take your silver spoon, dig

Your grave'

As you perform, you do your famous Stevie Nicks impression, belting out the lyrics as you move across the room. You wouldn't say your voice was greatest, but you put on a damn good show.

As the middle of the song neared, your eyes floated to the back of the room. A group of people crowded into the living room, filling in any empty spots. You were about to turn away when something told you to keep looking. At the very back of the group a man stood out, his head was lowered and all you could see was messy brown curls. As he lifted his head, everything slowed down and you missed a line.

You'd know that face from anywhere!

That hair

That nose

Those brown eyes

And when he smiled, you heart skipped a beat. You were either hallucinating, or Dieter Bravo had one hell of a lookalike!

You continued on with the song, trying to convince yourself that once the performance was over, you'll realize this dude didn't look like Dieter at all.

What would he be doing at a random house anyway?

By the song's end, your heart was in your throat. The man still looked a hell of a lot like Dieter, and now you were convinced you slipped into some kind of dream state. Handing the mic to the next person, you grabbed Parker by the hand and rushed to the kitchen.

“Is that Dieter fucking Bravo in your house?” you asked while grabbing their shoulders.

Parker shook their head, looking as surprised as you. "Unless all of us are having some mass hallucinations then um - yeah, I think- unless he has a twin brother."

"He does not, he's an only child," you opened the door to take a peek, and catch a glimpse of some people looking up his photo and talking. You dip back into the kitchen. Getting antsy, you start walking around, your mind recalling the moment your eyes met across the room. "No, no that is him, the real him."

You would know. You’ve studied and dreamed about that man more times than you’re willing to admit. You have an insane number of photos, videos, and gifs of him all saved in an album titled ‘Dieter my love’. The handsome, adorable, trash panda of a famous actor ruined your life- well, not ruined, but to say you were obsessed would be fair.

Well, not obsessed but-

Okay, he took over your brain, your thoughts, your heart.

Parker shrugged, “I don’t - did he just- wander in here?”

Before either of you could muse further, Parker’s girlfriend entered the room. She was stuck doing the afternoon shift at the bar she worked at, and the evening person was late, hence her late arrival.

“So, um - that's Dieter Bravo.”

“And how is he here?” Parker asked.

“This sounds crazy but - he stopped in the bar, ten minutes before I left. We got to talking and I kinda - invited him.” Jett replied.

You moved closer, trying to digest her words. “You just casually met and invited Dieter Bravo to a party?”

“Yeah. I was already late, why not bring one hell of a gift for our favorite person!" She took your hand.

While staring at her, you pinched yourself with your free hand. Yep, real, this was very real. Seconds later, you pulled her into a hug. Behind you, the door swung open.

“Hi,” Dieter waved at the three of you. “Hope you don’t mind, crashing your party and all." he said to Parker.

You assumed Jett told him who's who already.

“As long as you have fun and don’t steal all the thunder.” Parker replied, then shared a glance with Jett. “We have to - get something.” They grabbed Jett's hand and left the kitchen.

The door swung closed again, leaving you and Dieter alone. Not knowing what else to do, you froze.

He's so - soft-looking. He was dressed comfortably, dark loose pants and a fuzzy sweater. He even appeared a bit tired, but in a hot cuddly kind of way.

“And you must be Calliope herself,” he smiled.

“Greek muse of song and poetry, nice -” you leaned against the counter behind you, mainly for balance as your legs turned to Jello.

“I know you are," he said your name, " Jett gave me the quick rundown, the most important people at least.”

A giddy feeling washed over you, your name on his lips echoing in your mind. “Glad I’m one of the important ones. So, you make this a habit, crashing house parties?"

“Sometimes,” he jested, “no - actually, Jett's really cool, and getting a drink alone was fucking depression so -" he moved to the snack stray, but kept his eyes mostly on you, “here I am.”

“Hard to believe you were alone today, being so famous and all.”

“I didn’t want anyone around -" he started to snack, “then, I changed my mind.”

“Hence the drink?”

He winked at you. With a plate of snacks, Dieter moved closer, mirroring your body language against the counter.

A brief silence fell between you, and your mind was firing off in a million directions. All of a sudden, you lose the ability to conversate again. So, you just look at him as he looks at you, taking the moment in, letting yourself be star stuck.

Done with the snacks, Dieter put the plate down then rolled up his sleeves, revealing his assorted bracelets. Your gaze lingered there; you loved his arms, and his hands. Your gaze dropped to his fingers, then his rings.

When his eyes met yours again, you went with the first thing on your mind.

“Are you in New York for work?”

“No. I took the time off. I don’t like to work during the holidays - no Hollywood stuff.”

You faced him directly, instead of just stealing side glances. “What's your ideal way to spend Christmas?”

Dieter grinned at the question. “Sleeping in. Pancakes for breakfast…movie marathon, you know, the classics -” he ran his hand through his hair, “in pajamas all day.”

"You already wear pajamas all the time."

He laughed at your comment. "These are the outside pajamas - not the pajamas-pajamas."

"Ah, got it."

His next smile was sheepish as he glanced at the floor, looking suddenly vulnerable, “with someone - or alone.”

You frowned a little, all of you wanting to hug him.

“Dieter, I hope you get your dream Christmas this year.”

“Yeah, we’ll see -" his tone wasn't so convincing. He stared off for a second, then looked at you. “What’s your perfect Christmas day?”

Your heart was beating so fast now you could hear it drum in your ears. He was so present with you, you almost felt exposed, naked under his gaze-

“As cozy and warm as possible. My mind is on a lot, for work. So just unplugging and having a nice day, that’s good enough for me.”

Dieter listened with a spark in his eyes. Just as he was about to ask a question, you gained some company. A group of three people you didn’t know well entered; one already had their phone out.

“Could we get a picture? If you don’t want to - "

“I’m in the middle of a very interesting conversation,” he gestured to you.

Your smile returned. He wasn’t necessarily rude about it, but he was clear. And they got the point as they left the kitchen. His attention was instantly on you again, his gaze full of interest as he studied you.

Is this what it feels like, to be a work of art in a museum, under appreciative eyes?

He started, “I hate this question, so - forgive me for asking but-”

“Astronomer by day, writer by night” you replied.

Depending on the person, you only replied ‘astronomer’, but if you liked the person, you didn’t mind revealing a little more about the writing part. Then there was the whole pen name thing as your non-work-related writing was on the saucier side. Constellations and planets by day. Sex pollen by night.

Dieter dipped his head, keeping his eyes on you, “seriously?”

“Seriously.”

He inched closer. “What do you write?”

“A little of everything. Mainly fiction.”

“Anything published?”

