#hi clu!! hope you liked this! <3

[apparently-artless]

✵✺❂ JUJUTSU KAISEN S02 ◉ GOJO SATORU ❂✺✵

dedicated to Clu (@gojoed)

#jjk #jjkedit #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #anime #anime gif #animeedit #animangaboys #fyanimegifs #gifset #usertorichi #userdabiluna #userinahochi #usersophies #tuserelena #usernikiforova #useradrienne #userokkottsus #artsgifs #long post #hi clu!! hope you liked this! <3 #you're probably surprised by this post but seriously this is just waaaaaay long overdue lol #and it took me a while to realize that you already changed your url #anyways this is just a smol gift for you ^^ #thank you for appreciating my edits! <3

[dollfacefantasy]

Like Lovers Do

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: Bored with the RPD's fundraising banquet, you pull Leon away to have some fun in a storage closet.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, public sex, friends with benefits

word count: 2.1k

a/n: the chris and leon drabble is next i swear. i just change my mind like every five seconds lmao. i hope everyone enjoys :) as always, i appreciate all the reblogs and comments <3

Applause sounds throughout the banquet hall as Leon flashes his awkward smile. He holds up the small, cheap trophy he’d won, the words Rookie of the Year displayed on the plaque at the base. He’s quick to walk away from the microphone and exit the stage, returning to his seat next to you. Your boss takes his place, but your attention is consumed by him.

“Wow. I see how it is. Don’t even mention me in your speech for your prestigious award,” you say in a hushed voice, a grin spreading across your features.

His cheeks tinge pink as his own smile graces your vision. “I did mention you. I said my partner,” he responds, “Plus, don’t act like you really care about these things.”

You roll your eyes playfully. It was true. You didn’t care about the little superlatives the department gave out for entertainment at the annual fundraising banquet. But that wouldn’t stop you from complaining about your loss to Leon and his perceived lack of appreciation for you.

“I do care actually. And I guess that’s true, but it wasn’t very specific,” you say, “If I’d won, I would have mentioned you.”

Now it’s his turn to roll his eyes as he shakes his head. “My sincerest apologies,” he says, connecting his eyes with yours.

Just seeing him like this was getting you all worked up. He looked as handsome as you’d ever seen him in his suit. You’d also been wanting to ditch this thing for a while now. You’d shown up and said hi to everyone as you were expected to do. Now you’d grown tired of watching your colleagues galavant around with their dates and swap stories from the job.

“Hmmm… well you know. I think I have a way you could make it up to me,” you say, keeping your voice quiet to not catch the attention of anyone sitting near you.

Leon raises an eyebrow, but of course, he knew exactly what you meant. You both were insatiable for one another. That small lilt in your voice alone clued him in. You’d almost conditioned him to pop a boner when he heard it.

“Do you?” he teases back.

“Mhm,” you nod, rubbing your hand up and down his thigh beneath the table, “Follow me in a couple minutes.”

You rise from your seat. You make sure to be quiet and not draw any attention to yourself, but your hands still rest on your stomach, giving the appearance that you’re suffering some sort of sudden illness. You walk away from the tables and over to the hallway doors, the points of your heels softly clicking against the ground as you go.

Once you’re out, you turn back and watch Leon through the little slit of a window in the door. You see him wait for a few minutes and then look around as if he’s concerned for where you’ve gone. Then he rises in the same way you did and makes his way to the same set of doors.

As he opens them, a giggle bursts from your lips and you pull his body against your own. The two of you lean in for a few kisses. “Nice work, superstar. I’m sure the next thing you’ll be winning is an oscar,” you tease.

“Shut up,” he grumbles as that blush grows a little stronger. He nips at your bottom lip and deepens the kiss before you pull away to walk further down the hall.

The RPD held this event at this place every single year. It was the first for both you and Leon, both freshly graduated. You look around curiously at your surroundings as you head to another door near the ones you’d entered from. You notice the hallway lined with academy graduation photos. Upon closer examination, you spot yourself in the one hanging next to the new door 

“Aww, we look so young here,” you coo, looking at the framed picture of your and Leon’s class. 

A chuckle comes from over your shoulder before you feel him kissing up your neck. “It was only a year ago,” he mumbles.

“Yeah, but you have such a baby face here,” you tease.

“What can I say? A year of working with you has really worn me down,” he replies.

He cracks open the door, and you see inside is just a storage closet. You pull him by the collar of his suit into the small space. He follows eagerly and pushes you up against the wall.

“I’m so sure, Mr. Rookie of the Year,” you taunt, catching him in another kiss.

Your hand slides into his hair, threading through the blonde locks as your lips move with his. Meanwhile, his palms coast up your side, feeling the smooth fabric of your party dress beneath his fingers. His foot knocks into your ankle, a small signal for you to spread your legs.

“Well it’s not so shocking when you consider that I only won because half the time I’m on the job, I’m cleaning up your messes,” he jokes between kisses.

“I think between the two of us, you’re the messy one,” you say back and turn around to deepen the kiss.

His left hand rises to your breast on the same side, squeezing the mound and drawing a tender sigh from you. His right slides down your thigh and lifts your leg by the crux of your knee. He grinds his growing bulge against your panties, a soft moan falling from his lips at the familiar sensation.

This was far from the first time the two of you had done this. It was far from the first time you’d done this with other people only a few rooms away. At work, you’d done it in the bathrooms, the locker room, the dark room, the storage room in the other wing of offices. You’d even done it in Leon’s cruiser once on a boring night. Sometimes it felt surprising you even managed to make it to a secluded place.

You weren’t even fully sure of what you and Leon were to each other. Neither of you had ever put a title on this dance you did. You both let yourselves run on pure lust without much care for fine details. If you were being honest, you were pretty sure you were in love with him. You’d had a crush on him since your first day in the academy. He’d had you hooked on him since the first time you slept together on the night of your graduation in a drunken hurricane of unfiltered desire.

In your heart, not much had changed since that night. The two of you are still wrapped up in a flurry of kisses as he slowly rocks against you, grunting quietly. His eyes flutter shut as he sinks into the feeling of your body around his. Lowering his head, he starts kissing your neck again. Your noises are the same volume as his, just a bit whinier.

“We gotta be quick,” you mumble against the side of his head. You drag your nose against his soft tendrils of hair. A shaky breath blows against the side of his head.

“Don’t worry about that, baby. You heard ‘em out there. I get things done fast and efficiently,” he teases as his lips unlatch from your neck.

The cocky expression on his face only got you hotter. You pull him into a more aggressive kiss, your noses mashing against one another. His breaths fan over your face as his hands tug your panties down to your knees. He then cups both of your legs behind the knees, folding you in half against the wall.

He pins you there with his own weight as he pulls himself out of his pants. His fingers fish a condom out of his pocket and tear the foil quickly before tossing it aside, leaving it for some poor person to find at a later date. You don’t think of that in the moment though. You’re more enraptured with how you can feel the heat of his tip nudging at the wetness between your legs even with the latex barrier between you.

“Put it in,” you whimper and squirm in his grasp. The teasing side of you was fading fast as need took over.

He grins with a mocking look in his eyes, but he obliges you. He slips it in and lets out a deep breath, savoring the way you squeeze around him.

“Think you should’ve won most desperate,” he teases, “Or maybe neediest little slut.”

You go to defend yourself, but all that comes out is a whine. The confident side of him rears its head. It was kind of funny to you how your dynamic would shift once he got you craving his cock. Another mewl escapes you as his hips retract and push forward again.

“What was that? You know I’m right. You couldn’t even wait to get back to your apartment,” he continues.

He begins pumping his hips for real, and all you can get out for a moment are broken whimpers. He fucked you just right, always did. He was blessed with a thick cock that rubbed up against your insides in a way that felt like heaven. Your legs clamp against his sides as your head tilts back against the wall. The thrum of the bass starts vibrating through the cement again, letting you know they had turned on the music again in the other room.

“Fuck Leon…” you breathe before crying out sharply as he rotates his hips to hit your sweet spot.

Your own hand flies to your mouth to cover it and muffle any other noises. He smiles at the sight and kisses your cheek, resting his forehead against your temple.

“That’s right, gotta keep quiet. If anyone walked by and heard, we’d both be getting fucked,” he says and continues rocking the both of your bodies as he thrusts into you.

You nod. Your other arm wraps around him tight to keep yourself supported. You’re starting to sweat, but you can feel that he is too. Fucking fully clothed probably wasn’t the smartest idea either of you had indulged in, but it felt too good for you too honestly care. Your hand slips down of your face as the pleasure takes over a bit more.

“Leon… fuck, I can’t…” you moan softly.

He guides your hand back to your lips before returning his own to your knee to keep you up. His fingers dig into your legs with a bruising grip and he thrusts quicker.

“Yeah? You gonna cum already, baby? That’s pretty fast. Maybe that’s another award you should win,” he pants.

“Shut up,” you mumble against your hand as your hips start involuntarily rolling against his.

Your breasts push up against his chest as your body writhes against the wall. He just keeps going, wanting to work you to the edge you were fast approaching. His shaft slides in and out over and over. You smile as your head spins with the pleasure.

“I feel it coming,” he whispers, “I feel you getting all tight. Just cum for me. Let it out.”

You didn’t need to be told twice. You let the coil inside you snap and moan into the palm of your hand. You buck and bury your head in the crook of his neck. His eyes close, focusing everything he has on his own release. It doesn’t take much longer before he’s attempting to silence his groans against your flesh. His hips jump and his knees quiver for a moment.

He holds inside you for a moment longer, letting the both of you come down before you attempt acting normal again. When that time comes though, he carefully pulls out of you and helps you back onto your feet. Your legs are kind of wobbly, but you maintain your balance. You work on fixing your dress and hair as Leon gets rid of the condom and puts himself back together.

You reach down to pull your panties up, but he stops you, shaking his head and smiling at you.

“Give ‘em to me,” he says.

You stare at him for a moment, in some form of disbelief, but you go with it. You liked the idea just as much as he did. Letting them fall to the floor, you step out of them and then pick them up and place them in his hand. He shoves them into his pocket, smug smirk on his face the whole time.

He then pulls you by your waist for one more kiss. “C’mon, we should go back now. Don’t want anybody thinking we ran off.”

You laugh a little and nod. “We should just run off though,” you say.

“Only a couple more hours and we can. My place or yours, we can go back and replay that all night long,” he says before giving you a smack on the ass and following you back to the hall to return to the party of unknowing guests.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy imagine #leon kennedy smut #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagines #resident evil smut #resident evil x you #smut

[ofstardustanddreaming]

when jealousy happens

headcanon summary: jealousy ensues from astarion and gale in your party, and there's some banter that happens when they both want you.

content warnings: none

fandom: baldur's gate 3

character: astarion x reader, gale x reader

male reader

anon request

you weren't sure when the banter may have truly started to happen, but you definitely remember the first time you were privy to their more public displays of dispute. it happened in camp, when astarion threatened gale with a dagger in his hand, and gale giving threats back with magic from his hands.

you were curious and worried about this potential fight, as was the rest of the camp. but laughter and snide remarks soon erupted from many, including you, when you heard the taunts between the two of them and what clued you all in to what they were fighting about.

they were arguing over you. which, while you did feel flustered over the potential attention that you weren't used to, you thought it was cute. to certain extents at least, because while it was cute at some times, you found that it could be frustrating to deal with in other areas, such as fights. like when astarion would make a snarky remark towards gale when stabbing an enemy; "i'm a much better fighter, it proves i would be a much better protector," and gale retorts with, "i'm a much better defensive attacker, which proves i'm just as good at that position. but who says that he needs a protector, when he does just fine on his own."

it causes strife at times, but it is endearing to have two people fight for your affections. at camp, everyone snickers as gale and astarion fight their way over to you to sleep near you, each taking one side next to you. each one wants to have a last snarky remark before you head to bed, and you groan from under your pillow as you try to get some sleep. you end up having to snap at the both of them to be quiet before you're able to get some sleep, but not before one of them has something to say about the other annoying you. you have to roll your eyes at their goofiness, wondering if you should say something at some point .

because, you are led to wonder when at some point you'll have to make a decision if that's expected. you are worried at some point their arguing would lead to actual bloodshed, wanting to prove themselves to you and trying to outdo each other in their competition. astarion's louder pride compared to gale's more quiet, but still seething pride might not be able to make it out of their banter in one piece. someone was bound to take actual swings at the other if you weren't going to say something soon. shadowheart, karlach, and wyll are the ones you turn to in terms of advice one night.

"i'm just not sure. i have to tell them to quit their bickering soon, right? i'm not wrong in the guess that someone is going to end up murdering the other over me." you tell them, hoping for some sort of wisdom.

"how lucky you are, having two men racing after your heart. how funny it's also been." karlach snickers, with some laughter from the other two as well. "but, i would have to agree. you'll have to make a decision soon, lest one of them really does make a remark that the other can't ignore."

"talk with them at least, give them some terms of things like how long you need to make a decision, so that way banter doesn't eventually lead to something happening." wyll continues off of karlach's opinion, with shadowheart agreeing. karlach eventually nods, clearly thinking about the slight amusement that comes from a potential scuffle.

"is blood what we're talking about? because, if you chose me, you wouldn't have to worry about me feeding from you when you least expect it. this vampire thought he'd be able to steal a quick snack from me, who knows if he'd be able to do it with you?" gale says, overhearing the conversation and coming in to say this to you.

"and he eats magic, it's all really the same, isn't it? and he's eavesdropping." astarion pipes in, with gale glaring his way, proving points that astarion was doing the same thing.

you could only sigh, dragging the two of them to a more secluded area in the woods to give them an earful of what your terms were, wanting to have the time to make a decision in your perilous journey to baldur's gate. (who knows, maybe you'd be able to romance them both, if that's something everyone was open too. if a poly relationship was to be reached, you'd hear more banter than you thought was possible.)

#astarion x reader #astarion x male reader #astarion headcanon #astarion #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 headcanon #gale #gale x reader #gale x male reader #gale headcanon #gale dekarios headcanon #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios x male reader #bg3 #bg3 headcanon #male reader headcanon #male reader

[whimsyfinny]

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader

Summary: Charlie discovers the Winchester boys to be struggling with keeping the bunker tidy, looking after themselves and being able to do their job simultaneously. Luckily she has a friend who’s from a Hunter family that is in need of work and can help them with research. Or so she thought that’s what her job would be. When Dean sees your more domesticated side, his head won’t stop swimming with all the wrong ideas.

Slow burn, enemies to lovers, smut

Warnings: None (Yet) in chapters to come there will be smut (and lots of it) and possible violence/blood/gore

Chapter Word Count: 2803

—-MDNI—-

A/N: My first Supernatural fic so I hope it doesn’t suck ass. Only proof read by myself, so pls let me know of any errors so I can correct! Also I know at this point in the series Dean is more serious, however I love pre-Hell Dean so imma bring some of those vibes in here. This is also posted on my AO3.

——————————————————————

Please read the below first:

Prologue

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

I’m Not Your F*cking Maid

Chapter 3

The rest of that day was pretty uneventful. Charlie practically threw my sad lone duffle bag through the front door and left before I could give her a piece of my mind for just leaving me here. I helped Sam put away the groceries he’d bought, emphasising that ‘we don’t put things down, we put them away’, otherwise we end up living in filth again. I also cleared some space around the study area that seems to be the centre of the bunker, and much to my dismay, threw out even more take-out boxes and beer bottles. I arranged all of the research that had been left on the desk in a mess, organising it into piles of read and unread; or at least what looked read and unread to me. The whole time Dean sat at this very desk and was watching cartoons on Sam’s laptop whilst his brother was in the shower, letting me do all the dirty work as he just sat there and relaxed. When I was finally done, I slumped down in the chair opposite him and slid all of the neat stacks of research towards myself. Dean looked up at me, his relaxed ‘cartoon-watching’ expression fading slightly.

“What are you doing?” He asked. I looked up at him like he was stupid.

“What do you think? I’m catching up on what you guys have been researching.”

He closed the laptop and folded his arms across his chest, the cotton of his flannel pulling tight over his large biceps.

“That’s such a waste of time.”

“And why, pray tell, is it such a waste of time Dean?”

“It’ll take you days, maybe weeks to catch up on what we know - either me or Sam can give you a rundown on what’s most important in an hour,” his tone was very matter-of-fact, like he didn’t want to be argued with. I sighed, crossing my arms on the table in front of me, leaning forwards.

“That’s great, you can still do that, but the more clued up I am as to what is going on then the more chance we have of finding what you need,” I paused for a second, a thought flashing across my mind. “Come to think of it, you haven’t even told me why I’m here, other than to ‘do research’. What are you looking for that has you so stumped?” Dean sucked a breath in through teeth, shifting slightly in his chair.

“The Fist Blade,” his tone had a thickness to it that I couldn’t place.

“The First Blade? As in Cain and Abel? THAT First Blade? ”

“Bingo.”

“But surely that’s long gone by now, it’s been two millennia at least. Nothing can last that long…can it?” I asked almost rhetorically. Dean shrugged.

“That’s what we want to know too,” his eyes flicked up and caught mine, his gaze burning into mine for only a moment with such intensity I felt my breath catch in my chest. The dark purple bruising on his face around his eyes made that forest green even more vibrant and alluring. There was a pause - for some reason I couldn’t look away and I had to catch myself before glancing at his bruised lips, which I knew already were devilishly charming. Right as I gave in to temptation and saw the corner of Deans poor split lip twitch into a smirk, Sam saved the day by striding in, towel-drying his hair. He paused, looked at us and frowned quizzically, almost like he was more surprised that we weren’t throwing furniture at each other. He didn’t say anything on that topic though, because as he looked around he noticed I’d cleaned. Again.

“(Y/n) you really have to stop cleaning up our mess,” he smiled, hanging his towel on the back of his chair as he took a seat next to me, his long legs grazing mine slightly.

“Sam just say ‘thank you’,” I tilted my head up to him - he was still enormous even when he was sitting down. He laughed slightly, almost bashfully as he looked down for a second at his twiddling thumbs before locking his eyes with mine again.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” I returned his smile at last, holding it for a few seconds before continuing: “So Dean has just been explaining to me what you’re looking for. Surely the First Blade is long gone by now? How would it have survived this long, and still be functional - not just some pile of dust?” Sam huffed out an already exasperated breath, slouching back in his chair and crossing his arms over his chest, much like how Dean was sitting.

“I have no idea, at this point I feel like we’re grasping at air,” we all mumbled in agreement, suddenly sitting in a solemn sort of silence. It was short lived though as Sam leant forwards, pushing his damp hair from his eyes and trying to lighten the mood.

“Guys why don’t we just leave it for a few hours and get something for dinner? It’s getting late and we should really eat.” Dean suddenly sprang forwards, sitting up straight and lacing his fingers together on the desk with a grin on his stupid face.

“Good idea Sammy - I can’t wait to try her cooking. If she can cook half as well as she cleans then we’re in for a treat.”

“You son of a bitch!” I jumped up, grasping the first thing I could find (a file on God knows what) and smacked him across the face with it. Deans head turned with the force - albeit not much - and another stupid grin crept onto his stupid lips. He chuckled his deep, chesty laugh and tenderly touched his already sore face, wincing slightly.

“Just for a second I forgot you hated my guts,” he drawled, rising to his feet.

“Well you don’t do yourself any favours by talking to me like that.”

“Yeah? Well maybe if you weren’t such a hot head you’d be able to take a joke.”

“A joke? You call that a joke? Jokes are supposed to be funny, Dean, there wasn’t even a punchline,” I had started to raise my voice slightly and he gave me an extremely puzzled look.

“Hold the fucking phone - are you mad at me because I ‘insulted’ you or are you mad that there was no punchline?”

“I’m mad at YOU, because you’re just trying to rub me up the wrong way on purpose!”

There was a pause, and a smirk and a twinkle in Deans eye.

“Well I’m sure if you ask Sam nicely he’ll rub you up the right way.”

“DEAN!” Sam and I both cut in at the same time and when I glanced at him I noticed a faint pink glow on his cheeks.

“What?” He threw his hands up, “Sam you’ve been acting like a schoolgirl around her since we met her at the diner, always jumping to her aid first. Just admit you have a crush ok?” Dean gave his younger brother an ‘all knowing look’ as Sam covered his face.

“Dean I’m going to pretend you never said any of that and just move on,” Sam turned to me and said in a hushed tone “I’m so sorry,” before looking back at his brother, who was now reaching for his jacket. “And where are you going?” Sam quizzed.

“To get dinner, that’s what this whole conversation escalated from right? About what we were going to eat? Well I’m going to get takeout, what do you both want?” Dean said, throwing his hands into his jacket pockets.

“Dean sit down,” I chimed in, my voice sterner than I intended.

“What?”

“Just sit the fuck down. Both of you. Carry on researching and making yourself useful,” I said, moving away from the table.

“Why?” Sam did as he was told but Dean looked at me like I’d asked him to eat tofu.

“Because I’m not letting you boys eat yourself to death with E numbers and MSG. I’ll cook something,” and as the words left my mouth I saw Deans eyebrows raise so much I thought they might push his hairline back. Before he could get a single word out Sam spoke on behalf of both of them:

“If you’re really ok doing that, (Y/n), you’ve already done so much today-”

“Sam it’s fine, I really don’t mind. I actually enjoy cooking, and since Bobby’s been gone I’ve had no one to cook for. So yeah it’s ok,” I smiled at him reassuringly, and he smiled back.

“Ok, if you’re sure,” he paused, looking to his older brother who had removed his jacket and was taking a seat again, “I just didn’t want you to feel like you had to just because Dean-”

“Really Sam, I’m fine with it. I was planning to cook even before the jackass opened his trap.” The younger Winchester gave me a final ‘ok’ before I spun on my heel and walked towards the kitchen, not even bothering to give the older Winchester a second glance.

I guess it’s time to find out what these boys have lurking in their pantry.

*

I’d been cooking for maybe half an hour when I was finally done and called the boys to the kitchen. I set three places at the table, and placed down three beers and enough cutlery for all of us, alongside various condiments they might want. I was just serving up as they walked in, muttering to themselves about something they’d researched. As they both sat down, I placed two plates in front of them and watched their faces light up.

“STEAK!” They both had wide grins as they picked up their cutlery and immediately dug in.

“Don’t get too excited, it’s nothing special. Plus the fries were frozen and the mac ‘n’ cheese was instant,” I said, placing down my own plate and taking a seat between them.

“Don’t care, ‘s home cooked,” Dean said with a mouthful of food, reaching for his beer. Sam just nodded vigorously in agreement.

“Well ok then,” I smiled to myself, I guess a little happy that they were happy. And for once that Dean had nothing smart to say. Yet.

*

Dinner was pretty uneventful - and short - as the boys practically inhaled their food. When their plates were empty they just sat at the table in a happy silence, rubbing their full bellies.

“Considering you just used what we already had and didn’t go shopping for anything, that was fucking beautiful,” Dean said, stifling a burp. I looked at him in surprise.

“Oh… Thanks Dean,” I half smiled down at him as I stood to collect their plates. He put his hand out to stop me, taking them from my grasp and pushed gently on my shoulder, urging me to sit. He returned the half smile, standing up.

“No problem. Now let me do this, you’ve done enough for us today already. Take a break,” his voice was low and strangely kind towards me, and I was almost lost for words as I felt his firm chest brush against my arm as he took the plates from me, his body heat reaching my skin through the fabric. Was he being serious, or just leading up to be a dick in a rather roundabout way? Who knows. But I should try to appreciate the moment at least.

Dean washed up whilst Sam dried everything and put it all away, and I sat sipping my beer as they bustled about for a few minutes. Once they were done, Sam took his seat back at the table and Dean grabbed the tea towel, roughly wiping the surfaces and flinging it over his shoulder when he was done.

“And now it’s pie time,” he said suddenly, sparks of joy in his voice. I grinned.

“Oooh, can I have some?” I asked. Dean turned to look at me like I’d asked him to shoot a puppy, and Sam muttered an ‘oh boy’ under his breath.

“Can you have some?” Dean repeated my request back to me, those sparks of joy in his voice no longer there.

“Yeah…please? I saw it in the fridge earlier, there’s definitely enough to share,” I stated, starting to feel like I was missing something here. Sam cleared his throat and I turned to look at him, an unusual expression on his face.

“Uhhh…(Y/n), Dean doesn’t share his pie. Not even with me.” Dean slammed the fridge door closed, said pie now in hand.

“You’re Goddamn right. The pies mine, now back off,” he gave me a warning look as he grabbed a fork and sat back down next to me again.

“Fuck me; really? What are you, a child? Who the fuck won’t share a pie made for four people?” I asked, getting exasperated with Deans bullshit. I knew the kindness wouldn’t last.

“Me.”

“Fuck you.”

“Guys, I’m gonna go and get some sleep - I’ll be back in a few hours. Thanks for dinner (Y/n), it was great,” Sam stood and pinched the bridge of his nose, not being inconspicuous at all about being done with bickering between Dean and I. He smiled softly at me before he left, patting my shoulder as I said a quiet ‘sleep well’ to him before he exited the room. Then it just left me and Dean. Again.

“Just one slice,” I asked abruptly, watching him shovel pastry into his face.

“No.”

“Please?”

“No.”

“Dean I made you dinner and tidied your shit, the least you can do is give me a slice,” I slid forward in my chair, inching closer to him in a new attempt to get him to share.

“No.”

“Pretty please?”

“No.”

“Fuck,” I threw my hands up before leaning forwards a little more so I was now close enough to smell him. And annoyingly he smelt divine - his cologne mixed with the scent of old leather and woodsmoke, perhaps a little gunpowder too. I breathed in, trying to get to the sweet smell of the desert he had, but all I could smell was him. I tried to ignore it. He was still a douchebag.

“One bite?” He sighed and turned to look at me, noses almost touching as I flinched back, not realising how much I’d shuffled towards him. He sighed, dropping his head slightly.

“Ok, just one bite,” he said as I did a very quiet squeal of delight. I reached for the fork in his hand but he held it up out of my reach, shaking his head.

“No. Not you.”

“Dean, come on.”

“Open.”

“What are you-”

“Open your mouth,” he said sternly, those evergreen eyes finding mine.

“Wait wha-”

“Open your Goddamn mouth (Y/n)” he said, his voice turning gravelly as I felt his breath on my face. I felt heat start to flood my cheeks and I couldn’t tell what emotion it was coming from, as I had started to feel a lot of things all at once. What made my head spin a little though was hearing my name fall from his lips - he hadn’t said it before, at least not to my face. And I hated myself for liking how it sounded. I didn’t say anything to him as I eventually did as I was told; opening my mouth and instinctively sticking out my tongue a little. I wasn’t sure where to look, so I looked at him - the concentration on his face as he scooped up an acceptable amount of pie to part with was amusing to say the least. Happy with my tiny portion, he turned to me and put the fork on my tongue, to which I closed my lips around as he slowly pulled it from my mouth, leaving the amazingly sweet desert behind. With my eyes now closed, I couldn’t help but hum in delight, savouring every flavour before I swallowed it down. Slowly opening my eyes again, I wasn’t expecting to see Dean still watching me, lips slightly parted as his gaze flickered between my eyes and my sticky lips, which I was now licking clean. He seemed to catch himself quickly though, immediately scooping up more pie for himself and cramming it into his own mouth. I sat back in my chair, picking up my beer and draining the bottle.

“Next time you buy a pie, Winchester,” I started, standing and tossing the bottle in the bin, “buy one for me so we don’t have this problem again.” He looked up at me just as I turned to leave.

“No promises,” his lip quirked slightly - so slightly that I wondered if he’d even smirked at all. I scoffed, giving him one last look as I rolled my eyes before I left the room to continue researching.

“Fuck you.”

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Up Next:

Chapter 4

#dean winchester x reader #dean x you #dean x reader #dean winchester smut #dean winchester #dean x female!reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you #dean x y/n #dean winchester enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers #eventual smut

[saintslewis]

❝ 𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐘 ❞

𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄 — 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

˖ ࣪⭑ pairing: sir lewis hamilton x fem!oc

˖ ࣪⭑ summary: it’s Nads’ first day on the paddock at the Miami Grand Prix!

˖ ࣪⭑ warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, some seriously bad flirting, lots of name dropping

˖ ࣪⭑ wc: 6.7 k

˖ ࣪⭑ saint’s team radio: my babies, hi! i ain’t got no backstory, it’s just been tough to write lol. this chapter is my baby so i hope you all enjoy it 🥹. dedicating this to @httpsserene (twinnnnn) because she knows how much i back my man all the time lol. okay okay on with the story!

pls like, reblog and comment!!!

renaissance:the series • previous chapter

-

The sounds of the F1 cars and the noisy commentators went through Nadia's ears quite noisily. Fixing the position of her headphones, she held her phone horizontally as she watched through her husband's various wins throughout the years.

Her Tuesday was busy, well busily spent watching over previous races and anything related to the sport that Lewis was in. Nadia was determined to get onto the Miami paddock and not fuck up her first public appearance by not knowing anything about F1 and as much as she wanted to research a little bit more on Lewis, she decided against it, solely wanting him to tell her everything.

Her suitcases sat nicely next to her couch, the same couch that would be in her storage unit by the time she gets back from the states. Knowing that the weather that side would be ridiculously hot, she made sure to pack good outfits, enough to be Miami-approved along with all her good wigs.

It has been almost a week since she met Lewis' friends at his - their home and to think that she would be travelling the world with them so soon was not something she thought would happen. The next day, she spent it ogling at her screen on things to do in Miami. The rest of the weekend was dedicated to maintenance; wigs, nails, lashes, waxing with the occasional facetime sessions with Lewis just sharing all types of jokes to distract her from the prep.

Her phone rang in the middle of her binging Brazil 2021, showing a call from Natalia. "Hello?" Nadia answered.

"Nads, hey. I know we're literally going to be together tomorrow on the plane but i just wanted to check in to see if you're doing okay and if you're ready for Miami?" The ever so hyper girl asked excitedly.

"I've got my stuff ready and I think I'm clued up on the sport enough." Nadia's voice was clear yet soft, balancing her phone on the coffee table. "But are you wag ready?" Natalia asked, earning one of Nadia's infamous side eyes.

"Girl, what?"

