#yous got me!!!! yous got me good!!! bravo!!!!

[little-mrs-morales]

Trash TV

Dieter Bravo x Personal Assistant Reader

The hotel room buzzed with an awkward quiet, broken only by the faint sounds of the city beyond the thick glass windows. Dieter Bravo sat slouched on the edge of the bed, his hoodie bunched around his hunched shoulders, the fabric stretched tight between his restless fingers. His usual dramatic bravado was gone, replaced by a kind of nervous vulnerability you hadn’t seen before. Maybe it was because he’d never stayed sober this long. Or maybe it was because he’d never been in a relationship that wasn’t driven by his money.

You sat across from him, legs tucked beneath you on the armchair, a hotel robe loosely draped over your frame. This was your first Christmas as not just his personal assistant but also *kind of* his girlfriend. You hadn’t put a label on your relationship, but he’d stayed sober for you and become surprisingly faithful. You never thought you’d see Dieter Bravo clueless about someone flirting with him—yet when the receptionist tried, he brushed her off, saying he couldn’t wait to see the gifts his lady got him. That’s what you were to him: his keeper, his lady, the one who sorted out his messes but also the one he knew he couldn’t survive without. He wanted you in every aspect of his life, even if it meant staying sober.  

It had been an easy night until now—room service, bad movies, and his running commentary punctuating every ridiculous scene with remarks about how he’d do better. But something had shifted—a shadow crossing his face during a rare quiet moment. And now you were here, trying to figure out what he’d never say aloud unless it forced its way out.

“I’m not lovable,” Dieter said suddenly, his voice heavy with self-hate. The words fell like stones into the quiet, echoing through you.

You blinked, caught off guard by the rawness in his voice. “What?”

He didn’t look at you. Instead, he focused on the frayed edge of his hoodie, tugging at a loose thread. “I’m fun for a little while,” he said, the corner of his mouth twisting into a bitter smile. “But there’s too much under the surface. It’s more than anyone should have to deal with.” He let out a laugh that sounded painful. “I’m like trash TV—and that’s ironic because I’m a good actor—you watch it for a while, and it makes you feel better about how normal you are, but it gets annoying if it’s all you watch.”

You stared at him, his words hanging in the air like a unspoken truth. He wasn’t joking, not this time. The usual quips and distractions he threw up to keep everyone at arm’s length were gone, leaving only the jagged edges of his insecurities. He sat there, bracing himself for rejection, like he expected you to agree.

“You really believe that?” you asked, your voice softer than you meant it to be.

“I know it,” he shot back quickly, defensively. His hands stilled, and he finally looked up at you. His dark eyes were wide, vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache.

“I’ve been through this enough to know how it ends.”

“How does it end?” you pressed, leaning forward.

“With me fucking it up,” he said, his voice breaking just enough to betray him. “With you realizing I’m...” He exhaled sharply, dragging his hands through his unruly hair. “I don’t know. Too much? Too broken? Take your pick. It always happens eventually. And I’m gonna end up shattered, restless, and totally done with myself.”

The weight of his confession was suffocating, but not for the reasons he feared. It wasn’t disappointment or regret that sat heavy in your chest—it was the sheer force of wanting to prove him wrong. You stood, padding over to the bed and sitting down next to him. He tensed at first, but he didn’t pull away.

“Dieter,” you said, your voice steady. He turned his head slightly, just enough to look at you from the corner of his eye. “You’re not trash TV. You’re far from it.”

He scoffed, but you cut him off before he could deflect. “I’m serious. You’re messy, complicated, and frustrating as hell sometimes. But you’re also funny, smart, and... God, so kind when you let yourself be. You care more than you think you're allowed to, and it scares you.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt. You took it as permission to keep going.

“You’re not some temporary distraction or someone to put up with. You’re just... you. And yeah, maybe you’re a lot, but I’d rather have all of you than none. You don’t have to be perfect to be worth loving.”

His breath hitched, and you swore you saw the faintest sheen of tears in his eyes. He dropped his gaze, his hands wringing together in his lap. “You don’t get it,” he muttered. “You don’t know everything yet. You know more than most, but there are still things…” He knocked on his head. “…things that would scare you away.”  

“Then let me see,” you said. “Stop deciding for me what I can handle. Give me the chance to decide for myself. And I’ll show you I can handle all of you.”  

He looked at you then, really looked at you, like he was searching for the catch, the lie, the flaw in your words. When he didn’t find it, his shoulders sagged, some of the tension bleeding out of him.

“You make it sound easy,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s not,” you admitted. “But nothing worth it ever is.”

Dieter let out a shaky laugh, rubbing a hand over his face. “You’re either insane or... I don’t know. Insane seems more likely.”  

“Probably,” you teased gently. “But that’s why we fit. We’re both insane. A good match, I’d call it.” You nudged his shoulder with yours. “You’re insane for putting up with me. For bringing me my pretty pickles when I’m on my period, or buying my crazy stationery when I’m in a creative mood.” 

He huffed a small laugh, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips. It wasn’t much, but it was a start.  

You stayed close, giving him space to process in his own time. He didn’t say anything more, but the way he leaned into you spoke volumes. There was still a long way to go, but at least he wasn’t alone in it anymore.

He was quiet for a while, his breathing calming, his hand finally still in his lap. Then he shifted slightly, turning toward you. When his eyes met yours again, there was something different—a hint of determination under the vulnerability.

“You really think I’m worth it?” he asked, his voice low, almost fragile.

“I don’t think it,” you said softly. “I know it.”

His gaze flicked to your lips for a brief second before returning to your eyes, as if asking for permission. You didn’t hesitate, leaning forward to close the space between you. The kiss started gently, his lips soft and unsure against yours, but soon deepened, filled with a raw desperation and quiet gratitude. His hands cupped your face, trembling but steady, as if afraid to let go. You had shared countless kisses before, but this one felt different—more real, more alive.

When you finally broke apart, your foreheads rested together, breaths mingling in the space between you. Dieter’s eyes were glossy, his expression unreadable for a beat before he whispered, “I think I love you.”

The confession hung in the air, raw and unpolished, but it was everything.

You smiled, your hands resting on his wrists. “Good,” you murmured. “Because I love you too.”

A shaky laugh escaped him, and he pulled you into a tight embrace, his face buried in the crook of your neck. For the first time, it felt like he wasn’t holding anything back. And for the first time, you knew he believed he didn’t have to.

Writing Prompt #2916

"I'm not lovable. Not in the long term. I know that."

"What?"

"I'm fun for a little bit, but there's too much when you dig down. It's more than anyone else should have to handle. I'm like trash TV—you put it on for a little bit and it makes you feel better about how normal you seem but grating if it's all you watch."

[desired-misery]

Piers is standing there to meet him, half-blocking the way to where Leon is—

“I can do it, Chris—”

“No, I will.”

Piers’ frown is unsteady. He has had less practice than Chris has; Chris won't make him to spare his own feelings. But when Chris steps past, Piers follows. A few strides behind, but still he follows. Chris does not have it in him to tell Piers not to.

It is part of the job. That's how it is. Eventually, something is going to take you out—

And classic Leon, not going down without a fight. Chris should expect nothing less. He counts seven BOWs in the hallway leading up to where Jacob is standing with two others from Bravo. They are in a rough semi-circle facing the body slumped against the wall, wedged against a beat up locker. Chris has to step over three more BOWs piled at the body's feet—

Chris hears his breath catch in his chest despite trying to prepare for it, for seeing familiar dirty blond bangs obscuring Leon’s face. His head is tilted down, knees to his chest, one arm in his lap. He is wearing dark clothes— nondescript combat gear, rare for Leon. All the good that did him.

“Damn it,” Chris breathes. As he kneels, he taps his earpiece to switch back to Hunnigan’s line. Kneeling doesn't give him much better view of Leon’s face, but that's him. Dried blood covering his chin, from—

Fucking christ, there is something sticking out of his chest— body armor, Leon was even wearing body armor this time and it still didn’t save him. Dark, patterned. Knife handle. BOWs don't use knives—

“Poor bastard got stabbed. Still went down swinging,” Jacob says, somber and reverent.

“Captain?” Hunnigan prompts in Chris’ silence.

“... we found him, Hunnigan. He— he didn't make it.”

Her silence only lasts a few seconds.

“You checked for a pulse?”

Chris takes a breath. “No, he's—”

“Check.”

Chris winces. “Hunnigan, he won't—”

“Confirm for me, Captain Redfield.” Her voice is flat but still strong. Better than what Chris can manage right now.

It must be standard operating procedure for her. Chris swallows. “Yes, ma’am.”

He pulls off one of his gloves, scanning over Leon’s body again. No other major injuries he can see. Other than the knife to the chest. It is a little left of center— when did someone have time to stab him in the middle of all of these BOWs? Unless Leon had been stabbed earlier and it took a while to bleed out. God, what a way to go.

Still, Chris is very glad he isn't infected. It is not a fate he wishes upon anyone. Taking another steadying breath, Chris presses two fingers to Leon’s neck.

Leon twitches. His hand jerks—

And Leon’s bloody handgun, drawn from his lap, presses into Chris’ throat as the trigger is squeezed by a red-stained finger.

[feng-shui71]

soo since i love your content i wanna ask more ask's muhahaha>:D in all seriousness, how is Jordan's relationship with Chris (or the other S.T.A.R.S members in that case) like i figured that Chris wont be glad after finding out his traitor of an captain is married to his friend/comrade

Ohhh!!! I love asks like these yes yes

Formatted in headcanons because I didn’t feel like writing paragraphs, just thinking of it is giving me a headache. Includes every single S.T.A.R.S. member from Alpha and Bravo team, the rest is under the cut. The lesser known members don’t have a lot of information though and some of them are a bit short because I didn’t know what else to write.

ALPHA TEAM

Albert Wesker:

Not going to put much on these two and their dynamic since I can’t shut the fuck up about them but I’ll drop a few S.T.A.R.S. era tidbits.

Married, however nobody on the force knows except for Irons, Barry and Jordan’s twin, Jaiden. Irons is their employer so he’s obligated to know, and he’s not stupid he could see it. However with Barry, Jordan accidentally let it slip one time and had to make that man swear to secrecy. He regularly teases the two about it.

Guy does NOT play favourites at all which pisses Jordan off. He’s actually way harder on her than the rest of S.T.A.R.S. and expects the best from her, god forbid she hands in a report past the deadline because he’s going to be very pissed. Very firm believer in keeping work and personal life seperate.

When he’s stressed he likes to call her into his office, blinds shut and sunglasses taken off as he holds her. Face buried in the crook of her neck to try to ease the aching migraine that seeningly never goes away. Probably because you got 2 jobs bro.

Speaking of his office they fuck in there all the time sorry

Wesker initially never intended to harm Jordan during the mansion incident and originally was going to try to keep her away from his plans until they were carried out, taking her with him. This obviously failed and Jordan caught onto his true nature because of that one Umbrella researchers photo, confronting him in his lab. Chris was supposed to see those, to confront him, not her. It was foolish of him to bring her. To improvise, he shot her instead and was planning to bring her body with him, infecting her with Progenitor to ensure her safety + turn her into a superhuman like him. Unfortunately the surviving S.T.A.R.S. crew brought her with them so he couldn’t even do that. (Sorry if this bit is wonky, I’m still working on their Re1 lore)

Friendship scale is womp womp an 8/10. Wesker lies far too much to her and manipulates Jordan regularly, scale is nowhere near a 10/10 because of it. Don't get me wrong they have good chemistry and love eachother but y'neow, it's Wesker. No relationship with him is exempt from being toxic.

Chris Redfield:

They’re pretty close I think, she appreciates Chris’ rebellious spirit and honestly just sees a lot of her younger self in him. Chris thinks she’s cool, like an older sister or “girl next door” type and has no clue why a prude like Wesker is so close with her. Little does he know ..

He definitely pisses her off a ton though LMAO he’s so stupid.

I think sometimes it gets a little awkward because she’s like .. 11 years older than him. So some of the dumb shit he says goes over her head and some of the dumb shit she says makes him cringe a little. They get along nonetheless.

“You like Billie Holiday?”

“.. Oh, yeah, yeah sure I love him!”

“… Dude..”

Wesker ABSOLUTELY despises their relationship and does not like how close Chris is to her. He barely voices it, however a common thing he does is bring up negative things about Chris in hopes to deter her from interacting with him. Yeah, he’s controlling. Jordan does get weirded out if, say for example, he brings up a misogynistic remark that Chris said, but she gets over it after a day.

A lot of common interests, they both love Queen! I like to think that if either of them need a smoke they go to eachother since they’re both avid smokers. Smoked weed on the job one time and Wesker had to hose them both down because the office reeked of Alaskan Thunder Fuck.

I think after the Arklay Incident Chris was suspicious of Jordan because of her affiliation with Wesker however this skepticism dies down after he realizes she was also a victim of Wesker’s plans. (cough.. cough. shot.) Alongside this, Jordan vehemently denied knowing anything regarding Wesker’s double life and shared Chris’ intense feelings of resentment and hatred towards the man after Arklay. Chris is sympathetic of Jordan, she felt used and disgusted with herself considering how long she’d been with him, how much of it all was a lie? she fell in love with a facade, a fake constructed persona, hell, did he even love her? spends a lot of his time comforting her and keeping her company because of it.

This sympathy doesn’t last for long though, after Re4 and especially post-Re5 this guy is so sick of her ass for going back to Wesker time after time, he understands Jordan loves him to the point of it being unconditional, which is why she always runs back to him but come onnnn. Girl if you don’t get your ass back here I will smack the shit out of you. Their relationship is definitely strained at this point, tons of resentment between the two. I cover Chris’ feelings about this in this ask.

You guys got a friend where they have a toxic relationship and always go to you for advice but never listen? you tell them the exact same thing every time but don’t go through with it anyway? Yeah that’s Jordan to Chris. She’s the problem here.

"I miss him"

"Shut the fuck up"

They love eachother though.

Jordan thinks Re8 Chris is cute but you will never get this out of her ever especially since she feels guilty about Wesker’s death still. He is rolling over in that volcano everytime that thought crosses her mind. She will never act on this though, widowed Jordan is real.

Friendship scale sat at a 9/10 during Re1. Anything beyond Re4 is extremely strained and sits at a 6/10. Too much resentment.

Jill Valentine:

Uhmmm definitely not as close as Barry and Chris however they are friends, yeah. Her, Jordan and Rebecca stick together at RPD since they’re all women, they try to look out for eachother and talk to one another often. Jordan is definitely close to Jill than she is Rebecca though.

Jordan sees Jill as a bad ass little sister that needs to get her ass whooped sometimes, however Jill doesn’t make Jordan mad to the point of crashing out unlike someone. (Chris) It’s kind of just a mild annoyance like she’ll sigh really heavy if Jill does something stupid.

They definitely gossip a ton though, Jill pulls Jordan aside and rants about whatever is on her mind at the moment, whether it be a guy or something Chris did earlier that day. Literally world’s biggest haters god forbid you wear a terrible outfit around them they are pointing and laughing at you to the point of snorting and wheezing. Brad is a common victim.

She is definitely super sus of Jordan and Wesker and thinks they’re friends with benefits, interrogates Jordan on it regularly and asks her why she’s so close with the Captain. This is a mild accusation though I think Jordan gets flack regularly at the office because of her affiliation with Wesker, a common one is that she “slept to the top hence her position at S.T.A.R.S”

Uhhhmm besides that though I think their friendship is mainly confined to RPD, I don’t think they go out a ton besides the S.T.A.R.S. troupes occasional bar runs. I think either her or Annette would be Jordan’s girl best friends but i’m not sure !

Their friendship is pretty good! I'd say it's around a 7/10

Barry Burton:

These two have the cops from Superbad dynamic. Barry is the Seth Rogan cop and Jordan is the Bill Hader cop. You can't tell me Barry doesn't have the Seth Rogan laugh because he does I mean just look at him. (Jackie and Jordan have this exact same dynamic too)

Cue these two doing donuts in an empty parking lot in their cruiser.

God forbid you catch either of them hungry I think both of them could clear a buffet in like 30 mins tops and they would still be starving. Barry brought her a whole rack of ribs one time while he was barbecuing and it moved her to tears. These two are fat as hell sorry.

Speaking of food I think Barry invites her and their family over when he’s throwing anything, Wesker would rather not but Jordan convinces him every single time. Guy just wants to go home but is forced to be social for hours, I think Barry and the rest of the neighborhood dads kidnap him though and keep Wesker with them, he has no idea what to talk about until cars are brought up and he uses the opportunity to brag about the Porsche he splurged on.

Hands down Jordan’s best friend from S.T.A.R.S. (if we aren’t including Jaiden, Wesker or Silna’s OC, Jackie)

Due to their closeless I think their children are close too. Mainly Junior and Moira, both rebellious little shits who resent their fathers, perfect combo.

Friendship scale sits at a 9/10. Practically family.

Joseph Frost:

Not as close as Jaiden is to him but yeah they’re cool I think.