“One, last year I wrote this book, like a merge of my two words. It’s a retelling of the myths of the constellations. My second book, that's - coming along - it's a sci-fi thing.”

Dieter’s eyes lit up. He placed a hand on your shoulder, your name on his lips.

“Yeah?” You chuckled, not sure what to make of the way he was staring at you, all while trying to play it as cool as fucking possible because inside, you are anything but chill.

“You are the coolest fucking person here - ever!” Dieter raved.

You chuckled, “stop. You're the Oscar-winning movie star. I’m just…me. A girl who was so obsessed with the stars she made a career out of it. Who likes to write spicy sci-fi too.”

Dieter got a little closer, and as he moved his hand back to rest it on the counter, he almost knocked some things over. He quickly fixed them, then made eye contact.

“Astronomer? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how smart you have to be for that?" He counted on his fingers, "Published author. Karaoke star and fucking gorgeous.”

Your breath stilled, heart beating faster as he gushed about you! By some weird miracle you were holding your shit together while internally kicking and screaming. Here he was your celebrity crush - complimenting you.

"Thank you,” nervousness fluttered in your gut. You shook your head and laughed, “I’m not gonna lie. I’m a huge fan of yours and kinda freaking out right now.”

Dieter smiled.

Fuck, he thought. You were making his heart race; he had those silly butterfly things talking to you - and he was nervous - nervous. He rarely got nervous. Knowing you both were trying to keep your cool was comforting.

You revealed your shaking hands, which you were keeping buried in your pocket for a reason. “See? Not keeping it cool at all.”

Dieter extended his arm, “check my pulse.”

His heart rate was through the roof. This was unreal. He hummed softly at your touch, your fingers so soft against his skin. And when you moved your hand, he instantly missed the contact.

“How about we calm our nerves, yeah? I heard there’s a game room upstairs,” Dieter suggested.

“Follow me,” you pushed yourself forward and headed to the door.

The inner you was screaming even louder now. You didn't know if you'd freeze again or find your flow, but it was worth it to find out. Plus, even if it was a little selfish, you were glad to steal him away before he gets overloaded with picture requests.

Half an hour later, you and Dieter remained in your cozy corner of the game room. Jenga was the current game of choice as you navigated all the interest he was drawing. You talked about music and art. You imagined meeting him before, but as great as your imagination is, anything you dreamed up didn't compare to this.

After Cliff Beasts 6 in 2020, his reputation was a roller-coaster - dipping and rising - calming and amping up - which seemed to be the norm for him. By time the documentary came out earlier this year, he appeared to be in control again.

"I had to get my shit together, " he shared with you, "clear my mind. Find my center. There was this great place Anika recommended."

"Are you two still close?" You asked, carefully pulling a block from the tower.

"She's so cool - we're good friends."

You learned the romance was short lived, but they gained life-long friends out of it, and she was super supportive of his recovery journey. You remembered when he came back from the center, he looked great, refreshed and healthy. Sadly, it didn't stop the tabloids from talking shit and retelling his greatest 'party' hits.

As you and Dieter talked, getting to know more about each other while topic hopping to random things, your excitement for what could happen tonight grew. You knew his reputation, and the risks. But a chance with your celebrity crush was something most people didn't get - and you weren't going to let this pass you by.

Fifteen minutes later you were back to talking about music and live shows, while deep in a game of twister. Prior to the game, Parker and Jett lured most of the people away, almost giving you the room alone.

“Want to do a song - or songs - with me?” Dieter asked from beneath you.

“Hell yes - how about something from the 90s?"

“Fuck yes! Pop? Alternative?”

You tried to reach for the spinner, “why not both?"

“We should do a Christmas song too!”

“Sure. A fun one though! How about a super sexy Santa baby - oh fuck -”

Your leg slipped from beneath you, causing you to crash into Dieter. Bot of you hit the ground and burst into laughter.

“Have you ever heard the Eartha Kitt version?” you asked, rolling off of Dieter.

He laid on his side, doe-eyed and smiling “Obviously. It’s one of the best. Wait - Can we do Baby it’s cold outside too?”

"It’s a date. Plus, people can snap all those pictures they’ve been asking for.”

Dieter smiled as he took you in. “I don’t care about any of that, this- I like this.”

After doing three fun and naughty songs with Dieter, your friends pulled you away to get the tea. Everything sounded crazy as it left your lips, but it was true, the vibes were vibing and hanging out with him felt so easy - so natural.

Once you were done speaking with your friends, you found Dieter downstairs with a group around him. He seemed to be having a decent time, yet as soon as he saw you, he lit up and then made his way over to you.

“We killed it up there.” He commented, then offered you the rest of his cake.

“Don’t tempt me. I’ve already had one and a half."

"This is my second, I had to race someone to it." he said as he took another bite.

"To be fair, I was the one who went out to get it. Snow and all.”

“You did! Look, this cake is divine, if this cake wasn’t here, I might have left.”

You laughed, “and what about me?”

“You or the cake? Oh, I’m choosing the cake.”

“Wow,” you pretended to be offended then glanced out the window. Everything was covered in inches of snow. Before you can turn around, you feel Dieter over your shoulder.

“Seriously though, if it's you or the cake, fuck that cake.”

“Right answer."

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

Maybe, just maybe fairytales were real - even if for one night. You playfully tugged at his sweater while grinning, “careful, keep complimenting me like that and I'll have to kiss you under the mistletoe.”

A playful smile touched his lips. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nod.

Before you could take a full breath, Dieter was leading you through the crowded room, down the hallway, and to the side room turned photo op. You worked hard this morning getting this space just right, but never imagined you'd be in it with Dieter of all people. In the corner a couple was making out, in another people were using the portable photo booth station.

Dieter only stopped moving once you were under the mistletoe.

His gaze fell to your lips before rising to your eyes, “I’ve been dying to kiss you all night."

You gave a cheeky reply, “well, I’m right here,”

Dieter slid one arm around you, pulling you closer while brushing your chin with his fingers: his bedroom eyes further igniting the fire within you.

“You really are wonderful, you know that?” said Dieter with a soft breath.

Before you could respond, Dieter closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours. His lips were soft against your own, and the tenderness with which he kissed you made your heart race. As the kiss deepened, you slid your fingers up the nape of his neck and into his hair. Dieter responded with a low moan against your lips.

“You taste as good as you look,” he moaned.

“The feeling is mutual.”

“Let's do more of that, a lot more.”

This time you drew him in by his shoulders, initiating the second kiss. Easily you lose yourself in his embrace. His lips were sweet, like the cake he’d eaten minutes before, the same cake you walked five blocks in snow to get. How the fuck is this real, you thought. You would have never imagined while you held that cake for dear life that you'd be tasting it on Dieter's kiss.

