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#let's see what i can get posted before it starts
dilemmaontwolegs · 2 days
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Not A Verstappen: Away We Go {1}
Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!driver!reader x Lando Norris Summary: Autumn has been introduced to the world but there’s something more special for a first appearance: Monaco GP Warnings: 18+ only, nsfw, angst, fluff WC: 3.7k F1 Masterlist NAV: Sibling Rivalry || One || Two || Three NAV: Gridlocked || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine NAV: A New World || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || Seven || Eight || Nine || Ten NAV: Lights Out || One || Two || Three || Four || Five || Six || 6.5 || Seven || SMAU || Eight || Nine NAV: Away We Go || One || Two
The white noise in the nursery threatened to put you to sleep too but there were still dozens of messages to get through. There had been a constant stream of well wishes to your inbox since the announcement to the world but one had been left on read for three days now and a little rage built each time you reread it.
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It didn’t take long for new ‘exclusive’ information to pop up in the gossip pages, along with the photo you had taken and sent to Jos. It wasn’t a surprise at all, but it still hurt to read what he had said. Trusted sources close to Y/N say she is being monitored for Post Natal Depression and Psychosis, as it is no secret she has had trouble with mental health in the past.
“You are lucky, my love,” you whispered to your daughter who slept soundly in your arms. “Your fathers love you so much.”
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You carefully stood up from the rocking chair beside her cot but the moment you started to lower her to the mattress she began to stir.
“Already a little arm princess, aren’t you?” you chuckled, settling back into the chair to start rocking again.
You didn’t mind getting these rare moments alone with her, even if you were exhausted from waking up to breastfeed her all through the night. As soon as Charles and Lando finished their Zoom Meetings with their teams they would be stealing her away for their own snuggles. It was safe to say everyone was smitten with her. And that wasn’t an exaggeration. The front door barely closed before another visitor came, and Max had taken up permanent residence on the couch when he wasn’t needed elsewhere.
“Is she sleeping?” P whispered loudly as she stuck her head in the door.
“She is, but you can come in.”
Max trailed in after her having let himself in the apartment with his spare key. Your mother was out grocery shopping again so she could do more baking for the visitors of the day. You had told her she didn’t need to but she was enjoying the company and feeding a small army.
“Have you eaten?” Max asked as he knelt down beside P who gently stroked the blanket Autumn was swaddled in.
“You’re as bad as my mother.”
“I’m just checking. Kel said everyone comes to see the baby but no one asks how the mum is doing. I want to make sure my sister is okay too.”
“Now you’ve done it,” you croaked as you started to cry. “I’m over these damn hormones. I was fine until you arrived.”
Max laughed and rocked side to side. “You’ll get over it. Should we go to the living room or do you like sitting in the dark?”
You accepted his hand and let him pull you to your feet since he had long ago mastered the art of carrying a baby one-handed. “You’re going to have your hands full when Vicki drops.”
“I have two arms. Unless you're planning on having another one right away?”
“Max, I love you, but I will punch you if you ask that again. I am still having to sit on ice pads because no one warned me about the goddamn haemorrhoids-”
“Okay, okay, fuck, stop!” he begged with a disgusted look on his screwed up face. 
Satisfied he wouldn’t make the same mistake again, you went to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water and a juice box for Penelope. 
“So Toto still hasn’t confirmed anyone for Lewis’ seat next year,” you said, passing him one bottle before taking a seat with P. 
“You’ve been talking to him?”
“And others,” you admitted. A few more of the Team Principals had sent their congratulations and the ones with empty seats for 2025 expressed an interest, asking what your plans were. “As soon as my six week check up gets signed off Kristian is going to become my worst nightmare again.”
“Do your boyfriends know that’s your plan?”
You shrugged. It had been spoken about before Autumn was born but they all thought having her in your arms would change your mind about returning to racing. None of the other parents on the grid gave up their careers to grow their families, and while there were still empty seats in the teams you were going to shoot your shot until every last one was taken. 
“Never let them know your next move,” you joked before sobering up and sighing. “Working mums are normal in every other business. Plus, I’m only talking about sim racing this year and if I can impress someone with the data then we can go from there.”