Honestly I think the Forest, Chris and Joseph trio are all cool with Jordan and Jaiden since all of them are mischievous shitheads who like to cause trouble and have fun while on the job. Jordan doesn’t really join them as often as Jaiden does though. Irons HATES all of them with a passion

“Are you wearing a durag?”

“???? No???”

I think if they got into an argument it’d be the worst thing ever to deal with, both Joseph and Jordan are crashouts due to their temper so they’d 100% be at eachothers throats trying to kill each other. Joseph throws a paper airplane at Jordan’s head, Jordan retaliates by picking up one of the tables in the breakroom and hurling it at the poor guy’s head. Fortunately, Jordan has Wesker to ground her so this doesn’t happen a lot.

Also another reason as to why they never really fought is because they both have that very chipper, humorous and optimistic attitude.

I remember seeing somewhere that his nickname was “Frosty”, I like to think it’s because both Jordan and Joseph’s nicknames were “Joe” within the team so to avoid confusion, Joseph was coined the nickname “Frosty” and Jordan was “Jords”.

6/10 friendship, they're cool with eachother but she flocks more towards the other S.T.A.R.S. members.

Brad Vickers:

Mannnn he is the Family Guy Meg of the friendgroup god bless his soul Jordan thinks it’s funny to make fun of him LMAO

I think she’s like.. okay with him but I don’t think they’re friends, more of acquaintances if anything. Some of the shit he says pisses her off and honestly I don't think he's too fond of her either, she's mean.

I think she’s wayyy more nicer to him than Jaiden is though this guy is a fucking bully. Brad catches strays in every single argument.

Jaiden: “Bro I’m literally prime Michael Jordan like 91 MJ.”

Jordan: “Nah you’re more like Celtics Shaq”

Jaiden: “Shut up, not even, but you know who is? Brad.”

Brad: “Oh…”

Poor guy gets peer pressured to do shit. Like hey Brad!! go lick that pile of white dog shit. Or like hey Brad !! eat this handful of 300 mg edibles that’ll leave you seeing demons. This guy is always like what.. why me ??? until money is mentioned and he jumps on the opportunity. Easy 60 dollars.

The making fun of Brad jokes have to be funny though otherwise Jordan is just going to stare at you

Like there’s a point.

She respects the fact that he works such a profession with an attitude like his, the fact that he can overcome his cowardice in order to pull a job off. Not a lot of people can do that.

Friendship sits at like a 5/10, poor guy just wants to live in peace.

BRAVO TEAM

Enrico Marini:

Another guy who’s super sus of Wesker and Jordan’s relationship. Like his feelings towards Chris and Barry, I think he was scared that she’d take his position as second in command as well. One of the few guys that conspired that Jordan “slept her way into S.T.A.R.S.”

Besides that though I think they’re on good terms. They’re acquaintances at most I feel, really the only thing that keeps them together is the fact that they’re both close friends with Barry and are part of the same team.

Okay so I think this guy is half Hispanic (Maybe Ecuador) and half Italian, hence the Marini last name. Just wanted to throw that out there sorry he is not white he has a little bit of spice.

I think they spar often when Wesker isn’t in the office, gee I wonder where he went.

Again, this is another individual where Jaiden would be closer to them rather than Jordan, they mainly just coexist. I like to think Jaiden is Enrico's right hand man and helps keep Enrico's attitude optimistic in such a profession, nobody has a clue as to how Enrico is so patient with this guy.

Friendship scale sits at a 3, their friendship is strictly professional however they're on good terms, he just gets uhh, envious.

Rebecca Chambers:

Oh my sweet baby Rebecca I love you

Definitely calls her “Bex” or “Becca” as nicknames.

They're both basketball lovers so they definitely play every so often, I like to think when they take their 15, these two, Jaiden, and a few other S.T.A.R.S. members join them for a few games of ball. Rebecca is capable of some nasty crossovers, absolute demon on the court.

Jaiden accidentally posterized her so bad to where she fell face first once and the entire team was fuming at him LMAO sorry he will not pass up on the opportunity to flex. Other than that he's like an uncle to her.

Similar to Jaiden, Jordan assumes a motherly role towards Rebecca and feels inclined to look after her, especially since she's so young and naive, she knows people like to take advantage of girls like that, the world is corrupt and she'd rather not have Rebeca be affected by it. Jordan knows how it feels to be creeped on and it's disgusting, if Rebecca was ever a victim to that Jordan wouldn't be able to forgive herself.

Before Alpha Team was dispatched to investigate the Spencer Mansion, I think Jordan was terrified that something would happen to her specifically (Besides worrying about Jaiden), Jaiden and the rest of Bravo are more than capable of protecting themselves, however Rebecca is a medic with not a lot of combat experience, hence her concern.

Friendship scale is at a 6/10! I'd say they're friends yes but not that close.

Richard Aiken:

Again, another guy she's acquintances with at most.

She thinks he's really sweet though, pretty nice guy. Very appreciative of how protective he is over Rebecca as well, we all love Becca here.

Felt really bad for his girlfriend, Bridgette, after his death. Jordan thought their relationship was really sweet and super cute, seeing another woman so heartbroken over their lovers death made her feel worse.

Friendship scale sits at a 3/10, she doesn't really know him but they do have mutual respect.

Edward Dewey:

Okay there's not a lot known about this guy in general so this'll be short.

Jordan calls him "Speddie Eddie" she thinks it's funny LMAO

Since dance is a hobby they both share I think they like to indulge in it their spare-time, I can see this big guy b-boying, yeah. It's not a thing that's done often though.

She thinks he's very sweet! nicest member on S.T.A.R.S. by far, I think he was the first person on Bravo team she befriended because of it.

Friendship is 5/10. Sweet guy, but he's just an acquaintance.

Forest Speyer:

This fucking guy

Out of all her homeboys he pisses her off the most by far but I think besides Chris and Barry, Forest's one of her favourites. I like to think he's the worst out of the Chris, Joseph and Forest trio I mean just look at him.

This guy is sooo fucking cocky oh my god, they hangout at the shooting range pretty often because that's literally the only thing Forest is willing to do because he's so good at it. Rubs it in Jordan's face everytime, pretty sizeable ratio going 34-20.

She has to call Chris over to humble him every single time

Him and Jaiden's combined ego is horrible they are both extremely insufferable.

I have a feeling this guy is extremely funny though, like snorting and wheezing levels, humour is a characteristic that Jordan loves so I think that's what draws these two together. Common interests in general like tattoos, I think they both like Ed Hardy.

Friendship scale is around uhmm probably like a 7-8/10. They're pretty friendly with one another and she thinks his cocky attitude is a bit charming, albeit annoying.

Kenneth J. Sullivan:

Ehhh

Not that close but this guy is cool

He seems really nonchalant I think she'd go to him for advice and wisdom considering he's the oldest S.T.A.R.S. member

Ball-ups with him are insane he will drop the deepest statement/speech ever and then act like everything is normal.

Okay considering Jordan's a Filipino and one of our martial arts is knife fighting (One of his strengths) I think they'd spar together often so she could hone her skill since she's kinda meh at it. Helps her with posture and getting accustomed to the ice-pick grip.

Kind of hard on her, he's a perfectionist.

Friendship scale is like uhmm, a 4/10. They're cool but they wouldn't go out of their way to seek eachother out

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Um hello everyone should read this unhinged unhealthy unrequited godstiel/soulless!sam fic by @sheepsquatches and @rootsmachine it's making me crazy. I'm not even a sastiel girlie it's just good fucking fiction and character exploration.

Some of MANY quotes that made me scream out loud:

Hello.

Hello??

HELLO??!!

Those are only from the first half of 5k words. Read this fic.

[flannelepicurean]

Mmm-hay, returning to this very crucial "Samurai Bravo" issue:

Jack is a little unnerved by sushi restaurants in Johnny's neck of the woods, especially when he finds out that they all serve raw salmon. He is both a little flattered and a little horrified by the whole experience of Johnny taking him to one, and the adventure ends with Jack insisting that Johnny come over so he can make him some real food.

Johnny proves to be incredibly adept with chopsticks. And he's really enthusiastic about how much he enjoys everything. And Jack feels...something? He smiles a lot.

Johnny really butchers his first, "Domo air-a-gatto," but he's sincere. And that first, crisp, "Hey. Kanpai, good buddy," makes Jack swoon a little, for reasons he does not fully understand yet.

Johnny helps with the dishes. He does a lot of dancing during the process. Mostly with his butt, but also his shoulders. Everything comes out sparkling.

At the end of the night, when they part ways, Johnny's like, "Okay, how do you feel about corndogs? 'Cause there's this place down at the beach that's got great curly fries, too..." And Jack's like, "Uh...you...want to keep doing...this?" And Johnny's like, "...Well, yeah. You just made me a crazy awesome dinner, and our first...uhhh...was a bust." [POSE] "This town's got a lot to prove," [POSE], "and I'm gonna show you a good time."

Jack has an absolute attack of the vapors, but maintains his composure. They agree to go to the beach together in the near future.

[earthtooz]

I ain't good at math...

But I'm 2² to lose you 🥺💓

seems like you plus me are meant to be <3 🙈

[hollow-park]

Whee! Finally the morning of the big day! Just waiting for the cake shop to open!

Nice, flower stand opened a whole fifteen minutes early, probably because Kiyoshi is kinda famous and has a good reputation.

And... Cake acquired! What a nice normal outing, now its time to gather the family and has a nice normal wed-

Gary no.... That's not.. He's not.. You're not... Ok we very much do not have time to unpack that right now, so lets stop offering our very soon to be son in law a life of crime and get our selves ready to officiate!

[maxverstappendefender]

won gold // mv1 smau

description: olympic snowboarder!gf x mv1 (max being a complete simp for someone that doesn’t even know him)

a/n: this had me blushing ngl. requests are open at the moment too! or just come talk to me, would love to talk to you all! all pics from pinterest, i don’t own any

masterlist

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 208,571 others

youruser: competing in the olympics deserves a good sleep. thank you all sm for the love and happy to bring home gold

view all comments

olympics: 🥇

user1: GOLD BABYYYY

scottyjames31: proud of you lady

↳ youruser: miss you scotty!

danielricciardo: W for the best snowboarder ever

↳ scottyjames31: 😧

↳ youruser: 😬😬

user2: her beauty should be illegal

↳ user3: and her talent

maxverstappen1: bravo yn!!

maxverstappen1: you’re so pretty wth

↳ danielricciardo: oh brother

↳ landonorris: i second what danny said

↳ charles_leclerc: nurse he’s out again

user4: will max ever stop simping for yn?

↳ user5: most likely not

liked by landonorris, danielricciardo, and 916,837 others

maxverstappen1: snowboarding, sleeping, and winning to finish off the season

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landonorris: this looks quite familiar to a post of someone i know

user6: oh he’s down bad for yn

↳ user7: aren’t we all?

redbullracing: why are we last in this post?

↳ maxverstappen1: more important things

danielricciardo: that picture was taken .2 seconds before you got up and fell on your face

↳ maxverstappen1: that’s a lie

↳ user8: not daniel airing out max’s business

user9: since when has max been a snowboarder

↳ user10: since he started crushing on yn

↳ user11: he’s been simping so hard for ages for her and she doesn’t even know he exists lol

liked by scottyjames31, maxverstappen1, and 319,639 others

youruser: little photo shoot before closing ceremony to the olympics 🖤

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user12: has anyone checked on max verstappen?

↳ maxverstappen1: he’s dead

maxverstappen1: do you need a dog? or a cat? or a fish?

↳ carlossainz55: get up man.

user13: my pulse is gone

user14: had a heart attack and died today

user15: one chance yn, please

maxverstappen1: 🤤🤤

↳ landonorris: what the hell man

liked by maxverstappen1, olympics, and 184,914 others

youruser: after party complete. see you in 4 years @/olympics

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maxverstappen1: FIRST

redbullracing: oh what’s that last slide?

↳ user16: not admin being just as down bad as max is

scottyjames31: no invite?

↳ youruser: you are literally in another continent rn

maxverstappen1: damn, the team i race for is in that last slide. that’s like fate

↳ user17: i need someone obsessed with me the way max is with yn

user18: okay ms olympic gold medalist

// max’s phone //

//

liked by scottyjames31, maxverstappen1, and 218,347 others

youruser: scotty took a spill, someone call life alert

tagged: scottyjames31

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scottyjames31: foul caption

user19: the best snowboarding friendship

maxverstappen1: need a new snowboarding partner?

↳ charles_leclerc: you snowboarding? lol. have the ambulance on speed dial

↳ landonorris: have to agree with charles here mate

↳ carlossainz55: you would need more than life alert if you went snowboarding

↳ redbullracing: admin does not approve of any potential injury sports during this winter break 👍

user20: the day max gets a date with yn is the day the world will be right again

↳ user21: world hunger, poverty, and homelessness would be solved

↳ maxverstappen1: im trying people. can’t rush perfection

liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo, and 216,385 others

youruser: now why is twitter blaming me for world hunger?

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user22: yn could solve world hunger and she chooses not to smh

user23: solve world hunger by going on a date with max verstappen? absolute no brainer

↳ youruser: unfortunately one date will not solve words hunger 👍

↳ maxverstappen1: what about two dates?

landonorris: i’ll pay you to go on a date with someone i know. he’s a little off in the head but he’s insufferable about this crush

↳ danielricciardo: damn, you too?

↳ user24: imagine max talking about yn to his friends and she barely even knows who he is 😂

user25: love a good sunset moment

liked by landonorris, youruser, and 746,913 others

maxverstappen1: twitter doesn’t exist anymore, it’s x now

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user26: YN IN THE LIKES

↳ user27: war is over

danielricciardo: this post looks oddly familiar

↳ landonorris: selfie + sunset + heart on snowboard

↳ youruser: i should sue for copyright

user28: not max copying the entire style of yn’s last instagram post

redbullracing: no INJURY PRONE sports.

↳ user29: the things max does for a crush

user30: not max’s caption relating to yn’s last caption

↳ user31: baby, the entire post is pretty much copy and paste but max’s version

liked by danielricciardo, youruser, and 923,658 others

maxverstappen1: found me a snowboarding girlfriend 🙃 i couldn’t rush perfection

tagged: youruser

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danielricciardo: WOOP WOOP 🎉

↳ landonorris: no more simping!!

user32: OH MY GOD.

user33: when he picks up a whole sport for her 😫

redbullracing: admin does not approve of the sport but approves of the girl

↳ youruser: thanks admin 🫶

user34: max is the definition of never back down

↳ user35: never give up!

user36: he played the long game

↳ maxverstappen1: and won gold

youruser: love my (extremely amateur) snowboarding boyfriend 🫶

liked by youruser, landonorris, and 827,046 others

maxverstappen1: girlfriend appreciation post now that i can talk about her as my girlfriend

tagged: youruser

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youruser: much love bby

redbullracing: okay mr. brand ambassador

user37: is your girlfriend single?

landonorris: i feel sick. why do you have to be in love and happy?

user38: do you need a third?

danielricciardo: everyone say thank you daniel

↳ scottyjames31: no. everyone say thank you scotty

user39: the dates haven’t solved world hunger yet but we’re close, i can feel it!

↳ user40: i love this stupid joke

liked by maxverstappen1, scottyjames31, and 382,156 others

youruser: boyfriend appreciation post. love you dork

tagged: maxverstappen1

redbullracing: welcome to the family yn!

maxverstappen1: ‘boyfriend’ ahsdkejehe

↳ user41: that would be me if yn was my girlfriend too

user42: max’s manifesting actually worked

scottyjames31: cute

user43: WHEN. WILL. IT. BE. MY. TURN.

↳ user44: real.

[ancientgoddessofegypt]

Astro thoughts : short n sweet <3 Jupiters Moment

Jupiter in the 1st - Beneficial factors play a lot with this group. However they have to work harder to get it. It is because their life is based of their beliefs, they have to work to maintain a certain mindset to keep the luck from straying away. Have beautiful spirits and are capable of anything, that is because they chose to walk that path & not by how easy it looks.

Jupiter in the 2nd - Needs peace & stability at all times. Good looking. Money making abilities are stagnant until they learn to grow with their consciousness. Not everything is what it seems, so try to be on the look out for something new and different. Thats when the luck begins. Take a risk, and use your intellect to get what you need.

Jupiter in the 3rd - Needs a lot more quiet time, hermit mode. Have gifts in astrology here. Some may op for a new path every few months or so. It's because their destined to know a lot in this life and go after anything that interests them at the moment. Could be open to trying new relationship tactics and going with the flow much easier. Have a different perspective than most & they dont keep quiet about it for long. Mature presence. Very odd but likeable at the same time.

Jupiter in the 4th - Royal family. Heritage & traditional values are stored in this vessel. Mysteries and traditional secrets from the family bloodline may come out at some time. This is a very special house placement because its so much to explore in a short time.

Have faith in your lineage, you're the one who breaks the code!