“Spend tonight with me?” Dieter asked as he drew in a breath.

You parted your lips to speak, nothing came out. The full shock of everything that just happened hitting you all at once.

Dieter waited for your answer, hoping you’d say yes. Sex with you would be amazing, it would greatly improve what's been a depressing and lonely week in New York. You're the stuff of dreams, and so damn beautiful he might just pick up a brush and paint again.

All that talk about muses, yeah, he really understood it now. Just a couple of hours with you had his mind thinking up all kinds of things. He imagined taking you to this vacation villa, a soft breeze coming in off the water as you posed for him; Dieter capturing your essence with each stroke of the brush against canvas. And when he wasn't painting, you two could spend long afternoons and lazy mornings in bed.

His mind went back to sex, it would be spectacular, he knew it. He was also content to just hang out with you all night until you’ve both fallen asleep. You're that fucking cool and he just wanted more time, no matter how you spent it. He knew his reputation, and as you still hadn’t answered, he feared that was why.

“Dieter I-”

Dieter leaned in, hanging on your every word.

“I’d love that.”

“Yes!” Dieter did a fist pump, then wrapped his arms around you again. “I can’t promise we’ll get a cab at this point - we might have to walk.”

You trailed his jawline with your nails, “I’ve got my snow boots.”

“Wow,” he held you at a distance to take you in, “we’re leaving. Now.” With your hand in his, Dieter made his way to the door.

“I need my coat and my boots silly,” you laughed, “give me five minutes. “

About 30 minutes later, and with no cabs in sight, you made it to his hotel room. By car ride, he was just 15 minutes away, but on foot, plus all the snow, it was twice as long. You made the best of it along the way, stopping to make snowmen and angels, even having a brief snowball fight.

Inside, the room was warm and toasty. Dieter made you a cup of tea as he called the desk to extend his stay. Instead of checking out in the morning, he gave it one more day. The snow continued to fall dramatically outside.

As he finished up the call, you contemplated taking a hot shower, then changing. You did take an overnight bag for tonight, and the dry jammies were calling your name. Deciding a shower would help with the chill in your bones, you suggested the idea to Dieter, he was happy to oblige. Once you were out, you made yourself comfortable as he did the same.

A half-hour later, you were cuddled up on the couch, under blankets as you talked about everything and nothing. Dieter got up briefly then returned with something in his hand,

“KitKat?”

You smiled; he really loved these things as much as you heard.

“I have a whole bunch in the fridge. Have as many as you want, but not the last one.”

“I promise to not eat your last kit, Kat Dieter,”

“There’s something about it chilled; it's gotta be chilled,” he leaned back with a sigh, then rolled to his side. “Can I tell you something?”

“Sure,” you said, snapping one of the bars off.

“I was having a really shitty day, week...month,” he shrugged, “I thought I wanted to be alone for the holiday, then realized I didn't. Then I went on Tinder and that shit was depressing."

“I bet you had a line around the block of people waiting for the honor.”

“Since I cleaned up - there are certain crowds I don't hang around anymore, it's bad for my aura and shit. I keep it simple now - pot, wine, the occasional drink and I love shrooms too much to give them up. Don't ever ask me to give those up. The harder stuff, though, I haven't touched in months.”

“That's a big deal, Dieter, congratulations.”

He nuzzled his head against the pillow while gazing at you. “Have I told you how beautiful you are.”

“Yes, and you can keep on if you want,”

“I will, all night, and tomorrow too.”

You sat up, covering your face with your hands before lowering them again. “Dieter, this is nuts. You're my biggest crush ever and here we are!"

“Fuck, I know right, I can’t believe it either,” he pressed his forehead to yours while looking into your eyes, “I think we met before, in another universe.”

“Or - another life.”

“Or both.”

“Okay, both. I like that.” you ran your hands down his chest with a soft hum, “you are as cuddly as I imagined.”

“Lucky for you I need more cuddles, come here!” Dieter drew you back into his arms.

'Blizzard warning in effect for New York State Tri-Area - all flights have been temporarily suspended due to inclement weather, please contact your air carrier for further details - travel on the roads is not advised -'

“Breakfast is here,” Dieter called out from the hall.

You were parked in front of the TV, watching the news feed. The blizzard did not wait for two days from now as first reported, it hit late last night, around 3 am, You wouldn’t have known it, you and Dieter were too busy exploring each other's bodies until you were exhausted, then fell asleep cuddling; he was your little spoon.

When you woke up around ten am, secure in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his excitement evident, you turned to kiss him, leading to a lazy sensual morning in bed. Now it was around noon, and you were both so hungry you were getting a little grumpy, so Dieter ordered room service. You also took the time to answer the many texts from your concerned friends to confirm that you were indeed fine, in a land of bliss actually and that was all you could say for now.

The aromas of cinnamon, spice, coffee, and freshly baked goods met your nose, making your stomach grumble. You clicked off the TV and joined him in the kitchen.

“I’ve extended my stay, two more days but I have to leave by Thursday morning, a work thing.” he pulled out a chair for you to sit on, then kissed you on the lips, “Merry Christmas.”

In the back of your mind, you remind yourself to change your flight as well. From the looks of it outside, there is no way you are flying out tomorrow.

You dug something out of your pocket, “yesterday morning, I gave all my friends their presents and I had an extra one. At first, I thought it was a miscount but now - “you passed him the pouch, smiling proudly. "“Merry Christmas, Dieter."

Dieter moved his chair closer to yours then opened it up revealing a hemp bracelet with round stone beads.

“It's a grounding and protection mix, that's shungite, red jasper, and smoky quartz...some tourmaline too.”

“What have I done to deserve you,” he gushed, then quickly slipped the bracelet on his wrist. "Thank you.”

“My pleasure.” you watched him a moment longer, then decided to eat, your stomach was growling at you.

“You know shungite is used to block EMF radiation, that shit fucks with your brain waves. Messes you up. I have a piece on my phone case.”

Smiling, you dig your phone out of your pocket and flip it over.

“No fucking way - “he picked it up, amazed. “You’re perfect, literally, perfect. Do you know a lot about stones? I have this room in my house - all crystals, some giant fucking ones too. I don’t know what they all mean - a friend gave me a book, but I never read it. I have an idea! What if you came? I could show you the room and you can tell me what they are. I have a telescope too, a really good one - I think you'd like it.”

“Is this your way of asking me to visit?” you tease while tugging at his shirt.

“Yes, of course! You must visit - you have to.”

“Then of course I will - was that your stomach?”

“Yes. It demands food.”

You took the lids off the plates and handed him a fork. “Let’s eat.”