Max nodded along as his eyes traced over Autumn’s features, finding Charles’ dimples when her lips pursed with a soft whimper in her sleep. Penelope had finished her drink and turned all her attention to your daughter, giggling whenever Autumn sucked on her own lip.
“Can I have a baby sister?” she asked Max with bright, hopeful eyes.
“Maybe one day, P. You would make a great big sister.” She grinned at the compliment and snuggled closer until she was half on Max’s lap and holding Autumn too.
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Monaco GP
“Ma fifille, tellement belle,” Charles gushed as Lando stepped out of the nursery with Autumn in his arms. She smelt sweet from the baby oil that hydrated her skin and fresh since Lando had changed her diaper before finding the prettiest dress in her closet for her first paddock entrance.
“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak her into McLaren gear,” you commented as you packed the baby bag with extra supplies for the day. Gone were the days of arriving at the paddock with just your phone, now there were a million things to remember since no one wanted to try to return home with the insane traffic that came with the road closures for the Monaco race.
“I hid them all,” Charles confessed with a sly smile before stealing a kiss from Lando’s pouting lips. “If she can’t wear Ferrari then she definitely isn’t wearing McLaren, mon cher.”
“One day when you are at Maranello…” Lando warned with a wink.
“You can finish this squabble later, we have a whole camera crew waiting outside.” The tone wasn’t quite as light as you hoped and it drew the attention of both of them straight to you. The joking smiles fell and Lando lay Autumn in her stroller and clipped in the buckles with a frown. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m fine.”
“You only gave birth four weeks ago, love, it’s okay if you’re not ready to go to the track yet.”
“We wouldn’t be upset if you watched from here,” Charles added.
“It’s Monaco and I am fine, just a little nervous.” Your blasé shrug didn’t fool either of them.
“Of what?”
Charles took over rocking the stroller back and forth so Lando could pull you into his arms. The warmth and security of his embrace was always enough to spill whatever was on your mind.
“The crowd, the cameras, your fans - take your pick.” You looked down at your clothes. They weren’t the designer dresses the other women would wear to the paddock but the maternity jeans and breastfeeding friendly shirt were tidy enough. You couldn’t help noticing the pouch where your belly sagged like a deflated balloon.
“Hey,” Lando murmured, catching your chin with his finger and guiding your head back up to face him. “Do we need to remind you how beautiful we think you are? I don’t mind being late. Charles?”
“I am more than happy to take a penalty.”
You chuckled at the enthusiasm but shook your head. “I would love nothing more than to drag you both back to the bedroom but save it for the six week sign off, you horny devils.”
“We can still show you how sexy we find you without fucking you,” Lando whispered in your ear and Charles’ eyes darkened at the little catch in your breathing.
“Don’t tempt me, but there’s still the problem of the camera crew outside and you’d be on your own explaining to them why we were late.”
“Mon amour, that is the man who asked Stroll if he could wank after breaking his wrists. Would you really trust him with that task?”
“I mean…I would find it funny. Zak might blow a gasket though,” you admitted with a grin. Feeling a bit more at ease after a laugh, you stepped out of Lando’s arms and took a steadying breath. “I’m going to grab a hoodie and we can go.”
Neither commented as you hid your body in an oversized Quadrant hoodie despite the summer heat but you barely made it halfway down the street before you asked Charles if you could push the stroller. There were too many people and too many screams for autographs that your heart started to beat erratically and your breath burned in your lungs.
“Are you okay?” Charles asked, ignoring the people beyond the security team that surrounded your group.
“Let her push, Charles,” Lando urged as he saw a sight he was familiar with in the mirror. It was rare for him in recent years now that he had you and Charles but he could remember the feeling of being out of control and the panic that came with it.
You grabbed the handlebar of the stroller and held on with a death grip in case someone broke through the security guards and knocked into it. Your knuckles changed colour from how tight you handled it and your legs pumped faster with the urge to get to the track and inside the walls of a team hospitality.
From the corner of your eye a shadow slipped through the bodies and your elbow flew out as your mind went straight to the worst case scenario. Was it an overzealous fan wanting a picture or a fanatic wanting to hurt your family?
“Ow, zusje, what the fuck?” Max asked as he rubbed at his ribs.