Jupiter in the 5th - Creativity flows through these cats like no other. Very special essence and can be well liked by almost anybody. This comes from their talents btw. If you're good at drawing, singing, dancing, acting, etc. You might catch a lot of attention on you at some point. This placement gives me Johnny Bravo energy. like you're capable of getting the girls to like you with just your looks and personality. Just dont get to happy, no body likes a super boastful guy ;)

Jupiter in the 6th - Unique flow when going after what they love. They work the hardest when its something they know is divinely ordered for them to achieve. They don't mean any harm, their just trying to get their needs met. Super optimistic when live seems to be in order and balanced. But when off balanced, it seems as if a fire has striking them and they become the great dragon. Don't stare at them to hard, they'll begin to overthink a lil.

Jupiter in the 7th - My my my, this is what I call a royal placement. Because this gifts an individual with a great sex life. Could be unattainable to say the least. You're not everyone's 'favorite' but your presence is also something that people want to receive. How that work? You have a value to you that keeps you at bay from onlookers that don't have nothing to give, but something to take. Be more weary with the company you keep, you don't know how good you got it, and how special you are.

Jupiter in the 8th - Very deep, raw personas who are captivated by the knowledge they receive in the dream realm. They have a lot of issues very psychologically, and this gets deeper with the maturing of their path. They have a light & dark persona but its given to sustain balance in this life & the after life. They have integrity and morals and most times it is based of tradition. Other times, their really a rebel, and go after everything they came for. Because what's a life to live when you can't live it freely?

Jupiter in the 9th - Free spirits and ultra loving character. Can be a bit of a know it all but thats fine. This house is their rightful home, so a lot of good energy can be bestowed on them from time to time. Great luck. Adventure is something they should seek from all ages of their life. It is good to have someone around when going on many great journeys of the soul. These people could be a friend you never forget.

Jupiter in the 10th - Likeable nature. Their personalities fit that of the audience they are naturally connected to. Very bountiful energy. Could look like they got it all going on, but deep inside you may not know the true darkness they carry. This is a capricorn ruled house, so they tend to battle some challenges here and there. But with great restraint & an amazing mindset to go with it they come back on top, each and every time.

Jupiter in the 11th - Sweet personas and balanced personalities. They could be in a lot of groups and can know a lot of people with just their smile and cool personality. They could end up being in groups where they are teaching something to a large mass of people. Could be very inspiring and open to anyone they meet.

Jupiter in the 12th - They feel things a lot heavier than most would like to believe. They see the world differently than their peers and this could make them the odd ball at times. Their personalities mesh well with artistic individuals because they've mastered the eye of sight. Meaning that their good at understanding things from a point of view only them and God could understand, but that doesn't mean that it can be explained. In other words, they are extremely complex to the human brain, not an individual you can describe. Very spiritual, very contagious energy. Bright speakers and just super angelic.

[solxamber]

Trash Novel Chronicles: Not Another Royal Mess - Azul Ashengrotto x reader

As a proofreader who gets isekai’d into a cringeworthy novel, you decide to take revenge on the heroine and male lead for their awful story. With Azul—who just wanted to sell you a magic rock—pulled into your chaos.

Series Masterlist

You stare blankly at the manuscript in front of you, feeling your soul slowly withering away, shriveling like an overcooked raisin under the weight of yet another tragic tale of misguided villainy. The title alone—The Villainess Who Was Actually Just Trying to Mind Her Own Business and Got Beheaded Anyway—had already set the tone for what you could only describe as a disaster in prose form. How this had slipped through several rounds of quality control was beyond you.

Maybe it was a prank. Maybe it was revenge. You couldn’t tell anymore.

You take a deep breath, a sigh so deep that it feels like it's being dragged up from the depths of your very soul, a sigh that could only be summoned by a story so ridiculous, so absolutely bonkers, that even you—seasoned proofreader extraordinaire—were questioning every life choice that had brought you here.

"Okay," you mutter to yourself, flipping through the pages with all the energy of a reluctant retiree trying to pick up knitting. "Let's see. We’ve got your standard fantasy kingdom where every noble is born with elemental powers. Classic. The saintess is the only one who can wield all four elements. Cool, cool, makes sense." You pause, eyes narrowing. "Except for the villainess who's faking it with a magical rock she bought off of Fantasy Craigslist and just... does all the same stuff the saintess can do without actually, you know, saintess-ing anything bad. Just... being suspiciously good at wind and fire, I guess?"

You squint at the text like it’s personally offended you. "So let me get this straight. The heroine—who, by the way, isn’t the real saintess—finds out about the rock and immediately turns into the nation’s tattletale. Like, she just full-on rats the villainess out to the entire country and gets her beheaded for daring to do an accidental cosplay of a saintess? Seriously?"

You blink. "And the prince? The so-called male lead? He’s not even mad because the villainess was evil or anything. No. He’s mad because she... rejected him? Oh, so that’s the crime. She bruised his precious princely ego, so naturally she deserves to lose her head. Makes perfect sense. Absolutely logical," you deadpan, flipping another page with growing disdain.

“And just when you think it can’t get any dumber,” you continue to mutter, “the heroine uses the exact same magic rock after she gets the villainess killed, struggles to use half the power, but instead of everyone questioning her, they just...” You drag a hand down your face. “They just... pat her on the back for her effort? What? Oh, bravo! Standing ovation! You’re so talented! What a genius!”

You want to scream. You can feel it building up inside you, a primordial rage that no amount of fantasy drivel can suppress. How... how did this get published? How did someone not raise their hand and go, “Hey, maybe the heroine is the real villain here? And maybe the villainess is just really good at rock collecting?”

Your eye twitches.

Then you get to the part where Azul Ashengrotto—a.k.a. the business owner and kingpin of the information and assassination game—gets dragged down in this hot mess of a plot for the crime of selling a magical rock. He’s not even involved in the drama. He just sold a crystal, did his job, and suddenly he’s collateral damage in this ridiculous farce. And beheaded. You slap the manuscript down on your desk, nearly choking on the sheer absurdity of it all.

“He sold a rock!” you yell to no one. “One. Rock! And he loses his head because the heroine doesn’t know how to mind her own damn business! And no one bats an eye?”

You imagine Azul, standing there with a bemused expression as the sword comes down, probably muttering something like, "Well, this is an unfortunate turn of events."

You shake your head, unable to wrap your mind around the sheer audacity of it all. "So, let me get this straight. The heroine kills the villainess out of jealousy and rage, takes the same stone, uses it poorly, and somehow becomes the saintess? And no one questions it? Not even one guy in the back going, ‘Hey, wait a minute...’?"

A laugh escapes you, bitter and incredulous. "I’ve lost all faith in fantasy kingdoms. They deserve what’s coming to them. Honestly, if their idea of justice is to murder anyone with a shiny rock collection, they probably deserve whatever apocalyptic disaster is waiting in book two."

You sit back in your chair, contemplating the many ways you could disappear off the face of the Earth to avoid reading the inevitable sequel. Maybe you could fake your own death? Dramatically crash through a window with a glitter bomb, leaving behind a cryptic note that reads, “Gone to buy a rock, brb.”

But no. You were a professional. You would soldier on.

Then again, if this novel could get published, maybe it was time to start your own writing career. Surely you could cobble together something halfway decent. Maybe a story about a villainess who just wants to live her life and ends up getting murdered by a heroine with a major inferiority complex. Oh wait, that’s literally this garbage fire in front of me.

You sigh again, this one even deeper, more existential than the last, the type of sigh that could bring about world peace if properly harnessed. Your eyes wander from the steaming pile of poorly written drivel, caught somewhere between disbelief and mild homicidal thoughts. You rub your temples, wondering if proofreading was really the best career path for someone who still had shreds of sanity left.

"Maybe I should've been a baker," you mumble to yourself, stretching your arms overhead. "At least bread dough doesn’t hit me with nonsensical plot twists."

As you stand, ready to grab a snack to soothe your wounded soul, you don’t notice the precariously stacked pile of villainess novels towering on the shelf above your desk. The entire collection of "disaster-bound fantasy heroines and their poor life choices" sways ever so slightly as you brush against the table, and then... it happens.

One moment you're contemplating the logistics of moving to a remote island where bad writing can’t reach you, and the next, you hear a spine-chilling creak followed by a horrifying cascade of poorly bound paperbacks. The avalanche of literary mediocrity comes crashing down on you in one tragically comedic sweep.

"Are you kidding me—" is all you manage to choke out before the entire bookshelf’s worth of subpar villainess novels crushes you beneath their illogical weight. And of course, because the universe has a sense of humor, the last book to hit you in the face is titled, "The Villainess Who Tripped and Fell into her Own Grave—Oops!"

As the darkness closes in, your final thought is one of supreme exasperation: I cannot believe I’m being killed by the worst plotlines ever written. Death by plot twist. Too soon, yet not soon enough.

And then nothing. Just silence. Peace, finally.

You’d heard the phrase "no rest for the wicked," but honestly, who knew divine punishment was this over the top? Apparently, you'd racked up enough sins in your previous life to not only die under an avalanche of bad literature but to then be reincarnated into said literature. Because why not? The gods were clearly having a laugh.

When you open your eyes, you're not even phased. Nope. You don’t scream, cry, or panic. You just stare up at the overly ornate ceiling of what is clearly a mansion because, of course, the villainess is always absurdly rich. You're lying in an obnoxiously fluffy bed, and the first thing that pops into your mind is: Are you serious?

A quick glance in the mirror confirms it. There you are, standing in the overly frilly shoes of the villainess from the very same garbage novel that ended your life. Perfect. You take a deep breath, rub your temples (again), and give yourself a mental pep talk. "Okay, you’ve read this before, multiple times. You know the beats. You know the plot. You’ve got this."

Step one: don’t freak out. Because, really, this plot is bad enough without adding your personal panic to the mix. Step two: check the villainess's diary because, obviously, the previous inhabitant was stupid enough to leave all her secrets lying around like a teenager's unlocked Facebook account. Sure enough, you find it: a gloriously leather-bound journal detailing all the times plotted to impersonate the saintess. You roll your eyes. Not today, Satan.

You scan the pages, checking the timeline. You have a few months until the heroine rats you out, which means it’s time for step three: revenge. And no, you don’t mean the "oh, woe is me" type of revenge that makes you spiral into despair. You mean good old-fashioned pettiness, the kind that makes the heroine and the male lead’s lives miserable.

You can't help but snicker at the thought. It's karmic justice, really. They’re going to get a taste of the absolute horror you experienced reading their terrible, nonsensical love story. You spent hours proofreading their idiocy, now it's their turn.

You stand in front of the towering, ominous doors of Azul Ashengrotto’s office at Mostro Lounge, taking a deep breath before pushing them open. The dark, almost theatrical ambiance inside feels like a stage set for the devil himself to offer you a deal. But you’re no saintess—you’re the villainess of this story, and you’re here to strike a deal that’ll flip the entire script on its head.

Azul looks up from his desk, his eyes widening slightly as he takes in your presence. “Ah, My Lady,” he greets smoothly, slipping into that charming, calculating smile of his. “What brings you to my humble establishment? Shouldn't you be busy pretending to be a saintess?"

You roll your eyes and take a seat without waiting for an invitation. "About that... I've decided to cancel my order for the magic stone."

Azul’s expression falters. “Cancel the order? But aren’t you the one planning to impersonate the saintess and secure your place in the royal court?”

You lean back in your chair, a smirk playing on your lips. “Well, plans change. I’ve come to realize that there's a much better way to spend my time and resources—mainly, by humiliating the heroine and the prince for fun.”

Azul blinks at you, the corners of his lips twitching as if he’s not sure whether to laugh or be intrigued. “You... want to humiliate the heroine and the prince?”

You shrug, a gleam of mischief in your eyes. “Why not? They’re gonna be responsible for my end if I impersonate the saintess. I’ve already decided that instead of dying gracefully, I’m going to make their lives miserable. And that’s where you come in.”

Azul folds his hands on his desk, the smile growing on his face. “I see. And what exactly do you expect me to do?”

You pull out a blank cheque, sliding it across his desk. “Whatever you want. My family is wealthy, and my parents will gladly dance upside down on a chandelier if I asked them to. Write any amount you want, but you’re going to help me with my new plan.”

Azul’s eyes flicker with interest as he glances at the cheque. “And what exactly would that plan entail?”

“I want you to sabotage them,” you say simply. “The heroine, the prince—they’re going to suffer public humiliation. Every time they try to play the part of the perfect couple or flaunt their status as the so-called chosen ones, I want you to make sure they fail spectacularly. We’re going to tear apart their reputations piece by piece, and I need your expertise.”

Azul leans back in his chair, tapping a finger to his chin. “That sounds... intriguing. But I do believe I’ll need a bit more than just money to make this worth my time.”

“Name your price,” you reply coolly. “Whatever it is, I can handle it.”

Azul’s smile widens, but it’s sharp. “I’ll take a hefty sum, of course. Let’s say... one hundred thousand gold. But I’ll also require two wishes that I can cash in at any time.”

Your brow arches. “Two wishes? And what exactly do you plan to use them for?”

Azul’s smile turns positively devilish. “Oh, I’m sure I’ll think of something. It could be anything—information, a favor, perhaps something more. Who knows? I just want to keep my options open.”

You weigh the deal for a moment, then nod. “Fine. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. But I want results, Azul. Don’t disappoint me.”

Before he can respond, the door behind you slams open with a bang, and Floyd Leech strolls in, grinning ear to ear like a shark who’s just spotted its next meal. “Heh, you’re funny, Shrimpy,” he says, eyeing you with amusement. “This whole ‘let’s humiliate the prince and his little heroine’ thing? I like it. I’ll help. I wanna see the look on their faces when they get wrecked.”

Azul sighs dramatically. “Floyd, this is a delicate matter. You can’t just go around—”

“Yeah, yeah,” Floyd cuts him off, draping himself across your chair like a lazy cat. “But c’mon, wouldn’t it be more fun if I helped? We can make it real painful for ’em. How 'bout it, Shrimpy?”

You can’t help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. “Honestly? I wouldn’t mind having you on board, Floyd. Your brand of chaos could be exactly what I need to really make them squirm.”

Floyd grins wider, nudging you playfully. “Now we’re talkin’! See, Jade? Shrimpy’s got taste.”

You glance over to where Jade is standing, quietly watching the entire exchange with a serene smile. “I’m not surprised,” he says in his calm, unsettling way. “After all, our esteemed client clearly knows how to turn a situation in their favor. It’s rather... admirable.”

You shoot Jade a look. “Please don’t make that sound like an insult.”

Jade chuckles softly. “Not at all. I find your tactics fascinating. I’ll be quite interested to see how this all unfolds.”

Azul clears his throat, clearly ready to bring the conversation back on track. “Well, if that settles it, we have a deal. Two wishes and one hundred thousand gold. Floyd and Jade will assist you, and I’ll personally oversee the sabotage.”

You grin, satisfied. “Perfect. Let’s give those two a taste of what real humiliation feels like.”

Azul inclines his head. “Pleasure doing business with you, my dear client.”

As you get up to leave, Floyd playfully bumps your shoulder again. “Heh, I like you, Shrimpy. Let’s make sure that prince and his girl get what’s coming to ’em. It’ll be a real laugh.”

You smirk as you make your way out of the office. “Oh, trust me, Floyd. This is going to be spectacular.”

And with that, the stage was set. The heroine and her precious prince had no idea what was coming their way. But you did—and with the help of the mischievous trio from Mostro Lounge, you were going to enjoy every second of it.

The royal ballroom glistened with opulence as golden chandeliers hung above the vast marble floors, reflecting the lavishness of the night. The music was soft yet upbeat, a perfect backdrop for the event of the season. Nobles twirled gracefully around the room, engaged in light conversation as they eyed one another with thinly veiled curiosity. You stood at the entrance, the heavy doors creaking behind you as you took a deep breath.

The villainess in this world had been a little too subtle for her own good—dresses that were elegant but far too modest, more befitting of someone trying to sneak through the ranks as a saintess. But you? You had other ideas. You weren’t about to blend into the background. Oh no, tonight was all about making a splash.

The dress you wore was nothing short of a masterpiece. The neckline plunged just enough to be daring, the skirt flaring dramatically around your legs as you moved. The villainess had always had potential, you realized as you caught your reflection earlier that evening. With a little effort, she'd looked like a queen.

And apparently, that effort wasn’t lost on the crowd. Conversations stuttered to a stop as you walked in, eyes swiveling toward you like moths to a flame. A smirk tugged at your lips. Good. They could look all they wanted. Tonight, you were more than the villainess. You were a force to be reckoned with.

Of course, it didn’t take long for the male lead—Prince Arrogant-Entitled himself—to notice. He’d been chatting animatedly with the heroine, a sweet little thing dressed in pastels, who was practically bouncing on her feet with excitement.

But the moment you crossed the threshold, his gaze latched onto you like a leech, his conversation with the heroine cutting off mid-sentence as he abandoned her entirely. His eyes scanned you up and down with blatant appreciation, and you felt an unpleasant shiver crawl down your spine as he made his way toward you.

Sleazy little worm.

“My Lady,” he greeted you, standing too close for comfort. His voice dripped with what he likely assumed was charm. “You look ravishing tonight. I must say, your beauty is... overwhelming.”

You kept your expression neutral, though internally you gagged at his lackluster attempt at flirtation. The heroine, meanwhile, was glaring daggers from across the room. Not that it bothered you. Let her seethe.