Dieter shook his head while speaking with his hands. “No - that shit calcifies the pineal gland. Stay away from those -”

You’ve been deep in conversation now for about two hours. Dieter was lying on his back while you laid on his chest, the both of you still naked from your previous activities.

It was beautiful, the both of you in your own little world as the snow fell heavily outside. You’ve juggled so many topics of conversation it was a little hard to keep track, but you were going with the flow and loving every second of it. Dieter's a wild, unpredictable, cozy ride and you’ve never been more thankful for a snowstorm in your life.

“How do you feel about New Year's resolutions?” You asked, not sure why you did.

He shook his head. “I don’t do that.”

“Yeah, I used to when I was younger, but not anymore...have you ever had your birth chart done?” You could admit you've looked it up before, or at least the speculated chart, but don't.

“Of course, show me yours and I’ll show you mine?” Dieter already had his phone out for you to view.

2023

Being snowed in with Dieter weeks ago was a dream, one that kept you warm and fuzzy during the winter and through the month of January. As it neared its midway point, you weren't sure what you and Diter were. One night stand? Friends with benefits to be? When you parted ways post storm, nothing was defined. You knew there was a possibility, you’d never hear from him again, but to your surprise, he texted you just days later.

Even though his communication was sporadic at times, he did reach out. Now you had numerous texts, phone calls, and video calls between you as January neared its end. Plans remained undefined as far as a visit to LA, but you understood how crazy his schedule was so didn’t push. Plus, everything was so fresh, and you wanted the real invite to come naturally without any pressure.

You were smitten as all hell and falling, hard. All while trying to keep a sensible mind about it. The 'what are we?' questions following you around like a phantom. It didn't help that he wore your bracelet - all the time! You even spotted it in a recent interview. Was it delusional to think that maybe- just maybe -

Then there was the press, the beast, the greedy machine and all the speculation about Dieter and his sex life. Every week it seemed a new person he was rumored to be with, or some crazy drug crazed party people claimed he was at. The rumors of relapse were the most upsetting, especially because you knew he was working his ass off to keep it together.

It wasn't uncommon to have a few days when you didn't hear from him, he was a busy guy after all. Some days he just sent some emojis until he could talk again. You were having one of those weeks, left with memories and emojis until the real thing came. You spent your

time working on your new book and at the planetarium. It was at the end of a very long shift when you heard from him again.

First came the text with a link to an upcoming concert on January 30th. The headliner was one of yours and Dieter's favorite 90’s alternative bands.

Dieter: Meet me in New York. I owe you a date.

You: It’s true…I don’t know if the snow days counted as a date.

Dieter: Dinner, anywhere you want, then the show. VIP seats. Then I plan to spend the night between your thighs.

You: You better :) Let's do this.

In two days, it would be the last day of the year, and you couldn't wait for the reunion.

The concert at Madison Square Garden was amazing. After the show, you ended up in Dieter's hotel room, already making out as he swiped the key card.

“I have to leave really fucking early. International flights man -” he said between kisses.

You weaved your fingers through his hair, "we better make the best of our time then.”

Dieter woke up before sunrise, and though you didn't know it, he spent some time watching you sleep. The last thing he wanted was to disturb you, but he knew you’d be upset if he left without saying goodbye.

Using gentle kisses along your neck and chin, Dieter whispered against your skin, “baby, I have to leave.”

You didn’t wake right away; it took a minute or two until your eyes opened. A smile formed on your lips; Dieter's definitely your favorite sight in the morning.

“It’s time already?” you yawned.

“Sadly, yes-” he buried his face beneath your chin, taking in your scent, “fuck it, I’ll cancel my flight.”

“This is important, I can’t let you do that - you wanted this meeting for how long?”

“A long time -"

Dieter had a script idea, and a director in mind. He explained the character as a cowboy secret agent, a role he always wanted to play. This trip, the first part at least, was about making that happen.

“We’ll just have to see each other next time you're free,” you pouted.

Last night added up to four nights total with Dieter, but still, you were drunk on him. He was already weaving his way into your heart in such a short amount of time.

Dieter balanced himself on his elbows as he studied you, “visit me.”

“You know I would,” you replied.

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

As he smiled, you poked his dimple.

“I get back from Europe late at night, February 13th.” He turned and rummaged around the desk in the dark. Once enough things fell over, you turned on one of the lights on while laughing.

“Thanks,” he flashed a smile at you then sat up and turned away.

“What are you hiding?”

“Can you do it, a flight the morning of the 14th?”

“I think I can swing that.” That was in 13 days from now, you could use your PTO, “yeah, let’s do it.”

Dieter finally turned to you, presenting a sticky note with a heart drawn on it and text in the middle,

“Be my Valentine?”

He was the cutest you’ve ever seen him; messy hair, big brown puppy dog eyes, it was heartwarming. “Of course, I’ll be your Valentine.”

“It’s settled then; I’ll buy your ticket.” he sighed deeply while pulling you into a hug. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

His next alarm went off, he groaned and snoozed it.

“You’re going to be late -"

“I’ll make it, but we need to be fast. No way I’m leaving here without one more taste of you - “ he tore the covers away and moved between your legs.

“If you miss that flight don’t blame me,” you tugged at the waistband of his pants.

“If I miss it, I get to stay here, fucking you all day. I call that a win.”

“Well, if you put it that way-” grabbing a fist full of his shirt, you pulled him down into a kiss. “Then we’ll get you on a later flight because this is important, and I won't let you bail on it.”

“How did I get so damn lucky?” he smiled warmly then started to undress you.

As the car pulled up to the gates, you couldn’t believe you were really there. Dieter Bravo's house. After a brief drive, you arrived at the front door, finding him waiting for you.

He looked adorable, his hair, pajamas and signature green robe plus his furry boots. His face lit up as he saw you. Dieter quickly took his sunglasses off, hung them on his shirt, and went to greet you.

“Sweetheart, it’s good to see you,”

You're in his arms in an instant, his hug warm and secure.

“How was your flight?”

“First class direct with all the perks. I can’t complain.”

“Good," he took a step back holding your arms as he took you in, “you look great.”

“I’m in tights and a hoodie “

“You look great,” he repeated, his gaze soft on yours.

Dieter slid one hand down your arm while raising the other to your chin, admiring you further before kissing you. The kiss transports you back to Christmas Eve, under the mistletoe.

“I’m glad you could make it Cosmo. Come, there's so much I want to show you.”

You’re not sure what you expected his house to look like, but now that you’re here, it seems fitting. Posters of all kinds, movies, concerts, art prints. Paintings large and small, interesting pieces of furniture sprinkled in with the basics, more than a few bean bags and lava lamps.

“Happy Valentines Day!" he beamed.

“Happy Valentines.” you replied, interlacing your fingers with his as he walks you through the house.