"Nads, please don't tell me you don't know what that means." Natalia stressed as she ruffled around to sit up straight.

"Then you won't like my next answer." She smiled, standing up to go to the kitchen. "Oh my days, one of the most famous wags right now and she doesn't even know what it is." Natalia laughed, continuing with her explanation.

"So basically, it's a wife or girlfriend of an athlete. All you're gonna do when we get there is maybe make some friends with the other wags and just be his biggest supporter, even if it means we throwing hands." The girl laughed even louder, their laughter bounced off the walls.

"Now you're speaking. I think I'll be good as long as I have someone to guide me through it, y'know?" Nadia said, fidgeting with whatever is in front of her which in this case, was a fork.

For the umpteenth time in the last 3 weeks, Nadia was nervous about everything changing so quickly. This was her first public appearance as 'Mrs Hamilton' and knowing that she will have to face so many eyes on her was something she couldn't bear to think of.

"Here's my ting, Nads. You're not just the wife of any driver there, you're lawfully linked with the literal face of that sport. That man is beyond famous and keeping up with his life as his friend group is so exciting yet so fast paced so if you need anything, you got us. Genuine chats." Natalia smiled, watching her friend fiddle with the fork.

"I just need to keep up and plus Lew said if it gets too much, I can always just come back and chill at home which is something I will definitely do." Nadia said, picking up her phone.

"Exactly babes! Anyways, I'll pick you up later then we head to the airport together?" She offered. Nadia just nodded before posing in the kitchen. They wished each other their goodbyes and Nadia immediately got to work, sorting out her outfits for the third time.

-

The drive to the airport felt so surreal, the tiny droplets of rain sped down the car window as the music blared through Nadia's headphones. A sleeping Natalia layed across her lap, barely moving unless there was a slight bump on the road.

Preparing herself to go on a plane for the first time in 12 years , she breathed in and out and went very deep in her thoughts. The slight breeze of the air conditioner in the car raised hairs on her arms, definitely regretting putting her emergency hoodie in one of her suitcases and not in her carry on.

She had just decided to run on autopilot for the rest of the trip, every single thought of hers gnawing at her causing a headache to form. The feeling of constantly having eyes on her was overwhelming, every time she wants to run an errand or or go on with her maintenance day, she would always be stopped for a picture or even worse, have a camera following her around. She now understood why celebrities would always have their headphones on in public.

Heathrow Airport appeared in her vision, her hand immediately landing on Natalia's arm and shook her a bit so that she could wake up and prepare herself.

"We here yet?" The woman said, rubbing her eye and blinking quite quickly. All Nadia could do was nod and slightly smile at her friend who immediately felt Nadia's vibe. "Okay Nads, I don't know what your thoughts are chatting about but think about it like this: a cute little trip with new friends and experiencing new shit while looking good at the same time. I can feel your overthinking from here." Natalia said, cuddling into her friend.

"You know, you say some cute shit then you violate me after. Is this your thing?" Nadia chuckled as the driver drove towards the main entrance of the airport.

"Y'should hear the shit I say to Miles."

The process of getting checked in went incredibly smoothly, considering the girls met Tia when rolling their suitcases. It was all relatively easy as they were flying private, the jet waiting patiently for its passengers. The short drive in a different SUV to the jet had Nadia's stomach flutter as she took everything in. Stepping out the car to a very gloomy night sky, the crème white jet stood in all its glory and Nadia battled herself to not take pictures but she couldn't help it.

Nearing towards the steps with her carry-on, the flight attendants smiled with champagne flutes in their hands. "Welcome Miss Tia, Miss Natalia and Mrs Hamilton. I do hope you have a wonderful flight to Miami." One of the woman had greeted with a blinding smile.

Accepting the champagne although utterly creeped out, Nadia greeted everyone back and made her way into one of the most beautiful private jets she'd set her eyes on. Hermés blankets were placed on top of the seats, charcuterie boards were set and the night lights were on, referencing the stars in the night sky. Seeing how relaxed Tia and Natalia were, she took a deep breath and took a window seat.

Next to her were different types of chocolates and sweets, water bottles, sodas, spritzers along with champagne sat aesthetically all around her. Settling across from her, Tia whipped out her iPad and immediately got to work, hoping to talk to Nadia while she was still awake.

The two spoke on many different topics pertaining the marriage and Nadia's new found fame. "To summarise before we dive deep. I already opened up an Amex bank account for you because the money you'll make throughout all this is insane. You've got a lot of people to meet on Friday but I'll take you through everything on Thursday."

Nadia just listened to everything. "So while Lewis has a photoshoot tomorrow, we'll meet with your new team which by the way, have already prepared outfits for you for the coming weekends because i know you brought your own this week. Just remember, don't be too hard on yourself. I know it's a lot but you two can get through it. Oh, and you can finally open up your social media profiles." Tia smiled, closing the iPad with its cover and handing her a black card, mouthing that it already has money on it.

"Now we can sit back and relax for the rest of this 8 hour flight." Natalia said, eye mask already covering her eyes with a blanket enveloping her. The plane had already taken off during Tia speaking so she didn't have much to be nervous about in the moment.

-

MIAMI

Stepping off the jet steps, 4 bodyguards stood as Nadia's sight immediately went to the three large escalades, reminding her of how a president would be transported. Greeting everyone a very tired good morning, she spotted Lewis climbing out one of the cars along with Miles. A smile appeared on her face as she saw them, the nerves being pushed away at the sight of people she recognised.

"How was your flight, bruv? Got some coffee to wake you up." Lewis said with a smile, putting her suitcases in the car, his sweater sleeves lifted and showed his tattooed arms flexing as he lifted them.

She knew it was too early into the friendship to be having such thoughts but she couldn't help but feel some way about him as she watched him and he glowed in the morning sun, laughing at a joke Miles had said. Not to mention how her heart fluttered knowing he got her coffee although he himself doesn't like the hot drink.

"Nads?" He called to her, seeing her in a dazed state but quickly snap back to it. "It was great, Tia distracted me from the flight takin' off so that's a plus. Had one too many croissants and before I forget, I got us something that I hope you'll like." She said, climbing into the open car door and put her tote bag next to her.

On the way to the hotel, the two played some Raye while making jokes and talking about the rest of the weekend, assuring Nadia that if she wasn't comfortable going to all these events that she could stay back at the hotel. All she knew was that she was definitely going to watch him play some basketball the next day.

"And the pants are pink? Like your trousers are hot pink?" She asked the man as they drove through Miami, oblivious to the copious amounts of billboards with his face on it be it about Formula 1 or IWC, the watch brand that he was ambassador for. "And I was told to show you my outfits for the whole weekend for your first well, second public appearance." He said, sitting comfortably on his seat, playing around with his phone but not using it.

"That's very kind of whoever told you that. Before I regret my gift, do you wear grills? Or tooth jewellery in general?" Nads asked, unconsciously holding onto her tote bag.

"Are you about to say what i think you're about to say?" Lewis asked, turning his whole body towards her. "Do you know how hard it was having to describe your teeth to the person who made them? Anyways, I thought we could wear the grills the same day as like a statement, y'know?" She said, taking out two cases with the same branding.

"That's a great idea, I truly love it and these grills, man. Might build a mini collection." Lewis sounded impressed, bringing the jewellery closer to really look at it then looked at Nadia with a feeling that he was struggling to decipher but he get genuine appreciation towards her.

"Thank you pookie bear for these, i'll cherish it forever." He smiled, his eye wrinkles prominent.

"Oh my days, you said it." She covered her mouth with both hands, the ring shining as the rays of the morning sun hit it.

"What? Pookie bear?"

"Yeah, you barely say it! Oh my days, say it again so i can record it." Nadia said, bringing her phone out, making Lewis laugh so hard as they drove to the hotel.

-

Thursday afternoon could not come fast enough with Nadia standing in the large hotel bathroom, scratching her bald cap as she stared at the two wigs in front of her. The one was a light pink, wanting to support Lewis in pink and the other was black, very neutral but was quite long.

Her outfit was laid out on the bed, consisting of a denim mini skirt with pink low cut nikes, her reflective diesel bag that she received the night before and a dark gray tee with Baby Lewis on it. For Nadia, this outfit was quite simple as she liked to branch her style out, no matter how bold it might be.

The memories of the night before started to flow through, smiling by herself. When the crew had come back from dinner in the ever so luxurious hotel restaurant, she came back to all types of gifts on her bed, a note from Lewis reading 'for your first grand prix' with a heart next to it.

New Van Cleef and Arpels bracelets as she jokingly requested, the Diesel bag she would be sporting at the IWC event, two Dior saddles bags and two new pairs of sneakers that she had yet to open. The tears that were in her eyes dropped down her face as she opened her gifts, texting a sleeping Lewis a selfie with all her presents.

"Okay girl, let's do the black wig because the shoes and bag are already pink." Nadia decided, her voice echoing as she spoke to herself in the spacious bathroom. Putting some music on, she continued getting ready whilst waiting for Lewis to pick her up as he's coming from the track.

As if someone heard her thoughts, she heard a knock on the door followed with the wood creaking beside it and she instantly knew it was Lewis. Opening the door with a smile on her face, she saw him with the same beaming smile as she displayed. It looked as if he already changed his outfit from this morning, keeping up with his activities on social media.

"Well good afternoon sir." Nadia greeted as she walked back into the room to grab her handbag, phone and sunglasses, walking out as soon as she got everything with her.

Now, Lewis was someone who would subtly blush at the slightest compliment he would receive or whenever anyone mentioned that they liked his outfit, he would be grateful then brush it off with one of his smiles. However, hearing his assigned title come from the lips of his wife - new friend and not to mention her wearing his t shirt, made his chest warm. Same feeling he got whenever he would gift her anything and just see her smile.

There are just friends who just so happen to be married.

"Hi Nads. I'm loving the shirt by the way." He complimented, watching her lock up her room and place the key card in her bag. "Oh thanks, some guy i'm married to gave it to me. Do you think this kid is a legend now?" Nadia joked as they both walked to the elevator, relieved to have no one inside.

"I heard he's this really cool driver. Also props to that random dude who gave you the tee, super stylish and amazing." Lewis spoke as he leaned on the railing of the elevator.

"Okay not too much now." Nadia scoffed, followed up with a giggle.

Upon arriving at the place, it was truly crowded with fans and many camera crews all facing an incredibly large billboard with Lewis' face on it, his arm showing off the expensive watch. Majority of those involved in the event were wearing pink and many of the fans standing outside had a mixture of colours, including neon yellow and purple.

As their Escalade rolled up to the main entrance of the event, the cheers were heard from all around the car. Playing with her hair nervously, Lewis watched as he was getting ready to get out the car. "D'you mind if I hold your hand? Just noticed you were nervous." He voiced, seeing her snap out of her mind.

Looking down at his large open hand, Nadia didn't think twice about grabbing onto it and holding it tightly. As he stepped out of the car, the screams became louder as he waved to everyone with his other hand whilst Nadia scooched out with the car step helping her. As if the screams and cheers couldn't get any louder, her foot touched the ground and people were shouting out all types of things.

Although Nadia was nervous, she felt Lewis squeeze her hand and prompt her to look at him, his eyes more comforting than anything. Shooting a quick smile and wink at him, she went back to greeting everyone clawing for attention. He stood for a moment, in awe of her instant switch from what he saw in the car. Remembering where he was, he too snapped up and walked towards fans to sign stuff.

About an hour into the event, Nadia sat and cheered underneath the VIP section of it all. Starstruck event workers stood close to her, offering anything she would want from the stalls all around. With a pink lemonade in her hand, she watched Lewis play basketball with the widest smile on his face as he dribbled the ball and put the ball through the next.

To get better sight of her hunk of a husband, she sat closer to the kids who too watched in awe of everything and it isn't hard to believe that she began playing some hand games with them while workers were busy. While Lewis stood to the side of the game, he watched as Nadia interacted with the kids sitting on chairs clearly made for children but it was the pure joy she radiated that struck him the most.

Digging his phone out of one of his many pockets on his hot pink pants, he snapped a few photos of her surrounded with kids and he was very sure that the many camera crews also captured the adorable moment. Looking up, Nadia locked eyes with Lewis from across the court, waving excitedly which prompted the kids to wave as well.

After a while, Lewis was asked to do an interview and one of the questions were where else he would like to race and to get a reaction out, he uttered the words "I would like to race in South Africa, my wife's home country and definitely because it would be an amazing track." Little did he know that that clip would send the internet into a frenzy.

-

SATURDAY

Ultimately deciding to show face in the paddock on Qualifying Day and definitely ruining Tia's master plan, Nadia placed her earrings on before taking pictures of herself in the mirror for her to post later on in the day.

Fixing her top a little, she held onto it while looking for the small case that held her grillz and finding them on the nightstand, securely placing them on her teeth. She quickly switched her heels for sneakers knowing that she would be walking around the whole day.

Her mood was all over the place from the moment she woke up. She knew going into another deep dive was going to affect how she would be with everyone she was supposed to meet but she did so in the late evening after the day she had. She hadn't fully memorised names but she could identify them in an instant if anyone were to show pictures of F1 drivers.

Natalia, Miles, Charlotte and Spinz had already left earlier on, leaving Nadia and Lewis to get to the track together as planned. The knock resonated through the door, signaling that Lewis was here to pick her up. Grabbing everything she needed including the paddock passes, she got to the door with a slight scowl on her face.

"Woah, you're blonde now." Lewis pointed out, leaning against the doorframe with his hands in his pants pockets. His red sunglasses matched the parts of red on his Tommy Hilfiger sweatshirt with his blue sneakers matching the blue parts. He flashed his smile, showing off his grillz.

"That FIA president better watch his mouth when it comes to you, talking some bullshit so early in the morning." She warned, locking the door with her key card once more and she placed her all black sunglasses on.

"Nads, wait. What's going on?" Lewis stood there. "Went on a deep dive last night and developed a deep resentment towards the higher ups of the sport." She said, shrugging her shoulders then leading the way towards the elevator.

As confused as he was, Lewis walked quick to catch up with her as she walked closer and closer to the elevator.

"And before you say anything peace instilling, I'm not going to beat anybody up...yet." Nadia said, crossing her arms as she stood next to Lewis in the large metal box. "..You look really nice today." Lewis chose his words carefully, not used to seeing her in this mood.

"So do you, very chilled out. Well, until you smile then you'll send those geezers into a heart attack." She snickered, showing the matching grillz. "I think they'll be fine. They saw a glimpse of my stomach yesterday and told me I looked like Magic Mike." He said, laughing at the ridiculous comments he heard yesterday.

"Not them comparing you to an unsexy white man?" She jokingly said, with them falling into a fit of giggles. "I know this is going to sound out of pocket but did you know that your arms look very bite-able? Like I could just take a munch out of them."

"Nadia, what the fuck?"

-

It was evidently clear that this was a huge weekend for Miami, thousands of fans walking the streets in merchandise from their favourite teams or drivers.

The motorcade they were riding in could be compared to being presidential, people cheering whenever it drove by and getting out of windows to cheer at the red lights. Reaching the Hard Rock stadium, it shocked Nadia to see how many people were in attendance with probably thousands more already welcomed in. With the touch of a button, Lewis' window went down as he greeted everyone with a wave and a smile, gaining a positive reaction from everyone.

Eventually slowing down within the private parking, the pretend couple climbed out the car with Lewis opening the car door for Nadia. Waving to the crowd with him made Nadia feel slightly overwhelmed, noticing how the crowd grew even more when he appeared.

Leaning down a little to whisper into her ear, "You can be with me for now then we can walk in together." Lewis' breath tickling her ear, fighting a shy smile towards the man. Walking with him to his supporters or literally anyone who shoved anything in his direction, Nadia took out her phone to capture this moment and how loved he truly was.

A few fans were signaling to her to sign some stuff and for pictures, surprising her at the excitement of the fans. Leaning over to sign stuff, she received a few friendship bracelets, a few gifts that she handed over to security and some many compliments that her cheeks were starting to hurt.

"Bye everyone!" She exclaimed, signaled to finish up and head into the paddock. The crowd responded and she felt a large hand intertwine with hers, relieved to see that it was Lewis'. Cameras had begun to follow them, her hand squeezing his in nervousness. Reaching the official entrance of the paddock, he stepped back to let her sign in first then he did afterwards.

Flipping her blonde hair and fixing her sunglasses, their hands intertwined once again as they began to walk down the incredibly long pathway. All types of media was running around them like headless chickens, hurling questions their way but all the two did was smile and greet everyone who greeted them.

The power that resonated through the pretend couple as they walked towards the Mercedes hospitality inside the stadium, everyone could feel it. The pure confidence and kindness they showed on the short walk was enough to keep the world talking for a few weeks, grillz shining as they grinned and Lewis fist bumped people as he usually did.

Once reaching Mercedes, Nadia and Lewis weren't aware of the small crowd that had gathered behind them as they walked, everyone intrigued with the sight of Nadia next to the 7x World champion of the sport. "Lewis! Nadia, hello!" A short woman with a blonde bob enthusiastically said, standing up from one of the chairs inside the building.

"Susie! How's it going?" Lewis said, hugging the woman. "I am doing quite well," Susie said. "Who is this beautiful woman?" She asked, setting her eyes on a nervous looking Nadia.

"Hello, I'm Nadia. It's such a pleasure to meet you, Lewis told me about you." She smiled, stretching her arm out for a handshake that Susie happily accepted. "Oh my, likewise. I will have to steal you away from him now as he has to get ready for quali. Toto has meet you as well." Susie said.

"I do have to go unfortunately so I'll see you later in the garage?" Lewis asked, placing his hand on her waist whilst looking into her eyes. "Yup, have fun bruv." Nadia winked then placed a kiss on his cheek, the lipgloss leaving a residue on his cheek that he didn't dare to wipe off.

He winked back (dismally), then left the two ladies, greeting everyone in his way before walking off with Rosa, his Mercedes media personnel.

As Susie and Nadia had the cutest bonding time, including a very giddy Toto Wolff who was excited to see Lewis' wife to make sure that he wasn't seeing things. Nadia walked out of the hospitality with a chocolate bar in her hand, trying to remember the directions Susie had given her to the Paddock club.

Having no clue where she was going, she approached a woman who looked quite kind, donning the same passes as she was across her chest. "Hi there!" Nadia greeted as she stopped in front of the woman who's eyes went wide at the sight of Nadia in front of her.

"Holy shit, you're her." The woman blurted out as she then proceeded to slap her hand on her mouth afterwards. Nadia giggled at the woman's reaction, watching her as she swallowed whatever was in her mouth. "Oh my god, I'm so sorry. You're just so pretty in real life. I'm Lily." She rambled out.

"Hey Lily, I'm Nadia," the older woman tilted her head a bit and maintained eye contact. "Don't know if you're busy right now but do you mind showing me to the paddock club? Thank you for the compliment, so are you!" She spoke, seeing Lily lose her breath a little when making direct eye contact.

"Oh! Of course, that's where I'm headed right now. You can join me in my walk there, it's not too far." Lily offered, to which Nadia just nodded and the two conversed all the way.

Once reaching the overly luxurious and crowded space, Lily guided Nadia towards a private section of the already exclusive space. Greeting those who waved at her as they walked by, she spotted a group of younger looking women who were eagerly looking around until their eyes landed on Lily and Nadia, smiles growing larger with them all standing up in excitement.

Deciding to greet the group first, she held her arms out and they fell into a huge group hug. Nadia felt surprisingly safe and definitely knew that these were the wags that Natalia was speaking about a few days before.

"Super sorry for the ambush, once we saw you enter the paddock we've been excited." The calm brunette woman grinned. "I'm Carmen, I'm with George." She tucked her hair behind her ear, her aura very classy.

George Russell, Lewis' teammate.

"I'm Kika! Francisca but I prefer Kika." The tall girl introduced herself, resembling a deer. Her eyes large with a beaming smile. "I'm with Pierre."

Pierre Gasly, apart of that one pink team. French guy.

"I'm Alexandra, so nice to meet you." The last girl introduced herself, voice very soft but visibly excited. She looked like she would be with someone from Ferrari. "I'm with Charles." She beams, Nadia's guess being correct.

"Well hi everyone, I'm Nadia." She said, opting for all the girls to sit. Kika gasped before she sat down, "oh my goodness, I just realised that you look like Tinker Bell."

The other girls looked at Nadia properly and agreeing with Kika, giggles floating around.

A lengthy conversation from fashion to careers to food, the group of women were interrupted by a Mercedes employee, asking for both Carmen and Nadia in the garage. Grabbing each other's hands, the two women greeted their friends goodbye as they walked out of the Paddock club.

The Mercedes garage was everything that Nadia imagined it to be, people wizzing in and out of there with both cars proudly displayed as the crowd gathered to take pictures of each car or simply wanting a picture in front of the driver's garages.

Spotting her husband's braids over everyone in front of him, she carefully walked over to him, not wanting to trip over anything. Locking eyes with each other, Lewis quickly put his airpods back into their case and stuck his hand out for her to hold onto. Manoeuvring his arm around her shoulder whilst holding her hand, Lewis held Nadia closer to him. Avoiding the cameras and the watching eyes everywhere.

"So? How was it? Heard you are quite the star today." Lewis teased. Glancing up at the man through her lashes, she smiled and bounced on her feet a little. "Everyone is so nice. I met the other girlfriends and bruv, you should've seen them. It was like I was holding the universe in my hands." She joked, earning a nod and a smile.

"Do you think you have one more introduction left in you? I have someone I'd like you to meet." He said, looking forward then at her, his sunglasses sitting on his forehead. Turning her head in the direction he just looked, she spotted someone familiar and as they walked closer, she recognised the tall figure and her stomach dropped.

"Lewis, hey man! What's good?" Pharrell Williams greeted her husband with a handshake then hug, letting go of Nadia's body for a brief period of time. Nadia couldn't believe the sight in front of her, her idol was chatting it up with her husband.

"And i want you to meet my wife, Nadia. My guardian angel through all this shit." Lewis beamed at her, holding her closer once again to bring her towards Pharrell. "Ah, it's a such an honour to meet you." The man exclaimed, his grillz shining as well. "He's said so many good things about you after the reveal, I was genuinely shocked that you two could keep a secret like this." Pharrell snickered.

Processing the fact that Lewis had spoken about her to her idol and that said idol mentioned that it was an honour, all she could really do was smile and nod. "Well, I'm glad we're finally out now." Nervously chuckling, Nadia tucked her hair behind her ear.

With a light conversation and a few pictures, Pharrell ended off with words that Nadia couldn't believe she just heard. "I hope to see you two in Paris, remember front row and I'll be sure to send some stuff from LV." The older man remarked, slowly walking away as it was almost time for Quali to begin.

Nadia sat with large headphones on her head, Bono's voice occasionally chiming in to Lewis. The screen in front of her showed all the cars racing on track, starting off quite smoothly in Q1. Whenever the camera would pan to her during a pit stop, she would smile or wink, quite literally the only actions she's been able to do this whole weekend.

-

RACE DAY.

As if it was clockwork, she sat in the same chair with her hands balled up in front of her mouth and her eyebrows furrowed as she watched Car 44 whiz around the track.

Being behind the scenes the day before had truly helped her understand the dynamics of the sport, Nadia's eyes snapping between watching the car drive and the current position he was in. P4 and there were only a few laps left of the race. Miles and Natalia were seated next to her, stressing just as much as Nadia did.

The atmosphere in the garage was tense, only audible sounds being heard in Nadia's ears were the car's engine and occasional groans or cheers from the crowd outside. Feeling all her senses show in anticipation, her clothes felt tighter than they actually were and her hands were shaking as she watched her husband turn the car into the specific corner that has been an issue the whole race.

As the last 2 laps went on, she stood up abruptly as anxiety seeped through her body. Nadia knew it was going to be a good position but seeing Lewis come alive in the final laps could put him anywhere. His car swiftly overtook Alonso’s, the finish line just a few metres away from him and Natalia stood next to her as they all watched Lewis finish the race.

P2.

The cheer that erupted from her was genuine, a few people celebrating all around them with the pit crew giving each other hugs.

“Nadia! Let’s go to the podium!” Rosa exclaimed, a giant smile on her face as she held her hand out. Looking back at Natalia and Miles, they both urged to go. With a grill filled smile on her face, she waved to whichever camera was on her and ran out excitedly with Rosa to where most of the Mercedes team where going to be along with media.

Upon getting to the infamous barrier as they waited for all three winning cars to arrive in parc ferme, Nadia held her head as she expressed her excitement to the woman. Members of the media could see that Nadia was making her way there, her own little paparazzi forming with many questions being asked but Rosa managed to guide her to the very front.

Lewis climbed out of the car, the neon and purple helmet sitting pretty as he walked towards the team doing a little dance on the way. Spotting Nadia first, his grin widened with his eyes closing a bit as he approached her. Once in front of her, Nadia threw arms around him and kissed his open visor, a brown and glossy residue sticking on there. Their eyes locked once and it was such an intimate yet soft moment between the two.

Her eyes filled with pride and happiness and his filled with gratitude for the woman in front of him, a special bond building right in front of the world. Planting the forehead of his helmet with her head, they scrunched their noses as they maintained eye contact with each other, not even realising that they were holding hands.

The moment was shortly interrupted by the noise of fans and the Mercedes team screaming in joy as he moved on to celebrate with them before hurrying to take his weight and get ready to go to the break down room before stepping onto the podium.

Minutes later, the drivers reappeared onto the podium, each one waving at their respective teams along with the crowd. As the English national anthem began, Nadia’s eyes went to the figure of her smiling husband, hands tucked behind him. Looking at the man and not the obscene amount of cameras on her at that moment, Nadia had to remind herself that all this was to benefit their parents’ feelings and to simply help Lewis.

This wasn’t real.

The trophies were being handed to the drivers, Lewis immediately lifting his and pointing to his team then Nadia, winking at her before waving to the screaming crowd. Watching him in his element was never going to get old , that was for sure and thinking about how all this could end one day made her stomach drop, her facade still showing the proud smile as she watched him leave the podium.

At least two hours later, Nadia, Miles and Natalia sat on one of the benches outside the Mercedes hospitality with their ice cold waters in front of them. The two teased Nadia to no end about her meeting Pharrell and how most of the interaction was caught on video by fans, posting on twitter.

“Listen, when you’re a stylist and you see your fav fashion person in real life, you’d scream too.” Nadia laughed as she hid her face in her hands.

“Just saying Nads, the shocked look you gave him when he was about to walk up to you lot was so cute. Gonna get that shit printed.” Natalia joked, earning an eye roll from Nadia.

“Aye! There’s the man of the hour!” Miles exclaimed, watching Lewis walk up to the building with Rosa right next to him, the Mercedes shirt flowing in the light breeze.

Giving his friends their own handshakes, he sat next to Nadia and gave her a fist bump, the two of them giggling right after that. “There’s no way you just fist bumped her?” Miles said, pointing at his friend then Nadia.

“It’s our thing, don’t worry about it bro.” Lewis said , a mischievous smile on his face. “So how was your first race, bruv? Susie said you should try be a team principal.” He asked, turning his body to face her once again.

“My days, Lew! That shit got me on my toes. The numbers took a while to understand but I eventually got it. Also which ones Leclerc?” Nadia asked, looking at the others.

“That one’s Charles. He’s a good one.” Natalia responded.

“Oh okay, he’s cool in my books. Those two red bulls got on my fucking nerves though. Driving like maniacs and that other one almost pushing you off the track?” In all fairness, Nadia was fuming at the thought of it. It was one of the moments that constantly replayed in her mind.

“Oh Perez. They’re okay, just glad I was able to get on podium.” Lewis shrugged his shoulders as he relaxed his arms onto the table. “There are no cameras here, bruv. I don’t fucking like them or that fuck ass team with their team principal. A bunch of pricks.” Nadia cussed, her friends watching her and giggling at her reaction.

“That’s how we feel as well but mr nice guy doesn’t think so. Welcome to the club, babe.” Natalia reached out her hand to Nadia’s. Accepting it, she breathed out and looked at Lewis once again who gave her a little smile.

“Tell those guys to get their shit together or else I’ll deal with them myself. Anyways, your drive was amazing today.” She smiled as if she wasn’t pissed two seconds ago.

“Y’know what, Nads? I totally get it.” Miles said, fist bumping her, adding a little gimmick after it.

“Anyone want ice cream?” Lewis proposed, watching his friends and their interaction, his attention on Nadia and how passionate she felt about the race. His eyes stuck on her the more she spoke about her weekend, her lip gloss from earlier still shining with their interaction at parc ferme replaying in his mind.

nadiahamilton • 14 min. “Miami, you’ve been good!”

taglist: @non-stop-imagines @folkloresthings @tispys-blog @userlando @lorarri @thisismeracing @thatsdemko @myescapefromthislife @slytherinjimin3nthusiast @jamie2305 @like-fire-love-blog @sugardontbesweet @simpfortoomanymen @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @eugene-emt-roe @deepgothfiremuffin @18754389 @cherry2stems @anubisnoir @littlelizzies-world @httpsserene @apenasumlug4r @youre-sooooo-funny @eddiesbitch83 @arshiyuh @alika-4466 @peyiswriting @sunfairyy @roseseraj @vsfavs @goldenalbon @mistruscity @tian-monique @hopefulromantic1 (i admire your work sm!)

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dividers by: @cafekitsune

nadia’s fc: @/unclewaffles on ig!

all pictures are from ig and pinterest!

#☆ ‧₊˚ saint’s media pen #lewis hamilton #formula 1 #f1 #f1 x reader #formula one x black reader #x black fem reader #formula one x reader #x black reader #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton x black reader #lewis hamilton x oc #lewis hamilton fanfics #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fic #f1 x black!reader #f1 x oc #f1 imagines #f1 fanfic

[neet-elite]

Adonis — (SDV) Alex [VALENTINES EVENT]

Pairing: Alex / F!Reader Genre: Smut 18+ WC: 6192 Warnings: ropes/restraints, worship, overstimulation, dacryphilia, size difference, established relationship, L-bombs, drool/spit, creampie Synopsis: “Comfy?” He smiles at you, all genuine and tone full of adoration. More than anything, he wants you to be happy and comfortable, even with the awkward position he’s currently resting in. Wrists tied tight behind his back, legs kept spread for ease of access. He doesn’t mind at all, so long as you’re kept pleased.