You plastered on a fake smile, playing along for now. “Your Highness,” you replied, “I must say, your compliments are as subtle as ever.”

He laughed, his hand reaching out as if to brush your arm, but you sidestepped it gracefully. “You wound me, my lady,” he said, clearly trying to maintain the upper hand. “Would you honor me with a dance?”

You opened your mouth to deliver a polite but firm rejection, when suddenly, a familiar voice cut through the tension with the smoothness of silk.

“Ah, apologies, Your Highness,” Azul’s voice was a breath of fresh air as he sidled up beside you, his arm slipping around your waist with practiced ease. “I’m afraid my date for the evening is already spoken for.”

The prince's face dropped, the smile frozen awkwardly as Azul’s words sunk in. You could see the wheels turning in his head, trying to process how exactly this turn of events had occurred. “Your... date?” he stammered, looking between you and Azul.

Azul just smiled, that infuriatingly calm smile of his. “Yes,” he said, his tone light and polite but dripping with a silent victory. “I do hope you understand, Your Highness. After all, it wouldn’t do to leave such a radiant lady waiting, would it?”

You couldn’t help it—you burst out laughing. Azul's ability to swoop in at just the right moment with perfect timing was nothing short of impeccable.

The prince was visibly flustered, caught completely off-guard by the public rejection. The heroine, still watching from across the room, looked like she was about to combust on the spot. Her fists were clenched at her sides, and you could practically feel the heat of her glare boring holes into you.

“Thank you, Your Highness,” you said, dipping into a mocking little curtsy. “But I’m afraid I’ll have to decline.”

And with that, you took Azul’s arm and let him lead you away from the prince, who stood frozen in humiliation as the ballroom buzzed with whispers around him.

As soon as you were out of earshot, Azul turned to you with an amused grin. “You seemed to be having fun back there.”

“Oh, I was,” you replied, chuckling. “But not as much fun as I’m about to have dancing with you.”

Azul raised an eyebrow, his grip on your waist tightening slightly as the two of you began to sway to the music. “Careful now,” he teased. “If you keep up that flirting, I might just start blushing.”

You grinned, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. “I thought you were immune to such things. What happened to your infamous poker face?”

“Hmm, perhaps I underestimated your charms,” he mused, his voice lower now as he twirled you effortlessly around the dance floor. “You certainly know how to keep a man on his toes.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, smirking. “Is that so? Because I think you’re the one getting flustered, Azul.”

His smirk faltered for just a moment, a faint blush coloring his cheeks. You knew you had him.

But then, just when you thought you had the upper hand, Azul dipped you suddenly, causing a surprised squeak to escape your lips. He leaned over you, his face just inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin.

“Flustered, hmm?” he murmured, his voice smooth as velvet. “I think you may have that backward, my dearest client.”

You blinked up at him, momentarily caught off-guard by the intensity in his eyes. Damn it—he was good at this.

“Well played,” you muttered, feeling your own cheeks heating up now.

Azul chuckled softly, pulling you back up into his arms as the music continued to swell around you. “Don’t worry,” he whispered. “We can call this round a draw.”

You let out a breathless laugh, shaking your head. “Fine. But don’t think this is over.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied with a wink.

You’re jolted awake by the sound of frantic knocking on your bedroom door, followed by your maids bursting in like the world was ending. “My Lady!” one of them squeals. “The mafia is breaking into the house!”

Now, any sane person would hear this and immediately take steps to flee, barricade themselves in, or at the very least, hide under the bed. But you? No. In your infinite wisdom, still half asleep and probably only functioning on half a brain cell, you bolt out of bed and head straight to the living room like you’re ready to take on a gang of mobsters in your nightgown. What was it that you always said about wanting more excitement in life?

You storm into the living room, ready to confront the so-called "mafia," only to be greeted by none other than Azul, Jade, and Floyd. Well, they weren’t exactly what you expected, but then again, the maids had screamed ‘mafia,’ and these three did dabble in... questionably legal activities.

Floyd's already poking through your vase of expensive flowers, looking completely at home, while Jade is smiling in that eerie way of his that makes it hard to tell if he’s genuinely amused or planning to harvest your organs.

“Good morning,” Azul greets you smoothly, like this is the most normal thing in the world. “Apologies for the intrusion, but we have urgent business to discuss.”

You stare at them for a long moment, your confusion building. “I didn’t make an appointment with you guys. Did you make an appointment with me?”

Jade’s eyes gleam with mischief. “No appointment, but we’ve come across some information we thought you’d be interested in.”

You cross your arms, already sensing the chaos about to unfold. “Go on…”

“Well,” Jade says, stepping forward with an innocent smile (which, of course, is anything but), “it seems the prince and his little heroine are planning to attend a charity event today to show off their ‘generosity.’”

Floyd pops up behind you, slinging an arm over your shoulder like you’re best friends. “Want to crash it?” he asks, grinning wildly, his sharp teeth flashing. “It’s bound to be fun. Who knows what kinda trouble we can stir up?”

Azul adjusts his glasses, looking thoughtful yet undeniably excited. “There could be some... interesting opportunities there,” he muses. “And I wouldn’t mind attending, purely for business reasons, of course.”

You blink at them. Charity event? Crashing? Making the prince and heroine’s lives miserable? Well, hell, why not? You did wake up to the mafia in your living room, after all. “Fine,” you say with a smirk, “let’s do it. Let’s crash this event and see how generous our dear prince really is.”

The four of you arrive at the event like a troupe of misfits dressed in their Sunday best. The venue is packed with people, all fawning over the prince and the heroine like they’re some divine beings sent down to bless the peasants. The heroine’s practically glowing as she bathes in their attention, her overly sweet voice echoing through the hall as she accepts praise for what is—let’s be real here—a laughably small donation, considering who they are.

You can’t help but roll your eyes. The prince and heroine are practically bathing in the affection of these poor, unsuspecting people. "Oh, how generous they are!" people cry. "Such saints, oh thank the heavens!"

Yeah, not today, airhead.

You nudge Azul. “Let’s show them how it’s really done.”

Azul, already ahead of you, strides confidently toward the stage. You follow, not missing a beat, and together, you announce—no, proclaim—that you will be tripling the total amount of donations for the event.

The reaction is immediate. Complete chaos erupts. The organizers start crying tears of joy, running up to you with such fervor that you have no choice but to stand there and accept their hugs and gratitude, despite your overwhelming desire to swat them away. Floyd, cackling like a hyena, is playfully lifting some of them off the ground in his bear-like hugs, while Jade just stands off to the side, watching the chaos unfold with a bemused smile, occasionally offering polite nods of acknowledgment.

The prince, who had been gloating only moments before, now looks like he’s been slapped in the face. His expression is priceless—shock, embarrassment, and barely concealed rage all battling for dominance. The heroine’s smile has dropped completely, replaced with a furious scowl as she watches the organizers fawn over you instead. Her fists are clenched at her sides, and you can see the very moment her fragile ego shatters. Oh, how delicious.

Amidst all the madness, you catch yourself actually smiling—not one of your usual smirks or devious grins, but a genuine, warm smile. As much as this was all meant to be a petty revenge plan, you can’t deny the satisfaction that comes from seeing these people so happy. It's almost... heartwarming.

Azul turns to you at that exact moment, his usually calm expression softening as he sees your smile. He blinks, clearly caught off-guard by how radiant you look. For a split second, he seems to lose his composure, his cheeks tinged with the faintest hint of pink.

“You’re smiling,” he says, his voice almost quiet. “It suits you.”

You glance up at him, raising an eyebrow. “What, you’ve never seen me smile before?”

“Not like that,” Azul admits, his usual poise faltering as he looks down at you with something akin to awe. “It’s... different.”

Before you can respond, Floyd suddenly slides up between you, throwing an arm around both you and Azul with a grin. “Oho! Azul’s gettin’ all blushy on us, huh?” he teases, eyes glinting mischievously. “Careful, Shrimpy. You might actually be softening him up.”

Azul huffs, pushing Floyd away with a barely contained scowl. “You’re insufferable, Floyd.”

“Oh, come on, boss!” Floyd laughs, ruffling Azul’s hair before darting away to avoid his retaliation. “Just admit it, you’re totally into ‘em!”

Jade sidles up next to you, his ever-present smile in place. “Well, it seems things are progressing quite nicely,” he says, his tone light but teasing. “Perhaps we’ll see more of this warmth from you, hm? It’s quite refreshing.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh, shut up, both of you,” you say, though there’s no real malice in your words.

As the crowd around you finally begins to disperse, you feel a strange sense of contentment. Sure, you came here for revenge, but now? Maybe this wasn’t so bad after all.

Azul’s first wish. He could’ve asked for anything—power, prestige, wealth beyond imagination. But no, he wants to open a café. A legit café. Sure, his shady business would still run in the background, but this time, he wanted something wholesome, something real. And of course, he wants you to sponsor it, not just with money but with your influence—Queen of the Social World that you are after your fabulous ball stunt.

You’re intrigued, mostly because it’s Azul, but also because, well, it was a bit funny imagining him in a cute apron, serving cakes and coffee like some innocent café owner. But business was business, and you were all in.

The following weeks were spent in an intense whirlwind of planning with Azul, Floyd, and Jade. What started as you simply agreeing to fund Azul’s café spiraled into you helping them design the entire place, from choosing the colors of the tiles to picking out the cups, to menu planning. You found yourself oddly invested, not because Azul asked for your help, but because, strangely enough, you liked spending time with them.

Like tonight, for example. You were supposed to be working on the café’s logo, but instead…

“Stay still, Floyd,” you muttered as you carefully painted his nails. Floyd, surprisingly, wasn’t squirming, but he was giving Jade some ridiculous side-eye. “If you mess this up, I swear, I’ll let Jade poison you with the mushrooms.”

Jade chuckled, raising an eyebrow. “Poison? Now that’s an interesting accusation. I thought we were discussing the edible variety.”

“Oh, don’t play innocent, Jade. I’ve read up on your particular interests,” you quipped, finishing off one of Floyd’s fingers and moving on to the next. “And besides, everyone knows you’re a master of both the edible and the... not-so-edible.”

Floyd, meanwhile, grinned at you. “Shrimpy! You know, you're real funny, you know that? I should make you my personal nail artist. You’re doing way better than Jade ever did!”

Jade gave Floyd a look, crossing his arms in mock offense. “Please, Floyd. My skills are exceptional, but you insist on ruining the results every time.”

You giggled, shaking your head. “That’s because Floyd never sits still long enough for anything decent to happen. Isn’t that right?” You turned to Floyd, who was just nodding along like you’d given him the biggest compliment of the year.

Azul entered the room at that moment, looking slightly confused to find you painting Floyd’s nails. Without missing a beat, you reached out and tugged him over, all casual. “You’re next, Azul. Sit.”

He blinked at you, half surprised and half flustered by how natural this all felt. “I-I didn’t realize I’d signed up for this,” he stammered but still sat down beside you like he couldn’t refuse.

“You didn’t. But now you’re here, and you’ll be leaving with your nails looking fabulous,” you said with a grin. You took his hand, and despite how awkwardly he tried to keep his composure, you felt him relax under your touch.

“So, what were you discussing before I arrived?” Azul asked, glancing between you and Jade, who was still sitting nearby.

“Mushrooms,” Jade said with an oddly proud smile. “Our friend here is surprisingly knowledgeable about rare species. It’s rather refreshing to have such an... engaged conversation partner.”

“Well,” you said, dipping the nail brush back into the polish, “you’d be surprised what you can pick up after spending a considerable amount of time researching... various topics.”

“Of course,” Jade said, his smile just a little too knowing for your liking. But you didn’t take the bait, instead focusing on Azul’s hand, painting a particularly delicate pattern with precision.

As you finished Azul’s nails, Floyd suddenly launched himself at you, wrapping you in an unexpected squeeze. “Shrimpy! You’re my best friend now. Best. Friend.”

You barely had time to react as he practically crushed you, and you patted his back with a small laugh. “I’ll take that as a compliment... Floyd. Now, could you maybe let me breathe?”

Azul, who had been watching the exchange with a soft look on his face, finally stepped in. “Floyd, don’t suffocate our sponsor, please.”

Floyd reluctantly let you go but stayed attached to your side like a loyal puppy. “But Shrimpy’s so soft and fun!”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving Floyd away. “Okay, okay. Back off, or you’ll mess up your nails.”

Jade chuckled again, his gaze softening as he watched the three of you. “I must say, I never thought we’d be having... a sleepover, of sorts.”

You laughed. “Neither did I, to be honest. But I don’t mind. It’s kind of fun, isn’t it? Relaxing, being able to just... exist.”

Azul glanced down at his newly painted nails, feeling the warmth of the room and the camaraderie between you all. “Yes,” he murmured softly, “it is.”

And for a brief moment, Azul found himself wishing that nights like these could last forever.

The sun was already low on the horizon as you made your way toward Mostro Lounge, your daily visits now a routine you couldn’t seem to avoid. It had become a comforting ritual: meeting Azul, Jade, and Floyd, where the lines between business and friendship blurred into late-night planning sessions. You had just started to hum softly to yourself when a figure stepped into your path, blocking your way.

You stopped short, frowning as you recognized the sleazy, arrogant smirk plastered on the Crown Prince's face. He was the last person you wanted to deal with today. Or ever.

“There you are,” the prince drawled, taking a step closer to you, his hand reaching for your arm. “I’ve been thinking about you. Why don’t you stop all this nonsense and reconsider me as a suitor, hmm? You know I can offer you far more than Azul ever could.”

You stiffened as his hand wrapped around your wrist, his grip tighter than necessary, and you glared up at him. “Let go of me,” you said through gritted teeth.

The prince’s expression darkened, and he yanked you closer with a cruel tug. “Don’t act so high and mighty. You should be grateful I’m even giving you the time of day—”

A loud, unmistakable voice interrupted. “Oi, you slimy bastard!” Floyd���s voice boomed from behind you, and the next thing you knew, the prince’s hand was wrenched off your wrist as Floyd grinned down at him with an unsettling amount of excitement in his eyes. “You wanna keep those fingers or should I snap ‘em off for ya?”

The prince recoiled, his confidence wavering as Floyd stepped between the two of you, looking unhinged and ready to throw down at any moment. “Do you have any idea who I am—”

Floyd just laughed, cracking his knuckles with a loud pop. “You really think I care? Touch Shrimpy again, and I’ll show you why it’s a bad idea.”

Just as the prince looked like he was going to say something, Jade appeared at your side, his presence cold and menacing. His polite smile only made the threat more ominous. “Your Highness, I believe my brother gave you a fair warning. I suggest you heed it unless you wish to experience... unpleasant consequences.”

The prince looked between the two brothers, weighing his options. Though his pride was clearly hurt, the danger in their eyes finally seemed to register. He took a step back, sneering at you. “This isn’t over.”

“Oh, but it is,” Jade said, his smile never faltering. “If you value your position and your life.”

With that, the prince turned on his heel and left, and it wasn’t until his retreating figure disappeared that you realized you were shaking. The adrenaline coursing through your veins made your knees weak, and your breath came out shakier than you wanted it to.

“Shrimpy, you okay?” Floyd’s voice was softer now, lacking its usual teasing tone. He turned to you, his expression shifting from anger to concern.

Jade, too, watched you carefully. “You’re trembling. Are you hurt?”

You shook your head, biting your lip to stop the quiver. Without thinking, you stepped forward and wrapped your arms around Floyd first, burying your face in his chest. He stiffened for a second, surprised, before his arms enveloped you gently, as if unsure of how much pressure to apply.

“‘S okay, Shrimpy,” Floyd mumbled into your hair. “I gotcha.”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling Jade’s comforting hand rest on your shoulder. When you pulled away from Floyd, Jade was there too, his smile uncharacteristically soft. You hugged him as well, and for a moment, all the tension seemed to melt away as the Leech brothers stood there, silently offering their comfort.

By the time you made it to Mostro Lounge, Azul was already waiting, his expression brightening when he saw you approach—until he noticed your pale face and the tight look of concern on both Floyd and Jade’s features.

“What happened?” Azul asked immediately, his voice sharper than usual.

You hesitated for a second, glancing toward the twins. But before you could answer, Floyd spoke up. “The damn prince tried to pull some shit with Shrimpy.”

Azul’s entire demeanor darkened, the air around him thickening with icy fury. “Is that so?” His voice was calm, too calm, and it sent a shiver down your spine. “I see. Well, it seems our little game has taken a new turn.”

You blinked up at him, confused. “Azul?”

Azul turned to you, his stormy eyes locking with yours, and despite the anger simmering beneath his calm exterior, he smiled—a smile that sent chills down your spine, but also made you feel... protected. “From this point on, your revenge is my revenge. I won’t allow that fool to get away with this.”

You could only nod as the weight of his words settled over you. What had started as a personal vendetta was now much larger. Azul had made it personal, and with his intelligence and the Leech brothers by your side, you had no doubt the prince would soon regret the day he ever laid a hand on you.

Azul reached out and took your hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “We’ll make sure he never forgets this lesson.”