“Jesus Christ, Max, what are you doing? Don’t jump out at me like that.”
“She’s a little on edge right now,” Charles said quietly, acutely aware of all the cameras pointed their way.
“I can see that. Is it the crowd? Do you want me to call in reinforcements?”
Charles shook his head and walked quicker to catch back up to you. “We would probably be there by the time anyone came.”
Lactic acid burned your calves and reminded you just how hard you were going to have to work to get back to your pre-baby fitness but it felt good too. It brought you back to yourself in a way you had forgotten since becoming a mother and the endorphins from the exercise began to relax your body and mind.
Your pace began to slow and Lando smiled proudly like you had won a world championship. “Now can I hold your hand, love?”
You shifted your hold to the centre of the handlebar so you could still navigate the stroller and placed your hand in his. “Thank you,” you murmured as he kissed your knuckles.
“I would tell you not to worry but I don’t think it will make a difference,” he replied between waving to his fans.
“Aren’t you worried? There’s so many things that could go wrong.”
Lando stopped and turned with a serious look on his face that was only softened by the untamed curl that fell over his brow. “Of course I’m worried too, babe, this is our family and Autumn is the most precious part of it. But, I have to trust that we have done enough to protect her and you and Charles,” he said with a wave towards the security guards. “Do you remember how nervous you were before your first race? You could barely keep your food down and Pierre thought you were actually going to pass out during the Anthem.”
You rolled your eyes but a small smile leaked through. “Don’t remind me.”
“I would have caught you.”
“You were six inches shorter than me.”
Lando stood straighter and looked down at you. “That’s beside the point, I’ve more than made up for it now.”
“Yes, you have,” you said with a wink. “Much more than six inches.”
Charles interrupted the appreciative gaze you dragged over your boyfriend’s body. “Will you two please behave?”
A devilish smirk grew on Lando’s face. “Never, but I will go and sign some autographs before I get in more trouble.”
“Is it me or is he even more cocky?”
“Winning does that to a guy.”
Charles scoffed and curled an arm around your waist. “I will have to remind him what second place feels like, it’s my turn to win Monaco.”
Max laughed, reminding you that he was still there as you approached the paddock gates. “Half the grid thinks the same thing.”
“Well they have a chance with you starting P2,” you teased your brother before grinning at Charles who took pole position. “Take that chequered flag.”
You scanned your ID and the pass for Autumn too as everyone else did and clustered together on the other side again.
“Where are you going to be watching from?” Max asked as you approached his hospitality first.
“Homeboys box, but Toto wants a word so I’ll take bub there first.”
Max looked like he wanted to say something but his name was called out from his team waiting by the dark blue entrance. Instead he stepped forward and kissed your cheek before kissing Autumn’s and tickling her toes. “Tot zeins, mooi meisje.”
“She’s going to speak Dutch before me at this rate,” you complained as he walked away, still not knowing what he said to her.
“Learn quicker then.”
You threw him the middle finger that made him laugh before he disappeared and then it was your turn to say goodbye. Mercedes was the next garage followed by Ferrari then McLaren.
“We will see you before the race,” you promised as you unbuckled Autumn from her stroller and held her to your chest. The garages were tight enough as it was without trying to fit the pram inside too. “Say bye-bye daddy,” you said with a wave of Autumn’s little hand as she woke from her nap. “Love you.”
Charles and Lando both kissed her cheeks and said their goodbye before you received your own chaste kiss on the lips. “Call us if you need anything, I will keep my phone with me,” Charles promised before stepping away.
“Same, and these guys are going with you too,” Lando said with a nod to the security shadowing your sides. Your entourage joined you in Mercedes but thankfully took a wider perimeter since there was a fairly strict policy in who could enter the garages. Toto didn’t seem to mind the additions since you came bearing a pretty great gift.
“You are a beautiful time waster,” he said sweetly as he cradled Autumn to his chest. “I have work to do, little lady, yes, I do, but I’m not ready to hand you over, no, I am not.”
“I get the feeling that Jack will be getting a sibling soon enough,” you said to Lewis who swung back and forth on his chair with his headphones half on his head.
“I don’t think it’s Toto that needs convincing,” he said with a laugh. “It’s not his career that goes on hold, you know that.”