A/N: there needs to be more alex content. there needs to be more worshipping alex content. there needs to be more- you get the point. i love my dumb himbo so much and wanted to completely and utterly dote on him for valentines day so here's to ruining big strong alex tonight &lt;3 happy valentines day !!!

When you came to him with pretty pink ropes this afternoon he’d imagined something… Different, at the very least. Not that he’s complaining, no! Absolutely not, he would never even dream of complaining about anything when it comes to you, even as his arms flex and bulge against the tight restraints you’ve forced upon him tonight. The feeling of his muscles burning under the scratchy material only heightens his approval of how tonight has turned, a low grumble of appreciation rising from his chest when you finally join him on your shared bed, nestled nice and snug between his thighs. It’s one of his favourite places to see you, truthfully.

“Comfy?” He smiles at you, all genuine and tone full of adoration. More than anything, he wants you to be happy and comfortable, even with the awkward position he’s currently resting in. Wrists tied tight behind his back, legs kept spread for ease of access. He doesn’t mind at all, so long as you’re kept pleased. Because that’s what a good boyfriend does, and he hopes to excel in that regard.

You nod in return, cute smirk on your lips for him to gently laugh at. Despite his bindings, he’s comfortable too. Of course he is, you’re right next to him; the love of his life and his valentine girl tonight. Though he’d imagined the night going differently, having has his own hopeless romantic plans for tonight, he can’t deny the giddy excitement that bubbles to his lungs with the way you observe him, leading to breathless laughter as you settle nicely between his legs. “Good. I’m glad,” He says as he sinks into the soft sheets, thankful for their gentle embrace against the rough ropes. “I love you.” He whispers once cosy, mouthing it once more when your small hands brace against his toned chest, the barely noticeable dig of your nails into his exposed pecs causing him to inhale sharply.

You haven’t clued him in to too much of your ambitions tonight, only that he requires restraint for your plans to exist. He’d readily accepted when you asked him to sit still, God, he’d give you the world if you so much as asked, so a little rope is nothing compared. Especially when your nails trail down to his tummy, so lightly that he shivers into your touch, arching his back just a little more in an unvoiced asking of more— which you obviously pick up on, giggling to yourself when you immediately withdraw your hands in favour of watching him squirm.

He can’t help but smile back at you, beaming at the cute sounds you make as he wiggles around, pretending to try and escape for your enjoyment. “Whatcha got planned this evening, hm?” He encourages you, egging you on to continue teasing him, bulge quickly hardening in his underwear before your very eyes with the flirty way you’ve been treating him tonight. Like an endless honeymoon, he’s forever starstruck by your embrace, skin tingling and cheeks flushing at even just the little hum you let out in faux thought. You know him like the back of your hand, so he’s not too concerned with what you must be thinking about having him endure. That, and he trusts you. Wholly and completely, you’ve always got his best interests at heart.

You wouldn’t be his Valentine if that wasn’t the case.

So when you hit him with; “It’s a secret.” he can’t help but nod pliantly, eager to let you get on with the show in your own time. Because if he’s honest, watching you have fun between his legs is enough to have his cock twitching, the feeling of your thighs riding his own as you sit obediently before him is so nice, skin on skin contact going straight to his head— and his heart. “S’at so?” is all he offers you, head tilting to the side with curiosity over your actions. The way you keep dancing your fingers along his tummy, smiling to yourself when his muscles flex and move under your dainty touch. He’d be a liar if he said he wasn’t excited, clearly evident from how his boxers tent before you’ve even had a chance to touch his cock. And, the fact that he wants to ignore your ask of sit still in favour of thrusting his cock towards you; an attempt to beg please, look at how much I need you.

Because he always does need you. Wants for you so badly that even just ghosting his tip is enough to have him sighing, biting down on his bottom lip mischievously when you quirk a brow at him.

“What?” he questions you sincerely, releasing another sigh into the space left between when you repeat the action, only this time a little more purposeful. Has his legs stretching out more, opening further to receive more of your love. “Feels good, babe.” He hums, staring right back at you and your playful expression, happy to have your hands on him in any capacity, but especially when you palm circles gently around his leaking tip. Fuck, you affect him so easily— and he’s all too eager to show you. Shifting his weight around so that his back slides a little off the bed headboard, inching closer to you the bolder your touch becomes.

“Can’t blame me for enjoin’ it.”

“I’m not.” You reassure him, but your little giggles give you away. Not that he cares, mind you. Where others might be embarrassed about being so in love, so completely infatuated that barely there rubbing is enough to get him going, his head resting back against the headboard in satisfaction; he couldn’t care less. It only goes to show just how completely in love with you he is, unafraid to showcase just how needy he is for you as he rolls his hips into your open palm, moaning quietly to himself when you reciprocate his begging with a loosely closed fist around the tip of his cock. Fuck, that’s it. Can’t stop himself from fighting with his restraints a little in an effort to properly appreciate you some more, but he’s immediately reminded by the harsh burn against his skin that you’ve disallowed him from such luxuries.

And that’s so fucking hot to him, fuck; he gets it now. To be prohibited, forbidden to cup your cheeks and press sloppy kisses all over your cute little face. Banned from running his hands up and down your arms, from pinching your waist and pulling you gently onto his lap. It feels strangely good to be completely at your mercy like this, in spite of his squirming and huffing. You wanna play with him to your hearts content? God, please, he finds himself thinking. Offering you more wiggle room by planting his feet by either side of you, cock squished between his thighs with your palm petting his hidden length. Feels too fucking good that he’s already a little dizzy with desire.

But he wants for more. Always does when it comes to you, quickly finding that he can never have enough of you.

“Planning on teasing me all night?” He flirts, even if he intrinsically knows he’s in no position to do so. He’d helped you tie the rope as tight as possible, so despite his strength he knows he’ll never be able to burst out of his bondage. All bark and no bite, but he figures you don’t mind his pestering when you wrap your tiny fist around his fat cock tighter, immediately knocking the wind out of him. You’ve got the upper hand here, and the fact that you know that only riles him up some more, cock twitching in your hold as his breathing grows heavier. Was it always this hot in your room?

“No, I’m just taking my time,” you elaborate, keeping good on your promise by giving his cock another squeeze, and he’s sure that despite the fabric barrier you can feel how hard it pulses against your fingertips. He’s about to retort back but you forbid him even that, smiling as you speak. “Appreciating you like you deserve for once.”

Brief confusion surely laces his features, he knows he’s not the best at hiding his emotions, especially from you. But as if you know exactly what he’s concerned about, you begin tugging his cock so lightly it’s almost painful, his boxers quickly proving bothersome with how they steal most of your touch, even if your hand is wrapped around his girth nicely. “You always take care of me, Alex…” you pout cutely, and he can’t deny that. It’s probably his favourite thing to do in the world, to take care of you. And by that he means that he likes to eat you out for hours on end, hands wrapped bruisingly around your waist to keep you pinned in place until he’s done. Bouncing you up and down his fat cock all morning because you deserve one more orgasm, c’mon, just gimmie one more, promise. Fingering you all night while you try to work, because you work so hard all day, babe. lemme reward you. “It’s my turn now… Is that okay?” you ask so sweetly that he automatically answers with a nod without much thinking, too busy leaning into his imagination of recalled instances, the cute moans he’s fucked out of you during the course of your relationship, how pretty you look when begging and crying for him.

And then it dawns on him, hits him all at once with alarming clarity. If that’s what you’re referring to, then… “W-Wait, babe, promise m’good. Would rather look after you actually—” he rushes to reassure you, voice shaking in both worry and excitement; he’s not sure which is strongest.

You still stroke his cock as you speak, and it makes it difficult for him to think at all, let alone think straight. “Mm, I thought you might say that,” you start, letting go of his pulsing hard on for him to whine at, his cheeks flushing deeper at the dulcet tone you’ve managed to get out of him. Embarrassing, sure, but his cock argues otherwise. Leaking more precum inside his underwear, making them all sticky and sheer for you to bite your lip at. “But I really wanna look after you tonight, for Valentines day… Can I?” You seek his consent again, and how can he say no to that pretty face? You nust understand, right?

So that’s what the rope is for. To make sure he can’t interfere with your plans, forcing him to accept defeat not only verbally with a swift yes, of course babe but also physically. Wrists pinned to his back, your legs keeping his own open just like what he’s done to you plenty times before.

Fuck he’s so turned on. You’re so fucking hot to him like this, in control of the situation so completely that he can’t even touch you? He nods up at you, eyes squinting in on where your hands idly toy with the hem of his boxers, assumedly awaiting his go ahead.

“Uh, yeah, fuck. Sure. Please, even.” He laughs to himself, but it’s halfhearted at best. Quickly transitioning into a lewd gasp when your hand makes contact with his bear cock, his hips instinctively lifting to aid you in getting his underwear completely off. Once they’re thrown to the side he hisses into the cold air that greets his wet cock, choking on a moan when you press a finger to the back of his tip to pull him towards you, letting go only to make him heave at the slap of his cock against his tummy. The lewd trail of precum connecting his tip to his belly button is quickly collected by your finger, the sight of you pressing it to your puckered lips sends him over the edge, and he grits his teeth in return. It’s unfair, he thinks. How you’re too hot for him to handle, how you know exactly how to get to him like this. A curse and a blessing, though right now he’s inclined to believe the former to be more true. He knows that to be the truth when it’s him treating you the way you deserve.

The sound of your hum pulls him from his selfish thoughts and he looks up at your face, only to be greeted by the hunger present in your gaze staring right at his cock. Your hand is so close, hovering right next to his cock that he almost twists his hips to the side so that you’re forced to grab it; but he refrains. Holds off, preferring to offer you the full control that it seems like you want.

“So pretty.” You muse to yourself, and he instantly looks away from you, feeling all hot and bothered by being called something so… Well, additionally feminine. “You're so pretty, Alex. so big and strong and pretty,” It’s not that he dislikes the term at all, but rather that he’s never been called it before in his life. Fuck, he laughs internally. You’ve got him feeling like some kind of shy kid, all embarrassed about being complimented when it’s usually his favourite thing in the world. He’s used to compliments due to his rigorous workout routine, but here you are calling him with his cock out of all things pretty. “Wanna make you feel as pretty as I think you are, okay?”

And he can’t compete with your wishes, nodding shyly without glancing back at you. The coil in his tummy convinces him that it’s a good feeling, actually. That he likes being pretty, particularly if it’s coming from you. Because you’re pretty too, and he trusts your judgement above all else. Even if your judgement has him all shy and blushy, unable to meet your eyes until he feels the pressure of your palm gripping his hot and heavy length and he’s once again pulled to you, like a fucking magnet. God, he loves you so much. Loves the way you flutter your eyelashes in his direction, drinking in the sight of him so unsure and giving his cock a reassuring squeeze, an unspoken it’s okay, promise, and he immediately falls back into you.

“Yeah? Y’think so?” he regains some composure, trying to return to the cocky confident attitude he’s used to, but the glide of your hand up and down his exposed cock is enough to convince him to shut up; be honest. “Ah, fuck—" he lets slip, eyes rolling due to finally being touched like this, the full weight of your hand wrapped snug around his girth coaxing him to dribble more pre, feeling it roll down his length for your little fist to pick up. He loves the sight of it a bit too much, probably. How small you are in comparison to him, how even your hands pale in comparison to his cock. Old habits surface and he wants to bully you lightly about it like he usually does, cooing sweetly about how he has no idea how you take him so well, but you distract him by tucking some hair behind your ears before drooling onto his tip— as if there wasn’t enough lubrication as is. “You do so much for me,” you whisper sweetly after spitting, “Let me repay your efforts.”

Dirty, such a gross sight that he’s got no choice but to buck into the vulgar act: because he likes it. Loves when you act like this, all slutty and depraved, hiding behind an act of innocence when allowing your drool to dribble down his cock for fist collection like his pre. Usually it’s him that acts like a dog in heat, rutting and rubbing himself on you every chance he gets— but to have you acting like the one starved is so fucking pretty to him. Talk about being pretty, even as you’re doing something so perverted like using your own spit to jack him off with, you still look like an angel to him. Has his head all cloudy, unable to focus on anything other than the slick sounds of your tiny hand stroking his fat length fully, collecting all the oozing pre to leave his cock all wet and shiny and feeling so fucking good oh my God; he could probably cum for you already, feeling so vulnerable from the role reversal. Your intentions to treat him tonight have already been fulfilled, and he has to let you know somehow.

Leaning forward as much as possible as is allowed with his upper arms pinned behind his back, his hips try to jut with the motion. Further into your magic touch, chewing at the inside of his cheeks to keep his moans in check; doesn’t want to be too noisy this early on in your (un)kind treatment. Slowly, he inches closer to you, automatically tilting his head to the side as he nears your lips. “Just one?” He asks softly, whispered against your skin as you in turn move to face him in kindness. It’s slow, calculated and soft, barely existing between due to how difficult it is for him to keep this forward position, prompting him to moan into the kiss. His arms bulge with his cock, straining to keep as close to you as possible so as to kiss you more, his tongue peeking out for just a second before he immediately falls back with a muted oof. Still, the feeling of your lips on his has him weak in the knees, only filling him with more primal desire to please you, a low and long whine crawling up his chest as your pace on his cock quickens. A wet slick sound soon fills the room to rival his whines, pairing nicely with the cute gasp you let out when his hips jerk harsher into your closed fist. It’s clear how badly he wants— no, needs you to continue, grinding his teeth together in an effort to shut himself up, but it’s pointless. You’re so good at getting him off, jerking his cock so perfectly that it’s impossible for him to shut up about it as more moans spill from his dry throat.

And just as he’s getting into it, you stop. Of fucking course, a greedy gasp escaping his now open mouth at the sudden loss of contact. He wants to whine more about it, thrust his bobbing cock back into your hand, beg for some more attention— don’t you see how pretty he is? But just before he has a chance to embarrass himself for you he notices the way you sit back, trailing your hands up to your own underwear and peeling them off, not missing the string of slick keeping them connected to your cunt— “Oh, shit…” He heaves, unable to look at anything other than your perfect angel cunt, tongue clicking against his teeth in habit before he gives you a wolf whistle. “Fuckin’ perfect, God, need you so bad.” He mutters, more to himself than anything else, but he’s happy to hear that you’ve heard him when you lightly scold him to be patient.

Easy for you to say from your position, you’re not the one tied up and exposed, you aren’t currently riled up beyond belief with no way to resolve the issue. But nonetheless, he listens. Because he loves you, and if you want to spend Valentines day bullying him then he’ll play along.

Next is your top, thrown in the swiftly increasing pile of clothing on the floor. His vision switches to your tits, mouth watering at the sight of them, tongue lolling out a little at the urge he has to nip at them like usual. And through routine, he tries to reach out for them; only for a frustrated groan to swiftly follow when he’s reminded of his pinned position. “So pretty, shit— please tell me you’ve got more planned?” he practically pouts up at you, only looking at your face briefly before nodding down at your cunt, a crass gesture but he’s not got much more choice here. “Wanna be inside ya, please, baby—”

More begging wants to follow, but he shuts up at soon as you start moving towards him too, shifting your knees to either side of him and situating your cunt above his cock so dangerously close that he’s sure all it’d take is a quick fuck of his hips upwards for him to get exactly what he wants, but your hands on his chest for stability remind him of your previous words. Patience.

“Do you, now?” You taunt him from above, sexy smirk prompting his eyes to roll to the back of his skull again in sheer sexual restlessness.

“Mhm, want it so bad you don’t understand— huh?”

Cut off by the feeling of something on his tip, he cranes his neck to look between your legs only to be met by the sight of your slick dripping down over his cock, wetting him further with your own sweet juices. It’s immediately too much for him, balls tight with need to claim you as his own, to fill you so full of love that it starts gushing out of you, because it’s what you deserve. But you’re being so slow with it, taking your time to take what you own, and he both hates it and loves it at the same time. Hates how he can’t still his rapidly beating heart, or the ache in his cock to be buried so deep in your cunt that you can’t remember your own name. Loves the way your slow treatment has him acting up, got him so desperate for just an inch inside your tight little hole that he’d do just about anything for a taste by now. In love with you and how you make him wait, knowing deep down despite his frustrations that the wait will be worth it— because it’s you.

And yet still, having you rest your tits against his chest, his lips automatically finding your own while you lower your hips minimally, fucking— he can’t fucking focus when you kiss him like this, slow to catch up to the feeling of your hole threatening to engulf his cock; instead you just circle his tip with your cunt, rubbing up and down on it without allowing him entry, and he’d love to remedy that by humping until he catches your hole, but your tongue slips into his parted lips and he can’t quite seem to remember what he was about to do. Too hypnotised by the way your tongue glides against his own, the sloppy sounds of your lips smacking against his, how your saliva tastes when it drips down his tongue and he swallows it back his throat. Obviously, he grows feverish for you. Making out with you as you hump his cock to your hearts content, treating him more like a toy than your loving boyfriend; and he loves it. Fuck, use him all night if it means feeling this good, gently nibbling on your bottom lip during the kiss to show his gratitude.

So it’s no surprise that you catch him off guard when you finally sit down on his cock, just the tip at first to warm him up, but the previous teasing and shared heated kiss has him so aroused that he has to beg you not to move in fear of shooting his load far too early. Wants to be able to give you all of himself before cumming, throwing his head back to try and focus on staying composed enough to last for as long as you want, but you make it difficult by squeezing your cunt around his already profusely leaking tip.

“Fuck, w-wait— shit, uh, hold on—” he continues, huffing and heaving with heat in his chest; he doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on in his life. “Feel— you feel too fuckin’ good, need a minute.” He breathlessly laughs, fighting the urge to fuck his cock inside you with one swift thrust, failing when he still humps up into you just a little. Enough to knock you off balance, but not enough to fully bury himself inside of you. No, that pleasure is all yours.

“Alex—” you gasp, all cute and breathy and he realises just how challenging it’s going to be not to take charge tonight. The desperate tone of your voice, how drawn out and pretty his name sounds falling from your lips; he’s having a rough time not taking care of you right now and he’s sure it shows from how hard his cock flexes inside of you.

All he can do is breathe. Try to collect himself enough to calm down, but it’s only a few more seconds of waiting before you’re lifting yourself up off his cock on your own accord, one eye squinting as he tries to find the words to ask you to hold on but they get stuck in his throat when you sit all the way down fast and hard, cunt completely wrapped around his fat cock so fast that he can’t stop his hips from matching your movement in a swift fuck upwards— seemingly setting the pace as you bounce up and back down his cock, only for him to return to motion on pure instinct alone.

And it’s stupid, really. A dumb move for him to make even if he couldn’t help it, because he’s already so close to cumming, and now you’re bouncing on his cock so expertly that he can’t see anything for a moment due to his eyes squeezing shut. You’re so soft and warm inside it’s insane, drives him nuts to have your walls pulse and constrict around his greedy cock so snugly, to open his eyes and watch your tits tease him with every bounce you make in his lap, your face scrunched up in sheer pleasure with that pretty smile plastered on your lips.

He’s so in love, that’s his excuse. The reason he’s babbling praise and attempting to escape his rope bindings is because he’s so in love with you that it’s physically painful not to show you. Sure, he can say it; “Don’t fuckin’ stop, no matter what.” He contradicts his earlier begs. “So tight for me, fuck, look at your tits—” his voice strains, interspersed with too loud moans that rival the bed squeaks as he fucks you from below just as much as you bounce on top of him. But nothing compares to grabbing you, pinching and prodding the fat of your thighs, leaving a trail of saliva on your chest from hot kisses; he hopes you pick up on his want for more.

Only you could have him feel like he’s melting, rolling his hips into you so sloppily, a complete mess of drool and slick and moans. You only make matters worse for him when you adopt a sultry tone, like you aren’t as fucked as he is which he hopes isn’t the case because he’s so so close he can feel it, crawling up from his spine to his tip, cock trembling in your tight messy cunt; right on the edge already— “Oh?” Your nails dig into him with your gasp, and he keens for you. A high pitched whine responding in place of anything coherent, because your cunt walls refuse to let him sound anything other than pleasepleaseplease oh fuck please— “You look— look like you’re enjoying yourself—” you moan, and he is! God, maybe a bit too much given how he paws at his own back skin, arms surely red raw from how desperately he attempts to escape the ropes, feet digging into the sheets to cause him to slip down a little on the bed and oh; the new angle you’re able to fuck him in is deeper, your plush insides sucking his cock off too well for him to handle as he sobs for you. The wet skin on skin smack rings in his ears, balls slapping against your ass as you ride him hot and heavy. Too much—

“Close— God, fuck—” he cuts himself off with a deep inhale, expression contorting into one of anger as instinct takes over, his hips driving into you with enough speed to leave you merely hanging on to his neck as he knocks you over on top of him, allowing him to send his appreciation over your perfect little hole directly down your ear. “Gonna cum, angel. Makin’ me feel so good, fuck, m’sorry—” he babbles, thrusting into you once, twice more before he’s spilling. The sweet praise you send his way does little to quell the fire in his tummy, causing his hips to stutter into you when you whisper “Pretty boy, thank you—”. Shooting his fat load right against your cervix with snapped thrusts, humping himself stupid with how he doesn’t slow down in the slightest; riding his high for all he’s worth as your sloppy hole milks him dry. And even when he’s empty he keeps fucking into you with short thrusts, leaving you able to sit on him again with the tiny bounces he has you sit through.

Silence falls following. With how hard he’s fucked you it’s no wonder he can’t catch his breath, struggling to say much of anything other than sorry and thank you as he comes down from his high. He’d like to thank you better, of course, but there’s no way he could ever make it up to you other than by making you cum as hard as you’ve allowed him to, so he sucks in as much air as he can and begs you again.

“Lemme— can you uh, untie me?” he huffs, hair sticking to his forehead with exertion, sweat shiny on his chest. “Wanna make you feel good too, deserve it.” He mumbles, exhaustion present in his body, but the good kind. The type that screams: just had the best sex of my life, and he’d adore to make you feel the same way.

But rather than answering him with words, your body does all the talking he needs. A slow pace to start, but it’s enough stimulation to leave him wincing. His voice is shaky and rushed when he asks what you’re doing, “Baby, c’mon…” he tries to bargain with you in spite of your gradually increasing pace, the lazy way in which you trace circles against his chest almost coaxes him to give in to you, but you’ve fucked him right into overstimulation. Empty. And when he regards you with confusion he’s only met with a serious glance. One of determination, like you’re communicating that you’re not done, you haven’t came yet.

And while he appreciates the sentiment, his cock is already spent. Sure, he’s still hard, but he’s came so much that it drips out your tight little hole and down to his balls, sounding a sickeningly sweet squelch every time you drop back down in his lap. It’s hard to ignore how hot that is, even as he tries to withdraw his hips. “I-I’ve got nothing— fuuuuck— don’t got nothing left for ya, I—”

“I know.” You reply simply, but so sweetly that the innocence dripping from your threat leaves him dazed, hips automatically circling inside your hole to stir your insides up like how your words have his heart stirred. “You’re so cute when you cum, Alex.” You compliment him, knowing that he’s so starved for your affection despite receiving it in droves that that’s all it takes to get him back on track.

That’s all there is to it, he supposes. You know he’s spent, and so he does his best to steel himself for your bullying but fuck if he isn’t sore. Pained whines escaping his exhausted throat, still rock hard and pressing insistently against your insides, shoving his cum further into your cute cunt every time you impale yourself on his cock. Tip all red and angry and still drooling for you, mingling pre with his seed, tears welling in his eyes from the too good feeling emanating from his cock. It travels down to his balls too, leaving them all taut despite how he’s just emptied them. “I don’t— don’t think I can go for much longer, babe.” He cringes at himself, how he sounds like a bitch in heat instead of you, the way he stutters and stops and moans between his begging. And to humiliate him some more you do exactly as he’s asked for and stop, sitting stationary on his worn out cock only to warm him.

“Ah, fuck, wait—!” he scrambles, the overwhelming heat of your cunt leaving his cock all tingly, an unbearable feeling of unrest sitting thickly in his chest. “Keep going, please, I’ll do m’best fr’ya.” He tries to convince you, and given that you’ve yet to cum he figures you’ll easily give in.

“Promise, baby. Just— Keep fuckin’ me. Feels so good, promise.” He sniffs through sobs, the stupidly good feeling of your gushy insides prompting tears to stain his cheek, rolling down in fat globs like how his tip dirties your insides, weeping for you to keep abusing him until you’re satisfied. And he’s not sure if it’s his words or his sobs that convince you to keep going, but the way you so tenderly cup his cheek and kiss his tears away before starting an unfairly brutal pace leaves him dumb; so it doesn’t really matter. The small “Cute.” You mutter against his cheek has his blushing again, and all he knows is that you’re bouncing on his cock and he feels good, his hips trying to match your pace as you take to grinding while humping his cock but he fails so miserably that another cry wracks through him, frustrated with need and unable to do anything about it.

Despite it all though, he loves you and the way you’re making him feel. The itch in his fingers to drag you down his cock and keep you there, instead fucking into your filled up hole while you cry for him drives him insane, sobbing and moaning in tandem with the gush of your cunt, drinking up all your lewd moans hushed against his chest as you focused solely on getting yourself off, using his cock like some sort of dildo and leaving him a downright deplorable mess of fluids is insanely sexy to him. And in spite of the pain you fuck out of him, it’s good. Delicious stings of hurt that only convince his cock to remain hard, to continue trying to fuck your pretty little hole with mistimed thrusts as you grind his pelvis— he knows you’re close when you start to shake in his lap, by the way you hold your breath against his chest.

“Please, gimmie it.” He asks for your orgasm, doubling his efforts to make you cum even if his hips draw back further every time he buries balls deep inside you again due to the pangs of pain. “Need t’feel ya cream my cock, angel. C’mon, y’can do it.” He slurs, a few more tears streaming down his face from exasperation.

But when you do eventually cum, he’s all smiles. Can’t fight the twitch of his lips as he beams down at you, even if you can’t see it. You just make him feel that good, y’know? Like he can’t fight his more primal nature when it concerns you, humping into you to help you ride out your high like you deserve, because you’ve treated him with such kindness tonight that he’d be stupid not to offer you the same treatment back. The sound of his name falling from your pretty plush lips is thanks enough, he thinks, and your drool on his chest is just extra.

He gives you space to come down even though you didn’t offer him the same— mostly because he can’t imagine going again after the overstimulation you’ve made him endure tonight. And he’d hug you if he could, pet your hair and call you a good girl, but he’s afraid to speak over the sniffs and sighs you’ve fucked him into. Besides, the moment is tender enough that he doesn’t feel the need to reassure you; the sticky mess between your thighs should be comfort enough. For now, he’s content just to kiss the top of your head with his eyes closed, smile never leaving his face as you wiggle softly in his lap, enjoying the remnants of your orgasm in the silent comfort he provides.

That is until you twinge around him. A soft movement, almost as if you were just moving around to find the most comfortable position against him, but he knows you better than that by now. His face falls as your cunt squirms around his cock, immediate anxiety taking hold in his chest that easily resolves into horny tension when you coo against him: “Too pretty, wanna go again.”

“Okay babe.” He grunts, sucking his tears up and rolling his eyes back all at once. “Okay, c’mon angel. Make me feel good again, kay?”

#sdv smut #sdv alex smut #stardew valley smut #stardew valley alex smut

[clu-ven]

Hey Clu!! No idea if you are taking requests (so sorry! 😓), but if you are... (or even if you are not then maybe it can be some food for thought lol)...

So you know how you did HCs for TBB accidentally walking in on the reader changing? What if it was the other way around where the reader walked in on TBB boys changing? (Can be suggestive too if you want) 🤭🤭

Anyways, i will just leave this here, hope you are doing well!! 🩷🥰

☆ Ka'ra

thank you so much for the request!! Hope you enjoy, sending some good vibes your way! <3

-> 1.8k words ! kinda suggestive (mention of some clone butt hehe) <-

You just wanted to help out, honest! After a long mission on a dusty planet, you decided to do the Batch a favour and bring their laundry to their respective bunks. It’s an easy errand but you hoped the Batch would appreciate it nonetheless, giving each of them one less chore to do.

With only one more drop off, you didn’t think anything could go wrong… until you forget to knock, entering the room unannounced and being greeted by a half naked trooper.

HUNTER

He senses you just before the door slides open, your scent giving away how close you are. While he’s still shirtless, Hunter makes sure his pants are on properly, using his second long warning to do the fly of his pants. 

These mere few seconds are vital to Hunter and when the door finally opens, allowing you to obliviously step inside before noticing him, Hunter’s already prepared, trying his best to seem calm.

When you enter, all you see is Hunter awkwardly standing there as if awaiting your arrival… and shirtless?!  You’re more taken aback than him, your eyes going wide before you hurriedly cast your gaze down to the floor. 

Trying not to stumble over your words, you explain that you were just bringing in some of his clothes, gesturing to the folded stack in your arms. He gives you a short nod “Oh, yeah… thanks”. 

You’re determined to keep your gaze firmly fixed on the floor throughout this entire interaction… but when Hunter tucks his clothes underneath his arm, you notice it. A light trail of dark brown hair on his lower torso leading down to the waistband of his pants.

Unfortunately for you, Hunter catches your lingering gaze. Clearing his throat, he asks “Are you going to keep staring or…”. Immediately snapping into action, you bring your gaze up to his eyes, missing the playful smirk on his lips. 

“S-sorry Sarge! I’ll.. uh, I’ll leave you be” backtracking out of the room, you leave as quickly as you can, not wanting Hunter to see how red your face is getting.

Now it’s Hunter’s turn to be taken aback. He knows he’s not the best at it but that was his attempt at flirting with you. 

He’ll be honest, he isn’t too sure what he was insinuating other than you staying a bit longer, but he thought it sounded pretty good.

Shrugging, Hunter continues to get dressed, making a mental note to work on his flirting skills before trying his luck with you again.

TECH

Tech is a competent man. Put him in any type of situation and he’ll come up with a plan A, B and C. And even if none of those work, Tech can usually figure out a quick alternative. 