And with that, you knew—there was no going back now. It wasn’t just about your revenge anymore. You had a powerful ally who was more than willing to turn the tables. And for the first time since you’d been thrown into this chaotic world, you felt truly... safe.

It all started with a completely innocent plan.

Well, innocent in the way that any plan involving Jade and Floyd Leech could be. You were sitting in Azul's office, sipping tea, when Floyd flopped onto the sofa like a bored toddler who’d been forced to sit through an economics lecture.

"Ugh, I’m bored,” he groaned, throwing an arm dramatically over his face. “Let’s go mess with someone. Like, now.”

Azul, across from you, pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have work to do, Floyd. You can’t just—"

“I wanna mess with someone," Floyd whined, cutting him off, “and you know who’s real fun to squish? That princessy little heroine.”

Your ears perked up. Oh no. No, no. This was bad.

But also tempting.

Azul gave you a side-eye like he already knew you were considering the chaos. “We’re not doing this,” he said firmly, like he was talking to two feral cats he had to babysit.

Jade, standing ever-so-politely by the door with his signature smile, chimed in. “I must say, brother, it does sound like a rather… entertaining idea.” His eyes glinted in that creepy way that made you unsure if he was plotting your doom or just mentally filing away a new tea recipe involving venomous plants.

“YESSS!” Floyd shot up from the couch, his mood doing a complete 180. “Let’s go squish her, let’s go squish—"

“No,” Azul snapped, sending you a warning look. “Don’t encourage this.”

You, of course, ignored the warning look entirely. “I mean… it's not the worst idea in the world.” You gave a dramatic sigh. “Someone has to put her in her place.”

Azul’s eye twitched. “We had a plan—”

“And now we have fun,” you interrupted, standing up and straightening your jacket like you were about to lead an army into battle. “Come on, Azul. When was the last time we had fun?”

Azul opened his mouth to retort, but Floyd was already bouncing around the room like a hyperactive puppy. “Ooooh, we’re gonna have fun, we’re gonna have fun!”

Jade, always the picture of composure, smiled serenely. “Shall I prepare the necessary… ingredients?”

Azul looked like he was about to pass out from sheer exasperation. “What ingredients?!”

But it was too late. The twins were already in full scheming mode, and you were all-in.

Twenty minutes later, you were sneaking—well, you were sneaking. Jade was strolling casually, and Floyd was giggling—through the palace gardens where the heroine had set up her usual tea party, surrounded by noble ladies with IQs lower than the calorie count of their diet biscuits.

The plan was simple: make her life miserable. The execution, however, was where it got beautifully wacky.

Floyd had brought a lot of frogs. (Don’t ask where he got them.)

The heroine was sitting, blissfully unaware, serving tea and playing the perfect little princess as usual. You felt your eye twitch just looking at her.

“Eww,” Floyd whispered beside you, wrinkling his nose. “She’s got that gross fake smile on again. Makes me wanna squish her even more.”

“Patience, Floyd,” Jade murmured, handing him a cup of “tea”—which was, in reality, some concoction Jade had brewed that you suspected involved swamp water. “We mustn't rush.”

Azul, standing beside you, was facepalming so hard you were surprised his glasses didn’t snap in two. “This is a disaster.”

You grinned. “No, this is a masterpiece.”

Just as the heroine raised her cup to sip her tea, Floyd, who was clearly too impatient to wait for subtlety, threw three frogs straight at the tea table.

SPLAT!

Chaos. Utter chaos. The noble ladies screamed, cups and saucers flew, and the heroine herself jumped back like the frogs were molten lava. Her chair tipped, and she fell—right into the flowerbed, splashing herself with tea and dirt.

Jade clapped politely, ever the gentleman. “Bravo, Floyd. That was an excellent throw.”

The heroine scrambled to her feet, gasping and red-faced, frantically brushing dirt and tea from her dress. “Wh-what—how dare—"

“Oh nooooo,” Floyd said, dramatically clasping his hands to his cheeks. “It looks like you fell! So clumsy! And right before your party too. That’s soooo embarrassing~!”

Azul turned to you with a look that screamed I told you this was a bad idea.

You, however, were practically glowing. “This is the best day of my life.”

“I-I’ll have you all arrested!” the heroine spluttered, her hair falling in disarray as she glared daggers at you and the Leech twins.

“Oh?” you said sweetly, leaning forward with an exaggerated pout. “For what? Frogs? You think we command amphibians, your grace? You’re so flattering.”

Azul cleared his throat, stepping in with his best diplomatic smile. “Now, now, let’s not escalate this. It was clearly an unfortunate mishap, and I’m sure you’ll be able to recover… in time.”

The heroine narrowed her eyes at him, her cheeks burning in humiliation. “You think this is funny, don’t you?!”

Floyd leaned over Azul’s shoulder, grinning like a shark. “I think it’s hilarious.”

Before she could retort, Jade suddenly stepped forward, his usual calm smile widening just a bit too much. “Perhaps it would be wise to retreat and freshen up, Miss. After all, one mustn’t linger in such… messy conditions.”

She opened her mouth, closed it again, and then—seeing the eyes of all the other noble ladies on her, their whispers starting to spread—she whirled around, storming off with a huff.

As soon as she was out of sight, you and Floyd doubled over, laughing like lunatics.

Azul, pinching the bridge of his nose again, shook his head. “I can’t believe I’m associated with any of you.”

“Oh, come on, Azul!” you managed to say through giggles, wiping a tear from your eye. “This was gold!”

“I still think we should’ve used the snakes,” Floyd added, totally serious.

Jade, always the perfectionist, just gave a little hum. “Next time, perhaps.”

Azul sighed deeply, already regretting every life choice that led him to this moment. “I need a vacation.”

You clapped him on the shoulder. “Come on, Azul. Admit it. You had fun.”

He glanced at you, his lips twitching slightly as if he was fighting a smile. “…Perhaps.”

And with that, the four of you left the wreckage of the tea party behind, victorious and full of glee. The heroine would be recovering from this disaster for weeks.

Sometimes, revenge really was a dish best served with frogs.

The evening was quiet as you and Azul strolled through the town, the air filled with the subtle hum of night creatures, the scent of blooming flowers mixing with the cool night breeze. It was peaceful. Too peaceful, perhaps, as you noticed Azul shifting nervously beside you.

"Are you alright?" you asked with a raised eyebrow, watching as he straightened his posture a little too quickly. He was trying to play it cool, but you could tell that there was something bothering him.

"Of course," he replied with an air of forced calm. "Just enjoying the evening, that's all."

You nodded, though his tenseness made you smile internally. Here was Azul, calm and collected under all circumstances—except in moments like these, where even the tiniest of things could throw him off. It was charming, really.

And then, out of nowhere, a loud rustling erupted from the nearby bushes. Before you could react, Azul let out a strangled, startled yelp, practically leaping into your arms in an impressive feat of acrobatics you hadn’t quite expected. You blinked down at him, his arms clinging tightly to your shoulders as he cowered against you.

“W-what was that?!” he stammered, clearly shaken, his eyes darting around like a nervous prey animal.

You craned your neck to see what had caused the commotion, only to spot… a particularly fat raccoon waddling out of the bushes. The creature glanced at you lazily, munched on a discarded piece of bread, and then ambled away into the night.

“Azul,” you began slowly, “it’s just a raccoon.”

Azul, looking rather pale, cleared his throat and tried to regain his dignity, though he was still very much in your arms. "I-I see… It merely startled me, that’s all."

For a moment, you considered putting him down, but then you looked at him—his wide, flustered eyes, his pink-tinged cheeks—and decided, "Nope." With a little shift, you adjusted his weight in your arms and started walking again, as if carrying the mafia boss-turned-café-owner like a blushing bride was the most normal thing in the world.

Azul blinked. "What are you doing?"

"Carrying you," you said simply.

"But—"

"No ‘buts.’ Just relax," you said cheerfully, striding forward. Azul's face went from mildly shocked to utterly dumbfounded as you continued to carry him through the quiet town square like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Honestly, you’re pretty light,” you teased, trying to hold back a grin. “I should carry you more often.”

Azul cleared his throat, his face a deep crimson now, but you didn’t miss the way his arms stayed looped around your shoulders. His voice was a little quieter when he finally spoke again. “Well, if you insist…”

You chuckled, enjoying his rare moment of vulnerability. As much as he liked to keep his composed businessman mask, Azul clearly wasn’t immune to your charm. You could see it in the way he leaned a little closer, and for a moment, the teasing gave way to something softer, something a little more real.

When you finally set him down after several streets of wandering, Azul adjusted his glasses, his composure returning. But then he turned to you, an odd glint in his eye. “You know… I’ve been thinking. About a way to get back at the prince.”

Your eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. “Oh? Do tell.”

He folded his arms behind his back, looking as though he was trying to frame this in a way that didn’t reveal too much. “It’s quite simple, really. A business arrangement. A… fake engagement.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to elaborate. He cleared his throat and continued. “If we pretend to be engaged, it would irritate the prince, perhaps even force him into a rash decision. It would also be good for my public image. And, of course, you would gain the satisfaction of seeing him completely humiliated.”

You stared at him for a moment, then smirked. “Azul… do you want to date me?”

He choked on absolutely nothing, sputtering, “W-what— I— that’s not what I said—”

You rolled your eyes, amused by how he was floundering. “It’s fine, Azul. I get it. You want to date me. You don’t have to frame it like a business deal.”

Azul blinked rapidly, caught between mortification and something else—something that looked like hope. “Well, that’s… I mean…”

“And if you really want to make it official,” you continued with a grin, “why don’t we just make the engagement real?”

Azul’s flustered expression softened into something utterly pleased. For a moment, he stood there, barely containing the wide smile that threatened to break free. “You… You’d really consider that?”

“I think it would be fun,” you said with a wink. “Plus, it’ll definitely piss off the prince.”

Azul finally allowed himself to smile—a genuine, relieved smile that made your heart skip a beat. “In that case… I would be honored.”

The next morning, you decided to really turn things up a notch. You knew the prince and the heroine were planning to spend their day parading around the town square, fishing for compliments and praise. So, naturally, you decided to plan your very public proposal right in the middle of their little event.

You stood with Azul in the town square, both of you perfectly dressed for the occasion. The crowd gathered, waiting for the prince’s grand appearance, but before he could make his big entrance, you stole the spotlight. Grabbing Azul’s hand, you dragged him to the center of the square, and with a dramatic flourish, you dropped to one knee.

“Azul Ashengrotto,” you began, projecting your voice loud enough for the entire square to hear, “will you do me the honor of becoming my fiancé?”

The crowd gasped, murmurs rippling through the commoners. The prince, who had just appeared with the heroine on his arm, looked absolutely dumbfounded, while the heroine herself looked like she’d swallowed a lemon.

Azul, ever the dramatic actor, placed a hand over his heart as if he was deeply moved. “Of course!” he said, tears welling up in his eyes. “It would be my greatest honor.”

The crowd erupted into applause as you slipped a ring onto his finger, and Azul pretended to wipe away a tear, leaning in to whisper, “You know, I didn’t think you’d go this far.”

You grinned up at him, whispering back, “Well, you’re the one who wanted to fake it. Might as well make it memorable.”

Azul let out a small laugh, then looked at you with something softer in his eyes. “I have to admit… this isn’t so bad.”

And for the first time since this whole revenge plot began, you found yourself feeling… happy. Not just because you’d embarrassed the prince and heroine, though that certainly was satisfying. But because standing here, with Azul by your side, it felt like maybe, just maybe, this arrangement could be more than just a scheme.

Azul sniffled dramatically, playing up the moment for all it was worth, but you saw the genuine affection in his eyes. And as the crowd continued to cheer and applaud, you couldn’t help but smile, truly and honestly happy for once—happy just to exist here with Azul, your hand firmly in his.

Tea parties were the bane of your existence. Seriously, you’d rather file taxes for a hundred years or listen to the prince’s self-praising monologues on loop than sit at one more dainty little table surrounded by frills and forced giggles. But, here you were, once again trapped in the depths of social hell, smiling so hard your face muscles were cramping.

“Isn’t this just delightful?” one of the duchesses chirped, her laugh tinkling like a bell forged from your nightmares. You could practically hear your soul dying.

You plastered on a fake smile. “Absolutely. A dream come true.”

Across the table, the heroine herself—Miss Sunshine and Butterflies—fluttered around like she was hosting the fanciest gala of the year. You bit back a groan as she served tea to everyone, her stupidly sweet smile never faltering. But there was a gleam in her eye, something almost off about the way she was handing out those cups.

You squinted. Was it just you, or did her eyes always look like that? Beady little things, like a snake pretending to be a fluffy bunny. Ugh, maybe it was just her entire vibe that set you off. You wouldn’t be surprised if she threw in a few spiteful herbs just to ruin your day further.

“Here you go!” she chirped, placing a cup of Rosehip in front of you. Her eyes gleamed again.

Okay, weird.

Before you could think too hard about it, Azul’s hand slid across the table. With a smooth, practiced movement, he swapped your cup with his, like this was a perfectly normal thing to do.

You blinked at him, raising a brow. “What? Did you want rosehip that badly?”

Azul smiled, giving you a soft shrug. “I’ve always been partial to it.”

That was… well, typical Azul. You shrugged it off. Maybe he just wanted to get a taste of a different blend, and it wasn’t like you were going to argue over tea.

And then he took a sip.

And immediately coughed up blood.

"Azul?!" you shrieked, eyes widening as he doubled over, clutching his throat. The teacup slipped from his hand and shattered against the table. Panic shot through your chest like a dagger.

"Oh my god, Azul!" you were up and out of your chair faster than you’d ever moved in your life, diving next to him on the floor as his coughing turned wet and ragged. Blood splattered onto the pristine tablecloth, and all you could hear was your heartbeat thundering in your ears. “No, no, no, NO, this is NOT happening!”

Azul’s face was turning ashen, his breathing shallow, and you were completely losing it.

“What the hell was in that tea?!” You turned, glaring murderously at the heroine, who just stood there, wide-eyed and shocked. Your hands trembled as you pulled Azul closer, cradling his head against your lap like he was going to die any second.

“Stay with me, dammit! Don’t you DARE leave me like this!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face. “We haven’t even finished the damn revenge plot, you idiot! I-I didn’t even get to tell you I like you!”

Healers finally came rushing in, but by then you were an absolute mess—full-on ugly crying, gripping Azul’s shirt so hard your knuckles turned white. You were inconsolable, practically wailing like the world was ending because, to you, it really felt like it was.

“P-please, I’ll do anything! Just don’t die, okay?! You can have my soul, my fortune, my entire wardrobe, I don’t care! I’ll even stop plotting revenge, just don’t—don’t—” you hiccupped through sobs, nearly incoherent at this point.

Somehow, through your hysterical bargaining with the universe, the healers managed to stabilize Azul. His breathing evened out, the blood stopped flowing, and you could hear them saying something about the poison wearing off. But all you could do was sit there, holding him as the storm of emotions tore through you like a hurricane.

It felt like an eternity before he was finally awake and stable, sitting up in bed after what felt like the longest, most agonizing night of your life. And when you saw him there, looking far too smug for someone who had just almost died, you snapped.

“What the hell was that?!” You stormed into the room, furious tears still clinging to your lashes. “What in the name of all that’s holy possessed you to drink that?!”

Azul blinked at you, clearly not expecting the outburst. “I didn’t want you to get hurt—”

“I DON’T CARE!” you shrieked, pacing around like a madwoman. “You almost died! Do you have any idea what that did to me?!”

Azul opened his mouth to reply, but you cut him off, throwing your hands up. “The deal’s off, Azul! I’m done! No more revenge, no more schemes, I don’t want to be a part of this if you’re gonna be coughing up blood and nearly dying on me!”

You were about two seconds away from spiraling into another sobfest when suddenly, Azul grabbed your wrist and pulled you toward him. Before you could even protest, his lips crashed onto yours, shutting you up immediately.

You blue screened.

For a solid five seconds, all you could think was: Oh, he’s kissing me. And then, Wait, he's kissing me!

He pulled back, looking exasperated and amused all at once. “Will you calm down?” he said, his voice soft but firm. “I’m not going anywhere. I want to see this through. For you.”

You blinked, completely thrown off. “But… why?”

“Because,” he smirked, “you’re not the only one with a vendetta. And, well,” his eyes softened a little, “because I care about you.”

Your heart stuttered, and you stared at him, still not quite over the kiss. “You what?”

Azul chuckled, clearly enjoying the rare sight of you being completely speechless. “Sounds like you care about me too,” he teased. “Or did I hallucinate you confessing your undying love while I was poisoned?”

Your face flushed red, and you crossed your arms defensively. “I wasn’t confessing my undying love, I was panicking, okay? But, yeah. Fine. I like you. I was gonna tell you sooner, but then you had to go and die on me.”

Azul raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t die.”

“Shut up,” you grumbled. “You almost did.”

He laughed, and you swore your heart did a little flip. “Well, now that we’ve cleared that up…” he leaned closer again, his eyes glinting with mischief. “What do you say we continue this revenge plot? With less near-death experiences, of course.”

You eyed him warily. “Only if you promise to never pull that shit again.”