As the tour went on, Dieter couldn't believe his luck. He missed you like hell and finally you were here. He was beyond smitten, he was hooked, whipped. You, the most perfect woman ever, possessed him, he thought of you day and night, thoughts both pure and unholy. He even took one of your bras after the snowstorm in NY and kept it.

He also kept the note you wrote after your snowed-in adventure. Dieter didn’t see you write it, but at the airport, he reached in his pocket and found it, rolled up like a scroll, a makeshift ribbon around it,

Lovely being snowed in with you , Xo Cosmo

You even left a lipstick stain on the back, and he handled the note so carefully, worried he’d tear it. He liked that the nickname grew on you, at first, he wasn’t sure if you’d like it. He kept it in his pocket all the time, just like he always wore your bracelet.

You busied yourself in the living room as Dieter took some calls. It was a short while later he returned with a woman trailing behind him. She was carrying a portfolio, notebook, and a tablet all under one arm: definitely an assistant. Currently, she was texting, typing faster than you’ve ever seen anyone type.

“There she is - “His expression lighted at the sight of you. Standing at the back of the couch, he leaned over to kiss you. “I have this thing tomorrow evening. Couldn’t get out of it. But -” he rounded the couch and sat next to you, “my attention is all yours before and after.” he held his hands together apologetically.

You took his hands in yours. “Dieter, it’s okay.”

“No, it’s not - I said we’d have four days together, undisturbed and -" he took a deep breath, then glanced at his assistant, “what if I show up for the post-viewing part?”

With her eyes still downcast, she replied, “You need to be there by 7. Red carpet, photo ops, all the norms. The viewing starts at 8-”

He scratched his beard, “no, that's too early. How about 7:30? 7:45?”

His assistant glanced up with a pinched expression. “Mr. Bravo, you know the drill.”

He waved his hand, “I hate all that shit; besides I have company,” he kissed your hand.

“Be there at 7, get all the stuff out of the way and I’ll tell them you had business after so can’t do the Q&A?”

“See! She’s the best - the best - “he jumped up and gave her a hug. “Wait, proper introductions.”

Dieter proceeded to introduce you two, and you learned her name, Colleen.

“Anything else before I go?” Colleen asked.

Dieter stretched out over your legs like a big cat. “Wait, they’ll have the Kit Kats, right? Last time, they forgot the Kit Kats-”

“They will have the Kit Kats-”

"Are you sure? Will they be chilled?”

“Yes, Mr. Bravo.”

“Good -" he ran his fingers through his hair while nodding, then chuckled as you scratched his tummy.

“Any other request?”

You could tell she asked because she had to. Her stress level seemed high, but you could imagine why. As smitten as you were over Dieter, you would not want to be his personal assistant.

“No - wait! “His eyes widened as he sat up, “a mascot! I need a mascot.”

“A mascot?”

You even crooked a brow at him while biting back a laugh.

“Yeah. Like they have in games but a big kit Kat.” he used his hands to demonstrate as he spoke.

“Umm - I don’t know if -”

“If they want me there early, I need a mascot. I'll even do that stupid Instagram thing - only if I have the mascot.”

“Um - yeah, a Kit Kat mascot…” Colleen jotted it down in her phone, “I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Colleen. Now I'd like to get back to my lady.”

My lady, your heart fluttered at the words.

“Nice to meet you, “she said your name, “bye Mr. Bravo.”

“Dieter! Mr. Bravo sound so -”

She was already gone and out the door before he could finish. You scratched his tummy again with a smile,

“You are so weird. A KitKat mascot?”

“You like me anyway.”

“I do.”

The premiere the next night went well. You got all dressed up and walked the carpet with Dieter, though it was a short walk. You waited off to the side for the rest as he took his solo shots and signed autographs. Even when you weren't at his side, he kept looking back at you and it made you feel close.

Once all the necessary stuff was over, he changed into more comfortable clothes, you even got a few funny pictures with him and the Kit Kat mascot. Its appearance was confusing yet entertaining. It didn’t stay the whole time, just for the first hour. The mascot was waiting for you when you arrived at Dieter's dressing room. It was a compromise the theatre made to not distract from the event but fulfill Dieter's request. Dieter even paid the guy $200 bucks to keep the costume, which the guy agreed to.

Afterward, you headed back to Sherman Oaks. For the last thirty minutes, you've been in Dieter's backyard lying on the trampoline. You’ve talked about your favorite stars and constellations and taught him some ones he didn't know but often saw in the sky.

Dieter rolled on his side to look at you, “do you believe in Aliens?”

“Of course.”

“Me too. Think they're watching us right now?”

“They could be.”

“We could give them a show?”

“You are naughty, “you laughed, “how about you put on that Kit Kat costume, and I’ll get an alien one-”

“Ooh,” he sat up, “weird - but I like it -”

“I was just joking, you know.”

“Nope,” he laid on top of you, “it's too late now. We have to do it.”

24 hours later you were home and still buzzing from your visit.

You didn’t have to wait long to hear from him either, he checked in to make sure you boarded and then landed safely. And later that night, he sent you a text once he got home from a busy day.

Dieter: Looking at the stars, I am a little high, it was a stressful day okay... and thinking about you, that's the important part. See you soon Cosmo.

Now Spring was here.

You’ve been busy, busier than usual. With your new book finished you were officially in the time-consuming editing process. Plus, things amped up at work and you had a full plate. Dieter was busy too, as he was starting work on a new project. Your schedules meant it would be some time until you saw each other again and would have to rely on phone calls and texts in the meantime.

As you reached the middle of May, you were missing him badly, but thankfully didn’t have to wait long. You were in the middle of some work when the text came.

Dieter: I can only stay for 2 days. NEEEEEED to see you.

He arrived three days later. You were just out of the shower when he rang your bell. You unlocked the door, told him to come in then quickly pulled some clothes. He greeted you with a big kiss, then dramatically walked into the kitchen.

“Dieter you, okay?”

He collapsed on the counter, hiding his face. “Don’t be mad.”

“Okay - that is never a good way to start a sentence."

“It was awful, the worst ever -"

“Now you’re freaking me out."

He stripped off his jacket, threw it on the floor then held out his arm.

“Um?"

“The bracelet. It’s dead!”

You burst into laughter.

“No, no you don't understand, this is a very serious matter! I was wearing it - just getting my morning coffee and putting my headphones in - wired only and it just fucking - it went everywhere!" he was using sound effects now," worst day of my life. - Hey, I'm serious.”

“I know I know and you're very cute." you caressed his face, fingers in his hair, “did you follow my care instructions?"

“Yes,” he said while shaking his head no. “I could have taken better care of it.”