But this, this isn’t something Tech has ever prepared for. Being on the Marauder after another successful mission means his guard is down, and since the mission was quite strenuous, he’s tired. So it’s safe to say his brain isn’t functioning at its highest ability, exhaustion starting to kick in.

When the door starts to slide open, it’s like his life flashes before his eyes. Tech’s first priority is pulling up his pants, something he was in the middle of doing when the door first began to move. 

Tech manages to successfully get them up but not without knocking himself off balance. By the time you step into the room, Tech is on the floor, hands determined to keep his pants up as he groans in annoyance.

You’re not really shocked by this, you’re more confused, wondering why Tech is shirtless and currently faceplanting the floor. 

”You want some help?” you ask, holding the clothes in one hand and offering Tech your other. With a sigh, he accepts, placing his hand on your forearm and vice versa. He tries to avoid eye contact when standing, the sheer embarrassment of falling overtaking the embarrassment of you walking on in him while changing.

Taking a moment to compose himself, Tech speaks “This… this never happened, understood?”. You can tell he’s flustered and so you swiftly play along. “What never happened?” you shoot him a quick wink, handing him his clothes. 

“The last thirty seconds, the fact that when you entered, I was… you’re teasing me, aren’t you?” he runs a hand down his face, internally cursing himself.

You go to put a hand on his shoulder, something you usually do but you stop yourself, not wanting to cross any boundaries. “Don’t worry, I won’t mention this ever again” you give him a reassuring smile before exiting the room. 

Well, Tech is positive that couldn’t have gone any worse.

WRECKER

Strangely enough, Wrecker’s reaction is the complete opposite to how he would react if your roles were reserved. He’s cool, calm and collected. 

At this point in his life, if he got embarrassed every time someone walked in on him changing, Wrecker wouldn’t be able to function.

With his back to the door, he hears the whoosh of it sliding open… but he’s in no rush.

It’s just you, Tech and Echo on board with him, and Wrecker’s very comfortable around all of you so he doesn’t see any need to worry about this.

Looking up from the folded clothes, you're greeted by the sight of Wrecker’s butt doing a little jiggle as he finishes pulling up his pants. Your mouth automatically drops open. 

Out of everything you could have seen, this is the most surprising… which is saying a lot when you’re travelling with Clone Force 99.

Glancing over his shoulder, he gives a loud laugh “Enjoying the show?”. Wrecker’s the definition of playful. He doesn’t mean any harm, taking an otherwise awkward situation and deciding to make light of it. 

As you blurt out an apology (for looking? For walking in? You’re not sure… both?!), Wrecker turns to face you and waves his hand. ”Nah, no need for that,” he dismisses, leaving out another laugh “it’s alright… huh, guess I forgot to lock the door again”. 

He’s still standing there shirtless, a happy smile on his face as he takes his pile of clean clothes from you. 

Afterwards, there’s absolutely no awkwardness, Wrecker’s good sense of humour making this an easy predicament to move on from. While it doesn’t take long for Wrecker to forget about the situation, it’s going to take you a while to get the image of his jiggling butt out of your head.

ECHO

Echo’s in a world of his own, deep in thought. Leaving out a sigh as he yanks up his pants, Echo doesn’t even pay attention to the door’s loud whoosh as it opens.

When you step into the room and see Echo, shirtless and with his back to you, you involuntarily leave out an “Oh!” noise, already cringing at the fact you forgot to knock first.

Your voice catches him off guard but he’s quick to jump into action. As Echo turns to face you, he grabs the closest thing to him, something from one of the other bunks in the hopes of using it to cover his chest.

He knows he doesn’t need to cover up, you’ve seen chests before. In fact, it was only last week you had to patch up the side of Tech’s abdomen because of a pretty rough tumble he had. 

It’s more of an instinctive reaction. Echo knows you didn’t come in here to see him half naked and so he tries his best to cover up any bare skin you don’t usually see. 

But with Echo’s amazing luck, the closest thing he picks up happens to be Lula the tooka doll. 

Realising he’s holding Lula, Echo leaves out a similar “Oh” noise to yours, though his is much gruffer. Slowly meeting your gaze, he gives you an apologetic look.

He knows this is an awkward predicament that neither of you wanted to be in though Echo’s not exactly sure how to get out of it. “Well…” he glances down at Lula, shrugging “this isn’t a situation I expected to be in today”.

Smiling, you nod your head “Me neither, but I did bring you some spare clothes”.

Echo thanks you for the clothes but keeps it to a minimum, knowing you probably want to get out of there as fast as possible. 

If you two are close and have been friends for a long time, Echo might make more of a joke out of it, hoping that’ll ease any embarrassment. Raising his eyebrow, he playfully accuses “Oh you came in here on purpose, didn’t you? Tryna catch a glimpse of me”. He tuts, shaking his head.

All Echo wants to do is move on from this in the hopes the awkwardness doesn’t linger. Even afterwards, Echo tries not to accidentally dwell on this by giving you more apologetic looks throughout the day. Instead, he tries his best to forget it ever happened.

CROSSHAIR

This isn’t a big deal to Crosshair. He knows you’ve been around clones for a while now, both enhanced ones as well as regs. So he’s presuming you’ve seen a lot of skin when it comes to the clones, whether that be due to injury, working out together or other activities.

Although he’s taken aback when you enter, Crosshair doesn’t show it, raising an eyebrow at you in an expectant manner.

You, on the other hand, aren’t so calm. Your surprised expression is hard to hide, your eyes instinctively flicking down his torso before meeting his gaze again.

“Sorry!” You blurt out “I was just bringing in some laundry”. The second you hold out the folded clothes, Crosshair snatches them, indirectly giving you a better look at his sculpted body.

Dropping the pile on his bunk, Crosshair lets out a long sigh, feigning annoyance as he comments “You’re staring”.

If your face wasn’t blushing red beforehand, it definitely is now. Stumbling over your words, you try to apologise (again) but you stop when you realise he’s laughing.

Letting out a low chuckle, Crosshair continues “What is it? See something you like?”. Seeing you blush only makes him want to keep going, spurring him on to see just how flustered he can make you. 

Your brain can’t even compute a response to that, your words failing you. 

Before you can leave, Crosshair stalks towards you, stopping just a mere few inches away from you. For a moment, he simply stands there, resting one of his arms on the doorframe, his figure towering over you.

Bringing his other arm up, he hooks a single finger under your chin before closing your gaping mouth. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out” he smirks, taking a moment to savour your flustered expression before backing away again.

#the bad batch #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #bad batch x reader #the bad batch echo #bad batch echo #clone trooper echo #echo the bad batch #echo x you #the bad batch hunter #the bad batch hunter x you #sergeant hunter x you #sergeant hunter #the bad batch tech #tech the bad batch #tech x reader #the bad batch headcanons #the bad batch wrecker #wrecker x reader #wrecker the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #the bad batch crosshair #crosshair the bad batch #crosshair x reader #sw tbb

[wayfayrr]

If requests for Tears are still open I'd like to request him comforting reader.

Not the reader is crying and needs comfort type of thing. More like reader is kinda just shutting down a bit and stops working properly that day kind of thing, if you get what I mean. And as he is so caring maybe he'd make a flowercrown for reader? Or prepare their favourite meal? Just being supportive you know? Or whatever you imagine him to do!

Please and thank you. If you don't want to do it just delete it.

of course anon, I hope you're doing alright and if you ever want to talk to someone my dm's are open. <3

But this got a bit longer than I originally planned reaching just about 1K words but I tried to show how caring he can be

With how long we’ve been walking now, it shouldn’t be long till we settle down and make a camp for the evening although it’s not like I’ve got the best sense of time right now. We could have been moving for only half an hour and I wouldn’t be surprised without a clock. I've always been a bit time blind. 

“[na]- wh… -op” 

Is someone shaking my shoulder? We’re still moving aren’t we, did they spot something to show m-

“Where are you trying to go- [name] you just kept walking even when all of the others stopped and started settling down, it’s like you weren’t all there.”

“We stopped already?”

He looks so concerned, his eyes are already watering and although with anyone else it’d seem manipulative but with him? He doesn’t even know that he’s crying most of the time. 

“Yeah, Wild’s even got a fire going but you just kept moving, what’s going on, you haven’t been hit by something have you? Nothing that’s made you feel weird?”

I didn’t do as good a job of hiding it as I thought; if tears has been able to see that something’s wrong then… 

“Please, I don’t know what’s hurt you so much but I and the others are all here for you. You don’t have to bury everything and deal with whatever it is alone.”

“I-”

“Come back to camp with me though? We don’t have to talk but I, well I don’t really want to leave you on your own right now.”

Looking down, I’m greeted with a held out hand, he’s leaving it up to me to take it or not. Granted it’s not like there’s a situation I wouldn’t. It’s incredible how quickly he laces our fingers together when I took it though, the grin on his face as he does it making me feel a little fuzzy too. 

“I’ve got plenty of ingredients, if there’s anything you want I’ll make you it, or we can sit by the fire, or we could go sit somewhere separate to talk for a bit? Whatever you want, just say the word.”

“Could, can we just go be alone for a bit… I -sigh-  I don’t think I wanna be around the others right now.”

Not even a word had to be said as he nodded; gently running his thumb over the back of my palm. Leading us away with just a tilt of his head to the rest cluing them into what he’s doing. Next thing I know he's tugging me to sit next to a new campfire? When did that - am I really zoning out this badly consistently? He isn't treating me like there's something wrong with me though, he's just… here. Giving me the options for what I want to do, what I'm comfortable to share; it's nice. 

Sitting down next to him feels natural, leaning onto him even more so as he rests his arm around me reaching for my hand to trace lazy circles on it. 

“What can I make for you then [name], I heard you talking about pizza not really being a thing here but… well I’ve had it a couple of times so if you want I can make you some, or I’ve got some stored away so you could have that while we talk?”

“There a reason why you keep so much in your pad?”

“I well I… It's well… I keep it for times like this, if anyone needs a pick-me up quickly and since you've talked about pizza so much I thought that it'd be the best one to keep for you! I still don't know your favourite food so I just thought, until I learn your favourites, this would work.”

The nervousness in his voice is kind of endearing, the fact that he’s put so much thought into comforting someone he’s known for barely a week even more. He is a link though, so the fact that he’s a good person shouldn’t be all that surprising to me, not when I’ve both seen how the others act and played through his game myself. It’s different being able to live through it though, that’s for certain. It’s so comfortable here though; I can almost feel my eyelids drooping.

“I’ll get you something, I don’t think you’ve eaten today with how little you were here so you really should have something before you fall asleep sundelion.”

“Mhm, guess you have a point.”

“I've been worried about you you know? I know I probably don't have much right to be seeing as we haven't known each other all that long but I want you to know I really do care about you and that between me and the others you don't have to deal with whatever is bothering you alone.”

“It’s just thoughts, ‘m not exactly sure how to explain them.”

“Well, I won’t push, if you don’t want to share then you don’t have to. I’m not going to force you to do anything either way, just remember that I’m here if you ever figure out how to explain it.” 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, whenever you want.”

“Think I’m just gonna lie here for a bit before I decide.”

That seemed to reward me with a gentle nudge and a tiny - near unnoticeable - frown, not that I really know what caused… Oh, right, he said he thought it best that I eat something didn’t he? I shouldn’t be all that surprised he’s handing me a plate of food. 

“You don’t have to have it after all, I’m not even entirely sure it’s something you like. If it isn’t though I can make you something else!”

“No, no this is lovely. I can’t remember how long it’s been since I’ve had something like this, I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.”

“You aren’t, I can promise you that.”

“But you’re doing all of this when I bet you’re tired too.”

“And you’re forgetting that I was the one who decided to do this, and even if you ever were a ‘burden’ you would be one I would forever choose to carry.”

#he is soft #if a bit permanantly teary eyed #he will cry at the slightest emotion #moss✦writes #linked universe x reader #link x reader #totk link x reader #totk x reader #lu tears

[ino-tamukas-baggy-sweater]

A Second Chance, A Father's Curse - Part 4 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

haha sorry it's a bit shorter than usual I've been really off my sleep schedule, it is 12.30am as i type this and i SHOULD be fixing my sleep schedule but i'm not bcuz i hate myself :)

Part 3 here

Warnings: Brief panic attacks, really shitty time skips because I'm bad at continuity, nothing else really (I promise this story will kick off soon)

Word Count: 3k

“Consequences be damned, we’re husband and wife now,” He murmurs, pressing a kiss to your temple that makes the crowd erupt into cheers. A bright smile crosses your lips and you nestle into his side, waving out at the crowd with him, before your father nudges you to stand at the podium beside Gojo.

You take a breath, feeling the sorcerer’s energy channel at your throat as he amplifies your voice, “Dearest Iqorians!” You say, “My beloved people, you have been nothing but kind to me as I have grown within the palace walls, and I understand the newest addition to our family was unexpected and may cause a stir, but I hope you can find it in yourself to continue trusting us,” The crowd has fallen to a quiet murmur as you speak.

“Ryomen L/n is our new Prince, my husband, and I want him to feel welcomed here,” You take his hand and pull him up to stand beside you, “He bears the tattoos of the L/n clan, and if that isn’t enough for you to trust him as much as you trust me, then I don’t know how else to convince you. Trust me as your lady, as your princess, that this man will strive to protect anyone who calls Iqoria home and will be a valuable addition to our defense and strengthen our nation,”

The cheers have grown almost deafening and you take it as a good sign, “We look forward to serving you as Prince and Princess for the long future ahead!”

The speech has drained your energy and you allow yourself to be herded back inside where Ryomen presses a kiss to your lips for the first time since your wedding day. You nudge into his space and lean your head up, following his lead for a moment before he pulls back, “You looked sexy up there,” He smirks, causing a blush to flare up on your cheeks.

You poke him gently, “Ryomen!” You scold, “You never know who could be listening,” He shrugs, “You’re my wife, aren’t you? I’m allowed to compliment you if I please,” Your cheeks hurt from how much you’ve been smiling and you feel emotionally charged, “Well… then I appreciate it,” You nod with satisfaction.

He pulls you back to his chest and you nestle yourself under his chin, breathing softly in the open silence. There are no more words, at least not for today, and you both quietly make your way back to your rooms where a large lunch has been set out for you to share in peaceful private.

-

“Why can’t I go see him?” “He is the Crown Prince my dear, he is tired and they need time to themselves after the long session,” You bury your face against your mothers skirts, “But I want to see him!” You whine.

Your mother sighs softly, petting the back of your head as she crouches down to look into your watery eyes, “Oh my dear,” She murmurs, brushing your tears away with her thumbs, “I am sure he misses you dearly, but we must let him rest as long as he needs, it is a taxing process, one which you will have to endure one day as well,”

You shake your head indignantly, “Nuh uh! I won’t get married, boys are mean!” “And B/n?” She smiles, her eyes twinkling, and you stutter, “B-but he’s different!” She pulls you into a hug, “And one day you may find another man like your brother who is, as you say, different. You just have to keep your mind open,” You roll your eyes, “Yeah yeah, I know mother,”

“I heard you were looking for me?” A voice behind you makes you break away from your mother with a grin, “B/n!” You shout, racing to him and throwing yourself into his arms. He lifts you up and spins you around a little, making you giggle with delight until he sits you on his hip and supports your body, “Did you really miss me that much?”

You nod, clutching at the shirt he’s wearing, “Of course I did! Nobody else would play with me the way you do!” The age gap between the Crown Prince and his baby sister was around thirteen years due to health complications your mother experienced after a miscarriage brought her to deaths doorstep. You were the miracle baby that brought light back into her eyes and energy into her bones.

Forced to marry and have a child young after she took the throne at around 19, she demanded respect and anyone who went against her prior to her miscarriage at age 22 often suffered great consequences. Her husband, the King, was her greatest strength and her closest ally, never overshadowing her and never once making decisions unless she specifically entrusted them to him.

Your mother was 32 years old and still ruling with a kind heart and an iron will, but there were small fractures. She knew her son was lonely, she was afraid of failing him, of failing her kingdom, should she fail to produce another child. She spent most of her pregnancy hiding it from the people until the doctors were sure you would survive to term.

And then when you finally arrived, everything fell into place. Your mother encouraged a bond between the two of you from day one and you were almost inseparable. He was fiercely protective when you were finally allowed to be seen by the people and insisted that he carry you or hold your hand when you were nervous or overwhelmed.

“Well now, we must change that!” He smirks, “Come! We shall go and play out in the gardens, I’m sure mother would like her turn to rest,” You make a quick stop in the kitchen and down in the attendants houses to collect the children of maids and attendants living in the palace before gathering in the garden for a raucous game of tag.

Your brother looked strong and ethereal with his new tattoos, you found yourself distracted by them in the few weeks to come, and he let you trace the ones on his face with your gentle fingers when he came to read you stories to help you sleep. You never asked any questions, aside from one, “Did they hurt?”

He looked down to you in bed beside him, “They hurt a little, but don’t you worry, they prove that you’re strong and you’re part of the greatest kingdom in the world,” He took a knee beside your bed as you shifted to face him better, “I give you my word as an honorable man,” You smiled brightly, “Then maybe I shall get married someday, just so we can match!”

He smiled sadly, “You should marry for the love of your partner, not for your love of me,” He brushed hair from your face, “Dear sister I love you,” You clutched your hands together, looking away shyly, “I love you too, and I promise I won’t do it just for you,”

-

“Sister must you be so rash?” His voice called out behind you and you turned, your arms crossed, “You know they mean well,” He caught up to you and you turned back to the gardens, continuing your walk. “Will you not even speak to me?”

“What is there to say? Do I get a choice of husband? I thought I was allowed to marry for love and not politics, but apparently I was wrong,” You ranted, “Mother can be so frustrating at times,” You can see him move to comfort you but he backs down at the last moment.

“I know you’re angry and upset, but you mustn’t speak to her like that, you can just tell her no and she will listen, you are not yet an adult after all,” “And what is that supposed to mean?” You spat. “Just that you are not ready for that kind of marriage, I meant no offense,”

You finally backed down a bit, crossing your arms and sulking in front of your favourite rose bush. “Sister will you look at me?” You peeked out of the corner of your eye at your elder brother, the ring on his finger catching the sunlight and twinkling cheekily as if mocking your outburst.

“I hope you will apologise to mother, you must know she would not go through with it without your explicit consent,” You felt you should have been angered further by his insistence on an apology but instead you just felt weary. “I will ask her to apologise as well, just promise me you won’t stay mad?” You nodded, if only to placate his fears. You didn’t feel like apologizing at the time, but you might.

-

You gathered your skirts, racing through the halls until you reached the stables. A quick scan revealed nothing, but you soon found him, “Brother! Must you go? So close to her birthday?” You cried, breathless. He looks up at you from where he is adjusting his gauntlets, “I’m afraid so, my cursed energy will be more helpful out there than it will be cooped up in this stone cage,”

He smiled, it was lopsided and reminded you of a rabbit, “Do not worry, I will be back soon, these cowards are nothing but rats, ambushing defenseless people in the middle of the night,” With a frown you raced closer and wrapped your arms around him, a little awkwardly because of the armour he wore but that did not deter you, “Please be safe brother, I beg,”

“I will return to you, do not let your roses die while I am away, alright?” You knew he meant more than just the physical roses you cared for in your part of the garden. You’d always been his rose, and you nodded as you pulled back, hugging yourself tightly, “I won’t let them perish,” Your voice shook but you forced your head high, displaying nothing but confidence.

You believed in his abilities, you believed more than anything that your brother would survive because he always did. “Her gift is hidden in my closet, I am sure you know where to find it,” He winks. A twinge of fear in your heart once again twisted like a knife. His daughter would miss him, she would ask where her daddy was and you would have to assure her that he would return, that he was out protecting her from the evil that roamed the earth.

She would not understand, as you had once refused to, but you would be there for her if she needed you. You stayed at the gate protected by a pair of guards until you could no longer see the light from the torches the battalion carried, allowing yourself to be gently escorted back to your rooms and what restless sleep awaited you.

-

“Your highness! Princess Y/N!” A voice behind you makes you turn from your closet to face the maid who spoke, “Yes?” She’s out of breath from running and you can see there are tears on her cheeks, “M-mail for you,” She whimpers, holding out a letter. You’ve been preparing for a dinner with the few nobles of Iqoria and wanted an out, this might be your ticket.

However you’re reluctant, considering her obvious distress, but you decide you must take the letter from her hand and unfold it. The seal is already broken from someone inspecting it and you smooth it out on your dress momentarily, lifting it to your eyes.

Dearest sister,

If this reaches you safely, then I’m afraid I am either not long for this world or already gone. Do not let my efforts in the settlements be in vain, I hear your new husband is strong? How I wish I could have met him, Gojo tells me he is raucous and proud, his energy overwhelming. I knew you’d find someone to match your energy. If only you’d married him a few weeks earlier. My sister, how I wish I could see your smile one last time. How are Mother’s tapestries coming along? How are Father’s hunting dogs? How are your roses? Do you still walk through the gardens under the stars, awaiting my return? It’s been too long since I saw you last, I fear you will be just beside my lovely wife as the last things on my mind when everything fades. I wish I could continue to protect you from the darkness, but alas I have been bested. Take care of yourself for me, take care of our people. I suppose they’re your people now, your husband will help you lead them well. I will miss you forever.

Your dearest and bravest brother.

The page is dotted with tears when you clutch it to your chest, letting out an unfiltered cry and falling to your knees. The cry evolves into something animalistic, a scream tears itself from your throat, and suddenly Ryomen and Geto are sprinting into the room, your husbands hands on your cheeks as you wail. The letter is almost beyond readable but Geto manages to pry it from your hands as Ryomen pulls you into his lap on the floor, rocking you back and forth and gently shushing you.

You grip at his shoulders, fistfuls of his shirt pressing into your palms as you gasp for air, “Someone call for her parents!” Geto orders and the same maid who delivered the letter is gone in an instant. “Oh my love,” Ryomen murmurs, brushing his hands through your hair and rubbing your back, “Please, I am here,”

You shake your head, “My brother,” You gasp, chest heaving, “The Crown Prince, he falls in battle!” You sob, your tears streaming as Ryomen stiffens. Realisation seems to hit the both of you simultaneously and you look up, suddenly devoid of the ability to cry. His wife and her daughter will remain a part of the family but as she married into the royal family she is no longer the Crown Princess.

“Hail… the Crown Prince and Princess of Iqoria,” Geto says slowly, as shocked as the pair of you are. “I…” Ryomen’s fingertips dig into your hips as he pulls you closer, tucking his face against your shoulder to hide from the maids remaining in the room, “I’m not ready for this,” He whispers, his voice shaky against your ear. Your hand shoots up to the back of his head and holds him there gently, you feel yourself breaking apart but you cannot allow yourself to grieve for what you’ve lost just yet.

“Ryomen L/n,” You murmur, “Crown Prince of the Iqorian kingdom,” “My father will come for me,” He whispers, “He never intended for this to happen, he would never let me be king, not in Khoccadia and not anywhere else,” His voice rises in panic and you gently shush him, shooing everyone out of the room.

Once alone his tears begin to fall and you rest your forehead to his, your own dripping into your lap and dampening your dress, “He has no authority here,” You say, your voice shaking with grief, “You are mine, and he will never harm you again, do you hear me?” His eyes are frantic and his breaths uneven, “Ryomen, do you hear me?”

“I was never meant to be king, he will come for me, he will do anything to prevent it! You have to let me go, I’m just putting you all in danger, please, you have to let me go!” He shifts underneath you and you struggle to keep him down for a moment, before drawing on your own cursed energy to send an unrefined wave of it at him. He gasps for breath and you plant yourself solidly on top of him, “Ryomen! Listen to me! I’m not letting you go back there on your own, you’ll be killed and I’ll never forgive myself!”

His eyes finally meet yours and you take his face between your palms, “Ryomen L/n, Iqoria is your home now, and if Iqoria needs you to be a king then you will step up by my side like I know you can, do you understand?” He nods, his lips thin and tightly pressed together, “Stay with me,” You murmur, your body and voice softening, “Please,”

“You… need me?” He murmurs, and you nod, tears slipping down your cheeks once more. You push forwards and bury your face against his chest, hands gripping him so tightly as you fear he might shove you off and walk away. “You need me,” He whispers, holding you tightly as the two of you gently fall apart in each other’s arms.

Your big brother… your big brother is gone. You just wish you could have one last time with him, you imagine all the things you would do if you knew he was going to die, but all you can seem to picture is the gardens. Stars stretching above you, love in the words unspoken and golden memories held in each precious twinkle.

The door to your room opens and your parents enter, their faces as crestfallen as yours as you peek over Ryomen’s shoulder, “Oh my darling,” Your mother sobs, stumbling to the floor by your side and burying her face against your shoulder. You reach for your mother, staying on Ryomen’s lap as you hold her close, “It was supposed to be just an ambush, what could have gone so wrong?” You whisper against her hair, feeling her body shake like a feather in the wind.

“None of that matters, it is all up to you now,” Your father murmurs, his hand on Ryomen’s back as he tries to stay strong for the three of you, “You will ascend to the throne within the year, your mother…” His words die but you know what he’s implying. Your mother and father will retire and you will step up in their place, just barely a month after marrying.

“Everything will be alright, for I will be your light,”

hope you enjoyed!

Part 5 here

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x you #ryomen sukuna #jjk x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #satoru gojo #jjk x you #sukuna x reader

[takecareluv]

a blurb where reader and vinnie are taking a nap at the beach and one of their friends posts about it cuz they’re just the cutest ❤️

a.n. thank you for sending a request, lovely. 💖 i hope you like what i came up with! a beach day with vinnie seems like a dream tbh <3 xoxo

beach cuddles || vinnie hacker x reader

for the last few weeks, you’d watch the beautiful summer weather pass you by through the small window of your office.

and when you weren’t working, you laid in bed, too tired to do anything but scroll through each and every social media platform filled with vacation photos from everyone you followed.

the most excited thing you’ve done so far this season was go in your friend’s hot tub. although it was soothing, nothing compared to the cool touch of those salty waves you so desperately craved. 

you were most definitely feeling the summer blues. and vinnie could tell. no matter how hard you tried to put on a fake smile, vinnie knew you like the back of his hand. he instantly could tell when you were feeling out of it, and this was one of those times. 

as soon as he noticed, vinnie, being the incredibly sweet boyfriend he was, began planning a day trip to malibu for you and all your friends to go on, knowing the warm sun and majestic ocean was exactly what was needed to cheer you up.

he promptly messaged everyone, tossing around a few dates to see what would work for the whole group. once everything was set and stone he finally clued you in on the plans, to which a massive smile became glued on your face, one he realized hadn’t seen in quite some time. 

you were so excited for the upcoming beach trip. no more wasting away this perfect summer, you thought. you were going to enjoy yourself even if it was just for a day.

-- 

you had been counting down the days in your calendar until you would be lounging on the soft sand you’d missed so much, and finally the day you’d been anticipating all week for had finally arrived. 

you woke up bright and early, changing into the new bathing suit you were looking forward to wearing all summer, and packing all the essentials into your hefty beach bag. you made sure to grab a fresh bottle of sunscreen, knowing how easily your precious boy burned, along with quite a few snacks and enough drinks to keep you all quenched throughout the day. 

once you, vinnie, and the rest of the group were ready, you hit the road, cruising down the coast with the windows down and upbeat music blasting through the already blown-out speakers. 

luckily you guys got there early enough to find the perfect spot to lay out your towels, close enough to the water, but still secluded from the rest of the people already settled on the beach. 

it was truly the most fantastic day; the sun was shining with not a cloud in the sky. mother nature had been on your side, much to your relief.

for hours you went back and forth between laying on the shore, soaking up the sun while reading your book, to going for a swim in the water to cool off.

you found yourself sharing a towel with vinnie, always needing the comfort of each other’s touch, as you laid in the shade for a short break from the intense sun rays.  

however your short break turned out to be a little bit longer as you both fell asleep, the heat definitely wearing you out. 

you were cuddled together, vinnie’s arms wrapped around your body to keep you close as you tucked your head in his neck to further shield your eyes from the bright sun. your friends all cooed at the sight once they returned from taking a dip in the water. 

liza especially thought the two of you looked adorable, quickly snapping a picture that she knew you would love to see, always acting as your own personal photographer.

she took the photo to instagram, knowing the fans would absolutely eat it up, adding it to her story along with the caption, “these two could fall asleep anywhere”. 

-- 

about forty-five minutes later, you woke up to an endless amount of notifications on your phone. you grew confused until you saw the photo of you and vinnie napping together reposted about a hundred times, everyone freaking out about how cute you and vinnie were together. 

you continued to scroll through the comments, even liking a few, before deciding to make a post of your own. the picture showed you smiling with vinnie still asleep in the background next you. “my sleepy boy <3″ you captioned it. this caused fans to go even crazier, always adoring the couples content since your rarely shared it. 

you and vinnie were slowly becoming the internets favorite couple, and understandably so. 

#vinnie hacker #vinnie hacker x reader #vinnie hacker imagine #vinnie hacker fanfic #vinnie hacker blurb #vinnie hacker fluff #vinnie hacker x y/n #vinnie hacker x you

[ann-writes-universes]

Hell Hath No Fury (Eris x Reader) SMUT

A/N: First time writing for Eris, be kind <3

Based on this ask

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT, Angst! (Slight mention of suicide at the very beginning)

W/C: 3k exactly

If you had known what this war would have meant for you, for your family, you would have killed yourself before it started.

Staring out the window of your forest home, wrapped in nothing but silken sheets as you awaited your mates return you wondered what it felt like to be a female like Mor, or Feyre, fighting alongside the people they loved.

You supposed Eris would never let you find out.

He was terrified of losing you, this much you knew. He often woke at night panicked that you had disappeared, desperately tossing in the sheets trying to get to your sleeping form not far away. On these nights, he would cling to you until dawn broke and he was sure you were real.

When war came, his fears only grew. Grew so immensely that he begged and pleaded with you to stay home. To let him fight for you this time as you had fought for him on those nights. This was different though wasn’t it?

Waiting on a soldier to return from war was a much more difficult feat than soothing him back to sleep.

Rain pelted the windowpanes and the sky beyond your forest home grew dark. The house was so quiet these days, so void of life, so void of love.