Azul chuckled and gave you a playful, solemn look. “I promise.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was still pounding as you leaned in, pulling him into another kiss. And this time, there was no poison, no tears, no panic—just the two of you, finally on the same page for once.

And maybe, just maybe, you could pull off this revenge scheme and come out of it with something even better.

It was a party meant for the elite of the kingdom—everyone who considered themselves someone was present. Glistening chandeliers, extravagant gowns, and enough fake smiles to power an entire city. But all you could focus on was the prince—who was pretending not to undress you with his eyes from across the ballroom—and the heroine, fluttering about with her fake miracles and equally fake modesty.

You stood by Azul, nursing a glass of wine and feeling like your patience was thinner than ever. But tonight was the night. The two of you had been planning this for weeks. Everything was in place, and the heroine and the prince were about to get the public humiliation they so richly deserved. The prince, with his wandering hands and slimy charm, had made it no secret he was obsessed with you, the villainess. And the heroine? A conniving fraud with no real powers, just cheap tricks and affairs with every married noble she could get her hands on. They were perfect for each other.

Azul adjusted his glasses, his smirk subtle but telling. “Are you ready?”

You glanced at him, a wicked grin spreading across your face. “Born ready.”

The two of you exchanged a nod, and as Azul sauntered toward the prince’s little circle of sycophants, you made your way toward the heroine, who was doing her best impression of a saintly flower surrounded by admirers. The second you reached her, she turned to you with that fake smile, the kind that said I wish I could set you on fire, but I’ll settle for pretending to like you.

“Ah, it’s so good to see you,” she cooed, her eyes scanning you for a flaw to latch onto.

You gave her a saccharine smile, voice dripping with false sweetness. “Likewise. I couldn’t help but overhear your little chat about your latest miracle—what was it this time? Turning water into wine?”

She blinked, momentarily caught off guard. “Oh, nothing so grand. Just helping a few people in need, as always.”

“Helping?” you raised an eyebrow. “That’s funny, because I seem to recall several of those ‘people in need’ being married men. Some of them not exactly in need of healing, but more… in need of a different kind of attention.”

Gasps erupted around you. The heroine’s face turned a rather satisfying shade of white.

“I don’t know what you’re implying,” she stammered, her composure cracking.

“Oh, I’m not implying anything,” you said, voice turning sharp as a blade. “I’m flat-out saying it. You’ve been using your so-called ‘holy powers’ as a cover while having affairs with multiple married men. That’s not even the worst of it, though, is it? Let’s talk about your miracles—or should I say, your alchemy tricks.”

More gasps. Nobles all around were now staring, whispers spreading like wildfire. And as for the heroine? She looked like she was about to faint.

“You—you’re lying!” she screeched, eyes wide with desperation.

“Oh, am I?” You pulled out a letter, one of many you and Azul had collected. “Because this says otherwise. A love letter to Lord Ainsworth, a very married man, detailing your... special ‘healing sessions.’” You fluttered the letter in front of her face, then loudly cleared your throat, reading aloud, “Your touch is divine, and I felt so... blessed after our long night together. Honestly, your vocabulary could use some work. Not exactly poetic, is it?”

The heroine was trembling now, and the crowd around you was in stunned silence. But you weren’t done. Oh no. You turned to where Azul was confronting the prince. Perfect timing.

Azul was speaking smoothly, voice calm but lethal. “And speaking of deception, Your Highness, should we address your... exemplary battlefield skills? I’ve heard rumors that when the kingdom needed you most, you deserted the warfront. Ran off with a servant girl while your men perished. Am I wrong?”

The prince, who had been sneering at you from afar, suddenly looked as though he’d been slapped. “That’s preposterous!”

“Oh?” Azul’s smirk deepened. “So, you didn’t flee like a coward and abandon your post? Perhaps we should ask your former comrades. Oh wait, we can’t—they’re dead.”

Gasps turned into outright murmurs now, the room swirling with scandal. The prince, visibly sweating, attempted to regain control. “I don’t have to listen to this nonsense! Guards! Arrest these—”

You cut him off with a laugh, stepping forward. “Oh, and before you get all high and mighty, let’s not forget your little... habit of harassing women at court. Everyone’s heard about it, but no one’s had the guts to say it out loud. You have no idea how many complaints have been buried by your influence.”

The prince’s face turned purple. He looked like a fish flopping on dry land, desperate to escape. The nobles around him, previously loyal lapdogs, were now backing away, muttering to each other in disbelief.

The heroine finally broke, shrieking like a banshee. “You can’t do this to us! You’ll regret this!”

You turned to her with a smile that could only be described as gleeful. “I already do, dear. Trust me, being in the same room with you is enough regret for a lifetime.”

And with that, Azul snapped his fingers, signaling the beginning of your grand exit.

In the chaos that followed—nobles yelling, the prince and the heroine in absolute shambles—Floyd, with a cackle, grabbed you and threw you over his shoulder like a sack of flour. “Time to go, Shrimpy!”

“What is it with you and throwing me over your shoulder?!” you hollered, flailing. But you were laughing, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Meanwhile, Jade was quick to hoist Azul over his shoulder, ignoring Azul’s indignant protests. “I am fully capable of walking, Jade!”

Jade chuckled. “But this is faster.”

With that, the four of you barreled out of the ballroom, tearing through the palace halls like children who’d just pulled the most epic prank of their lives. You could hear the sounds of guards scrambling, but none of them seemed to have the nerve to chase after you. After all, exposing the kingdom’s so-called saviors was no small feat.

“Where are we even going?!” you laughed, gripping onto Floyd’s jacket as he sprinted full speed, not slowing down for a second.

“Anywhere that isn’t here, duh!” Floyd cackled, clearly having the time of his life.

After a few more turns, you finally found a secluded garden, well away from the palace guards, and Floyd unceremoniously dropped you onto the ground. Jade did the same to Azul, though with a bit more care.

You took a moment to catch your breath, still riding high from the adrenaline of it all. Azul straightened his coat, still clearly annoyed by the shoulder-ride but too composed to say much about it.

“Well, that was fun,” you said, leaning back against the garden wall. “So, what now? Are we fugitives yet?”

Azul, now looking much more composed, adjusted his glasses and cleared his throat. “There’s still the matter of my wish. You promised me one, remember?”

You blinked. “Oh, right. What do you want?”

Azul hesitated, then fixed you with a look that was surprisingly serious. “Come with me to the Coral Sea.”

You stared at him. “What, like... right now?”

Azul’s eyes flickered with something like doubt. “You don’t have to—”

“Oh, no, I’m in,” you interrupted, grinning. “Let’s go right now before we get arrested or something.”

Azul blinked, clearly not expecting you to agree so readily. “You… you’re serious?”

You shrugged. “Why wouldn’t I be? This place is a nightmare. You know what sounds fun? Underwater adventures. Coral Sea? Sign me up. Let’s get out of here before they send a search party.”

Floyd laughed loudly, throwing an arm around you. “I like this plan! Let’s see how Shrimpy handles the ocean!”

Jade chuckled, his smile as sharp as ever. “It seems we have an impromptu vacation ahead of us.”

Azul, still looking somewhat stunned, finally smiled—though it was a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “Very well. Let’s go, then. The Coral Sea awaits.”

The Coral Sea was nothing like you expected, but everything you needed. You’d relocated your café to this underwater haven, a place filled with bioluminescent reefs, shimmering schools of fish, and an air of quiet magic. Running a café under the sea was a wild dream, but somehow, you and Azul had made it happen. Every day felt like an adventure, with Floyd and Jade always testing your patience—and taste buds—with their questionable yet inventive cooking.

Today was no different.

You stood at the counter of your café, watching with a mix of amusement and mild horror as Floyd dumped a strange, glowing ingredient into a bubbling pot. Jade stood next to him, calmly adding delicate pinches of spices that, according to him, would “bring out the flavor.”

You raised an eyebrow. “So, what exactly are you making today? Because last time, I’m pretty sure I saw sparks coming out of the dish.”

“Don’t worry, Shrimpy!” Floyd chirped, giving the pot an enthusiastic stir. “This one won’t explode! Probably.”

Jade smirked, clearly enjoying your wariness. “It’s a new dish we’ve been perfecting—Sea Serpent Stew. I think you’ll find it... quite unique.”

You blinked. “Sea Serpent… what now?”

Floyd cackled. “Relax, it’s just a name! No actual sea serpents in it. Mostly.”

With a resigned sigh, you accepted the bowl they handed you and stared down at the glowing, swirling contents. It looked like something out of a mad alchemist’s lab. But hey, you’d survived worse—like being kidnapped by Floyd. This was nothing.

Bracing yourself, you took a cautious sip.

It wasn’t… terrible. Actually, it was kind of delicious. Spicy, with an oddly sweet aftertaste that lingered in a pleasant way. You blinked in surprise, then took another spoonful.

“Well, damn,” you said, looking at the two eels with newfound respect. “This is actually good. I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we could add this to the menu.”

Floyd pumped a fist into the air. “Yesss! Told ya we nailed it!”

Jade chuckled, looking pleased but less outwardly excited. “I’m glad it meets your standards.”

You grinned at them both. “I mean, if people don’t mind glowing food, we’re set. Let’s call it ‘Mystic Stew’ or something. I’ll work on the branding.”

After a few more rounds of tasting, tweaking, and banter, the day finally wound down. The café’s lanterns dimmed, casting the place in a soft, cozy glow, and you could hear the gentle hum of the ocean outside. Floyd and Jade headed out to “hunt for more ingredients”—which you suspected was code for causing chaos somewhere else—leaving you alone to close up with Azul.

You locked the doors, the quiet settling in as Azul finished counting the day’s earnings. He glanced at you, a soft smile playing on his lips. “Another successful day.”

“Yup. Can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think we’re actually doing well here,” you mused, walking over to him. The quiet moments like this were becoming your favorite—just the two of you, after the bustle of the day, with nothing but the serene ocean around you.

Azul chuckled, slipping his arms around your waist as you leaned into him. “You doubted our business?”

“Never doubted the business,” you teased. “But the Coral Sea? Yeah, I wasn’t sure about moving here. But now... I wouldn’t trade it for anything.”

He pressed a soft kiss to your temple, his touch warm and familiar. “I’m glad. This place... it’s different from anything I could have imagined, but with you here, it feels like home.”

Your heart skipped a beat, and you couldn’t help but smile. “I never thought a stupid order for a magic rock would lead to this, but here we are. You and me, running a café under the sea. Who knew?”

Azul chuckled, pulling you closer. “That magic rock was the start of everything, wasn’t it? ”

You looked up at him, feeling your chest tighten with affection. “Yeah, funny how life works. I thought I was signing up for a revenge plot, and instead, I got... well, you.”

Azul’s gaze softened, and for a moment, neither of you said anything. The weight of everything—the journey, the chaos, the unplanned twists—hung in the air between you, warm and comforting.

“I love you, you know that?” you said, the words slipping out with ease now, no hesitation.

Azul smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “And I love you. More than I thought possible.”

You tilted your head, a mischievous grin tugging at your lips. “Good, because you’re stuck with me now. No refunds, no returns.”

He laughed, a rare, genuine sound that made your heart swell. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

With that, you pulled him into a kiss, soft and lingering, with the ocean as your only witness. This—right here—was everything. The café, the Coral Sea, and Azul by your side. It might have started with a plot for petty revenge, but it had turned into something much deeper, much more real.

And as you stood there in his arms, the world felt right. You had found your place. Together.

Series Masterlist ; Masterlist

Okay! Kalim and Leona are next! (Whichever I finish editing first) Who would y'all like to see after that?

[reidrum]

the prophecy part 2:

poison blood from the wound of the pricked hand | s.r.

A/N: she's arrived! i hope we like this one,,,,.....,,,.,maybe a part 3 what who said that

cw: angst, hurt/comfort no comfort, penelope is a really good friend, fem!reader, spencer's kind of a dick bro

summary: you and spencer deal with the aftermath of cat's words

wc: 3.01k

part 1

_______________________________________________

“I wish I fathered the child,” Spencer starts, JJ can feel her heart tighten, “Because you and I deserve each other, don’t we?”

Cat smirks, “You’re much better at lying now than you were last time at the restaurant, bravo. Better keep the performance up when you have to go explain yourself to your girlfriend later.”

Spencer’s face steels up and he’s trying his damndest to keep his composure, knowing the only way to get the location of his mother is to let Cat think she won the game. But with every mention of you that falls from her poisoned lips, he feels the burn sinking further into his skin when he thinks about what could be going through your head right now.

“Even if you think I’m lying,” Spencer stares at her, trying to push down any emotion on his face, “That’s the secret right?”

Cat is taken aback by his words, almost looking offended and triumphant all together.

JJ watches her eyes well up and dial Lindsey to give her the go signal, when Lindsey learns at the hands of the rest of the team her one sided lover was pregnant with another man’s child, she devastatingly surrenders the bomb controls and Diana Reid.

Spencer slackens knowing his mother was safe with his team, but he’s unable to stop thinking about Cat’s accusation.

“How did you know?” He asks as the guard stands her up to put the handcuffs back on.

“About Maeve?” 

He nods.

“At the restaurant, you were talking about a fake wife,” The guard walks her over to the door where she passes Spencer, only inches apart, “The ring may have been fake, but the way you spoke about her told me that she was real. And I’ve got eyes everywhere, it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re different now than when you were with her.”

She pauses then chuckles, “But clearly this genius couldn’t figure it out.”

He feels the temperature rising again but JJ preemptively grabs his forearm before he has a chance to react, “The team has your mom, we’ll go meet them at the BAU.”

Spencer nods curtly and storms out of the room without a second glance at Cat.

————

The elevator doors open and he’s met with the relieving sight of his mother, safe and sound. He embraces her in a big hug while the team dissipates around them giving them a moment. Spencer holds onto his mother for some time, letting his emotions come to surface. The last 24 hours have been the most tumultuous he’s ever experienced—almost dying in prison, getting released, the kidnapping of his mother, and the most wrenching of all, you.

He can’t help but grip onto her like a baby bird refusing to fly. He’s been someone who’s had to grow up way faster than anyone expected, academically and mentally, in order to care for the people in his life when they weren’t able to themselves. It’s led him to questionable decisions with detrimental repercussions, but he’d do it again in a heartbeat if it meant they’d be okay.

Diana pulls away first and wipes the tears from Spencer’s eyes, “Can we go home?” He nods tearfully and pulls his keys out, walking to the elevator to go down to the parking lot. As they’re going down he feels the adrenaline dying down and the reality sink in. He has no idea how he’s gonna fix this—if he can even fix this.

In a taunt from the universe, he hears a text come through on his phone, from you, of course.

You should spend time with your mom and make sure she’s okay. I’m staying at Penelope’s for some time. We can talk later.

He sighs and shuts his phone off, slipping it back into his pocket. You were right, it had been a textbook definition insane 24 hours in his life, and he knew he needed to spend time with his mother in getting her resituated.

——

You and Spencer spent five days apart. Neither of you went into work, for obvious reasons, and all you could do was rot on Penny’s couch, barely eating or drinking enough water, hyper analyzing every intimate moment of your relationship with Spencer to find any clue that he wasn’t fully present with you.

Penelope would come home after her day at the office, bringing you food from your favorite takeout place just the way you like, the way only Spencer knew, and sit with you while you cried.

It nearly killed her seeing you so down, her dear friend who she cared for so much and wished desperately to take away all your suffering. But the empath in her knows that if she’s feeling this bad, she can’t even imagine how Spencer must feel.

She sits with you for twenty minutes in silence, your head in her lap as she strokes your hair before speaking up, “So um, he was able to put his mom back into a sanitarium. With a vetted full time nurse who said he’d get hourly updates from.”

“That’s great, Penny.” you mumble apathetically. A small part of you felt bad, despite what was going on between you and Spencer, Diana was also collateral in a whole different way. You were grateful that she could find some sense of normalcy after all that’s happened. You wondered if that could be you, receiving solace and safety from someone you were supposed to trust.

“He won’t stop asking, sweetie.”

You sigh, “I know, I’m sorry he keeps bugging you.”

She waves you off, “It’s not that. I—I don’t know how to fix this. You guys are my bestest friends, a—and to see Spencer go through wh—what he went through, and then seeing you after what he d—did.” she sniffled.

“Penelope—“

“I’m not trying to be selfish, I swear! I have big emotions you know this. I won’t tell you what to do or what I think you should, because honestly sweetheart I don’t know either,” she tears up more, “But I will tell you the facts, because like that dummy boy, fact dumping reassures me of what’s real. And I need you to remember that when your brain is trying to trick you otherwise.”

You start crying again seeing her all emotional and she puts a hand up, “Let me finish first, or you don’t get the donut I got you.” She laughs tearfully.

You match her laugh and let her continue.

“I only have one fact for you, and you might not like it but it’s the truth, no matter what you think.” she starts, “That boy loves you. Like he would petition the Oxford dictionary to put you under the definition of love, loves you.”

“But—“

“But two things can exist. He loves you dearly, but what he did was fucked up. How you feel is extremely valid. God, my love, I can’t even imagine how you feel. But if and when you go talk to him I just need you to remember that. Okay?”