“These things happen, I can make you a new one.”

“No! I want the old one - the old one is special; it's the night we met.”

“Managed to salvage any of it?”

“Every-single -bead.” he dug a small bag out of his pocket. “I hope.”

“Baby, it's okay, really, I'll use this to make you a new one, a Dieter-proof one.”

While Dieter was out running errands the next day, you busied yourself with setting the mood for dinner. By the time you were done, candles decorated the table adding ambiance, and music played on the record player.

He sent you an update text, letting you know he was running a little late on his return trip. Keeping the food warm, you took a seat and scrolled on your phone. A few funny and cute videos would pass the short wait. After a couple of entertaining videos, you came across one with Dieter’s face in the background, and a woman in the foreground speaking,

“Dieter Bravo and co-star Scarlet Rose getting cozy on set -”

A knot formed in your gut, you quickly hit pause to shut her up. No, don’t look. It’s bullshit. Gossip. But the reminders don’t work, and you find yourself recalling that you and he never really had 'the talk'. For you, even without a title, Dieter was your world, and you just kind of figured it was the same for him, now you wondered, if it wasn't.

“Shit-” you press play on the video. The picture changes to one of Dieter and Scarlet looking really cozy.

"I don’t know about you, but they look really friendly to me."

You told yourself to stop but can't and then the last picture popped up. You studied it closely. At first glance, just two people speaking closely but the longer you looked-

“No, don’t fall for it. They’re just talking, and she stands too close to everyone.” You told yourself as you put your phone away.

Even as Dieter walked through the door minutes later, your mood remained tainted. You smiled, dined, and even danced a little post-dinner but the entire time you were spiraling inside.

When it came time for the dishes, Dieter volunteered to do them with you. You had a few things washed when he turned the water off and gently grabbed your shoulders.

“Hey, where’d you go tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t here. You were here - but not here.”

“I’m fine,” you started to turn away, but he held you there,

“Come on baby, what is it?”

You tried your best to avoid headlines and gossip, but every once in a while, one got to you, and tonight it did. You sighed and leaned against the sink.

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?” he moved closer to you, concerned.

“-” you start and stop a few times, not knowing what to say, then finally spit out, “Scarlett Rose - “

At the sound of her name, Dieter sighed and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Don’t let that get to you. It’s bullshit. Drama.”

“In the photos, you just look so…”

Dieter grabbed your hand and led you to the table. Once you both seated, he looked you in the eye as he held your hands. “This is on me. I should've - I was so busy, then you got busy too. I didn’t push for anything definitive because I was worried.”

“About?”

“If you’d want to wait around for me that much, there may be times you don’t see me for half a year. It’s not easy."

“I know.”

“My past, my reputation. I was scared you’d lose interest after a while.”

“That’s crazy, it’s you, how could I ever get bored?”

“There’s that smile,” he kissed your forehead, “let me be clear then. I’m off the market. There’s this sexy as fuck super smart astronomer -”

Your smile widened as relief washed over you.

Dieter grew more animated as he talked, “She’s amazing! That’s where my heart is. Not some actress - you hear me.”

“Yes,”

“I’m crazy about you, just you. Do you have any idea how much I look forward to seeing you?” he kissed your lips.

“Thank you, “you kissed him back, “that astronomer you speak of happens to be crazy about you too.”

Dieter took a deep breath while admiring you, “Let’s make it official. You and me.”

“I’d like that.”

“Me too,” he wrapped you in his arms, “I'm sorry, I should have asked earlier.”

“You asked now, this is still special.”

Dieter pulled back from the hug first, your name soft on his lips, “I love you.”

Relief and joy washed over you, “I love you too Dieter.”

The year flew by, and soon it was November.

Busy with your book and work, you didn't get to fly out to LA as much as you wanted to. Dieter was also away filming. How little you saw each other was difficult but you made the best of it. As the days got closer to December you were filled with glee. You already thought the holidays were special, now Dieter gave them extra meaning.

When a lull in your schedule came, you spent it at home and decided to do some deep cleaning. You were in the middle of that when Dieter called. Turning the music down, you answered the phone,

“I'm outside.”

“Really?” you lit up as you looked out the window to see him waving at you.

At this point, you haven't seen each other in months and missed him dearly. Happily, you rushed to the door and let him in. Jumping into his arms, you greeted each other with a hug and kiss.

“I missed you,” he whispered against your skin. “I know this song, we did this together.”

“I know, memories and all.” You grabbed your phone and showed it to him. It’s a playlist with his photo as the background titled ‘Kiss me under the mistletoe. “I know, it’s a little cheesy but it started with songs from the night, now I add any song that makes me think of you.”

“You are adorable. “Excitedly, Dieter pulled up his phone and followed the playlist. Once that was done, he took a pouch out of his hand. "I have something for you.”

“A visit and a gift, lucky me.”

With one arm around you, he presented the pouch with the other. You opened the bag and pulled out a set of keys.

“So, you can come to Sherman Oaks anytime you want even if I’m not there.”

“Dieter-” you hold them up with a smile.

“I know we can’t move in together, technically - full time - your life and career are here, mine is in LA and wherever the work takes me. But, we can have a home base, together.”

Feeling giddy, you rushed him with a kiss. “I gotta make you a set of keys then, two home bases are better than one.”

As you savor being in his arms, you think about the future. You and Dieter's relationship included lots of travel back and forth and one day it would be nice to be in the same place.

Only part of your job at the Planetarium was on site, you wonder, if you get your job fully remote, maybe you could move out there temporarily? It was an idea with entering, especially as you and Dieter got more serious as time went on.

You didn’t plan it this way, a book tour lining up with the holidays but here you were.

After publishing your sci-fi book (eight years in the making) in the spring, it was slow going, the sales and coverage you hoped for weren't there. Then something happened over the summer and fall, and your book took like wildfire.

Due to some issues, your last date, which was supposed to be days ago, got delayed, which is why you were in another city days before Christmas, and not at home LA with Dieter. To be fair, his schedule got crazy last minute too, and he just made it back a day ago.

You lovingly planned a whole holiday week together, a plan then had to abandon. It put you in a down mood and all you wanted was to be cozied up with him, not in some hotel room.

Dieter: “It's okay baby, we’ll see each other tomorrow.”

You: “I know I just - I had the perfect week planned and we didn’t get to do any of it.”

Dieter: “I have you, that's all I need. Fuck the rest of it.”

Later that night, as you prepared for bed, you got a text from Dieter with a link. You settled in, set two alarms for your flight then watched the video.

Interviewer: We’re on set and behind the scenes with Dieter Bravo! Okay, first question and no cheating, what are the last two artists you listened to?”