You had only seen your crimson haired lover once since the beginning of this mess with Hybern, and that night had been filled with fucking and sobbing so intense you were sure you would never recover.

That night was months ago, and his side of the bed had grown cold in his absence. He had written to you, of course. The letters were piled up on your nightstand, stained with tear smudged ink. From what he was allowed to write, the conflict (as he called it) was at a standstill.

‘There are no winners or losers in war Starfire.’

He had written to you once, and you supposed this much was true. Death and destruction would reside no matter the result of this war, you only hoped that your mate would return, outcome be damned.

As the sun began to find her home in the western sky you pealed yourself from bed. The emerald green sheet stayed wrapped around you as you exited your once shared bedroom and made your way towards the kitchen for tea.

You hummed a pleasant tune, one that had been played by Beron’s orchestra the night of your mating ceremony all those years ago. You stirred your tea, thinking of the memory fondly.

Perhaps a book would take your mind off of things.

Turning to walk back to your bedroom you let out a strangled scream. The mug you held fell to the floor and crashed against the hardwood in an explosion of scalding water and clay.

“Azriel, you frightened me.”

The shadowsinger was dressed in head-to-toe black leathers, a dark hood dripping with rainwater covered a majority of his face though his large wings and glowing syphons clued you in on who he was. Shadows swept across the floor and into each individual room of your home, seeking out any company you may have had. When he did not make a noise, you grew concerned. You tightened your grip on the sheet around you and stepped backwards.

“Azriel… why are you here? Is Eris hurt?” Panic seeped into your voice and at this the shadowsinger looked up, his honeyed gaze finding your wide-eyed stare.

“Eris is fine, if not a bit concerned on where his loyalties lie.”

“What do you mean Az?”

You sent a tug down the bond, a question to your mate’s health that was met with a loving stroke in return. Your heart rate slowed only minutely.

“I apologize for this (Y/N), this is the last thing I wanted to do.” Azriel whispered, his shadows retreating within him once more.

You began to sweat then and backed up further, the small of your back being met with the counter behind you.

“Azriel you’re scaring me, what is going on?” You choked out. The next tug you sent through the bond was blind panic, like a drowning man grasping for a rope. Azriel didn’t even respond, just surged forward and slammed your head into the upper cabernets so hard that your vision blurred and faded.

“I’m so sorry.”

And then the world was spinning into nothing.

--

You awoke in a room that was entirely foreign. A window was opened somewhere, and the scents of jasmine and vanilla clued you in enough as to where you were. Gone were the familiar scents of pine and woodsmoke.

Your head was throbbing, a deep and painful throb that had you groaning and rolling over in the bed that did not belong to you.

White silk wrapped around your form and the fabric felt suffocating, too hot, too constricting, too foreign.

There was a forceful tug sent down the bond that had you gasping for air and sitting up stick straight in the bed. It was dark outside, the night sky lit with millions of stars that danced happily in their places.

In reply you sent down a panicked tug.

The effort to get out of the bed was excruciating, and when you were met with nothing but a locked door the fear you felt was beginning to be replaced with anger, thick and furious.

“RHYSAND. I KNOW YOU CAN FUCKING HEAR ME.”

Your screams were accompanied with banging on the oak door until your hands were bleeding and your nails were cracked. You collapsed to your knees and let out a choked sob. What the fuck was going on? These people were supposed to be your friends.

 

“(Y/N) you must know I am sorry. I have sent a healer to the palace. They should be there soon. This was a last resort I am so sorry.”

Rhysand’s voice filled your head and you snapped up your guards instantly.

 

“Fuck you Rhysand.”

Was the only reply you offered before effectively cutting off any further communication.

War was effectively driving you all mad it seemed. That was the only excuse you could come up with for the High Lord of the Nightcourt. Despite that possibility fear and anger had tight fists on your heart.

As promised a healer came, winnowing into the room as though you would have killed them for opening the door. As if you would have known how to escape if it was opened.

You let the pretty, pale haired healer do her work, it was not her fault you were here.

Sometime during her work a great series of screams began to filter down the hallway beyond your prison. Men, screaming and fighting, throwing things and hitting one another.

The healer (her name had been Tea maybe?) grasped your hands tightly and made to stand in between your frame and the door as though her lithe body would have been able to protect you from any incoming harm.

And then you felt it.

Anxious, fearful, tugs pulling on the bond growing stronger and stronger by the second.

You let out a strangled laugh and ran to the door, resuming the pounding and screaming, effectively destroying all the work the healer had done on your hand’s moments before.

“ERIS, IM HERE.”

You were crying again, desperate to lay your eyes on him, to go home. Frantic footsteps sounded beyond the door and the next tug on the bond was enough to bring you to your knees.

“Move away from the door.”

And oh, gods it was him.

You stumbled away from the door. The healer herded you in a corner, as if the fae that would enter was going to bring the two of you harm.

With a great slam of his shoulder Eris was tumbling into the room, followed shortly by Azriel who’s face had seen better days.

Eris looked frantically around the room and when his eyes landed on your form huddled in a corner his shoulders relaxed. Rushing to you he pushed past the healer and fell to his knees before you.

His hands cupped your face and his jaw tightened when he noticed the nasty bruise forming on your forehead and the blood that was caked into your fingernails. A low growl left his throat but was quickly cut off when you threw your sobbing form into his arms and clung to him desperately.

With no further words the red headed male lifted your body to his chest and stood, cradling you to him tightly. You tucked your head into his chest and inhaled the earthy musk that was solely him.

“Tell Rhysand I will be back later to discuss this bullshit.” Eris growled, presumably to Azriel. “Touch her again and I will not hesitate to ruin this alliance. I will fucking kill you.”

And then he was winnowing you away. To Home.

He didn’t hesitate when you were safely in the walls of your home. He fell to the floor of your living room, still cradling you, and began to sob. His hands stroked your hair and ran deftly over your body, terrified that you were not really there, just a trick of the imagination.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

He repeated over and over, his face buried in your hair, his tears dampening the strands. You were shaking, clinging to him with every ounce of strength you had, terrified that he would leave the moment he knew you were alright.

 

The two of you stayed like that for a while, a teary-eyed mess on your floor. He only moved when the sun began to rise, and your body had stopped producing shuddering sobs. Gently, ever so gently he carried you to the bedroom you had been sleeping in alone for so long. And gently, ever so gently he lowered you into the sheets, retrieving a new comforter from a closet somewhere. After removing his leathers, he slid into the sheets beside you, pulling your frame into his with one arm.

The two of you slept that way for what seemed like days. Your bodies exhausted from fear and anxiety thicker than mud.

 

When you finally peeled your eyes open, it was pitch black in your room, and the only sound was Eris’s breaths coming in short and fast, a sure sign he was deep in a dreamland. You rolled over to face him and found comfort in the delicate image that was his sleeping figure. Sleep was one of the only moments where your mate’s features were relaxed. The curve of his jaw was slack, and his mouth was not set in its signature straight line. His brows were lowered and the furrow in his brow had dissipated entirely. You ran a thumb over his lips and curled further into his side, desperate to have him closer.

 

The hand that was slung over your waist tightened its grip and began to rub soothing circles in the exposed skin.

“I am so sorry Starfire…” He whispered; voice groggy from sleep. His eyes were still closed when he pressed his forehead into your own. The furrow had returned to his brow and his jaw was tight once more.

You stroked his hair, drawing your hand down to cup his chin and force his gaze to yours. Despite the darkness in the room, you read his face easily. He was terrified, angry, and confused.

“You have nothing to apologize for Eris, those actions were not your own, but the actions of a man crazed by war and desperate to keep his people safe.”

“Do not defend him lover. His actions are inexcusable.”

“I know, but I don’t want to think about it. Please.” You swallowed thickly and found the hand that was still rubbing circles into your waist. Locking eyes with your mate you took his hand in your own and guided it to the dampened apex of your legs. “Not when I have not seen you in months.”

When his fingers made contact with the wetness there, he released a low growl and captured your lips in a kiss. It was gentle, a silent promise that harm would not reach you again.

He did not hesitate in giving you what you want. Slowly, he began to rub circles into your clit, sliding his fingers through the wetness there.

You released a breathy moan into his mouth and the male swallowed it greedily. He guided you onto your back, stripping you of the remaining clothes you had on before continuing his ministrations.

His lips found purchase on your neck and began to trail downward, his free hand stroking your side, eliciting the most delicious shudders he had ever felt.

“Eris… please.” You whispered, fisting his auburn hair in a hand and urging him downward. The male chuckled but did not fight you, and when his lips finally made contact with your aching core the only thing you could do was roll your head to the side and gasp into the silk of your pillow.

He hummed at the wetness he found there and began to suck and lap at it greedily. Each sweet little moan you emitted urged the fiery male further, and by the five-minute mark he was grasping your thighs so hard his knuckles were turning white and your legs were shaking.

You were grasping and pulling for purchase anywhere the sheets, your skin, his hair, anything to ground you to this moment as he inserted a finger and began to stretch you relentlessly.

“I- I cant…” Your words were like smoke in the wind, completely lost against the work your mate was putting in. The coil in your core was beginning to tighten deliciously and your breaths were labored and short. You could feel him smiling against your sex, coaxing that moment of bliss from you greedily.

“Give it to me Starfire, just one and I’ll let you sleep.”

And the sound of his voice, gruff from misuse, sent you over the edge with a scream. You were convulsing, thighs trapping his head between them, though he didn’t seem to care. He pumped his fingers into you slowly through your orgasm and shifted until he was hovering over you, watching your pretty little face scrunch and pant.

He kissed the bruise on your forehead, fading now from that tricky little gift of advanced healing. He drug his lips across your shut lids and pressed gentle kisses behind the shell of your ears. His hands had left your aching core and were rubbing soothing circles into your hips. Your own hands were tracing his spine, playing with the soft locks of hair at the nape of his neck, and drawing constellations in the freckles on his shoulders.

“I don’t wanna sleep Eris.” You whispered into the skin of his throat before pressing a hard kiss into the junction of his collar. He groaned lowly and settled in between your legs, pressing his length firmly against your core.

“What do you want then? Tell me and its yours.”

But you didn’t want to tell. You wanted to show. With deft hands you reached into the blankets and guided his lengthy member to your core, and with a heel you shoved his hips roughly until he was sliding into you with a groan. Caged between his arms you had no choice but to watch as his face contorted, and his eyes squeezed shut at the feeling of you around him for the first time in months.

“Wicked little minx you…” He shuttered, dragging a hand through your sweaty hair. Your only reply was a soft moan and a smile as he began to thrust slowly.

The sun was rising and it painted your room in a sweet light that allowed you to see him fully for the first time since the debacle at Rhysand’s home.

“Youre so pretty.” You whispered, reaching a hand up to cup his cheek. And he stuttered. His hips stopped momentarily as he watched you below him, practically glowing in the soft morning light. There was a gleam of sweat on your skin that made you shine and your lips were parted ever so slightly, yet you had called him pretty?

“No no. I am lucky. Incredibly lucky.” He replied, and much to your pleasure he resumed his ministrations and leaned down to kiss you feverishly.

 

It was overwhelming how good it felt to be joined so intimately after so many months apart. So overwhelming in fact that you were approaching your second orgasm rather quickly. Eris knew this, felt your legs tighten around his waist and felt your heart rate pick up through the bond. He smirked slyly and slid a hand between your sweaty bodies to rub quick circles into your clit, a sharp contrast against his torturously slow strokes. You bucked against him with a mewl and he chuckled, nipping gently at your ear.

“I’ve missed your pretty little noises.” He muttered into your neck, sucking marks into the skin there. You searched for some witty response, but one roll of his hips and your eyes were in the back of your head and your jaw was slack.

His rhythm was becoming disjointed and his pants were growing into groans and growls so deep that his chest vibrated against your own.

He thrusted once more, hard and deep, and you reached your peaks together in a symphony of moans and pants and sweat slick skin.

 

Eris didn’t even bother to pull out, just rolled to his side and pulled your back into his chest so that he could spoon you and play with your hair. You released your breath and intertwined your fingers with his own.

“I love you.” You whispered, pressing a kiss to his hand. His fingers gently squeezed your own before he wrapped his arms tightly around your midsection.

“I love you most, Starfire.”

And as you began to drift off into that blissful slumber once more your auburn-haired lover began to plot.

There was a score to settle with the High Lord of the Nightcourt, one the Vanserra son would not soon forget.

#annwritesacotar #eris x reader #eris vanserra #acotar fanfiction #acotar smut #acotar #sjmaas #sjm fanfic #eris x you #acotar x reader #azriel acotar #azriel spymaster #lucien x reader #acotar fanart #acomaf #helion x reader #helionacotar #helion acotar #night court #ACOTAR #a court of thorns and roses #acotar fic #smut #fluff #angst #annwrites #annwritesarchangel #autumn court

[wardenparker]

Bright Lights & Broken Dreams - pt 3

Dieter Bravo x female reader Co-written with @absurdthirst

Rating: E for Explicit! 18+   Word Count: 17k Warnings: *Contains flashbacks*. Cursing, food/alcohol, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, shower sex, praise/worship, mention of underage drinking, soooo much fluff. Summary: The press junket for your film becomes a coming out party for your relationship, and awards season is another turning point worth waiting for. The future is every bit as bright as you had hoped it would be with Dieter there. Notes: I will never give up the chance to write about Dieter at the Oscars, so yes that is in this chapter. And no I am not sorry. Not one little bit.

Part 1 ~ Part 2 ~ Part 3

“Babe! The car is here!” For once, Dieter is the one who is on time and waiting downstairs, fiddling with his phone and reposting the trailer like the studio wanted him to.

"Junket tiiiiime." You swing down the stairs with a suitcase in one hand and your purse in the other, ready to spend an ungodly boring three days staring at the walls of one single hotel out in Newport Beach. The studio knows you only need one suite, but they had the presence of mind to book a three-bedroom villa for their two stars to share with their assistants. With you and Dee in one room and Sadie and Desiree share another, the third bedroom is superfluous. But at least it provides a sound buffer for everyone's vocal enthusiasm.

You've been careful. All of you. Nothing has been given away to the public over the last ten months, and your individual fan bases have no idea that you and Dieter are back together. Or that you were ever together in the first place. This has been going well and you have decided to keep it quiet for now, not wanting to spoil the happy little bubble you've both been living in. No one even knows that you moved into Dieter's Sherman Oaks mansion six weeks ago.

“God, you’re so late.” Dieter huffs at you, although his grin shows that he doesn’t mean it at all. “Why didn’t you have Sadie pack you?”

"I am not late. I'm exactly on time." Desiree may or may not have clued you in on her tendency to tell Dieter that he has to be ready for things a minimum of fifteen minutes earlier than is actually necessary, and you have to admit. It works brilliantly. "Sadie asked for some personal time before the junket to go home and meet her baby nephew. I figured that that trumped packing my suitcase for me. She'll meet us at the hotel, though."

His own bag is waiting by the door and it’s a junket that he’s not actually dreading. Feeling better because you are going to be there and because he’s got a ten month sobriety chip in his pocket with your help. He has been sober beyond drinking wine or champagne with you. Even weed has been off limits because he can’t regulate himself.

"Ready to go, Bambi?" He looks ready – bright eyed and smiling if slightly tired, but that's your fault. You kept him up last night. Not that you're apologizing.

"I need some coffee." Dieter admits. "Maybe we can stop by and grab some?" He asks, pleading with big pouty eyes.

"Drive thru, or are you pouting at me so that I'll go inside the coffee shop and see what cookies they have today?" The two of you head out the front door to the car sent by the studio with Desiree standing by.

"Cookies." Dieter groans. Since quitting drugs, his sweet tooth has gotten worse, but he begrudgingly sweats through the workouts with the personal trainer you had hired for both of you. Telling him that you wanted him healthy so you could keep him for a long time had done the trick so he didn't whine too much.

"I'm sorry, did someone say cookies?" Desiree, as magical as she is, is sometimes nearly psychic. She has a paper bag in her hand that she wiggles in Dieter's direction before reaching forward to grab his suitcase to load into the trunk of the Town Car. "There's only one each so you don't get in trouble with your trainer, but I did not hold back on your coffee orders," she promises. "They're in the cupholders in the backseat already."

"Des, I love you." The way you hug her is nearly reverent, and you absolutely mean it. As much as you sing Sadie's praises, Desiree might be the only assistant in the world to rival her. And together? They're unstoppable.

"God." He groans happily and nearly dives into the car so he can get to the coffee, a nonfat two pumps white chocolate latte with two extra shots of espresso. "I love her more!" He calls back, happy to have his coffee and the prospect of a quick make out session in the car before having to pretend to be just your co-star for the next few days around others.

"I made him get up early to work out before we left," you explain, sending his assistant a grin before tucking your own suitcase into the trunk and climbing into the backseat after him. You've been on a cinnamon latte kick lately and the shop by his house – your house – makes an amazing one with just a touch of brown sugar steamed into the milk that tastes like heaven. The two hour drive will be a lot less tedious with Dieter in a good mood, and you have to admit that you could use the little caffeine boost as well.

"This is just what I needed." Dieter groans, sipping the latte like it is the key to eternal life but he picks up your latte to hand to you as you climb in beside him. He doesn't mind waking up for sex, he's always up for it, but he also knows he has to be on his A game to make sure he doesn't say anything. Dieter's management team has been ecstatic about the change in behavior of their client and doesn't want to break your good girl image with his still tarnished reputation.

“Thanks, love.” In the back of the car with the divider up, it doesn’t matter what you say. The only person back here with you is Desiree and she knows everything. Well – mostly everything. There are some details even she doesn’t need. “And thank you, Des.” When she climbs in after you and shuts the door, the car takes off right away. This weekend is running on a very tight schedule and LA traffic can be brutal, so there’s no time to spare.

"I hate press junkets." Dieter grumbles as the car speeds towards the freeway. "It's the same damn questions over and over by different people." The monotony of it bores him, wanting to be challenged by the questions rather than just trying to come up with new ways of repackaging the same shit.

“I know.” She sat through a hundred of these things with him, always hustling around to make sure things go smoothly, but she knows this time will be better. “At least you have good company this time.”

"That's the only good thing about this." Dieter winks at you. "As well as the soundbites for when we win our Oscars."

“You’re feeling very confident about that.” Comfortable enough to lean against his side as the car glides along the highway, you have to smile at his positive attitude. “Maybe this won’t be three days of torture after all?” The thing you always look forward to most is the cocktail party on the first night, usually because you get to mingle a little and spend time with your costars. This time? As long as Dieter is there, you’re game.

"I know you are going to win." He's confident of that, having watched the rough cut in its entirety. It was raw, real. The type of story that the Academy loves. "Hopefully the rumors that swirled during filming aren't brought up."

Unfortunately, it seemed like every kind of rumor was attached to you at some point during filming. You hated Dieter, you hated the director, you were dating your other costar, or you were dating your assistant – that one was immensely funny to Sadie, who thinks of you as a sister. “If they are, we’ll take them in stride. It’s nothing I can’t handle.” Rumors are only rumors, after all.

"I know." He murmurs, reaching down and threading his fingers with yours gently. "I just don't want my shit to splatter onto you."

“Your shit is my shit, babe. They just don’t know that yet.” Not having decided when to reveal your relationship to the world, you just know that for now, the key is to respect each other as much as possible in front of the camera.

He chuckles and sends you a grin. "Doesn't Kevin Hart have a bit that is something like that?" He asks, remembering some kind of standup special he had watched when he was baked a few years ago. "But it was like 'your bullshit is my bullshit, motherfucker'. Or something like that."

“I think it was about best friends, but this definitely applies.” You lift your joined hands to press a kiss to his knuckles and grin. “Your bullshit is my bullshit, baby.”

"Anything you want to do after the first round of interviews?" He asks, wanting to take his mind off of the upcoming questions.

“You.” The beaming grin you aim at him is unapologetic. “I’d be more graphic, but Desiree doesn’t need to be any more traumatized by our sex life then she already is.”

His chuckle is dirty and he sneaks his hand down to your thigh to give it a rough squeeze. "After the party, right? I know you want to go to the party."

“I always like to go to the party.” He knows that about you – that you don’t always like a lot of social situations but that you love a good party.

"Then we are going to the party." Dieter decrees, like he had never not been going to go to that party with you. "We just have to survive the first round of interviews."

“I promise that I packed something skimpy.” You shoot him an evil grin but just sit demurely in your seat and sip your coffee like a perfect angel.

Groaning, he rolls his eyes and huffs. "That's just mean." He pouts and crosses his arms over his chest.

“It’s not mean when you get to be the one who peels it off me at the end of the night.” It’s too cute. You can’t help but giggle, and even Desiree snickers in amusement.

"What happened to your good girl image?" Dieter asks, lifting a brow. "You know the press is going to be at this party as well and I'm going to have a hard time keeping my hands off of you."

“There will be swirling rumors that you’re desperately in love with me.” You tease, knowing that the dress you packed was chosen specifically to make him drool.

"That's not a rumor." He reminds you with a grin. "I am hopelessly in love with you. Desperate and hopeless. Never wanting to be out of love again."

“Well then, for once the Hollywood press corps will actually be telling the truth.” It’s not as though that’s a common phenomenon, so it’s worth teasing about. “I love you too, baby.”

“You know that story about the squirrel was totally fake, right?” Dieter frowns, leaning in to kiss you.

"Of course I know the squirrel thing was fake." You promise him, leaning into the kiss and relishing the small moment of tenderness. "That would be utterly ridiculous."

“Good.” He’s relieved you don’t believe that and kisses you again before snapping his head towards Desiree. “Cookie?”

"Cookie!" She hands over the bag with a flourish, knowing that getting Dieter in a good mood before a junket is vital. "And while Cookie is happening, maybe you'll let me go over your schedule for the day?"

Dieter huffs. “But that ruins the taste of the cookie.” He grumbles, perking up slightly when he sees it's a peanut butter chocolate chunk. “Fine.” He whines when his assistant doesn’t respond but just stares at him like a disappointed mother. She’s really good at guilting him without saying a word. Especially now that he’s sober, which is complete bullshit in his opinion.

The lemon shortbread cookie with lavender sugar makes you hum in contentment when you see it, and you sit back to listen dutifully. Sadie had already emailed you your itinerary and it is mostly the same as Dieter’s, but you’re still going to listen. These women take extremely good damn care of both of you and the least you can be is respectful.

******

The lighting in the room is bright, making Dieter wince and slip his sunglasses on. He’s not as sensitive to the light as he once was but the damn rings are making him see halos. “Ready to get this show on the road.” He huffs, fiddling with the water bottle that was already halfway empty.

“Let’s get started.” Your nod of agreement has the production assistant by the door moving, and you adjust in your seat slightly. At least the chairs they have for you in this place are comfortable upholstered ones and not like when they try to artistically arrange actors into director’s chairs for the aesthetic of it all. You have a cup of herbal tea on a small table just out of sight of the cameras thanks to Sadie and you’re ready to dive in. But mostly because she’s withholding baby pictures until the lunch break after you deal with the first round of interviews. The first woman who walks into the room looks nervous but bright eyed, and her credentials lanyard is a website you don’t recognize. She’s obviously a fan of Dieter’s, unconsciously focusing most of her attention on him, but you don’t mind.

Dieter straightens in his chair and the urge to reach for your hand is overwhelming so he plays with the edge of the chair he is sitting in. “Why did I choose this role?” He repeats the question and chuckles. “Contract obligations.” He jokes. “No, I liked the script. It was compelling and I knew that it was going to be amazing.”

It’s barely a joke, but you smile politely and don’t fuss when the woman gets flustered and forgets to ask you the question or at least wait for your answer. You understand being flustered by Dieter, it happens a lot. He’s far more charming naturally than he knows. The second question is about travel, and this time you don’t hesitate. “London was heavenly, but the hotel where they put the cast up in the French countryside was stunning. It was really like staying in someone’s home, and they made the experience so welcoming for all of us.”

Dieter smiles and nods, not expanding any more on the topic since you had answered. You had both talked about that hotel extensively and his own opinion mirrors yours.

The rest of her questions are fairly mundane, and you wonder if she was given first in as a warm up. Not wanting to hit you and Dieter with anything too thought-provoking right off the bat since Dee isn’t exactly famous for being a morning person. The next two people in ask requisite questions about working on a period piece and what it was like to work with the singer who played the third lead. The next seemed enamored of the fact that you had a very well behaved trained dog on set and wanted to know all about acting with an animal.

On and on it went, round and round again until even your break for lunch was a blur. The food was good, at least. That’s not always true at these things. A dozen or more interviews into the first day of the junket, Sadie brings you a fresh mug of tea and promises that the end is in sight. Just two more hours of this and you can go and wash off the tedium of interviews and get ready for the party.

“I’m so ready to stop smiling.” Dieter complains under his breath, his own refreshed latte in his hands as he watches yet another reporter bring in their equipment to set up. “Can I get some booze in this?” He begs Desiree, tilting his head. “Just a shot? Hell, even Bailey’s. Just something.”

“What happened to not drinking until the party?” His assistant asks with a raised eyebrow, having every intention of enforcing the deal they made yesterday.

“I got bored.” Dieter huffs quietly. “It’s the SSDD theory.”

“You’re done in two hours, and then you get a whole cocktail party to drink at.” Desiree reminds him. “You just need to survive a little bit longer. I hear there’s even cocktails named after your characters.”

“There are?” Dieter perks up tremendously at that idea and grins. “Okay. I’ll wait. But can we please have some interesting questions?” That part might have been a little too loud because the next reporter glances up from where they are setting up their camera.

There’s a flash of recognition on the reporter’s face. The look of someone tired who probably agrees that most of the questions they were asking aren’t worthwhile. He finishes setting up and sits down, but doesn’t open the small notebook that had just been in his hand. “So.” He smiles like he understands how tired the two of you must be, or at least he’s trying to be sympathetic. “This wasn’t exactly a run of the mill production process for you.”

Dieter glances over at you, seeing if you want to take the lead but your brow is slightly furrowed, so he answers. “If you mean the fact that we shot the emotionally tumultuous scenes first, yeah, I guess you could say that.” He chuckles. “Nothing like getting the shit slapped out of you on the first day to bond with your co-star.” He jokes, flashing you a grin. “Professionally speaking.”

"You didn't get along too well at the beginning of production, if memory serves." He shifts in his seat like a snake slithering toward a nest full of eggs. "The video of the two of you having it out in a restaurant in London made the rounds on the internet for weeks."

“Oh that….” Dieter chuckles and shrugs. “It’s me.” He deflects, pointing to himself. “Everyone gets pissed at me at some point.” He offers, like it would be unusual for his co-star to not be upset with him. “Emotions were high from filming that day.”

"But from someone so poised," he gestures to you, obviously hoping that he's poking a sleeping bear and trying to shake it awake.

"Unfortunately, sometimes being human is caught on film," you answer diplomatically. "As Dee said. Tensions were high in the beginning of filming. We had a lot of very high stress and high emotion scenes right in the beginning of the process and that really had us on our toes."

“Yes.” The reporter, Steven Someone, Dieter had already forgotten who he was with or his last name, nods in agreement. “However, from the video, it seemed to be…rather personal.” He continues on. “Did it have something to do with the production the two of you starred in together on Broadway together twelve years ago?”

“Actually?” No one has ever brought that up. It seemed like it had almost been lost to history. Your show and your history together seemed invisible to modern fans, and you’re honestly thrown a little off kilter by anyone even bringing it to the forefront. “No. It didn’t have anything to do with that. It was a misunderstanding on my part and I’ve apologized.” You’ve worshiped and posed for him since then, helping his sketchbook of you grow exponentially. But that is entirely personal.

“So the rumors that the two of you have an old spat are unfounded?” He asks, looking between the two of you. “Because the film almost seems to be an extension of that. Deeply personal.”

“I wasn’t aware of any rumours.” It makes you shift uncomfortably in your seat, the way this particular interview is turning out, but maybe it would be good to smooth this over. If there are rumours about you disliking each other, it would be good to gloss over them and make sure they’re ended.

“There’s reports that the set nearly shut down the first day due to an altercation and the table read was uncomfortable because of the tension between the two of you.” He acknowledges, without really asking a question.

“The beginning of this process was definitely tense,” you acknowledge, glancing nervously at Dieter who seems shell shocked by the way this interview has gone. “If anyone else in the cast or crew was made uncomfortable, obviously that’s something that was unintentional.”

“Obviously, there’s no tension now.” Dieter chuckles. “We are all temperamental artists at times, it plays well on screen but it can be uncomfortable until you find that niche.”

“No. In fact, now you seem quite cozy.” This reporter is smiling like he has a secret and your stomach rolls anxiously. “In fact.” The second time, the phrase almost sounds accusing. “You’ve been spending a lot of time together lately, haven’t you?”

Dieter gives a small shrug, as if it doesn’t matter. “We’ve known each other for a long time.” He tells the reporter, annoyed at where this interview is going. “Of course we are going to spend time together.”

“So there’s no truth at all to the rumor that the very same moving truck that was seen in Echo Park near the home of America’s Sweetheart,” he practically points his own at you. “Was unloading just hours later in Sherman Oaks at Dieter’s mansion?”

Dieter’s eyes narrow and he shifts in his chair. “Aren’t we here to talk about a movie?” He looks behind him at the banner for the movie and nods. “Yeah, that movie?” He hooks his thumb behind him. “Our personal lives aren’t on the table.”

“You’ve called this film ‘deeply personal’.” He changes tactics but doesn’t back down. “Apparently the beginning of shooting wasn’t the only time things got tense on set. The love scenes were also extremely intimate.”

“As intimate as having a roomful of people watching simulated sex can be.” Dieter laughs. “Takes away the fun if you’re the only ones exposed. But it was an extremely professional set.” He looks at the camera and playfully gives it a ‘sorry’ look. “Nothing is real.”

The production assistant nearby gives the reporter the signal to wrap things up and you shift again, picking up your mug to wrap both hands around it like an herbal tea security blanket. The reporter looks unhappy that he has to stop but he looks at both of you seriously. “The movie is a very poignant film and if emotions were high, they translated to a fantastic performance.”

“Thank you.” Saved by the bell, you think with an inner sigh as you paint a smile on your face. “We had a sensational script and a wonderfully supportive cast of costars. And Sam’s vision as a director really brings things together.”