You sit silently next to her, contemplating everything your brain has been computing the last five days. The spirals, the what ifs, the self doubt—you know logically you won’t get any clarity unless you face your fear, and accept that whatever happens is your predetermined fate.

“Okay.”

“I love you so much. I am always in your corner, and if it comes to it, I know his social.”

“Penny!”

“I’m just saying!” she laughs, “You’re more than welcome to stay as long as you need to, okay?”

You lean forward to hug her, “Thanks.” you mumble. She squeezes you and rubs your back affectionately.

You end up finishing out the week in Penelope’s apartment, using Sunday to deliberate your plan of attack for when you finally see him again. All the questions, insults, and doubt are written down in your notes app to help you organize your thoughts. But there’s no real organization, because what category does this even fall into?

You text Spencer a couple hours before that you’d be willing to talk to him now if he was free, and not even a second later he replies telling you to come over whenever.

The walk to his apartment feels like edging closer to the end of a plank that you willingly got on. The dread presses on you heavier and heavier with every step, and soon enough you’re standing at his door with a boulder on your shoulders.

The soft knocks echo through Spencer’s barren living room, and his head snaps to the door. He’s not sure if he’s mentally prepared for this, but he wipes his eyes and ruffles his hair stressfully and goes to open the door.

It’s like a truck hit him seeing you right in front of him, puffy red eyed and looking so defeated, nothing like the girl he knew.

“Hey,” Spencer breathes out.

“Hi, can I come in?” you reply.

Spencer stands aside to let you in, “Of course, yeah.”

You walk into his apartment, feeling a strange sensation wash over you. The familiarity of his bookshelves and antique chess boards provides you with a comfort you wish you had over the last week. But right now it feels like someone placed barbed wire over it all, enticing you to get closer lest you get hurt.

Spencer stands awkwardly in the door, watching you trek about his apartment before finding a seat on his leather couch. He shuts the door and sits in the adjacent arm chair, not knowing if you’d be okay with him even sitting on the same couch as you.

You clear your throat, “How’s your mom?”

“She’s good, she’s settled in the sanitarium.” he says with a slight tone of relief you knew he hadn’t had in weeks.

“Good, good,” you trail off and avoid his eyes, “Um, so obviously, I came because we need to…talk.” Spencer nods and waits for you to continue.

“I don’t even know how to start. But, I am hurt. I don’t know how to process this, or even get to the root of this.”

“Cat was lying.”

“No, she wasn’t.”

He furrows his brows, “Yes, she was. She lies about everything, that’s her game.”

You avoid his eyes, “No Spencer, that’s just what you want to tell yourself.”

“Baby—“

“You don’t get to call me that right now.”

That hits him bad. He takes a moment to take in your appearance, how you’re picking at your skin, repeatedly brushing your fingers through your hair and picking the strands that fall out. You’re trying so hard to be brave, he can tell. It breaks his heart.

“How am I supposed to convince you I’m telling the truth when you won’t even look at me?” he says with a slight edge of annoyance.

“You don’t get to be upset, Spencer! Don’t give me that crap—“

“I’m not upset, I just want to fix this! Maeve is gone, as far as it goes she might as well be an ex-girlfriend. The same way that I don’t get worked up over your ex boyfriends.”

“That is not nearly the same thing. You didn’t get to see her, Spencer. She didn’t even get a chance to be your girlfriend,” you huff, Spencer’s eyes start welling up as your voice lowers, “How am I supposed to believe that you still love me, when you’re thinking of another woman when you’re with me?”

Whatever color was left in his face has drained out of his feet, the swirl of emotions bombarding him senselessly. 

He’s upset, he’s mad, embarrassed, tired, shameful. He’s feeling hopeless, he wants to just drag you to his sock drawer where that little box sits and show you exactly how serious he is about his love for you. But he knows that would be a cop out, and you wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t believe himself either.

“Do you think we’re the same?” you ask, pulling him out of his thoughts. You’ve stood up and started pacing the living room, unable to sit still.

“No! God no, you are so much more than she ever was.”

“Are you just saying that because I’m sitting in front of you, alive?”

He’s taken aback by your bluntness. You’re nearing the end of your resolve, and truth be told, you’re just mad at this point.

“Every time we’ve kissed, we’ve been in bed together, anytime you’ve shown any affection towards me, you were thinking of that…that bitch.” you spit out with venom.

Spencer snaps his head at you without missing a beat, “Don’t call her that.”

Your face drops, “Or what?”

He doesn’t say a word.

Calling a dead woman a bitch is beyond any morals you’d set for yourself, but this situation is one you could have never predicted. Doubling down you step closer, “I called Maeve a bitch, Spencer. And I meant it. Now what are you going to do?”

Spencer swallows grimly, “You can be pissed at me all you want but there’s no need to act…irrational over past things.”

“My boyfriend is thinking of his dead ex girlfriend when he’s fucking me! I don’t know what part of this you expect me to act rational about!” you scream.

He flinches at your raised voice, knowing you were completely valid. Spencer hates that he feels he deserves pity right now, that he can’t help how the grief manifested in him and confused itself with the love he has for you. He loved Maeve, past tense, or maybe he loved the idea of her considering he never got the chance to actually prove it. 

He loves you. Loves—present term. And he has the chance to prove it every single day.

Yet, he still fucked up.

He stands up, “I don’t…think about her when you and I are doing anything. I swear.” he pleads blankly.

“Bullshit.”

He breathes out, “Sweetheart…I don’t know how to prove this to you. I love you, always you.”

You hardened your face despite your heart clenching, “Cat wouldn’t use that against you if she knew it wouldn’t work.”

Spencer’s face drops. He knows you’re right, Cat even told him the evidence that proves it.

A full three minutes of silence pass by before Spencer decides to speak up.

“It happened one time.”

Your glass heart shatters, “…When?”

“When we went to New York for that weekend between cases.” he recounts reluctantly, “It just slipped into my mind a—and I didn’t realize it at first. But once I did I asked you to stop immediately.”

Tears are free falling down your face, “Is that supposed to make me feel better? That you asked me to stop?”

“No—no it’s just me telling you what happened…It was…around the time of the anniversary of that day. So it was in my brain, and I guess it just…” he trails off.

“It just made you want to fuck Maeve?”

Spencer rubs his face with stress, “No, it didn’t. It made me realize that what I couldn’t have with her, I have with you and it’s a billion times better than I could have imagined.”

Your heavy breathes fill the room, and Spencer takes a daring step closer to you.

“I’m sorry, angel. I really am truly sorry. But I love you. I love you more than anything. I fucked up and I should have been honest with you. I’m sorry.”

For Maeve, for Mexico, for not being able to prove that you are the most important person in the world to me.

A soft whine escapes your throat, Spencer feels his heart shatter now, joining the scattered pieces of yours on the floor.

“I—I want to believe you Spencer, I really do,” you sniffle.

He feels the smallest glimmer of hope as you continue, “I don’t know how to move forward from this, I don’t know if I can.”

“I’ll prove it to you, I swear. I’ll spend every day proving that I love you, and showing you that you deserve the world and that I’ll try my hardest to give it to you,” he swallows and takes a deep breath before continuing, “Things like this don’t happen to me, people like you don’t happen to me. You are once in a lifetime. I don’t deserve any chances from you, but I promise to spend the rest of my life showing you how much you mean to me.” Spencer finishes with a tear rolling down his cheek.

A hiccuped sob escapes you and Spencer really wants to come closer and comfort you, but knows that that is quite literally the last thing you need right now. You angrily wipe at your face, battling your conflicting feelings on what the fuck is the right thing to do for you.

You realize that the truly sad part of all of this, is that you still love him. No betrayal could ever sway how you feel about him you think, and this seems to be the biggest one you can think of.

“I feel used, Spencer. Like I was a placeholder for something you didn’t even know you wanted.”

He pleads your name, “Never ever in my life have you been a placeholder for anything.”

“Well, at that moment in New York, I was.”

He shuts his mouth and bows his head like a cornered dog.

“I just want to feel like it’s me that you want,” you whisper to no one, “I just want to be enough. Why can’t it be me, Spencer?”

“It is you, it’s always you angel.”

You take a deep breath and let out, “I’ll believe it when I see it.” and you turn to walk out the door.

Spencer is left on the other side of the closing door, the shut of it echoing throughout his empty apartment. He pulls his phone out to text Penelope to expect you, and then drops on his couch.

Spencer knows many things, and while he has had his stupider moments, with all the certainty and truth in the world you are the love of his life. He won’t go down without a fight for you, because he’d always fight for you. Especially when you’re the one fighting him, he will always fight for you.

[bitchylittlevictorianchild]

I just got out of military training for school, and let me tell you something. Just as much as COs push their companies/squads/what-have-you to their absolute limits...they also have an indomitable sense of humor that they will push onto their subordinates.

In other words, all those fics in the CoD Fandom about any character taking their anger/sadness/what-have-you out on their company by pushing them extra are true to an extent. But there is also the opposite side of that coin, which is this: COs often fuck around with their company and take out their good emotions on them. Which has the potential to be very, very funny.

Examples:

Soap: Private, when I say "Pop your shit, twin." you will drop that thang Magic Mike style, is that understood?

---

Ghost, with a thousand-yard-stare: Take this disposable plastic fork. It is now an inspectable item to be kept on your person at all times. You will give it a name starting with L.

---

Gaz, leading his company in a march: When I give the command, you will left-face and post an L at Delta Company, understood?

Price, leading Delta Company: Recruits! Right-face and flip off Bravo Company, am I clear?

---

Soap: Private? Who is the General of the sassy man apocalypse?

Recruit: Sir, Lieutenant Riley, sir!

Soap: Very well.

---

Ghost: Recruits! Do you think...that Sergeant Mactavish...is pretty?

Soap, posing like a 50s pinup: Recruits, say ooh! Say ahh!

---

Gaz: Private...you have IBS?

Recruit: Sir, I think so, sir.

Gaz, monotone: Me too. One time, I made the mistake of eating Taco Bell while inebriated. I cried on the toilet the whole night.

Price, walking the hallway behind him, trying not to laugh: LOCK IT UP!!

Gaz: From now on, your nickname will be Private Midshitman.

---

Ghost, yelling a jodie: Now, from the top!

Recruits, responding: Make it drop!

Ghost: That's a-?

Recruits: WAP!

Ghost: THAT'S A-?

Recruits: WAP!

--

Gaz, too tired to PT: Recruits, fall out on my command, and griddy into the barracks.

[seraphinitegames]

Hello! I've got a question about Rebecca I've been dying to ask for ages! I've thought about this on and off for a long time while playing through the books, especially when deciding how my MC should feel towards their relationship. Did Rebecca purposefully drown herself in her career to avoid being a mother to the detective (choose to neglect the MC), or was Rebecca really unable to escape work? (Sorry this is long, I've had lots of thoughts brewing) The first seems the obvious answer to me. Considering that the MC is at least in their mid 20s, it's been over twenty years since Rook's death. And it is clear in the books that to this day just the mention of Rook weakens her to her knees. It seems to me that his death was so overwhelming, she didn't have the energy to be a mother to the MC, and overworked herself to avoid processing and thinking about her pain, abandoning her child (to a nanny)... and then did that into the MC's adulthood. It was stated sometime in the books, maybe book two or three I don't remember, that working with Unit Bravo, and simultaneously Rebecca, has been the most time the detective has ever spent with their mother. And that speaks volumes! Now, it was never mentioned that Rebecca was forced to be a handler and work away from home all the time. She had the power to step down from the council. So, she could have chosen some sort of stable job within the agency that allowed her to still be an active mother. But she didn't. She didn't even take a single holiday off to spend time with the MC (mentioned in the holiday book) and left them to the neighbors for Christmas! And this fact hasn't been mentioned explicitly, which is why I wonder. (Excluding the holiday book stuff obvi since its not in the main canon technically) The MC can express being upset because Rebecca was absent many times, but the main issue the story focused on, at least in book one (which makes sense for that point of the story) was how the MC felt about Rebecca lying to them about the nature of her job. Which I feel is a reasonable lie. I feel my MC would care more about why she was absent rather than that she kept her career a secret, though. Or, to make myself more clear, I feel the issue of Rebecca keeping secrets and lying about her career was discussed more in depth in the books rather than why Rebecca was absent, and whether it was a choice, and I wish I could express that in the story and be angry about it. And have Rebecca own up to it and apologize for being absent. But maybe we'll get to that later in the story, idk. If this is the exact reason for Rebecca's absence, that is. Thanks for listening to my ted talk. And for your response, if you end up doing so. And thank you so much for writing the Wayhaven Chronicles! I've enjoyed it so much, and I look forward to book 4 and the following future books! (I wanna marry Morgan so bad T_T)

This is such a good question, as well as reasonings!

You've actually hit it all on the head pretty perfectly! :D

Rebecca's reason for being absent is grief, for sure, and this is coming into play in a MAJOR way sooner than you might expect, and something you can tackle.

Rebecca would prefer the focus on the MC's upset or annoyance (if their is any for the MC, depending on how you're playing them) than on the fact that she lied to them about the Agency than even touch on the reason for why she threw herself into her work. But that can't last…

I hope this makes sense, but it certainly will as we go deeper into the books!

Thank you so much for the ask and the amazing message! <3

[margindoodles2407]

YOU

YOU GET IT

The thing about me is I will, at any point of the day, stop whatever I'm doing to drawl, "Ooooh, meteor shower" in Hevy's voice.

[cherry-leclerc]

the red high heels ☆ cs55

genre: humor, secret relationship, leclerc!twins

word count: 1.9k

It's 2am and Charles is desperate to find you. Who better to help look for you than his teammate?

req... guys, i literally wrote different versions of this request at least 5 times...anyways, hope you enjoy a quick one :)

Groaning, Carlos stands up from his bed, making his way to the door. It’s 2 am and he was far too comfortable until he was rudely interrupted. Opening the door, he sees a despaired Charles, dark under eyes evident. “Charles? Are you okay, man?” His voice is raw and croaky almost. His teammate shakes his head, then nods.

“Fuck, it’s just that…my sister. Mate, I don’t know where she is.” Hearing this, the Spaniard narrows his eyes, all of a sudden awake. 

“What do you mean you don’t know?” 

“Well, I checked her room, I called her and nothing. We’re supposed to be leaving for the airport in an hour!” 

Carlos stays still for a moment. “Okay, I’ll help you look for her, she can’t be too far out. She’s not like that.” The Monegasque nods slowly before beginning to slump his way into the room. Carlos sprints after him.

“Oh! Um…How about you wait outside? It’s just that the room is so messy.” Turning his gaze, he points to the spotless room. Charles frowns. 

“Carlos, this has got to be the cleanest room I’ve ever seen in my entire life.” He scrunches his nose before waving his hands in his teammates direction. “Hurry and put on a shirt so we can leave.” With tight lips, he nods. He’s slow about it too, the way he makes his way to his suitcase. Opening it, it’s empty. He slightly curses himself for being too much of a neat freak that he just had to organize his clothes into the small closet. “Some girl kept your shirt?” Charles' smile is teasing as he sends over a playful wink. Carlos winces.

“Of course not! Just have to…” He points over to the closet that is on the other side of the room. He pats his face. “You know what? I think I’m going to put my shoes on first! I’ll be quick, if you want we can meet outside.” 

“It’s no big deal. I can wait. I mean you are helping me after all.” The brown eyed man wants to yell when a kind smile tugs at Charles’ lips. Get out, get out, get outttt. 

“Of course.” Leaning down to grab his Golden Goose under the bed he takes a deep breath. His heart is beating so fast, he thinks it might leap out of his chest. Charles is talking, but all is unclear as Carlos reaches down. He quickly relaxes when he finds his shoes. He lets out a shaky breath.

“Oh no. Is your age getting the best out of you?” Charles snickers as Carlos grunts before sitting beside him, slipping on his shoes ever so slowly. Charles is growing impatient, he could tell. This was good.

“So, um, where do you think she is?” Carlos questions as he unties his other shoe. Charles hums.

“You know what? I have a feeling she’s not that far…Twin telepathy.” The broody man rolls his eyes as Charles shares a thoughtful glance. He laughs. “Call it what you want, but that shit exists.” 

“I bet.”

The green eyed boy furrows his brows at Carlos’ clumsy fingers playing with his laces. He desperately huffs. “Do you need help or something?”

“Almost got it…” The white strings become undone for what seems the millionth time before he finally gets the grips of it. Bravo, Charles mutters. 

“Coming back to what you were saying, what do you mean by twin telepathy?” Carlos stands up making his way to his empty suitcase again but Charles doesn’t even seem to notice as he becomes entertained by his bracelets. 

“Oh, well, it’s real. I feel like she can’t be that far. How else do you think I would win at tag when we were younger?” He raises an eyebrow over his teammate. He continues with a now moody face. “Though, something else tells me she’s with someone, y’know?” Carlos chokes as he turns to face Charles. I don’t, he squeaks out. “It’s just that I’ve had this feeling that she might be seeing someone from the grid. I told her not to and she said she would never, but I don’t know why I could never really believe her. Plus, she’s oddly been attached to her phone a tad bit too much.”