On the screen, Dieter was in his usual comfortable attire and wearing sunglasses.

Dieter: Easy. Snoop Dog, Fleetwood Mac.

Interview: Wow, what a fun mix!

Dieter: It’s my lady’s playlist, good stuff.

Dieter lowered his shades and winked at the camera, and you knew, no matter what other fans were watching and losing their shit, that wink was solely for you. He even tapped his arm where your bracelet lived before the interview continued.

‘We are beginning our descent into Los Angeles-’

The overhead announcement pulled you from your light sleep. A light tingling sensation washed over you, followed by the urge to smile. This happened every time you landed in LA to see Dieter. Time was on your mind as well, today marked one year since you met. The night you met often replayed in your mind like a movie, even 12 months out, it was still hard to believe.

Off the plane now, you moved through the airport, each step getting you closer and closer to your love as anticipation buzzed within you. Dieter always sent the same car and driver, so you went to pick-ups and looked for a familiar face. You’re only down there for a few minutes when you see him holding a sign scribbled with hearts, in the middle was the nickname for you, ‘Cosmo’.

“I cannot handle how cute you are!” You hurried your steps as he ran toward you.

As you went in for a kiss, Dieter pulled a mistletoe from his pocket and held it over your head.

“It’s tradition now. Happy anniversary!”

“Happy anniversary,” you echoed before kissing him.

This past fall, you and Dieter talked about an anniversary date. You met on Christmas Eve and started to see each other casually after that. But you didn’t make it official until the

springtime. When Dieter said time was just a man-made thing and you didn’t have to adhere to it, you both decided to make Christmas Eve your official anniversary date.

As soon as you arrived at the house, Dieter asked you to close your eyes and led you to the living room.

“I never have time to have a tree. The one time I did, I didn’t decorate it, it just sat there naked. I was upstairs painting and smoking a joint then I thought, do trees get cold? And I put a robe on it.”

You laughed, “Of course you would.”

Dieter guided you into place, resting his hands on your hips. “Don’t worry, I used real decorations this year. Only the best for my love - open your eyes in 3-2-1.”

You gasped as you moved close to the tree. “Dieter!”

“I stayed up all night to get it right -” he watched as you checked out the ornaments and lights, “I might have got too obsessed with getting it right,” he started counting on his fingers, “you should have seen it. I had Pinterest boards, watched videos, took a screenshot of the tree in your favorite Christmas movie…”

“It’s perfect!”

It was the tree of your dreams, every detail from the ornaments, the color of the lights, the height.

You look back, finding him smiling at you. “I know we were supposed to do it together.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he hugged you from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. "A little sleep deprivation is a small price to pay for that look in your eyes. That’s what I wanted to see.”

“I love you so much.”

He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, “I love you too.”

After a long eventful day, you and Dieter lay in bed warm and cozy, cuddling as moonlight streamed through the windows casting its silvery rays across your faces. Sleep called, its lullaby pleasing to your ears, but no match for the sweet trail of kisses Dieter planted on your shoulder.

“I read your book again on my flight last week.”

“You did?” you smiled feeling peaceful.

“Question,” he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing your book. He flipped to a specific page and pointed at it. “This sex scene, was this inspired by that night after the concert?”

“In New York? When you were absolutely feral? Yes, rewrote the original scene. What can I say, you were my muse.”

“I knew it!” He threw his hands in the air. “Wait! The hair, the way he speaks - was he inspired by the space movie I didyears ago?” Dieter's eyes flew open wide.

You pressed your finger to your lips, “If you don’t tell, I won't.”

“This was so fucking hot baby.”

“Have access to a sci-fi movie set where we can role-play?” you asked suggestively.

“I would do this in a heartbeat.”

You sat up and scooted closer to him. “Sometimes I still pinch myself to make sure this is real,” you confess happily.

Dieter had a response ready but found himself tongue-tied as he looked into your eyes; you took his breath away, and he knew you still would when you were both old and grey. Slowly, Dieter tilted his head and moved in for a kiss.

In each other's embrace, you stay here a while; in this space of love and warmth, trust and safety; home. Your hearts beating as one, drums in unison. Every brush of the lips, every caress, every pang of desire further deepening the bond between you.

Dieter pulled you beneath him on the bed, teasing his lips against yours as you wrapped your legs around him.

“You're not the only one with a present we need to wait for.”

“Is that so?” Earlier in the evening as you exchanged gifts, you told him you had one more. It was something you were working hard at and hoped to present him with tonight but it wasn’t ready.

“Mmmhmm. We gotta go to a place to see it. Road trip in a few days?”

“I’d love that,” you replied while playing with his hair.

Dieter took you on a short road trip, it was filled with sightseeing and off-the-beaten-track stops. You already had so much fun by the time you reached the destination you didn’t know what to expect, or how he would top it all.

The observatory was amazing. Dieter loved watching you geek out as you took it all in. He gave you plenty of space to explore before guiding you to your gift.

“Ooh a telescope?”

He spoke off to the side with the guide who then put it in a specific position.

“Sweetheart, I want you to look through this and tell me what you see.

“Okay,” the little kid in yours was so giddy from this whole trip. You loved any excuse to look at the stars. Once you settled in, you noticed the telescope was zoomed in as close as

possible with a star in the center.

“Wanna know her name?” Dieter kneeled beside you, softly whispering your name in your ear.

“No way!” you looked at him with a wide smile and tears in the corner of your eyes.

He nodded enthusiastically, “way.”

“I’m a fucking star in the galaxy!”

“Thank you for an amazing year baby, and so many more to come.”

Overwhelmed with joy, you jump into his arms. The two of you fall backward as you kiss.

2024

You were nearly shaking with anticipation as the day came. You had breakfast, spent some time at the Met, and then finally took Dieter to his present. No matter how much he tried to get details out of you, you didn’t cave. But when you arrived at the address, his eyes flew open in surprise.

“No fucking way-” he grabbed your arm, “baby?”

“Yes.”

“How?!”

“I have my connections too. I may not be a famous movie star, but it turns out 6 degrees of separation can really be helpful.” you pointed to the tattoo artist's name, “turns out his father used to be an Astronomy professor and knew my boss.”

“This is the best present ever!” Dieter jumped up and down, then pulled you into a big hug.

He had a few tattoos, all small. He had a bigger piece in mind, there was only one guy he wanted to do it. A man who was booked years out, even for Hollywood stars, and worked all over the world. He was rarely ever at his NY studio these days. Dieter hoped to work with him but didn’t know if it would ever really happen - until you.

“You worked your magic baby, amazing!” he gave you a big kiss and then rushed inside, pulling you along behind him.