Once that reporter is cleared out, Dieter shakes his head. “Can we have a break?”

“We’re on a tight schedule.” Desiree frowns, knowing the publicity team won’t like it. “I can stall for a few minutes.”

“Just a couple of minutes.” Dieter nods as Desiree moves towards the door to prevent the next reporter from coming in. “How are you doing?” He asks immediately, his eyes wide. “Do you think someone actually saw the moving truck?”

“They must have.” You can’t squeeze his hand without giving yourselves away, so you keep both hands locked around your mug. “I mean I thought we were doing really well but obviously somebody saw something.” You had agreed together that you wouldn’t come out as a couple for at least a few more months. You had planned to allow yourselves to be photographed on a very well-behaved and well-earned vacation where your publicity teams could control the message and how the information disseminated to your fans. Apparently, you may need to speed up that plan.

“Shit, I’m sorry.” Dieter frowns, sure that this is somehow his fault. He was the one who insisted that Sherman Oaks was where the two of you needed to live. You didn’t own your house, so he had thought it made sense.

“You didn’t do anything wrong.” It’s a reflex of his, to apologize even when he isn’t at fault, and you shake your head. “We should just…we should decide. If we’re still going to keep this under wraps or if we’re going to open up about it sooner than we planned.” It would be okay, either way. You could still control the flow of information. Sadie and Desiree would get the ball rolling with your management and publicity teams now instead of in six more months. “I guess…we could always use the junket?”

He frowns, knowing that you wanted more time, and it feels like you two are being pushed into a corner. “We could.” He agrees. “I’ll do whatever you want to.”

“If we deny it up and down here and then come out at the premiere, they’ll snag us for lying.” You point out quietly. “So far we’ve never said we aren’t together, and we can keep it that way. Everything on the up-and-up. And the press will be at the cocktail party tonight.” Having to play a strategy on your own relationship is difficult, but both of you have experience in this area. “We should just…just make sure Des and Sadie have everything lined up before we do this. The whole point was to have our teams ready to go. No scandals for either of us.”

“You’re going to be the one taking a hit.” Dieter reminds you. “But I haven’t had a scandal that’s come up to bite us in the ass.” He’s been on his best behavior, to the annoyance of some of the tabloids.

“They’re going to dig for a scandalous past that doesn’t exist. It’s fine.” Part of the point is that your team will be able to speak to your rekindled romance and touch on the fact that you dated years ago during your time on Broadway. Each other’s one that got away. A very romantic spin on the reality of an abusive father controlling his son from afar.

“Dear ole dad is spinning in his grave.” Dieter chuckles. “He never wanted me to have a squeaky clean image, said it was a direct reflection of him.”

“He wanted a product to sell, not a son.” It makes you sad, honestly, and you sigh into your tea. “He never saw how amazing you are all on your own.”

“Doesn’t matter now.” He knows that, although it still hurts. It had been one of the reasons that he had never had children. Never wanted to risk fucking them up.

“I love you.” It doesn’t cure the hurts, but the whispered words make him smile and that’s what matters.

“I love you too.” Dieter wants to lean in to kiss you, but he knows Desiree can only keep them out for so long. He smiles at you and nods. “Let me know when you want to do this.” He tells you before he calls for his assistant.

“Everything okay?” Desiree and Sadie appear together an instant later with concern on their faces.

“How long do you think it would take you to be ready to go with the photo leaks and press statements?” You ask them, barely raising your voice above a murmur. “If one reporter knows things, then I’d bet anything that more do.”

“Oh shit.” Desiree’s eyes widen slightly and she looks back at the door. “We have everything ready. Just whenever you are ready to push.”

"Tonight?" In a perfect world you could just be yourselves. Just cuddle up on the sofa and be together. But your lives are more complicated than that. "Use the cocktail party as the staging ground?"

Dieter nods. “I don’t have to keep my hands off of you.” He hums happily. Any time he doesn’t have to worry about not being able to touch you, he’s in a better mood. Even the interviews where the two of you playfully touch while joking were better in his book.

"If you're ready, we'll get the ball rolling." Sadie promises, flashing a proud grin at Desiree. This publicity roll out is some of their best work. "By the time the cocktail party starts, you'll be free to snuggle as much as you like."

“Okay, let’s get this next round of interviews done.” Dieter grumbles, like he wasn’t the one that needed a break. “I want to shower before the party.”

******

It ends up taking slightly more than two hours before you and Dieter can get back to your suite to get ready, but at least you make it through things without any more nasty questions or grouchy attitudes. The second you shut the suite door behind you, you go straight into his arms to claim a hug. "Well that's done," you huff with a half-assed chuckle. "Tomorrow we get to do even more of them."

“So what you’re saying is that I need to be drunk tomorrow?” Dieter huffs, squeezing you gently and sighing softly as he burrows into your neck and inhales the scent of your perfume.

“Tomorrow we’re going to get all the questions about us.” Considering you have the two most trustworthy and effective people you know working for you, you know that whatever they’re leaking or releasing, Sadie and Desiree are doing it at this exact moment. “It should be a much more interesting day.”

“Are you ready?” He asks seriously, pulling back to caress your cheek. “Soooo many jokes about taming me. Or orgies, or whatever.”

“Well, you’ve never taken me to an orgy, so I’m afraid I won’t understand those jokes.” You remind him, putting on your best innocent face. “I’m ready, honey. Honestly. I’m sorry that our hand got forced, but I’m proud to love you and I’m glad we don’t have to hide anymore.”

“I wouldn’t want you at an orgy.” He frowns just thinking about it and slides his hands down your sides. “It’ll make red carpet walks better.”

“So much better.” His hands land on your hips and you gravitate toward him instinctively. “Are you sure you’re ready?” As much as you’ll get a few jokes or comments about taming him, he’s going to get the brunt of it. The intimate details of his life have been much more on display than yours.

“You know I don’t care what the media thinks about me.” He does but it’s not like he can undo the damage already done. All he can do is allow his image to be shaped into something else.

“I know that you say that.” With two fingers you brush a stray curl from his forehead. “But you also can’t get bent out of shape if they say things about me. It’s their job to stir shit. Or at least to try.”

“You don’t deserve it though.” He pouts, frowning at you. “I won’t.” He huffs when you just stare at him with that ‘I don’t believe you’ expression on your face.

“We’re going to have fun tonight, and we’re going to be us. The real us.” You wrap him up in both arms and hug him to your chest, grinning when he burrows into your neck again for comfort. “Everything is going to be okay.”

“I know it will be.” That he’s certain of. The alternative is for the two of you to not be together and he’s not doing that. Not again. “Do you want to shower together, or do you want to wait until we leave the party?”

"Oh no, we're definitely showering together." The wolfish grin you throw him comes with a wink, and you pull away to head into the bathroom knowing that he's right behind you. "I want to walk into that party having been freshly fucked, thank you very much."

“Fuck.” Dieter grins, rushing to pull his shirt over his head and mussing his hair up. “What are we waiting for? Get naked!”

The vague sound of a snort from the other room tells you that Sadie heard that, and you can't help but giggle as you toss your blouse onto the long counter and reach into the overlarge stall to turn on the shower.

“Jesus.” Dieter can’t help but stop in his tracks and admire the beauty of you in front of him. Since moving in together, you have modeled several times and yet he still can’t help but stare. “I love you.”

You pause in your tracks, turning around to face him with your bra off and your hands on the fly of your pants – and a dopey, lovestruck smile on your face. He really is just sweet sometimes, and it's a side of him that almost no one gets to see. You honestly couldn't be prouder or more flattered that he is so soft and loving with you. "I love you, too."

Dieter grins and pushes his pants down, he had purposefully not worn underwear because of having to sit all day, so his hard length bounces out as he kicks off the pants.

“I’m gonna buy you silk underwear one day, and you’re gonna love how soft it is so much that you’re going to want to wear it all the time.” Not that you mind that he goes commando. It’s one less layer to strip away in order to have him inside you. He loves his little luxuries, though, and you know it would make him smile.

“Why, so they can remind me of how good your hand feels?” He smirks at you as you step into the shower. This is intimate and playful, the two of you falling into an easy comfort with each other.

“I told you that moisturized skin makes all the difference.” He had teased you about being so religious in your nighttime routine of moisturizers and cleansers, but he never argued with the results.

He grins, shaking his head and wrapping his arms around you. “We have about twenty minutes.” He hums. “It’s going to have to be a quickie.”

“Then you should decide if you want my front or my back pressed against that wall,” you hum, slinging both arms around him so you can drag him down for a kiss.

“Back.” He groans against your mouth. “Easier to kiss you.”

He’s always been greedy with kisses, much to your delight, and now he backs you up against the cold marble just as eagerly as he slips his tongue into your mouth revels at the needy moan it earns him. It takes no effort to melt into him and you reach between your bodies to wrap your hand around his cock and stroke.

The way you touch him makes his knees weak, sagging and leaning into you as he plunders your mouth with his own. Eager to be inside you again. It must be a symphony of moans and whines to anyone outside your little bubble, but all you can ever focus on is Dieter. He’s all you’ve ever wanted and still all you need, and when he picks your leg up to sit on his waist you shift forward with ease, eager to have him inside you again.

“Baby, you’re so good to me.” Dieter kisses down your neck and across your shoulder. “Best drug, you, you’re it.”

"Love you so fucking much." The way he nips at your skin leaves you breathless every time and you whimper softly. "Need you, Dee. Please?"

“Yes baby.” There isn’t enough time to tease you, to draw this out. Too needy for the solace your body gives him, he lines up and sinks in faster than both of you can inhale.

"Fuuuuuuck." No matter how many times you take him it's always a stretch, like a personal challenge to your dripping cunt to see if it will ever not make your eyes roll back in your head or your chest heave to draw him as deep inside you as possible. Tonight it's a gorgeous feeling of being split open as he braces your back against the wall and drapes both of your legs over his forearms to leverage you in between the marble and his body, impaling you on his cock so quickly that it almost makes you dizzy.

“Shiiiiiiit.” Dieter hisses. “How are you so fucking tight?” He whines. “I fuck you all the time.” He loves it, cock twitching deep and he grinds his hips to try to reach a fraction of inch deeper. Feeling like he will drive through your back wall with the first thrust.

"Kegels," you tease, diving forward to kiss him when it's truly the most you can do in this position.

“Keep doing them.” He groans against your lips, too busy trying to devour you to really talk beyond that point. You love making him crazy and everything you do accomplishes that. Especially the way you moan into his mouth.

Each determined thrust drives you firmly into the cold wall, pushing a moan into his kiss and making both of you grip each other tighter. His feet firmly planted on the shower floor hold both of you steady as he rocks into you and you do everything you can to meet him at every swing of his hips. It's a precarious dance but a rewarding one, letting him hit all the deepest, most sensitive places in your greedy pussy.

“Fuck, fuck.” Dieter groans, eyes fluttering and he tries to make sure neither one of you end up on the fucking floor. “Tonight–” he gasps. “Tonight, ride me.” He begs, knowing he will be needy and submissive after a night schmoozing. He normally is.

“Want to—” You gasp, whimpering when he hits so deep inside you that you swear you’re going to go permanently cross eyed from the way it jolts through your body. “Worship tonight, baby?”

“Yes. Fuck yes.” The way you make him feel like a god is addictive. To you– it seems like he is the best among all men. Desperately soothing the ego that loves to be stroked and it's different. He knows you mean it. The love you have for him makes it even better, making him crave it just like he wants to worship you.

Coming back to the depths of your relationship with Dieter has been easy in some ways. The emotional and sexual attachments that you had fostered years ago sprang back to life as though they had never once been doubted. Trust was rebuilt over time, through tangible examples of making and keeping promises and both of you speaking up even when you were uncomfortable or afraid of toeing a line. Moving in together has been the culmination of hard work and deep love, and you have both been so proud of your hard work. Tonight is another big step but right now you let yourself revel in what comes so easily to you. Sex is like your safe haven. The place where only you and he exist. And even though you’re a half dozen thrusts away from cumming at the very most, thinking of the next time you’ll get to be in his arms is absolutely thrilling.

“Love you baby.” Dieter groans, feeling you getting ready to cum, picking up your cues like it was just yesterday that he was introducing you to how wonderful sex is. “Cum for me.”

"Love you." It might be barely bitten out on a groan but you mean every syllable. In less than a minute you're spasming around him, tight walls pulling him as deep into your body as you can manage and hands clinging to his shoulders while you whimper in his ear and come apart for him all in one breathtaking moment.

He groans, rocking up onto the balls of his feet and scrambling back to press his lips to yours. Needing to kiss you will he tumbles off the edge after you. Only managing to thrust two more times before he is grinding deep and shuddering as he fills you.

You stay pinned together like that for as long as it takes to get your breath back, exchanging small kisses full of indulgence before he finally lets your legs down and makes sure you're steady on your feet. "We should wash up," you murmur unconvincingly, needing at least two more quick kisses before you even think of reaching for the soap.

“I think this might be the first time I’ve ever been disappointed to have a party planned for a night.” Dieter huffs, amused at himself. Normally he would already be getting hammered to pregame, but if you were to decide to stay in this room, he would snuggle up to you and order room service.

"It will be fun." At least you don't have to pretend anymore, and that is its own kind of fun and freedom. "You can kiss me in public now. Remember that."

“But no making out, right?” There had been a meeting with your own PR about what kind of PDA would be permissible to continue to craft your more respectable image.

"Right." A face cloth and body wash make it into your hand with the intention of each of you washing yourselves, otherwise you would never leave the overlarge shower. "And touching is fine but no groping. It's like foreplay for PDA," you grin at him, handing over the soaped-up cloth.

“What about a butt squeeze?” Dieter pouts, still not completely happy with these rules. “Just one! It will be tasteful.”

“How about resting your hand there for no more than five seconds.” While your publicist had looked at you like you have six heads when you told her about Dieter, she had since come to think of it like a challenge. A professional test, of sorts. Could Dieter Bravo be made to look respectable? Only time would tell.

“Only if I get to flex my fingers for the last second.” He compromises, grinning as he starts rubbing the soapy rag over his body. He knows how much you like his butt squeezes. And his boob squeezes, and it’s not like he’s trying to negotiate that for public spaces.

“Deal.” There’s a silly grin on your face as you put your hand out for him to shake like it’s some kind of shady business bargain instead of a goofy moment between lovers.

“Guys!” Sadie’s voice is muffled from the other side of the wall but still clear. “Rivkah and Monique are here to get you ready! No time for round two!”

“There’s always time for round two!” Dieter yells back, even as he steps out from under the water and turns off the shower.

It only takes a little while for both of you to get ready, thanks to your teams, and the all-black ensemble that Desiree had packed for tonight has just a few accents of blue to subtly match your dress. You hadn’t planned to come out tonight, but the decision to leave subtle little clues in your outfits for the weekend was a very good one after all.

In the elevator, you squeeze his hand and lean your careful coiffed head on his shoulder. “Are you ready for this?”

“As long as you are.” Your fame being impacted is the only downside of this in his opinion. He knows his own reputation. It will be met with disbelief and then there will be bets made on how long it lasts and if you try to hit him with a car when you inevitably break up because he’s fucked up. He knows all this. He just hopes you can put up with it and remember that the past is behind him.

“I’ve made my decision.” You tell him honestly and reach for his hand to thread your fingers together as the elevator descends to the first floor. “And if Hollywood makes me pick between it and you?” Exhaling softly, your eyes flick up to his. “The answer is you.”

That makes Dieter have to bite his lip, emotional from your confession. “I’d pick me too.” He teases softly, squeezing your hand.

With time enough to roll your eyes at him playfully before the elevator doors open, you smirk and return the squeeze of his hand. “Careful. Or I won’t stroke anything besides your ego tonight.”

“You love stroking Mr. Wiggles.” Dieter mutters under his breath, just to make you laugh before he steps out and pulls you out behind him. He hasn’t named his penis and if he did, it wouldn’t be Mr. Wiggles.

Thanks to the well-timed comment you’re choking on smothered laughter as the doors open, and the very first picture taken by a photographer of you and Dieter as an official couple has you beaming at him with a broad and honest grin on your face and laughter in your eyes as he holds your hand. It’s a beautiful image. The two of you are dressed immaculately and happy, the perfect picture of romantic bliss. You doubt either of your teams could have planned a better image.

Just like he would have with any starlet he was escorting to an awards show, Dieter is attentive. However, this time, it’s more intimate. His smiles are real and his hold on your hand never wavers for a moment as some of the reporters start to immediately buzz with excitement.

The ‘carpet’ you have to walk is actually the main hallway through the hotel which has been blocked off and styled as a greeting area so that no one not in attendance would have any idea you weren’t at an elegant party. The party itself, however, is outside. The entire patio and garden area of the hotel has been turned into a cocktail area with room for schmoozing and music for dancing. It will be fun, you just have to get to it first. The very first reporter to get your attention asks the standard questions about what designers you’re wearing, and you excitedly name names and give details so that the independent women designers you worked with for this event would get their due attention.

“Don’t ask me!” Dieter shrugs and grins. “I only know that the clothes feel really good and she looks amazing.”

“He’s wearing Gucci.” You grin, having gotten that tidbit from Desiree earlier. “Head to toe.” When he looks at you with surprise, you just shrug. “You look amazing, too. I was curious.”

Grinning, he winks at you and then back at the reporter. “She’s going to have me styled in Gucci all the time now.” He jokes. “But we’ll see, right?”

“Do you have a hand in his style these days?” The reporter asks, confusion indicating that she hasn’t picked up on what you two are trying to give away for free.

Lips quirked into a knowing grin, you nearly wink at the reporter on your own this time. “Most girlfriends do, don’t they?”

Dieter almost laughs at how wide the poor woman’s eyes get, nearly choking on air as she immediately tries to talk again through her excitement. He doesn’t though. He just gives her a concerned look as he stands beside you.

“This film was an adventure.” You tell the reporter with a smile. This quote will be used over and over again, so you have made yourself memorize something nice from your publicist instead of trying to improvise. “We were lucky to be able to have that adventure together.”

The reporter who had started grilling you during the junket nearly spills a drink as he starts jumping up and down. “I knew it! I fucking knew it!”

"Oh?" The amusement on your face is notable when you turn to find the man nearly flailing in your direction. "Then you should have asked directly." Not that you wouldn't have been a deer in the proverbial headlights if he had, but you can pretend otherwise.

It’s almost worth the annoyance Dieter had suffered earlier to see the devastation on his face as the reporter realizes he lost the exclusive scoop. It was now going out, might already be posted.

The next reporter on the carpet is a man you're familiar with. He's worked for his magazine for a decade by now and routinely does these junkets, but didn't sit with you today – his interview must be scheduled for tomorrow. "Hi Tom," you smile cordially as you and Dieter step over in line and you shake his hand warmly.

He's a nice guy. Likes to talk about his kids whenever he gets the chance, so you make small talk about little Ashley and Kaiden for a minute before he flashes a big smile at you. "I have to know how it happened," he insists with a breathless laugh of disbelief that you have a feeling is going to be the resounding reaction tonight.

Dieter glances over at you and smiles. “We’ve known each other for a long time. We did a play together twelve years ago and had a relationship then.” He shrugs. “I was an ass, she unbelievably decided to give me another chance.” He’s been willing to take the blame for the past and frame you as this saving angel if it helps. “The chemistry was still there.”

“Twelve years ago?” Tom sounds shocked but also soft at that revelation. Like it’s some kind of magical gift — and maybe for you and Dieter, it is.

“Not everyone gets a second chance,” you hum, still smiling, but this time that smile is gentle and aimed at Dieter before turning back to the reporter you have known for several years. “We’re very lucky. Why don’t we tell you all about it when we sit down tomorrow?”

“Absolutely. But for now, the two of you look happy.” He knows he will be up late rewriting most of his questions.

“We are.” That much is undeniable, bringing warmth to your cheeks. “We really are.”

“I’m sure we will talk later but the movie was excellent, enjoy the party you deserve.” Tom nods to you and allows you to move along.

Each short moment with each reporter is some variant of this, as most people are too flabbergasted to say much of anything right now. Tomorrow you’ll be bombarded with questions but for tonight you’re going to bask in the glow of not having to hide what makes you happy.

“Well no one accused us of lying.” Dieter chuckles under his breath. That had been something he had really thought would happen. People would claim it was a publicity stunt for the movie.

“I’m sure someone will tomorrow,” you laugh nervously as he guides you out, into the mood lighting and manicured decor of the party. “I think most of them were too shell shocked to even think of that.”

“Of course they are.” The bar is set up and he guides you towards it. “You – Hollywood’s dream girl – dating me.” He snorts. “Hollywood’s disaster.”

“You’re like the tornado from The Wizard of Oz,” you tell him, with a confidence that makes him snort but also look at you with a curiosity that asks why. “You swept into my life and made everything Technicolor. Sometimes it’s hard or even scary, other times it’s joyful and exciting. But either way, I wouldn’t be who I am without you.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He can’t help but lean in and press his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. Not as intimate as he would like, but enough that he shows you how touched he is.

“It was meant as one.” Even a small kiss is a big deal right now, and you can just feel the sheer number of cameras pointed at you right now, but you still smile at him and thank the bartender who sets one specialty cocktail each in front of you - the ones named for your characters.

“To your first Oscar.” Dieter grins as he picks up the drink and holds yours out to you as a toast. “I will be proud of you and cry from the audience when you win.”

“To your second Oscar.” Gently tapping the rim of your glass against his, you can’t help the warm and cuddly feeling that all of this gives you. Like this is how it was meant to be so many years ago. This was the future you were always intended to have. Right here with him. “I will be proud of you and crying from the audience when you win.”

“Nahhh.” Dieter shakes his head. “Your performance is the stronger one. It’s your movie really.”

“We’ll see.” He has never really known what he’s capable of on his own, and is even worse at accepting a sincere compliment, so you won’t press the point. But the fact is, Dieter Bravo would have been a huge movie star even if his father hadn’t been one before him. “Let’s just go enjoy the party.”

“Of course.” He winks and throws back the rest of his drink. The next one will be sipped because he has no intention of getting too drunk. “You know how much I love to party.”

******

You had learned very early on that Dieter never threw parties, but he was always invited to them. No matter which castmate or crew member or artist friend or old school pal was having people by, Dieter was always on the top of the guest list. He was a bragging point as much as a fun guest, giving people the chance to proudly spout that a movie star had been at a party they gave. And whether he cared about that or not, he almost always showed up – and he always brought you with him. You were his devoted arm candy and proud of it, whisked around every party like a beautiful bauble. His energy had always been electric, and wherever he focused his attention was the center of the universe. And no matter how long it took to make his rounds and shine his light on everyone he could, it always ended up back on you.

“Hey Bambi.” He had gotten dragged away from you, pulled into a story telling time about his time when he was filming a nude scene at fourteen and the ethics of it. Now back at your side, he drops his arm over your shoulder and plucks the almost lukewarm beer from your hand to take a sip. He was thirsty and the buzz that attention gives him was starting to wear off. “You enjoying yourself?”

“I was just thinking of getting a new drink.” His arms rests heavy and enticing around your body and you move into him automatically to get a hint of the cologne he wears. You have no clue what it is, but it smells exotic and heady. “Wanna come with me?”

“Course I do.” Dieter finishes off your beer and leans in with a vicious smirk on his lean face. “And later, I want to come in you.” He teases in your ear before nibbling on it, just to make you shiver.

"Babe." It makes you completely weak in the knees when he does things like that – says things like that – and you've never been more convinced that starting birth control was the right move. "Does that mean you want me to stay over tonight?" You ask with a wide-eyed pout that practically begs him to say yes. In the months since you started working and sleeping together, you've barely ever slept apart. But you try not to assume.

“How are we going to go to a hangover brunch tomorrow morning where we eat wayyyyyy too many sweet and salty things if you don’t stay?” He practically pouts at the idea. Sleeping better with you beside him, though he’s never told you that.

"Let it never be said that we don't take our two-show days very seriously." A solemn nod makes you giggle, knowing full well that doing two shows each day on the weekends is something that is equal parts exhausting and exhilarating. This is your craft, and you relish the opportunity to flex all of those muscles that you have been honing since you were just a young teen back in Washington. "I'm happy to stay, babe. I just didn't want to assume."

He huffs and rolls his eyes, wanting to ask you why you don’t assume, everyone else does. No one actually ever asks Dieter permission. They just assume he will want to be at a party or go out to the bar. You constantly not knowing if you aren’t spending the night has him thinking about asking you to just give up your apartment. But he’ll wait until your lease is coming up. No need for you to pay a penalty.

You don't tell him that you're terrified that he's going to get sick of you. That being too clingy or too emotional or too anything will be what makes him decide that the novelty of you has worn off. Telling him that would surely be the last nail in the coffin of a relationship that has come to mean so much to you, so you just smile instead and sidle up to the kitchen counter at this house party that has been transformed into a bar. "What are you in the mood for?"

Immediately distracted, Dieter strides up to the bar and reaches for the harder liquor. “Do you want me to make you a drink?” He asks. “It’s the very first drink I ever had.”

"Sure!" Of course you're always going to say yes to him. He's had such a wonderful breadth of experiences already and you hate how naive or sheltered you can feel sometimes by comparison.

“You will find that these are somewhat of an acquired taste.” Dieter hums as he adds scotch whiskey and vermouth into a shaker and walks over to the fridge to get some ice.

"Now I'm nervous." You lean on the counter while you watch him, biting your lip and not disguising the fact that you're watching his hips move as he walks. "What exactly are you making for me?"

“A Rob Roy.” He hums as he grabs some ice and turns around to wink at you. “A very classy cocktail.”

"Trying to class me up, Dee?" A little nervous that you won't like it, you put your nose up in the air and affect an air of absolute class and sophistication to mask your worry – and hopefully to make him laugh.

Dieter snorts and sticks his tongue out at you. “I’m just hoping you snort it up your nose choking on it like I did.” He scoffs playfully. “But– to be fair– I was eight.”

"Eight?" Sometimes when he mentions things from growing up they're cute stories or funny anecdotes. Sometimes they're downright disturbing instead. This qualifies as the latter.

“Yeah.” He shrugs as if it’s no big deal and slaps the top on the shaker to start shaking it. “One of dad’s parties.”

"Of course." The first time you ever went to a party with people drinking or smoking was probably halfway through college, but that just makes you feel ridiculous next to him. He calls you Bambi for looking innocent, but sometimes you wonder if he knows exactly how deep that side of your personality runs.

There isn’t a martini glass to strain the drinks into but the plastic cups get three dashes of bitters in the bottoms before he starts to evenly divide the liquor between the two. That was his father’s secret to a good Rob Roy. The bitters are only added at the end and never stirred in. He fishes out the ice with a spoon and hands you a cup. “To your new favorite drink.” He teases, sending you a small wink.

The first sip burns, almost sending you into a coughing fit that would assuredly be the least sexy you’ve ever been in front of him, but you manage to get yourself under control enough to take a second sip and that tastes delicious. Once you get past the initial shock of strong liquor, there’s something nuanced and addictive about the drink. You flash him a grin over the top of your plastic cup and count yourself lucky that you only coughed a little and your eyes only watered a little at the first sip. The last thing you want is for Dieter to think you can’t keep up. “Actually? It’s really good.”

Laughing, Dieter takes a sip of his own drink and grimaces slightly. “Glad you enjoy it.” He hums, wanting to tell you that you don’t have to like it, not if you don’t want to. “I got trashed off of them and threw up in the pool that night.”

“Sounds…fun?” Sometimes when he tells you things like this from his childhood you really just don’t know how to respond. Without being able to relate in any way, you usually just listen and tuck the information away for later recollection. He is a puzzle, and you’re slowly starting to put the pieces together.

“Yeah.” Dieter snorts and shakes his head. “Dad was disappointed. Said a man doesn’t quit until he’s thrown up for the second time.”

“You were eight!” That isn’t the definition of adulthood in any culture you’ve ever heard of, and you immediately move to put your arms around your boyfriend. “I’m sorry, honey. I try to be supportive, but that’s bullshit.”

He’s embarrassed for a moment. Wondering if you are right since he has zero clue what a normal upbringing looks like. “Doesn’t matter.” He shrugs it off and tosses you a charming grin as he slides closer to press his lips to yours. A distraction. “Just you matters right now.”

Though you can’t say you have a lot of experience with addiction, drugs, intoxicants, any of that - you do know what it is to crave. From the first time Dieter kissed you in your dressing room the day you met, you’ve craved him. Needed to have him near and felt like a piece of you was missing when he wasn’t. Maybe you know more about addiction than you think you do. You kiss him and kiss him in that kitchen, drinks forgotten until the only thing in your mind are the small sounds of pleasure coming from both of you and the way he makes you weak in the knees with seemingly no effort at all.

Dieter has you pressed against the counter, loving how easily you give over. There’s no rehearsing, it’s just natural. He’s more…dominant with you, although you do like to explore. You love pleasure and he loves giving it to you.

“God.” A voice from a few yards away rings out a groan followed by a disbelieving laugh. “Just don’t fuck in the kitchen, okay you two?”

“No promises.” Dieter jokes over his shoulder. “Not when Bambi is as beguiling as she is.”

When he breaks apart from you, you bury your burning face in his chest to hide your embarrassment and cling to his sides for that support you crave. He’s your shield against the world and the fact that someone as extraordinary as Dieter wants you is making you re-examine how you perceive yourself altogether. “Beguiling, huh?” You tilt your head back and beam at him.

“I said what I said.” He purses his lips at you playfully. “Besides, it could be considered performance art if we did fuck in the kitchen.” He’s joking, he knows you would never go for that, but it’s fun to see you squirm.

“It would only be performance art for you!” You giggle, trying to smother the giddy idea that he’s planted in your head. It’s so wildly outside of the realm of possibility, but a fun fantasy to hang on to. “If I do it, it’s indecent exposure.”

“Nahhhhhh.” Dieter takes advantage of your leaning back to laugh to lean forward and nibble on your neck.

“Deeeee…” His name is always drawn out when you whine it, and your fingers clutch the front of his shirt in fists to keep him close. You don’t want him to stop, you just want him to know what he’s doing is driving you crazy.