Just then Carlos’ phone rings. They both shoot their eyes to the bright light that shines in the middle of the messy bed sheets. Reaching out, Charles grabs it before handing it over. You should probably answer. Hastily, he takes it. 

Get. Him. Out.

He coughs as he slips his phone into his back pocket. “Hey, why don’t you start looking for her without me? I swear I’ll be out in a minute.”

“I don’t know where else to look, I’ve tried everywhere! Just hurry so we can brainstorm ideas. I swear to God when I find her-” A light thud echoes the small room as he cocks his head to the side in attentiveness. He raises his hand to his ear. “Did you hear that?”

The Spaniard immediately goes to rub his elbow. “I just hit my arm, that’s all.” 

“Be careful, mate.” He stands up. “Okay grab your shirt.”

“Mierda. I can’t find it.” But that's a lie because just a couple of feet behind Charles, it lies. Right next to a pair of red heels. Charles' eyes roam the room with a slightly annoyed expression before spotting it. Picking it up, he pauses. When he turns around he wears a toothy grin.

“Oh shit! You have a girl over! That’s why you went all shy!” He picks up the heel. “That’s crazy. Looks just like my sisters. Girls just have the same taste these days…”

Carlos quickly grabs the shirt from him before snatching the heel back too. “I-I didn’t–I mean I did, but she left! She must have forgotten her sh–” The words tumble past his lips so fast that he doesn’t notice how Charles’ expression has dropped.

The red high heel could have been anyones, true, but not everyone had your initials at the bottom. He knows since he was the one who had gifted them to you as a birthday present. You had begged for months.

“Hope you shut up now that you have them,” he says as you smile down at the designer heels. You nod happily. 

“I promise I’ll take care of them, Charlie! So sweet, I mean, you even added a nice detail!”

He’s fuming, but he’s also confused. “You motherfucker–”

“It’s just a shoe, mate!” Carlos' voice cracks in nervousness as his teammate strolls his way over. The Monegasque quickly grabs Carlos’ collared shirt as he pushes him against the closet. His body thuds as he groans. 

“Where’s my sister?” His harsh glare doesn’t equal his tone and that scares Carlos just a tiny…lot. 

“I don’t know! Let’s go look for her!” He tries to pry Charles’ hands off, but this only makes him push him back against the wood, harder. He cringes.

“Stop lying.” When Carlos looks down and doesn’t respond, he doesn’t think twice as he starts to bang his body against the brown doors. It shakes so much that the closet starts to get slightly unbalanced. And then…

It tips over.

Reacting quickly, Charles swiftly pulls Carlos away as they both fall onto the floor. The closet falls with a loud thud as they both gasp. But Carlos is quick to try to lift it up. “Calm down, it’s just a closet-”

“Fuck you, your sister is inside!”

Charles’ eyes go wide as he runs over to help his teammate. Finally, once it’s stood up correctly, they open the doors in a hurry. You moan as you rub your head.

“You both are so fucking innsufferable.” Your eyes are screwed shut when you reach your arm out for help. Your boyfriend is about to help you but your brother beats him to it. He leads you to the bed as you curl into a ball. “Oh God, I think I have a concussion.”

“We should take her to the hospital,” Carlos says as Charles bites down onto his nails. He agrees. They care, of course they do, but they’re not smooth about it.

“You grab her head and I’ll grab her legs.” Charles instructs as Carlos nods. 

“No!” You sit up straight as you crawl further away from them. “I’m fine.” 

“Amor, you should get checked out-”

“I don’t like that nickname. Stop it.” Charles mutters as he crosses his arms. You ignore him.

“Seriously, I’m fine. All your clothes saved me.” He lets out a sarcastic laugh as you giggle. Charles can’t help but glare at both of you.

“Okay, since you’re feeling well, then we should leave. Now.” 

“No.”

His gaze sharpens as you cuddle your legs to your chest. “Stop being a brat. Let’s go.” He reaches out for you but you only kick his arms away. I’ll leave with Carlos, you bicker back. “Just shut up. Let’s. Go.” He reaches out to grab your legs as he starts to drag you towards him, but you’re kicking and screaming so loud that he lets go to cover his ears. He almost loses it when you run over to Carlos as you hug him like your favorite teddy bear.

“You can go. I want to leave with Carlos.”

He clicks his tongue as he places his hands on his hips. He taps his shoe. “Listen, say goodbye or whatever you want, but you are not going anywhere with him.” You shake your head. Carlos sighs as he places a kiss to the top of your head.

“I think he’s right.” 

I don’t need your help controlling my sister, Charles wants to warn him but he doesn’t when he notices you deflate, furthermore. “No, I want to stay with you. I can deal with him later.” The Spaniard unties your hands from his waist before he leans down to place a kiss on your cheek.

“No, you should listen to your brother.” You know he isn’t breaking up with you, but perhaps a bang to the head has you slightly sensitive. Tears slowly fill up your eyes.

“Do you not want me anymore?” Your voice is small and he wants to punch himself for causing so much confusion. He’s about to say, you know I always do, but decides not to answer when he looks up at Charles, who stands by quietly.

“I…”

Charles awkwardly clears his throat as he twists his heel. You muster up the dirtiest stare possible as you say, “What do you want now?” He winces at your tone as he exhales in defeat.

“You can stay.” You narrow your eyes as you let out a wobbly smile. Are you serious? He nods as Carlos smiles at him in thankfulness. “But we spoke about this so many times, didn’t we? I always warned you that relationships like this take lots of taking care of, that's the main reason why I was always so against it, never because I didn’t want to see you happy.” His eyes flicker to Carlos, who’s attention remains on you. 

“I know that, but I don’t care. I’m willing to learn.”

“I know you are. And you.” He points sharply at the Spaniard. “I can’t believe you went behind my back! That’s my sister!” Calm down, you plead. “You know what, we’re twins, so I hope you think of me when you kiss her-”

The room goes silent as you stare back with wide eyes. Once a single giggle is let out, a string only follows as you hurl over laughing. “That’s so wrong!” Charles blushes.

“Forget I said anything, just…Be careful and treat her right.”

Carlos bobs his head as he hugs you from behind and you lean into his touch with a glow Charles has never seen on you. 

“I swear to God I will always do that.”

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

private collection

Summary: Dieter asks you, his PA turned girlfriend, to take a video of him to help promote the project of a friend of his. He makes sure to thank you for it afterwards.

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x fem. reader

Wordcount: 2.3k

Rating: E

Warnings: based on that damn instagram dancing snippet, flirting, dancing, established relationship, kissing, smut (unprotected sex; oral sex f receiving), cum play, making some private videos, sneak of a bj at the end

follow @toomanystoriessolittletime-fics and turn on notifications to get notified when I post new fics

A/N: look, I had to. Somebody stop this man keep going. Used @iamasaddie's gif as Inspo (hope that's okay! Tumblr apparently won't let me message anyone from this account some reason 🥲) cause I suck at all things graphic design. Merry Crisis!

Full Masterlist // Dieter Bravo Masterlist

The night was coming to an end and you were tired. 

Dieter had insisted you come with him to a get together with some of his friends who were in town to promote their newest projects. Of course all of them knew that you were much more than just the PA the outside world knows you as.

You had been dating on and off for around four years. What started as a… mutual quarantine friends with benefits kinda situation turned into something more throughout the last year. You had been with him through his final successful rehab and you couldn’t be prouder of him being sober for almost two years now. By now you were living together, but keeping it all lowkey. You were still working as his PA, but not for that much longer. 

You’d start working at Dieter’s new production company as an production assistant in the next year. You had always wanted to work in that field, being Dieter’s PA and the pandemic only delaying your goal by a bit.

Not that you were mad about it.

Sure, you would still technically work for Dieter, but not like you did now. You would work for the COO of the company and not for Dieter directly. 

„Come dance with my baby,“ he gave you one of those smiles he knew you couldn’t resist, his friends already on their feet, music loud in the background as Dieter held his hand out for you. Knowing you couldn’t say no to him you took his hand and let him pull you up and into the middle of the room. 

It was a small private bar in some fancy restaurant, the only people around his friends and one bartender. Crossing your arms behind his neck, feelings his arms, his hands on your back you let him sway you to the music, his chest against yours. 

„You look really pretty tonight,“ he hummed with a small smile, kissing your forehead. 

„Thank you. My man got this dress for me,“ you grinned softly, your fingers playing with the soft hair in the back of his neck. It was just a black sweater dress he had surprised you with the week before.

„He got good taste, your man,“ he grinned back and you nodded. 

„He got his moments,“ you teased and he chuckled, swaying your bodies to the song. 

„Thank you for coming with me tonight. I know you wanted to stay in. But it was nice having you here with me. And I promise we will stay in for the whole weekend and do whatever you want,“ he said and you smiled at him. 

„Love you,“ you smiled softly and he mumbled a love you too, before he kissed you softly. 

You continued to dance for another two songs, one slow song, and one where Dieter attempted to teach you how to actually dance to the beat, but you were a lost cause, you both ending in a fit of giggles before he tells you that he wants to head home. 

You agreed, wanting to use the restroom before.

„Baby, you gotta help us,“ he called out to you when you came back into the room. With a raised eyebrow and a small smile you walked towards Dieter and his three remaining friends. 

„With what?“ You asked.

„Wanna promote his movie and had an idea,“ Dieter said, nodding towards one of his friends.

„Okay?“ You nodded, a little confused. 

„But these suckers can’t stop laughing while filming so you gotta,“ he winked and now you were intrigued. 

„What exactly am I going to be filming?“ You playfully narrowed your eyes. 

„Just little old me, dancing towards the camera while this song play,“ he shrugged innocently but you could see his eyes sparkling with mischief. 

You actually listened to the song, lips parting as you recognised it. Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth you looked up at Dieter before you playfully rolled your eyes, holding your hand out for his phone. He kissed your nose softly before he walked back towards the other side of the room while someone put the song on repeat and turned it louder. 

„How slutty is this going to be?“ You asked with a small grin as you searched through his phone for the camera app. 

„Oh you know me, baby. Just the right amount,“ he winked at you and you chuckled before you straightened up, watching him with a smile as you pressed record. 

„Do your worst then, Bravo,“ you challenged and he danced towards you, smoulder full on, his eyes on you behind the phone as he moved his body, pulling his arms up, hands towards his face as he danced closer towards you. You bit your lip as you watched him, asking yourself how you got so lucky to get to call him yours when his lips twitched into a smile as he was close to you, his hands coming to rest on your hips as he kissed your cheek, your skin suddenly flushed at his little performance. You chuckled as you stopped the video before you tilted your chin up to kiss him softly. 

„Let’s get out of here?“ He asked and you nodded.

You used the way home to edit his social media posts, taking a little longer than usual to edit the clip of him dancing, cutting the last part of him kissing you out. 

„Gotta say this video hits different cause I get to experience just how well you can move your hips on an almost daily basis,“ you said with a small smile and felt Dieter look at you from the drivers seat. 

„Aren’t you a lucky girl?" He teased and you looked up at him. 

„Can’t argue with that,“ you sighed with a dreamy smile and felt his hand on your thigh the next moment. You were finished with editing by the time Dieter parked his car in his garage. 

„You wanna look or should I just post?“ You asked. 

„Just post it,“ he said. 

„You sure? Pretty sure that video could qualify as foreplay,“ you grinned and he chuckled. 

„Merry Christmas to everyone watching then,“ he winked before he got out of the car. As he rounded the car to open your door, you hit post, putting his phone into your purse as you let him help you out of the car. 

„How do you feel about some actual foreplay upstairs?“ He asked before he kissed you as soon as you were out of the car, your back leaning against the car door. 

„Pretty sure you could just fuck me right here from how wet it made me to watch this video two hundred times while editing,“ you mumbled against his lips, feeling his twitch into a smile. 

„While I’d love to do just that,“ he whispered, one of his hands tilting you head up, the palm of his hand caressing your cheek. 

„I really want you to sit on my face,“ he winked before he pulled you into his house.

„Oh my god, Dieter,“ you gasped, your fingers wrapped around the wooden headboard in front of you, Dieter’s arms wrapped around your thighs, his head between them as he ate you out. 

He really did not waste any time to get you to sit on his face as soon as you made it upstairs, stripping down himself then you quickly, before pulling you on top of him. 

His tongue was merciless, playing with your pussy like only he could, bringing you closer and closer towards your first orgasm. One of his arms let go of your thigh, his hand coming up to play with your tits, palm squeezing one of them softly. 

„Shit, baby. Right there, suck on my clit,“ you moaned, crying out when he did just that, your walls clenching around nothing seconds later as your orgasm washed over you, your lips parted with a satisfied smile, head thrown back as you rode it out, one of your hands coming down to slip into his hair as he continued to lick into you. 

Finally you looked down, finding his dark eyes already fixed on you and you slipped down his chest, his hands coming to rest on your hips as you straddled his, slowly rubbing your drenched pussy over his cock. 

„You’re so fucking sexy, baby,“ he said as he licked his lips and you grinned before you leaned down to meet his lips in a sloppy kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. 

„Want you to ride my cock baby, please,“ he whined between kisses, as you continued to slip his cock through your wet folds. 

„Yeah?“ You teased against his lips. 

„Fuck, yes please,“ he whimpered, his hands kneading your ass as he helped you move on top of him. You loved how needy he got sometimes.

„What if I really want to suck your cock?“ You asked and he groaned. 

„Later. Wanna be inside you now,“ and you hadn’t it in you to tease him any longer, sitting yourself up and wrapping your hand around his cock to line him up. 

You both moaned when you sunk down on him, every inch of his thick cock stretching you perfectly just like it did since the first time you had fucked until you were sitting on top of him, cock deep inside of you. 

„Shit, your pussy is so fucking perfect,“ Dieter moaned and you smiled down at him. His eyes on your tits before he looked up into your eyes. 

„All of you is fucking perfect,“ he moved his hips beneath you and you gasped. With both of your hands on his chest you began to move on top of him, first rolling your hips before you slowly began to ride his cock.

„Feels so good, Dieter,“ you moaned softly, enjoying the way his cock was stretching you out. 

„Yeah?“ He asked, both of his hands on your tits, playing with them. You sucked your bottom lip in, nodding as you began to move faster, bouncing on his cock. He began to move too, thrusting up into you to meet you halfway, the sound of skin smacking against skin filling the room. 

„You close?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„Good girl. Use my cock and make yourself cum. It’s yours,“ he groaned and you moaned. 

„Wanna fuck you from behind after you cum, shoot my cum all over your back,“ he said, his eyes on you as he fucked up into you harder. 

„Oh fuck,“ you moaned, arching your back as your second orgasm rushed through you, your hands covering Dieter’s that were still on your tits as you slowly rode it out. 

As you breathed deeply you looked down at Dieter with a fucked out smile on your lips. 

„Hands and knees baby,“ he winked up at you and you sighed before you got up from him and let Dieter help you get you on your hands and knees, still feeling a little wobbly from your second orgasm, his cock back inside of you within seconds. He grabbed his pillow, pushing it under your chest and you let yourself fall down even further, your ass up in the air as he fucked into you. 

„You good?“ He asked and you nodded. 

„Use me, baby,“ you said, the side of your head on the mattress, wiggling your ass playfully and he slapped it twice. 

„Tell me if it gets to much,“ he said and you nodded, crying out at the next moment as he began to fuck you with hard, deep thrusts. Somehow he felt even deeper like this and it was like you could feel him everywhere as he pumped himself into you, the bed squeaking beneath you with how hard he was fucking you. 

It felt so fucking good, Dieter knowing just how he had to touch you to make you feel good.

„Oh fuck I’m gonna cum,“ he groaned and you nodded desperately. 

„Cum for me baby,“ you whined, already feeling his cock twitching inside of you before he pulled out. You turned your head to look up at him, his hand jerking off his cock, a long groan escaping his lips before you felt the first rope of his cum on your back. His eyes were closed, head thrown back as he milked himself dry and you hummed with a tired smile, his eyes opening when he finished, finding yours. 

With a fucked out smile he looked down at you before he looked at the mess he made of you. Leaning down you gasped when you felt his tongue run up your spine, licking himself off before your felt one of his hand on your arm, finding yourself on your back moments later with him towering over you, his lips meeting you in a messy almost desperate kiss, both of you moaning as you shared the taste of his cum. 

„Your so fucking filthy,“ you mumbled against his lips with a grin. 

„You love it,“ he grinned back and you  kissed him again, your arms crossing behind his back and he landed on top of you with a surprised huff. 

„I really fucking do,“ you agreed with a laugh. 

The next morning, you were only wearing his shirt form last night, you sneakily filmed him in his kitchen as he made breakfast for you, wearing only some very low hanging grey sweatpants. 

You filmed him as he danced through the kitchen, Christmas lights hanging on his kitchen window as Wham’s „Last Christmas“ played in the background. Excited for the first Christmas you would spend as a couple.

And much later it was Dieter who filmed you, him with a Christmas hat on and you, with his cock down your throat. 

But those videos would remain private. 

For just you and him.