Life with Dieter was exciting, funny, sensual, and at times frustrating. You knew who he was, and what his life was like. So going in you had some context, but being his girlfriend and living it real time was a wild ride. Still, you and Dieter’s love deepened with each day.

This fairy tale turned reality was still strange, and you were thankful for every second of it, even the upsetting parts but this was still your reality - you were the woman who captured his heart. Dieter wasn’t shy about his romance or how in love he was. He was super protective of you, while also letting the world know yes, he was taken, happily.

“I’m a very lucky man, and yes, I’m in love. She’s fucking amazing.” He said in one interview.

He didn’t like paparazzi getting close to you and wasn’t shy about telling reporters and others to mind their business and give you space. He even took you to events, which was wild the first time, it was a trip and felt like a dream - you still have the photo taken of you two on the red carpet on your photo wall. He looked so happy, smiling as he buried his face in your hair; all the flashing lights and big names, and all he saw was you.

As the year moved along, there were still long periods where you didn’t see each other, and at times, you missed him so much it hurt. But you always knew you'd reunite, and it made the reunions so much sweeter. As for your living situation, it was kind of all over, your place, his place, and everything in between. Though you were making the best of it, it was getting a little exhausting at times. You knew some changes may be needed, possibly sooner than later, but you were also anxious about upsetting the wacky balance that was your lives together.

Now, three weeks before Christmas, you made your way to LA. You’d stay for two months this time, and we're looking forward to it. After a busy shoot, Dieter had four weeks of vacation coming up and was looking forward to spending every second of it with you.

But your reunion had to wait just a little longer. You’d spend these first two weeks alone, decorating the house, getting the tree up, and writing. You had an idea for your third book and the words were flying, wanting to ride the inspiration wave, you decided to spend the time before his arrival getting as much work done as possible, then nothing but relaxing once he arrived. Unlike last year, you were the one arriving early while Dieter would be late. He hoped to return from the UK by Christmas Eve, and then you’d start your vacation

together.

After landing, you rented a car and headed to his house. Upon approaching, your jaw dropped, the house was decked out, with lights, Santa, snowmen, and elves - all of it and you couldn't help but laugh because there was just so much of everything, like Dieter decorated in one of his manic states.

“Oh Dieter,” you laughed, imagining him frantically decorating before flying out. He must have done this to give you more time to write.

Once inside the house, you dropped off your bags by the door then followed the sound of music to the living room. Was one of his assistants here? The occasional house staff? You were happy to do things on your own, so when you visited you didn’t need extra hands around.

Half expecting to see the part-time butler or one of his assistants, you turned the corner and entered the living room.

“Oh my god-”

You raised your hands to your mouth, taking in the gorgeous Christmas tree. Dieter was currently on a ladder, adding a star on the top.

“Surprise!” He said with a big smile.

“‘What are you doing here?”

“That's kind of how surprises work baby, you don’t tell the person - “

“Smartass,” you made your way to him as he climbed down. His pockets were stuffed with ornaments, and he had a row of lights round his neck. “You look like a Christmas tree.”

“Two for one- “he grinned then dug a mistletoe from his pocket,

“Gladly,” you sing, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you kiss him.

Dieter stopped in the doorway as you typed at your computer, your fingers moving quickly as the words left you at lightning speed. He loved watching you work, loved watching you do anything really. And he was more than happy to turn this room into your writing sanctuary, it was filled with excess canvases and this house was always too big for him, well - until you got here, only then did it really start to feel like home.

Leaving you to it, he stepped away quietly and returned to the kitchen to unbag the groceries. It’s been three days since you arrived, three blissful days, days he dreamed of on his long nights and early mornings on set.

He was happy, over the moon really but he was also so damn nervous his stomach was in knots. This was going well, better than he expected, better than he ever maintained any other relationship before.

The truth was, he fell in love with you that very first night. You had his heart, then and there. And he spent a bunch of time afraid he’d fuck it up, so he convinced himself it was good - being so busy - he couldn't fuck things up that way. He was thankful he came to his senses and made it official that night at your place, he deserved this, you were meant to be together.

After dinner, you cleared up the kitchen then snuggled on the couch to watch one of your favorite holiday movies. As the movie went on, you noticed Dieter was distracted, in fact, he had been during all of dinner.

“Hey,” you turned the movie off, “you, okay?”

He cleared his throat as he looked at you, clearly nervous.

“Dieter,”

You took his hand in yours, worried about what it could be. He did just film with an old party buddy and fellow actor of his, was this related to that? Was he feeling tempted? Whatever it was, you’d support him and help him through it.

He ran his hands through his hair once, then a second time, and took a deep breath.

“Okay, I am officially very worried. Talk to me.”

“I think a kiss will make me feel better.”

“I’ll give you all the kisses you want,” after the kiss, you wrapped your arms around him while holding eye contact. “Talk to me.”

He wet his lips, then closed his eyes. You can do this. Don’t be a chicken shit. Just ask!

When he opened his eyes again, they were soft and full of love. He held your face in his hands,

“You're the love of my life. My soulmate. I knew it the moment I saw you. Marry me?”

“Yes, I'll marry you!”

There were no awkward pauses, no hesitation, this was 100% a yes and you could feel your soul dancing. Dieter was your other half, the missing puzzle piece you didn't even know you needed. Happy as a puppy, Dieter littered your face with kisses.

“Oh shit, the ring, wait -"he got it out of his pocket and down on one knee, “let me do this right.”

Before you could tell him, his way was perfect, he proceeded, the sound of your name was like poetry on his tongue,

“Will you marry me?”

You kneeled too, “of course, I’ll marry you - as long as there’s chilled Kit Kats and karaoke.”

Dieter laughed and placed the ring on your finger. “You’re fucking amazing.”

You stared at your hand, happy tears falling down your cheeks. “Holy shit! Mrs. Bravo!"

He smiled softly, admiring you while caressing the length of your arm. “Dreams do come true my love.”

“Damn right they do,” you took one more look at the ring, then at him, savoring the look in his eyes, “Mrs. Bravo?!"

“Mrs. Bravo.” He repeated as he pressed his lips to yours.

As an exception I posted this in full. I no longer post full work on tumblr, just on A03. 💜Arte

✨Previous Secret Santas: one, two

✨My Pedro character masterlist

✨Masterlist

More moodboards below

#AHHHHHHH OMG OMG AHHHH I LOVE HIM I LOVE THIS I LOVE EVERYTHING ABOUT THIS OMG AHHHH #thank you thank you thank you #a million times #kiss me under the mistletoe #dieter bravo #<- I’d kiss him anywhere he wanted #pedrostoriesgift24 #dieter bravo x f reader #artemiseamoon #this was such a TREAT!#🥹🥰🥹🥰🥹🥰

38 notes · View notes