“I’ve got you.” Dieter chuckles and nips just a touch harder. He likes it when you are all whiny and needy for him. “What do you want baby?”

“You.” The answer is always the same. It’s always him, in some way, shape, or form. If you were back at his place already you’d be dropping to your knees in front of him. He’s barely left your neck to breathe and you giggle between gasps. “Swear to god you’re a vampire.”

“I vant to suck your bloooood.” He intones in a theatrical voice, as good as any Dracula of the old movies.

It earns him more giggles, and you reach up to thread your fingers through his hair as you find his eyes. “Vampires are sexy, ya know. It could work.”

“I’ll have to get a role as a vampire.” He grins and pretends to bare his teeth. “Just for you, Bambi.”

******

It's a touch-and-go night in some ways, as some people seem to be fascinated by the revelation of your relationship with Dieter and others seem almost agitated by it. The production team is delighted, knowing that all of the attention will only do good things for the movie. And your castmates seem relieved that they no longer have a secret to keep mum about. For you and Dieter? You've been sitting by the hotel pool chatting amiably with whomever stops by and nursing your drinks out over a long time so that you always have one in hand but never let your behavior get out of hand – which would lead to hands on each other.

One of the people you don't recognize – maybe a significant other you weren't formally introduced to or a bold reporter, you can't tell – is smiling brightly to Dieter. They're chatting away about a horror movie he was in a few years ago when you suddenly gasp dramatically and look up at Dieter with wide eyes. "You played a vampire in that," you blurt out, puzzle pieces clicking together in your head.

Tilting his head, Dieter shoots you a confused expression. “Yeah?” He asks, not quite sure what you are getting at. You had told him that you hadn’t watched many of his movies after he had left. He was surprised you knew that it was a vampire movie.

“Jessie’s house party.” It’s like an anvil dropped on you, or a house, and you can feel yourself just staring. Sure you hadn’t gone to see his movies in theaters, but you always eventually saw them in the dark secrecy of your own apartment. That one had just slipped your attention. “You said you were going to play a vampire for me one day.”

It clicks and he bites his lip. “Oh yeah.” He murmurs softly. “You haven’t seen it.” He motions towards the person he is talking to. “What’s the name of the vampire’s obsession?” He asks, not wanting to be the one to tell you.

“It’s…” The man looks between the two of you, confused. “It was some…bimbo name, wasn’t it?”

“Bambi.” Your mouth runs dry and you can practically feel your jaw unhinge at the same time that your eyes widen. “I—it…it was Bambi. Wasn’t it?”

“Bambi!” he explains, slapping his hands on his thigh. “That was it! Never understood why they named the lead ‘Bambi’.” He huffs, shaking his head. Dieter shrugs.

“I’m the one who chose it.” He says, remembering how he had insisted, even threatening to drop from the movie if ‘Deandra’ wasn’t changed to ‘Bambi’. The executive producer had accused him of trying to change it to some misogynist soft porn but he had been adamant and eventually got his way.

Your gentle hold on Dieter’s hand tightens immediately. You won’t start gushing in front of this stranger, but the silent signal to Dee is obvious. “I, um…I think it works well. Ya know…it codes the character as innocent. Naive, even.”

“It makes sense considering she was the one to destroy the vampire.” He reconsiders it, maybe even a little embarrassed that he might have insulted Dieter. “In that case, I like it.”

He wanders away before it can get awkward, making the excuse that he needs a fresh drink, but you just tug Dieter into your arms the second he’s gone. “Bambi, huh?” You murmur, holding him as tight as you can.

“Yeah.” Dieter shrugs slightly, embarrassed. “Got called a pig for that.”

“It’s a slightly unusual nickname.” If you weren’t wearing a delicate piece of artwork in the form of a full face of makeup, you would be burying your face in his chest immediately as you hug him. “I’ve always liked it, though.”

“I know you do.” Dieter hems and haws a little bit before he decides to ask. “You really didn’t know the name of the lead female character?”

“I didn’t.” You shake your head, shrugging guiltily. “It normally takes a while for me to muster up the courage to watch your movies…I always get nostalgic and it was a lot of emotions before. But I always do see them eventually. I know I said I didn’t…I just didn’t want you to know then that I…I missed you enough to watch them anyway.”

He can acknowledge that he was enough of a dick to deserve that. “I get it.” He promises quietly. “Maybe we’ll sit down and watch it together. I normally don’t watch my own shit, but I’ll make an exception for you.”

“Seriously?” He makes a rule of it. You know that. It was one of the wisdoms handed down from his father. “That would be pretty big for you, baby.”

“I’d do it for you.” He’s planning on actually watching the movie at the premier this time. For you. For your acting.

“I love you, too.” It’s nothing short of a miracle for Dieter to break his biggest rules and you know it.

******

“Don’t worry babe, you’re going to win.” Dieter hums, the buzz of the night not one brought on by chemical influence but by pure joy at the thought. As predicted, you had been nominated, for a second year in a row. This time Dieter is also nominated as well as the film itself. The red carpet had been trodden down together and the two of you had played your near year as a couple up slightly. Still shocking people that Dieter had lasted this long and that the two of you seem to glow happily.

“We don’t know that. We can’t know that.” After all, a Golden Globe win is no guarantee of an Oscar. You’d gotten one of those last year and not the Academy Award. Still, you clutch his hand as you sit down together in the front row and smile through the nerves.

“Please.” He scoffs and smirks. “They wouldn’t have put you in the front row so you can get on stage quickly in that dress if you aren’t winning.”

“Or they only put me in the front row because they wanted you here for your award.” You counter, not admitting that he has a point. The spectacular red and gold satin Carolina Herrera ball gown you have on is one of a kind and made specifically for you – and rather worth showing off.

“Nahhhhh.” He knows you are going to win. “They want me as far back as possible to keep my speech time short.”

“We’ll see.” You really have been trying not to jinx yourself, and you squeeze his hand tightly. “What do you want to bet?”

“If you win, you have to tell everyone up on stage you love me.” He teases, picking up your joined hands and kissing the back of yours.

“I would do that anyway.” His hand gets a kiss in turn. “Try again.”

He huffs, rolling his eyes and you and then leans in with a grin on his face. “You have to let me fuck you during the after party.”

“Scandalous.” But your tone makes it clear that you’re more amused than aghast, and you smirk right back at him while you enjoy the sparkle of mischief in his eyes. “Deal. Although this dress is going to be a challenge.”

“I rise to challenges.” He’s already though about how he would fuck you in this dress. “Or at least let me duck under it.”

“Whatever you want.” You promise him, knowing that he’s much better at self control these days when it comes to not doing anything reckless in public. This is…call it a treat. This is a treat for him. “But if you win?” Pretending to think, you tap your chin and grin. “We’re taking a little vacation. My treat. Anywhere you want to go.”

“That’s dangerous.” He laughs. “What if we both win?” It’s a possibility for sure this time.

“Then we do both?” It wouldn’t kill the two of you to take a break. In the year since the film you made together wrapped, you’ve both filmed at least one other project and done plenty of other professional work. You stay extremely busy.

“We could. Might be good to be seen ‘frolicking’ on a beach somewhere?” He hums in amusement. “Or we could do something really unusual. Normal, even.”

“What would we do that’s normal?” You emphasize the word, pretending to be disgusted by it.

“Why don’t we do a cruise?” His eyes light up. “Be completely cheesy and pretend we aren’t Hollywood stars and book a normal cruise. Pretend like we don’t know what’s going on.”

“Like a normal couple.” It’s quite sweet, actually, and you lean over to kiss him. “Alright. You’re on. We’ll go on a cruise and be totally normal for once.”

“But can we have a balcony room?” Dieter asks, pouting slightly. “I don’t like the interior rooms. Too confining.”

“I promise.” The grin you shoot him is beaming. “Whatever you want.”

“Ladies and gentlemen….” The announcer comes over the speakers and Dieter can’t help but bite his lip happily. “Showtime.” He leans over and kisses your cheek for luck.

It’s a long night, but awards nights always are. Waiting through all the other categories for your own is a special kind of torture, until the presenter for Best Actress finally steps out on stage.

“It’s going to be you.” Dieter repeats, completely sure of it. Of course the two of you have played up for the cameras but the night has been fun. “I know it.”

“Nervous.” One mumbled word comes through, and you squeeze his hands tightly in your own. You haven’t let his go for hours and you’re not about to now. You’re terrified, honestly, but mostly because you don’t want to disappoint him. He’s so sure and you’re so scared that you’ll fall short again.

“Don’t be.” Dieter turns and stares into your eyes. “No matter what, no matter whose name is called, I’m proud of you. I’m so fucking proud of you, Bambi.”

“You’ve got me.” He’s always told you he does, and always meant it, and the calm that knowing it brings to you runs so deep that you almost don’t even hear your own name being called. “I—what??”

“They just called your name.” Dieter beams and rockets you up out of your chair to hug you. He can’t get up on the stage with you, but his kiss can linger on your lips.

“They—” The camera that swings around you gets the perfect shot of the congratulatory kiss, but you don’t even register what’s happening aside from Dee being the one to tell you that you’ve won. He takes two steps forward with you to make sure you’re steady on your feet before sitting back down in his seat, but you swear you’re just flying. Making it on stage is a whirlwind, and you swallow thickly when the statue is placed in your hands before you turn to face the podium. There’s a time indicator just inside your line of sight but you look down, right at Dieter in the front row.

“Thank you.” You clear your throat, dabbing tears away and letting the smile on your face grow even larger. “Thank you to the Academy for this prestigious recognition and award, first and foremost. Thank you to my unbelievably talented cast mates, our phenomenal crew, our brilliant production team, and a grateful thanks to my family at home who still don’t quite understand why I do what I do, but love me with all their might anyway.” The audience laughs softly but your eyes never leave Dieter. “This is an honour that I’ve dreamt of for my entire life, and it is a validation of decades of hard work. I’m grateful.”

The speech you had written is still tucked into the pocket of your dress, left for a memory. You have something else you want to say in this moment, as your heart hammers and your pulse quickens to double time. “And thank you, from the bottom of my heart, to you, Dee.” The cameras that pan to Dieter now are intentional – not catching a fleeting expression but ready for whatever comes next. “Thank you for challenging me as often as you support me. For being the push I need to face my fears and the arms that welcome me home when things don’t quite go as planned. Thank you for the professional and personal growth that I know never would have happened without you. I love you, I will always love you, and I hope we have a thousand more adventures ahead of us.”

"I love you too! Finish your speech!" Dieter calls out towards the stage, his own face reflecting pride and love as he grins at the way the entire theater bursts into laughter and applause.

You can’t help but laugh, the beaming smile on your face coming with a shake off your head. “The end of my speech?” The little timer in the edge of your line of sight is almost at the end, and you swallow, looking back down at him with renewed courage. Didn’t you just say you wanted adventure? “It’s just one sentence, and it’s a question for you.” The whole room seems to take a breath at once, and you can see your co-stars turning to stare at him in the front few rows. “Dieter Bravo, will you marry me?”

His jaw drops in shock and it seems like the entire venue, maybe even the world are holding their breath as they wait for his answer. He can't believe that you just asked him to marry you, but your grin hides the slightly panicked worry in your eyes. As if he would say no. He stands up and huffs: "Took you long enough to ask!" He answers playfully. "Of course I'm going to marry you, Bambi!"

Disbelieving applause and hollers pulse through the crowd as you move to the edge of the stage to meet him for a kiss before being ushered backstage. You’ll see him again in just minutes, but for right now your heart is beating out of your chest. You actually just did that. And he actually said yes!

Dieter accepts the congratulations of nearly everyone seated around the pair of you, your little proposal almost overshadowing the most important part. Now he's going to ask you if you were serious.

You make it back to your seat after the next award, right as the commercial break hits. The statue that will bear your name has been handed off to be engraved and without it in your hands you can practically drive back into Dieter’s arms in the seats.

“Tell me that wasn’t just to be on every Hollywood and Academy Awards reel for the rest of time?” He begs, immediately pressing his lips to yours as soon as the words are out of his mouth.

“They just got the benefit of me finally getting the balls to ask.” One—two—three quick kisses shared between you leave the two of you grinning breathlessly. “I mean it, baby. You and me. Forever.”

“I want a marvelously tacky ring.” Dieter warns you with a waggle of his brows. “Maybe a different kind of ring of engagement.”

“I knew you were going to want something alternative.” Giggling into another chaste kiss, you slip your hand into his and squeeze it tightly. “You wanna go shopping tomorrow? Engagement rings of all varieties?”

“You think they have diamond cock rings?” He asks quietly as they announce the category for Best Actor in a drama.

“Already looked into it,” you promise in a whisper. Thank god for incognito mode on your browser, you’d thought it would be a silly birthday gift.

“Yessss.” He ignores the playback of the movie as he leans in to kiss you.

It’s the second time tonight that one of you hears the announcement before the other, and you pull back from Dieter with an excited squeak. “Baby, baby—” You grip his arms tightly. “You did it! It’s you!”

Dieter blinks a few moments and then he realizes what you are saying, pulling you up with him to kiss you again before he makes his way to the stage this time. He’s congratulated and hands are shaken, his only thoughts that nothing is going to top this. Not professionally, anyway.

“Tonight I thought that my co-star, my lover and my fiancée was going to win.” He starts out, shaking his head and looking down at the statue and then back at you in the audience. “I didn’t even have a speech prepared, I was so sure I wasn’t going to win. So yeah, I want to thank everyone on the movie, thank my fiancée for her performance and….”

Dieter bites his lip and looks out over the sea of people in the audience. He sees Dustin Mulray and Lauren Van Chance sitting together and acting lovey again for the fifteenth time and Carol Cobb is a presenter, not an actual member of the academy, but she is glaring at him from her seat. She still blames him for her bad press around Cliff Beasts 6. “I’m done.” Dieter decides. “Tonight, I am retiring from film. This will be my last one of these, so thank you.” He holds the golden statue up in the air and pumps it in gratitude before bowing slightly.

The ripple of a shocked gasp cuts through the crowd, but you feel a very different reaction for yourself – almost laughing in your seat as you clap for him. The people around you start to applaud slowly, and sure enough that ripple takes over the crowd instead until the entirety of the theater is clapping as Dieter is ushered off stage. Between the two of you, you’ve certainly made a splash tonight…

Backstage, it’s a rush to get Dieter back to his seat but everyone asks if he’s serious. He is. And now that he’s said it out loud, he’s almost….relieved. The idea has been talked about more but nothing definite had been done, now he’s taken that first step. Although he wonders what you think about that.

There’s a commercial break when he gets back to his seat, mercifully, and you grab his hands immediately. You’re with him, he must know that, but you search his face. “You couldn’t just say thanks and walk off stage?” You ask, stifling laughter at how shocked everyone is. “Do you…are you serious?”

“I am.” Dieter nods, giving you an almost relieved grin. “It’s not– nothing will beat this. Not in my current life. Winning with you– it’s the way I want to go out.”

“Well…” Lifting one of his hands to your mouth, you press a kiss to his palm and offer him a supportive smile. “Whatever you want to do, Dee. Full retirement, new career, house husband, whatever. Or if you want to start scouting theater locations, we can do that, too. As long as you’re happy.” He’s taking control of his life, which is something he’s never been able to do, and for that you have to be proud of him.

“I do want to do the theater.” Dieter admits quietly. “I don’t expect you to retire or give up your career. I just–” he sighs softly. “I hate film. Honestly. I always have.”

“I only care that you’re happy,” you promise him. “Whatever it is that's going to do that, we’ll do it together.” The grin you flash at him is a little guilty. “I might pop away once in a while to make a movie or I might not. We’ll have to see.”

“You should.” Dieter urges, bending down to kiss your hands, one then the other. “I love you. I don’t want this to just be about me. I’ve been selfish enough for my entire life plus twelve more.”

“I love you, too.” The two of you get to share one more quick kiss before the cameras whir to life again and the broadcast is back from commercial. Only Best Picture remains, but it doesn’t matter if you win. You have the best prize in the world sitting in the seat right next to you.

Watching you up on stage again, this time for Best Picture, Dieter claps and whistles from the audience, aware that you deserve this. His Bambi has become a certifiable star. One that he hopes never dims.

******

Jet lag is one of the worst feelings in the entire world, bar none. It sticks to you and dogs your brain and makes you ache, and half the time it even stops your thoughts from making sense. Right now you feel like a jumbled puzzle as Sadie presses a travel mug of fresh tea into your hands then bundles you into a car at the airport to head for home. Four months was a hell of a long time to be gone, and it feels like even more, but at least you didn’t miss any important holidays or birthdays this time. In fact – you’re ahead of the curve. It’s opening night of a new show tonight and there is nothing more exciting or enticing than getting to surprise your husband on the occasion.

Dieter rushes around, his headset half off as he shouts towards the stagehands. “To the left!” He orders. The thrill of opening night is only measured equally by the stress, but it’s honestly something he has come to love. The students have worked their asses off and they deserve tonight to go off without too many hitches. There are always issues in live performance, it’s to be expected and anticipated as much as possible. It’s his job to make sure that they are equipped with the knowledge and training to work through it and deliver a sound performance to the audience.

Desiree checks her watch discreetly, expecting to see a text from her wife when she gets you back in the car from the house. Just because Dieter had left Hollywood behind didn’t mean that she was going to leave his side — and now her job as a theater administrator means she’s his right hand in a whole other way. When the text eventually comes through, she grins and moves through the space to tap Dieter on the shoulder. “Keep going.” She murmurs conspiratorially. “I’m going to make sure the kids aren’t getting into any of the concessions candy.”

“You know they are.” Dieter chuckles, rolling his eyes at the antics that his children can get into. “They are mine after all.”

“Only two of them.” She flashes him a grin. She and Sadie had opted to adopt, and it means that those three kids have become a sort of whirlwind trio as the years tick by. “I’ll be right back,” she assures him before hustling out of the theater.

With Desiree off to wrangle the kids, Dieter turns back towards the chaos that is backstage before opening night. Putting out a handful of fires and drying a few anxious tears, most people who knew Dieter during his adult acting career in Hollywood wouldn’t recognize him. No longer the flighty, unpredictable actor, he had built this school with your help as one that would produce solid performers regardless of their background.

You don’t really get to sneak in this property – everyone who works or goes to class here knows you – but Sadie drops you off at the stage door of the main building with a grin and zips off to the main entrance to park the car and pop in on Desiree. You’ve showered, changed, and wrapped up Dieter’s opening night gift to be tucked into your purse. He’s done immense work here and you’re so incredibly proud of the man he’s become through all of his own hard work. If once in a while you show it with a gift, that seems completely reasonable, right?

He doesn’t have a chance to check his phone, too busy to even pull it out of his pocket so he doesn’t even know if you’ve texted him. The kids are cleaned up – two KitKats and a box of milk duds have been sacrificed to their sweet tooth – and they are eagerly heading off to sit in a box that is reserved for family and friends. A stagehand is sitting with them so they don’t run off, but he knows as soon as the lights go down, his kids will be glued to their seats.

Carefully slipping in through the side door of the theater, you tuck yourself into the crowd to watch the show. Eurydice is a brilliant piece of stage work in the right hands, and Dee’s deft directing combined with the raw talents of some of these kids is truly breathtaking. If you privately enjoy it a little more because it’s by the same playwright who wrote the show you did on Broadway together? That’s just a little extra nugget.

He knows that the kids are taken care of, so Dieter focuses completely on the play, every act, every scene perfectly coordinated and timed. He holds his breath when one of the boys stumbles, but he quickly recovers and delivers his line with the same tenacity that had come through in rehearsals.

It’s gorgeous, really, and when the audience gets to its feet during the curtain call you stand with them right away. Whistles and cheers come from every corner as the cast takes their bows. In the front row in the corner, you can see Dieter in this customary seat, waving his thanks in between giving his own applause to the cast. It takes a few long minutes before people start to file out of their seats and out to the lobby for the opening night party, but you have somewhere to be. Up some hidden steps and around the corner, you pop your head into the little box seat where Desiree and Sadie are sitting with the kids, ready to surprise them and bring them down so the three of you can congratulate their dad together.

Your youngest is the first one to see you. The movement in the corner of her eye caught her attention. "Mom!" She squeals, jumping up and rushing over to throw herself into your arms.

“Hey baby girl.” At ten years old, she still likes big hugs and doesn’t mind you being a little mushy, but even her much-too-cool older brother pops out of his seat when he hears your voice. “Surprise, guys!” You laugh, bathing in the bliss of having both of your kids hug the life out of you. “Did you like Dad’s show?”

“It’s okay.” He shrugs his shoulders and gestures towards the stage. “Act two, scene one, they missed the queue and flipped the lines.”

You snort softly, leaning over to press a kiss to your son’s head. “You know you’re the toughest critic in this place, so only finding one thing to point out is pretty good.”

“Still–” at twelve, Diego Bravo was just as arrogant as his father in some aspects, having grown up in this theater and knowing the plays better than some producers. Whenever he wasn’t in school, he was here – when he couldn’t convince you to let him come with you on your film locations.

“Still, we should go say hi to Dad, yeah?” You squeeze them both tight again and grin when Mia clings to your side. She’s still young enough that she’s not going to let you go, and you’re going to cherish that for as long as it lasts.

“Dad doesn’t know you’re here?” Diego’s eyes widen and he grins. “He might cry, you know.”

“I came to surprise you two goofs first.” The tip of your finger bops both of their noses. “C’mon, let’s go down to the party.” Opening night and closing night parties are a beautiful example of when this theater really feels like family – they’re never a big deal but they’re always so much damn fun. Just some bottles of bubbly and some snacks for the cast, crew, and their loved ones with music pouring through the speakers in the theater lobby, but everyone always dances and it’s always a great way to celebrate hard work.

For a man who was very seriously into drugs, he keeps the theater drug free. Maybe it’s because there’s nowhere to hide things that he’s not already thought of or the policy of one strike and you’re blacklisted strikes fear into most of the student’s hearts, there are rarely incidents. He explains it every time a new class is on boarded. He was exposed to drugs at a very young age by the man who was supposed to protect him. While they are in his school, they are under his protection. There will be plenty of that shit available in the real world, but oftentimes, it makes you unusable as an actor. The only real reason he got away with the shit he did was because of his legacy in Hollywood.

He’s in the middle of having this conversation with a party guest who brought their vape when you come downstairs with the kids, so you steer them to the bar to get some ginger ale rather than disturb your husband. You’ve heard him give this speech plenty and it sounds to be nearly over, so you can happily wait. Sadie and Desiree have brought their daughter down as well, and she and your kids might as well be on another planet as far as paying attention to things anyway. Ginger ale for them and bubbly for the three adults, you grab a fourth glass to bring over to Dee as you can hear him finishing talking to the random party guest.

Dieter feels a hand on his arm just as he nods to the guest. “It turned out good, didn’t it, Des?” He thinks Desiree is touching him and when he turns, his eyes blow wide and his jaw drops. “You!” Speechless at the sight of his wife and all time favorite human besides his kids, in front of him. “You’re supposed to be in Jakarta!”

“Surprise!” You and the kids shout all at once, and you hold out a glass to him while they collapse into a giggling fit. “I raced through the last few days of filming to get home early. Congratulations, baby. The show was beautiful.”

“Oh my god, I–” Dieter rushes forward and wraps his arms around you. “You must be exhausted. Have you slept at all? You liked it? They did a great job. Best show yet, but don’t tell the last class I said that.”

“I won’t say a word,” you promise him, hugging him tight against you and breathing in the familiar, calming scent of his cologne. “I slept on the plane. Didn’t want to be too out of it so that I could change and come straight here after landing in Seattle.”

“I can’t believe you came.” He had talked to you yesterday but he knows that there are times where your filming schedule will interfere with the theater productions.

“I missed you.” It’s sweet to see that Diego was right – that there are soft tears forming behind Dieter’s eyes. The son is so much like the father in some ways that it makes sense when he can guess at those reactions. Thankfully, Dieter had made sure that your son and daughter grew up in a much more supportive and caring environment than he ever had.

“I missed you too, I always miss you.” He presses his lips to yours, not even minding the quiet groans that come from the kids. They can be embarrassed all they want. He’s not seen you in nearly two months.

“I’m proud of you.” When you finally part, you’re beaming at him with that same warmth that you’ve always had. The smile of a woman completely besotted with her partner. “And I’m so glad I’m home.”

“You will have to sleep when we get home.” He frowns slightly, knowing you must be exhausted. “We won’t stay long.”

“We can stay as long as you want.” No one who knew the Hollywood version of Dieter would believe it if they saw him now. Attentive and caretaking, he’s come into his own as a teacher and a father. Like he was always meant for this life all along. “You deserve to celebrate with your cast.”

“I’d rather let the younger kids celebrate their hard work while I celebrate in a bubble bath with my wife.” Dieter suggests, sliding around you and hunching around your back. “What do you think?”

“Mmm, that is awfully tempting, Mr. Bravo.” It sounds like heaven, actually. Especially after twenty-three hours of travel. “That sounds very, very tempting.”

“It should tempt you.” Dieter chuckles. “I have a bottle of that wine you love in the wine fridge. Found it last weekend.”

“So hot bath, naked husband, and my favorite rosé?” When you turn your head to kiss his lips again, he’s right there smirking at you and waggling his eyebrows. It works – it always works – and you giggle into the kiss. “Consider me seduced.”

“Yessss.” Dieter hisses under his breaths and then nuzzles his nose against your neck. “Go to bed kids, daddy’s getting laid tonight.” He doesn’t speak loud enough for anyone but you to hear.

“Oh yeah.” It earns him an amused giggle and another kiss before you turn around in his arms to face him. “It’s been months,” you murmur back. “You’re absolutely getting laid.”

“Video chatting just isn’t the same.” He hums. The sex drive has ultimately slowed down, he is nearing 49 this year, but he still wants you. Always wants you.

"Thought I might stay home for a while." The last year or so has been busy. You took a mini-series that had you filming overseas and then this last movie was a lot of stunts and action, which was fun but a lot more exhausting than it used to be. More and more you find that you just want to be home with your family. "Diego's gonna be a teenager this summer. I feel like that's just trouble waiting to happen." He is, after all, a whole lot like his father. Mischief runs in the Bravo blood.

“He’s asked if he can submit an application.” Dieter tells you quietly. “He wants to attend the theater.”

"How do you feel about that?" The policy of not letting anyone under teen age take classes at the academy had kept Diego at bay for the last few years, but you knew it was only a matter of time. The kid is ecstatic in the theater and has a real eye for it. But considering everything Dieter went through as a kid, it has to be his call. He has to be okay with letting Diego become an actor if that's what he wants to do.

“I don’t think it’s right to keep the kid from what he loves.” Dieter acknowledges. “But he has to keep his grades up.”

"Agreed." It's a very big step for Dieter to be okay with this, and your thumbs smooth gently over his arms. "And he has to audition just like everyone else."

“I’ve decided I’m not going to be the one to look over his audition.” Dieter murmurs quietly. “He’s going to be pissed when he finds that out.”

"I think it's a good idea." And actually? You're glad that you don't have to be the one to suggest it. "No favoritism that way. But you could help him prep a little. I bet he would love that."

"I'll suggest that." He smiles at you, grateful that you have the answer for what he needs to do.

"Do you want to give him the application for his birthday?" He seems a lot more relaxed after just a few minutes of talking about it, but it really is down to how much he loves his kids. Against all odds, Dieter Bravo turned out to be a great dad, and you hope his selflessness and his unconditional support is making Baxter roll over in his grave.

"I think he would like that." Dieter grins, and nods. He pulls you closer and inhales your scent, something so soothing to him.

"You're a good dad, Dee." Holding him tight against you, you press a kiss to his cheek and sigh happily. Being home a few days early was well worth all the extra work that you did to get here. "And your family loves you."

"That's all I could ever ask for, Bambi." He admits quietly, sighing as he relaxes for the first time since you left. His family and his theater are all that he needs. He still gets calls, directors begging him to work with them, to star in their movies. To come back to Hollywood. He turns them all down. He had said he was done. He had told his father years ago that he wanted to be on the stage, and he had meant it, he was just behind the scenes now and it was the most fulfilling work he's ever done. Besides winning you back. Without you, none of this was possible. You are his greatest muse.

______ Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @harriedandharassed @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @haylzcyon   @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri @adancedivasmom @madiebear @tanzthompson @emilianamason @bigsdinger @xocalliexo @pedr0swh0r3 @avaleineandafryingpan @charlyrmv @avidreader73 @iceclaw101 @loveslide @elegantduckturtle    

My Masterlist!

#Pedro Pascal #Pedro Pascal character fanfiction #Pedro Pascal fanfic #Dieter Bravo #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x female reader #Dieter Bravo x f!reader #The Bubble #Lost love #one that got away #movie star reader

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

I have a theory that the reason we as an audience feel like Sibuna in Season 3b are making monumentally stupid choices is because the show doesn’t actually spell out for us that the kids don’t have all the information we have. In fact, they are operating with less than half of our knowledge. (This is gonna be a longgggg post, so read under the cut if you dare)

On my latest rewatch of S3 for fanfic purposes, i found myself really struggling to justify why the hell Eddie couldn’t put two and two together with his vision of Patricia and the “traitor” in Sibuna. I was frustrated with him because to me it was incredibly obvious! Like who else could it possibly be?? But then, I rewatched it again with a closer eye and everything suddenly clicked:

We, the audience, are watching the action from a completely zoomed out angle. We’re not just following Sibuna, but we’re also following Team Evil. We know Robert is capturing Sinners and what a Sinner actually is, before Sibuna is even fully aware that they failed to stop the eclipse ceremony. The kids metaphorically tripped at the starting line.

Furthermore, this is the first time in the show that the Sibunas have not had either the upper hand or were even on equal playing field with the adults. In Season 1, the Society was wholly unprepared for a bunch of adolescents to start foiling in their plans (bc why would they be prepared for that??), and Sibuna basically destroyed them due to adults underestimating their willingness to fuck around and find out. In Season 2, Victor/Vera and Sibuna were on equal ground; no one knew how to solve the tasks and it was a matter of a bunch of separate parties trying to figure it out before each other. They were all just throwing shit at the wall and hoping it stuck.

At the top of Season 3, we play a lot with both the S1 and S2 dynamics. At first, Sibuna is leagues and bounds ahead of the adults, and then they pretty quickly end up on the same footing. Then, in the second half of the season, that entire dynamic is flipped on its head, and it’s Sibuna who are wholly unprepared for the adults. I’ve talked about how the kids, especially our Sibuna veterans, got a little too comfortable with Victor and co’s ineptitude and cocky with their own intelligence… but that’s not even why they were so slow on the uptake.

None of the Sibunas even hear the word “Sinner” until they find that book in the secret room and read it while sitting on the stage. And the book does not explain at all what a Sinner actually is. It tells them that Ammut needs “the souls of five human sinners who embody the greatest flaws on mankind” and once she has five of them she can enter the human realm and cause lots of problems. Absolutely nowhere in the book does it ever say “Also, much like Robert, the soulless body of the Sinner is reawakened in service to the underworld.” The only other hint that could have possibly clued anyone in is “when your friends are not your friends”. But like, that clue was ages ago! Why would they even be thinking about that, when it had absolutely no bearing on their hunt for the secret room/answers up to that point? I cannot stress this enough, THEY HAVE ABSOLUTELY NO CLUE WHAT A SINNER IS! (I’m gonna repeat this sentence about 400 times in case you don’t get it now lol) Mind you, that atp in the timeline, this is approximately fifteen or so minutes before Denby captures Patricia.

But let’s rewind all the way back to when Team Evil devises a plan to kidnap Eddie. He’s in the crypt, right? It’s pretty evident to him that it was probably Denby, Victor, and/or Robert who trapped him here, but he’s got no real clue as to why. Of course, we all know that they’re planning on turning him into a Sinner, because we saw Victor get turned. But as far as Sibuna knows, Victor has never really been on their side, so all they think is that he’s being meaner than usual but of course he’s opposing them. That’s not strange.

Okay, so Eddie is stuck and distressed, but he’s not as panicked as he needs to be because nowhere in his mind does he think this could potentially end in what is essentially his death. Now, throw in the horrifying vision he has of Patricia getting dragged into a glowing sarcophagus. He still doesn’t know what a Sinner is, but he knows that whatever he just saw was really bad; it’s an incentive from the Osirian spirit (or the house, or the gods, or literally whatever) to actually try to get the hell out of there.

So we’re all sitting here watching going “Oh my god they’re gonna nab Patricia and make her evil! 😰” because we have context; Eddie has absolutely none. It’s also really important for later on that his vision ends when the sarcophagus door shuts. It’s framed as incredibly final, and for all Eddie knows, they’ve just stuffed Patricia in what he knows is a tiny cramped space and locked the door behind her. He thinks that at best they are going to kidnap her or, at worst, straight up kill her. Nothing in that vision indicates she’s walking out of there at all.

When Patricia ran off after the fake messages, Eddie is concerned for a lot of different reasons, but the two primary ones are the obvious “oh my god my girlfriend thinks I cheated on her what do I do???” and the other is “if she’s run off on her own, the adults could fulfill my vision!” But then she turns back up, which should be clear to us by now means that he thinks she’s safe. He’s waiting for her (for any of them) to disappear. But when none of them do, they think it’s fine. It’s not that Eddie doesn’t think Patricia is in danger of becoming a Sinner, he just doesn’t realize what that would actually look like.

Even when they’re all in the hallway morbidly joking about having to give up sinning, the language KT uses is telling of what they think being a Sinner means: “We don’t want to accidentally help out Team Evil [by sinning].” Of course, this statement works with the knowledge the audience has of everything, but if Sibuna actually knew what they were dealing with, KT would have said something more like “We don’t want to get captured/turned by Team Evil.” The jokes they’re making are still morbid, but because they think you just get put in the sarcophagus and that’s the end of it.

Let’s flash forward again to the phonograph getting smashed and Eddie’s second vision that prompts the witch hunt panic in the first place. The vision can be separated into three parts: 1) Eddie sees a hooded figure smash the phonograph (okay Sibuna already knows someone did it on purpose, not too crazy); 2) Robert approaches him creepily and has the mic-drop moment of “it was one of your little friends; you have a viper in your nest” (seriously what a raw line of dialogue… but also now Eddie is being told that there is a traitor. Pretty cut and dry); 3) he turns around and sees every other member of Sibuna mockingly throw up the Sibuna sign (uh oh!)

So here is where people (including me!) always got a little annoyed with Eddie for not doing the math. But upon several rewatches and actually listening to what everyone was saying, never once do any of the kids ever bring up the word “Sinner” during the entirety of this whodunnit arc. And that’s simply because it’s not even a thought that crosses their minds. The language they use is very telling: “traitor” and “betrayal” being the heavy hitters. If any of them actually had context for what was actually going on, the language they would be using would be more like “victim” or literally just “Sinner” as a noun. But they don’t, which is why they’re so hostile toward one another… and why KT was screwed from the moment Eddie had that vision.

Because the fact that they don’t know that a Sinner is an evil version of themselves (not just someone whose soul is being used as a power generator), means that on a subconscious level Fabian, Alfie, and even Eddie already assumed KT was guilty. And Sinner!Patricia knew that, and that’s why she was so easily able to pivot and pin it on her. KT was directly linked to Frobisher, and Fabian and Alfie had already been suspicious of her at the start of the season for other reasons. It’s why Fabian let Patricia help him with the finger printing in the first place: because he doesn’t believe it’s her. And Eddie would have no real reason to suspect Patricia for three reasons: 1) Because he’s in love with her; 2) Because he knows just how long Patricia (and Fabian, and Alfie) have been loyal to Sibuna and to each other; 3) Because he, like everyone else, was looking at this betrayal as a willing capitulation to the Team Evil.

The first time Sibuna becomes aware that a Sinner is an entity that they have to actually watch out for walking about (as opposed to just having to watch out becoming), is after KT and Harriet manage to escape Patricia in the Gatehouse. Harriet clearly knows what a Sinner is bc she has the presence of mind to actually explain (vaguely, of course, because she’s drugged to kingdom come) to KT what she’d just narrowly escaped.

And then when she confronts Sibuna and Patricia in the hallway after Miss Crocodile Tears is telling tales about KT trying to kidnap her, KT drops the bomb on the boys: “She was trying to make me a Sinner just like her!” Pause. Record scratch. Okay. Now everything they thought they knew about the situation is completely recontextualized as something much more sinister than what they initially thought. Because I’d always struggled with how cruel they were being to KT, especially if they thought it wasn’t her fault. But everything up until this point deeply suggests or rather expects us to understand that Sibuna only had two pieces of an 100 piece puzzle, and that them being mean to KT was because they thought she actually betrayed them.

With all of this in mind, Eddie is not stupid for not figuring it out right away. In fact, without knowing what a Sinner actually is, it would be an insane leap to assume Patricia had anything to do with the phonograph.

I’ve basically talked myself and all of you in several circles, but the bottom line is the show didn’t do a fabulous job of telling us that Sibuna had no clue what they were up against. It’s easy for us to sit back and go “what the hell is wrong with them are they stupid?” because we have all the knowledge of what’s going on eons before they do. This is a far more charitable read of the characters’ choices and thought process, and the only way any of their actions make any sense. In fact, this is less of a theory and more of what is… literally canon, I guess

#live laugh love dramatic irony #Maybe you all already knew this and didn’t need this behemoth text post but yeah #or maybe you were like me and just like ‘oh they’re all a bit daft aren’t they?’ #tbh this makes everything about this arc way more sinister #anyway sorry that this is so rambly #I refuse to write real essays anymore I graduated leave me alone #house of anubis #tess rambles

[sluttywonwoo]

kaili, happy 12k!!! i love your work so much! you deserve this. thank you for deciding to make this blog, honestly🍬

could i request the prompt “i’m not jealous” and/or “i'll take care of you” with hyunjae? thanks <3

jaehyun’s been watching you talk to eric for almost an hour now, quietly seething in the corner as he ignores whatever juyeon’s going on about. at least jacob is listening to poor juyeon. jaehyun hears his voice chime in every once and a while, which makes him feel a little less bad about zoning out.

jaehyun knows all about you and eric. he wishes he didn’t. he wishes he wasn’t the one you vented to in the midst of your… situationship with the younger boy. at the time, he had been so eager to hear everything. he loved hearing you complain about him, loved telling you that you could do better, loved being the better that you did.

it was less toxic than it sounds, he thinks.

either way, he was there to pick up the pieces when eric finally broke things off after stringing you along for who knows how many months.

you and jaehyun aren’t official (yet) but you treat each other like you are. you’ve agreed not to sleep with anyone else for the time being, so jaehyun doesn’t know why it irks him so much to see you talking with an old flame. talking to the guy doesn’t mean you’re going to fuck him. even if eric is newly single. and looking at you like he wants to devour you. fuck.

jaehyun abandons juyeon and jacob without a word and walks right up to you, placing a hand on the small of your back to alert you of his presence.

“ready to go?” he asks, trying to sound as casual as possible.

you look surprised to see him, even more surprised that he’s touching you in public since no one knows about the two of you.

there was some overlap with the two men towards the end of your thing with eric but as far as jaehyun knew, eric was never clued in to that.

“now?” you ask, to eric’s clear bewilderment. was it so hard to believe you’d be going home with jaehyun?

“yeah, we’ve got to get up early for that thing,” he adds.

there was no ‘thing’ in the morning, jaehyun just wanted eric to know you would be waking up in the same bed. he also needed an excuse to get you the hell out of here.

“right…” you say, leaning into jaehyun’s side. “we’d better get going.”

-

you’re all over each other the moment you get to his place. you barely make it to the bed before he’s inside of you, not even bothering to fully undress you. the skirt of your dress is simply bunched up around your waist and your panties are pulled aside, likely ruined.

“feel good?” jaehyun asks, grunting as he fucks into you.

“god yes,” you cry. “you fuck me so hard when you’re jealous.”

he slows down at that, processing your words. “i’m not jealous.”

you stare at him with an unmoved expression, chest heaving as you catch your breath. “and i’m not full of your cock right now. we’re both liars.”

“you really think i’m jealous?”

“i know you are.”

jaehyun scoffs. “why would i be jealous of that asshole?”

“because you don’t like the thought of other people fucking me and you know he has.”

you kind of have a point but that isn’t the only reason… though jaehyun hopes you don’t know the other reasons.

“so what if i am a little jealous?” he challenges. “i’m the one fucking you right now, aren’t i?” your eyes roll to the back of your head as he drives his cock deeper inside of you. “and i can make you feel so. much. better than he can, yeah? that’s why you’re already fighting off an orgasm… right? i can tell from the way your thighs are trembling. it’s okay baby, you can cum for me. show me how good i make you feel, cum all over me.”

12k celebration

#answered #anon #sluttywonwoo’s 12k #the boyz smut #tbz smut #hyunjae smut #lee hyunjae smut #lee jaehyun smut

[astercontrol]

different ways to de-rez

losing the disc game

you become a glowy ball, which then saunters vaguely upward.

does this mean you go to program heaven?

who knows.

anyway you're not here anymore.

2. losing the ring game

again, you become a glowy ball.

not enough footage available to say what happens to the glowy ball.

even less certainty of program heaven than a disc de-rez

3. losing the lightcycle game

there isn't even a glowy ball!

there's just s crash & you're gone

what a way to go

(maybe your sacrifice helps someone else escape tho)

4. getting hit in self-defense by a disc warrior cuz you're a cop who's after him

you just spin and fall down and then you fade to nothing, in the course of a couple frames.

no glowy effects at all.

very undignified and un-flashy way to de-rez

5. tortured to death by mcp

very cool graphics. you fade away while sorta turning into a visual representation of gridspace or something.

no record of where your energy vanishes to.

no glowy ball that goes upwards or anything

probably either super painful or super pleasurable, going by how clu screams here

you do get to die with the knowledge that the MCP was totally lying to everyone & totally does believe in Users and wants to know who yours is (but lol you didn't tell him)

6. absorbed by kevin flynn to use as circuit disguise

he honestly didn't mean to

he's sorry

but he needed the disguise

you SORT OF become a glowy ball

but it then dissipates into little sparkles that then seem to return into the system and become part of the structures around you

kinda neat. like organic life dying and returning to the earth

is this different effect because you got derezzed by a User?

who knows

anyway you helped him escape, hope you're ok with that

7. succumbing to wounds from a fall, while holding the hand of the User who tried to save you

strangely similar to the previous

similarly, you become little lines of sparks that flow away in all different directions to rejoin the System

is this because a User was involved?

...did Kevin Flynn screw up and accidentally kill someone with his User powers again

is that the meaning of this pattern in similar de-rez graphics

(geez kevin wtf)

anyway you became part of your surroundings again

are you part of the Recognizer now?

does the Recognizer now have a sentient AI who would rather be an actuary

who knows

anyway you gone now

#tron #tronblr #tron 1982 #ram tron #kevin flynn #deresolution

[oleander-nin]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart(Rise! Raph x Reader)

3777 words of complete and utter nonsense. I've never written for Raph before, so I hope I did well

Summary: Your heater broke down in the dead of winter. Hopefully Raph won't mind you hanging out with him for the time being.

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

My eyes flutter open as a chill runs down my spine, the heap of blankets paired with my warm pajamas not doing enough to fight against the cold. I shuffle a bit in my bed, trying to get comfortable again so I could fall back asleep. Winter has taken hold over New York, and the cold was finally starting to creep into my apartment. With my heater being busted at the moment, there was nothing I could really do except try and tough it out through blanket nests and warm foods. The company apparently can’t send someone to fix it until Friday, so waiting it out is kind of my best option. I glanced over at the digital clock that sits snugly on my nightstand, the bright and bold numbers flashing the unfortunate time of 3:22 AM staring me down, serving as a constant reminder of my inability to get some rest. 

I shift under the covers once more, avoiding the cold spots created by the lack of body heat. It’s times like these I start to regret letting Leo borrow the heated blanket I bought a couple years ago. Guilt starts to pile up in my stomach for daring to think that, as I know he must have it worse right now. Even though they are warm blooded, all the turtle brothers tend to be more susceptible to both hot and cold than the average person. Lending Leo my precious heated blanket was a noble sacrifice I had to make if it means he’s getting through this winter a bit easier. Too bad I’ll most likely never see it again, stupid blanket stealing jerk.

My eyes finally start to droop as the drowsiness kicks in a bit more, my mind bouncing from Leo’s blanket thievery to Donnie’s recent invention to Raph’s kind nature, and the serotonin that came with the final thought was starting to knock me out once again.

I came to realize my crush on the giant snapping turtle about a year after we met, and he’s been at the forefront of my mind ever since. Even if his tall stature was a bit intimidating at first, his personality proved to me that he was just a giant teddy bear. A teddy bear with built in spikes, a dash of violence, and separation anxiety, but a teddy bear no less.

I lay my head against my arms, shifting the cocoon of blankets around me to try and keep the heat inside so I could stay warm. Feeling my body giving into the fatigue that held it in its grasp was comforting, and I hoped I could sleep till the sun’s up. Constantly waking up to a dark room was starting to make my overactive mind run through the possibilities of ghosts, demons, and murderers that might be in my room with me. 

My eyes shoot open as I hear my phone start ringing, the familiar tune cluing me in to who’s calling. Raph. I launch my arm out of my warm blankets and aimlessly feel around for my phone. The cold of the room starts to seep into the opening my arm makes, and I grit my teeth at the unpleasant feeling.  My hand finally feels the slick rubber of my phone case, and I quickly yank it back into my makeshift warmth pocket. I answer the call as I put the phone up to my ear, grinning giddily as I greet the snapping turtle on the other side.

“Um, hey. Sorry to wake ya’,” he starts, and I note the grogginess and nervousness that seems to seep into his voice. “I know it’s late, but I was wondering if ya’d like to come over? I had a nightmare, but don’t wanna’ bother any’a brothers right now, they haven’t gotten much sleep as of late.”

I smile softly at his words, knowing the double meaning behind them. He had another nightmare about the Kraang, and he doesn’t want his brothers to see that he’s still suffering. “Yeah, I’ll be over in a second. I’m assuming I can go straight to your room, or do you want me to meet you in the living room?” After the Kraang invasion, Raph’s been having nightmares, and I appreciated that he trusted me enough to ask for help.

“Kitchen, actually. I’ve started making some hot cocoa, and I’m not too keen on drinking it anywhere else. A bit worried I’d spill it, and most cleaning supplies are in Dee’s lab.”

“Okie dokie, I’m heading over now.” I hang up the phone and take a glance around my room. Turning on the flashlight function on my phone, I get up and stretch a bit. The cold air washes over me like a tsunami, and I curl into myself a bit. I almost forgot about the cold while Raph was calling, and it’s taking its revenge by ravaging my body with shivers.

I use the flashlight feature on my phone to help guide me through my room, and I turn on the light once I reach it. I rapidly blink a couple of times, trying to get my eyes to adjust to the sudden bright light faster. Once the world is a bit more clear, I trudge my way over to my closest. I really don’t want to have to change. Raph won’t mind me showing up in PJ’s, right? I mean, it is 3:30 in the morning, so it can’t be that weird. Making up my mind, I grab my jacket and put it on, throwing it over my shoulders as I turn off the light and head to leave my apartment after grabbing my keys. I really hope no one else is awake.

I speed walk down the dimly lit hallway, glancing over my shoulder as I go. The apartment I lived in was relatively safe, but one could never be too sure. Hell, the 2 guys that lived next door got mugged last week. Sure they were across town leaving a pub, but one could never be too cautious.

Leaving the apartment complex, I quickly head for the alley a couple blocks away. I knew there was a sewer hole there, and I wanted to get down to the lair as fast as I could, the cold was killing me. I inwardly cheer as I make it to the sewer plate, mentally patting myself on the back for not getting jumped. Not that I actually did anything, but still, it’s the little things.

Checking to make sure no one's around, I take the robot I got from Donnie out of my pocket and set it on the manhole cover. As manhole covers can weigh up to 250 pounds, Donnie gave me and April these little robots that open them for us. It will forever impress me how the turtle brothers lift them without assistance. Leo loves to hold it over my head how easily he can pick up the plates of steel and concrete, constantly making fun of me for not being able to do the same.

Once the cover is removed, I grab the robot and make my way down, putting the robot back onto the plate so it can close it. I take my phone out as the robot works and put on the flashlight. It gets really dark once the lid closes, and I learned my lesson the first time I tried to climb down in the dark. Turns out, it’s really hard to climb back up a ladder with a broken arm. 

The robot dings and I pluck it off the cover. Sticking it back into my pocket, I slowly make my way down the ladder, trying not to fall. When I reach the bottom, I lightly tap the concrete with my foot. Stepping in a puddle would really suck, and while sewage doesn’t drain through here that often, any water down here is really gross. 

Satisfied with the dryness, I fully step down. I use my flashlight to guide me once more, muscle memory taking over. It was around a 10 minute walk from the alleyway entrance to the lair, but Mikey painted the entire way with little graffiti drawings so I would have something to look at while I visit. 

Once I enter the lair, I head straight for the kitchen. I could see better now that I reached the lair, so I finally turned off my phone’s flashlight. Hopefully it wouldn’t die considering I forgot my battery pack in my rush to get here. As I entered the room, I could see Raph sitting at the island, his red onsie on and his retainer sitting next to him. He was sipping on a mug of what was presumably hot chocolate, and there was a second one next to him. Raph sends me a warm smile as I grab a stool to sit next to him, both of us wincing at the noise it makes when I drag it across the floor.

Raph slides the other mug over to me, and I eagerly take a sip.  Holy moly Raph makes a good cup of hot chocolate, and this was just what I needed to warm me up. The lair was considerably warmer than everywhere else I had been tonight, and I wanted to stay here as long as possible.

Raph takes another long sip of his hot chocolate before he breaks the comfortable silence that settled between us. “Sorry to call ya’ so late, I really ‘preciate ya’ comin’ t’night.”

“Having nightmares again?” You look over at Raph, his mask was off so you could see the scarring around his eye. It was a miracle he could still see out of it. 

Raph nods, staring down at his mug and watching the chocolate drink swirl. His leg was bouncing pretty quickly as he chewed on his lip. I wanted to ask what was wrong, see what was bothering him, but he beat me to it.

 “Do ya’ mind sleeping over t’night? I’d ‘preciate the company. We could hav’a slumber party in the projector room, or just hang out in mine. Whichever makes ya’ more comfortable”

I scan Raph’s face, noting how he’s not meeting I gaze fully. Feeling relief that the main thing bothering him was just the shyness of asking his friend to sleepover, you shoot him a big grin. 

“Dude, I’d literally love that,” I say, shifting in my seat to face him more. “My heater broke, and it’s actually warm here. You’re gonna have to drag me out kickin’ and screamin’.”

Raph finally meets my gaze, brows knitted together making his quote-unquote “Raph chasm” grow larger. “Are you okay? How long’s it been broken? Do ya’ know when it’ll get fixed?”

His rapid-fire questions stun me a bit, I didn’t expect him to care so much. Maybe he likes me back? Is this hope? A sign? I slightly shake my head, trying to shoo the thoughts out of my head. It’s Raph, he cares because his heart’s too big and I’m his friend. That’s it. That has to be it. Right? 

“Yeah, I’m good. It’s been broken for about a day, and the repair dude said it’d take about a week for them to get out there and fix it.” I swirl the rest of the hot chocolate in my mug, frowning slightly when I see just how far down it’s gotten. 

“A week? Isn’t that dangerous? Dee said it’s gonna get pretty close to zero around here soon.” Raph frown deepens and the creases in his forehead grow. I notice his leg starts bouncing once more, the growing worry clearly eating him up.

“Yeah, I’m not too sure what I’m gonna do. So far, the blanket cocoon idea isn’t working the best.”

“You could stay here.”

My head whips over to look at Raph, searching his face for any sign of deception or lies. “I really couldn’t, you guys have your own stuff to deal with, and I don’t want to impose.”

Raph sighs as he leans back on the stool, hanging onto the lip of the island with his hands while he stretches. “I get your anxiety about being a burden, really I do, but you know we care about you right?”

Raph shifts in his seat so he could look at me properly, putting his hand on my shoulder and waiting for me to meet his gaze before continuing. “You’re not a bother, you’re not a burden, and you’re always welcome here. We care ‘bout’cha, and I sure don’t want you to freeze. If anyone says anything about you staying here for the week, I’ll personally have a talk with them, ‘kay?”

My face warms at his words and I just nod my head dumbly, hiding my face behind the mug I continued to sip on. Raph seems to accept this as an appropriate answer, smiling warmly at me before patting my twice on the shoulder and turning back to his normal sitting position. We continue to sit in a semi-comfortable silence as I wait for my face to cool down again. This was not helping my crush on him at all.

I set my mug down gently, stealing a glance at Raph as he tips his head back to finish off the rest of his drink. I smiled a bit at the sight, the red giant’s tail was wagging slightly, obviously being pleased with the way his cocoa tasted. The worst he could say was no, right? That’s what everyone says? If I confess right now, maybe he’d go easy on the rejection. I take a deep breath and steel my nerves. 

“Hey Raph?” Raph’s head turns towards me, his deep eyes putting their full attention on me. “I want to tell you som-”

My words were interrupted by a spoken “GASP”, and I deflate as Raph’s attention turns towards the offending voice.

Donnie marches in, phone in hand as he stomps and spits all over my attempt to finally admit my feelings to Raph. I vaguely notice that he has yet to change into his pajamas, but I was more focused on the eyebags showing around his eyes through his mask. He looked like he hadn't slept in a week.

 “Holy Galileo, is that HOT CHOCOLATE? And you never even offered me any!? Raph, my brother I am OFFENDED!” 

I giggle a bit, my mood lighting up a bit. Donnie really can be amusing when he wants to. Although, I’m not too sure he’s aware of it. 

Raph rolls his eyes at the young pouting softshell, slightly amused by his dramatic outburst. “To be fair Dee, I thought’cha were sleepin’ already. Y’know, like your s'posed to be.”

Donnie falters a bit before perking back up, obviously reading to make his case on why he should be allowed to be awake and drinking hot cocoa, “You cannot turn this on me, no sir. Last I checked, you’re supposed to be asleep too, but you’re still up. And with THEM!”

Donnie accentuates his last sentence by dramatically pointing his finger at me like I was an enemy soldier on a warfront. I loudly slurped the rest of my cocoa, watching Donnie's eyes twitch at the sound. I smile a bit into my cup, proud that I was able to get a slight rise out of the turtle. Raph rolls his eyes once more at his brother's antics, pushing back his chair to stand up properly.

“One, I called Y/n in the middle of the night. This is an apology/bonding hot cocoa. Two, you’re supposed to be asleep. However, I am willing to make more if you want some, I'm running low anyway.” Donnie eagerly nods at Raph’s words, fishing down a mug for himself while Raph starts to busy himself with finding the big cocoa powder tin. He looks over at me, holding the tin and slightly shaking it in a silent question to me. I grin and nod excitedly at the notion, pushing my mug towards him slightly as I mutter my thanks and pleases.

Raph hums as he pours water into a saucepan along with sugar, cocoa powder, and a small amount of salt. Donnie pulls up a stool and sits next to me, his mug in front of him while he plays on his phone in wait.

“Why are you here? It’s almost 4 o'clock in the morning.” Donnie says, never looking up from his phone. 

“Raph called me to hang out and my heaters broke anyway, so I just came to hang out.”

Donnie finally looks at me, his brow furrowing in confusion. “Why isn’t it fixed yet?”

I shrug. I didn’t really know why it wasn't, but it continues to not work. “The company that I contacted said they couldn’t send someone ‘till Friday, didn’t really give me a reason though.”

Donnie frowns at my answer, his ‘eyebrows’ knitted together in a similar fashion to Raphs. “It’s tuesday.”

“Oh wow, really? Gosh, thanks for telling me such valuable information. I will cherish it forever.” Sarcasm drips from every word I spout, and Donnie looks incredibly unamused. I hear Raph snort from next to the stove, so I count this as a win.

“Why would it take them 5 days to come out and fix your heater? That’s a 2 hour job at worst.” 

“Yeah, well, that’s what they told me. There isn’t much else I can do but wait.” I shrug, and turn back towards Raph, watching him stir in the milk before pouring the mixture into each of our cups. Both Donnie and I give a quiet thanks to Raph while he walks around to sit next to me once more.

Continuing the conversation, Donnie speaks up once more. “I could fix it.”

The skeptic look I was staring down Donnie with brightens to one of hope. “Are you serious? ‘Cause that’d seriously be so awesome!”

Donnie nods his head as he sips from his mug, obviously savoring the sweet drink as much as possible. “If you’d want, we could head over right now-”

Raph slams his cup that he was previously drinking, the loud “WHAM” making both Donnie and I jump slightly. Donnie and I both turn to look at the snapper, but Raph refuses to look either of us in the eye.

“Oh Raph-a-la, want to share what that was about, hmm?” Donnie and I both continue to stare Raph down, his face slowly turning as red as his pajamas.

“I, um. They don’t need it done now, plus we’re all tired, so Raph thinks they should stay here tonight. No offense Donnie, but you look like you might pass out any second.”

Donnie continues to stare Raph down, and seems to find something during his analysis. With a little nod to himself, Donnie shoots Raph a tight smile.

“Well, if you say so boss man. I’m gonna take this,” Donnie raises his mug of hot chocolate, “and head off to my lab. Goodnight you two. Come find me in the morning if you want to take me up on that offer, Y/n.”

I nod and Donnie and wave goodbye as he leaves. I hear Raph calling out his own little goodbyes, and I realize we are left alone once more.

“So…., what were you gonna say earlier?” Raph starts, taking a sip from his mug as he eyes me. “It seemed important, but Donnie kinda interrupted you.”

I freeze in my seat. I completely forgot about the almost confession that happened earlier. “Oh, that.. Um, well, I just kinda wanted to get something off my chest, but it isn’t really important. You don’t gotta worry about it!”

Raph’s eyes narrow as he looks me up and down. “Uh huh, sure. Y'know you can Raph anything, right?”

I shrink a bit under Raph’s gaze, my face heating up as I try to work up the courage once more. “Yeah, I know. It's just, I don’t know. I don’t want to make things weird between us.”

“Why would things become weird between us?”

Here goes. “Because I like you, like, a lot.”

I watch Raph freeze, his body grows tense and I start to panic. “Not that you need to reciprocate! I know I’m a bit weird, so I totally understand if you don’t like me back! We can totally ignore any of this happened, I can even go back to my apartment if your uncomfortable, I don’t want to make things weird between us-”

Raph puts his hand on my head, stopping my ramblings. There's a small smile on his face and the pit in my stomach grows. This is it. I’m about to get rejected and he’s never going to talk to me again. This sucks.

Raph opens his mouth and I tense expecting the worst. “Don’t worry! Raph likes you too! Like, a lot.”

What?

That’s not what I thought was gonna happen. I meet Raph’s eyes and they are filled with nothing but warmth. I melt into the hand on my head, the relief mixing with elation and I feel like I just had a sugar crash.

“You do?” I had to make sure, make sure this wasn’t some pity move to make me feel better.

Raph nods, pulling me into a hug which I instantly melt into. “Raph promises. I like you too, Y/n. I have for a while.”

“Oh.” 

I feel Raph’s body vibrate with the chuckle that escapes him. He just holds me for a bit, keeping me next to him to prove that this wasn’t a dream and I wasn’t about to wake up. The events of the day slowly catch up to me, my body demanding sleep now that all the worry was drained out of my body.

“Do you wanna talk about it?” I ask, trying to gauge whether this was a conversation I need to wake myself up for or not.

“No, let's try in the morning. We’re both too tired to think. Do you want to sleep in the projector room, or mine?” Raph shifts me in his arms, standing up while carrying me. I was a bit embarrassed he felt the need to, but I would care more later. I’m still riding on a love high. Plus, Raph’s carrying me, I'm not complaining for the world.

“Uhhhhhhh, yours. I want to snuggle in your plushie pile.”

I watch Raph nod through half lidded eyes, snuggling into the turtles arms even more. I fell asleep before I reached the room, dreaming of all the things Raph and I were going to do together now that the feelings are officially mutual.

01.07.23

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