“I never would have said it before, but she’s worth it,” you admitted. “Still not sold on doing it again though, got one more championship to win.”
“I know that feeling,” he said wistfully. “Charles had better bring her to Maranello too.”
“I don’t think much work would get done if she was there,” you pointed out. “And like you said, you have a championship to win.”
Autumn suddenly decided that she was starving and started to cry as she nuzzled into Toto’s shirt and you laughed as you got up to retrieve her. “Sorry, bub, there’s no milk in those titties,” you teased as you picked her up. “Is there somewhere I can feed her?”
Toto looked around and shrugged. “Wherever you’re comfortable. There’s rooms down the hall if you want.”
“I’ve learned it’s not about my own comfort.”
“If anyone’s got a problem they are free to leave,” he said loud enough for everyone to hear and return to their work.
You took your seat again beside Lewis and unzipped the discrete opening on your shirt before unclipping the small window on your bra.
“Come on, man, she’s just trying to feed her baby. Get those cameras out of here,” Lewis said as he blocked the lens and started to herd the Netflix crew back out of the garage.
It had taken a week of trial and error before mastering the art of latching but now you had a routine and Autumn quickly fell back to sleep despite trying to keep her awake. Lando had joked he would sleep better if that was his routine too, at least you thought he was joking.
“Can you hold her please?”
Lewis didn’t need to be asked, he had been patiently waiting his turn since you walked in the garage. He even knew to draw soothing circles and pat her back to bring up her wind. “There’s those famous Uncle skills you bragged about.”
“Told you, I’m just down the road if you guys want a babysitter for date night.”
“I might take you up on that in a few weeks.” You looked over to Toto who was speaking to Bono and jutted your chin his way. “Has he mentioned anything about who’s in line for your seat?”
“Nothing set in stone, just lots of talk - or at least that’s what he told me.”
“Fair enough, you’re the enemy now,” you teased.
“Netflix is going to love this season. Did you see Nando re-signed?”
“Mhmm, I sent him a pot plant and instructions to wipe the floor with Lance. I think he’s taken it on board.” Fernando already had nearly four times as many points in the driver championship so far and you expected that to increase after the race.
“There’s rumours Lance is going to WEC next year, maybe there'll be another seat opening.”
“Fuck that,” you scoffed. “If I get a seat it’s going to be with a team that has some sense of loyalty. I’m sick of being dropped like a hot potato the second anything goes wrong. I’m desperate, but not that desperate.”
Lewis was about to be called for the driver parade and you realised just how quickly time had passed. “I should let you finish your rituals, we still have a few stops to make before the race.”
He handed Autumn back and gave you a hug. “Don’t lose that glow stressing about getting a seat, mama, enjoy your time with this little beauty. Che sarà, sarà.”
“Practising Italian already, huh?” you teased as you buckled Autumn into the stroller where she promptly fell asleep after the movement disturbed her. “I will keep your wise words in mind.”
The paddock was quieter as you made your way down the line of garages. Most guests would already be in the viewing spaces above the pit lane to watch the drivers parade so there weren’t many people for security to part.
“Ma’am,” the head guard called as he stood in front of an imposing suited figure. “He wants a word.”
You nodded your head and he moved to let the man through. “I’m kind of running late, Lawrence.”
“I just want to say congratulations,” your old boss said as he looked into the stroller and removed his sunglasses. “She’s very cute, you must be proud.”
“You could have sent a text message.”
Lawrence sighed at the frosty tone. “In hindsight things may have been handled a little callously but you should understand it was for your own good. This isn’t an office job that can be worked while pregnant, it would have been irresponsible as an employer.”
“I understand that, it was the fact you fired me without even talking to me first - I had to find out through the tabloids - and before that the way you let your son get away with treating his team is actually despicable.”
Lawrence pulled a white handkerchief from his breast pocket and cleaned his glasses as he stared off into the distance. “You’re not wrong, but we are working on his attitude and behaviour - discreetly.”
You raised an eyebrow but he wasn’t going to share anything further, instead he took one last look at Autumn and put the aviators back on his nose. Maybe there was some weight behind the rumours.
“Hopefully we’ll see you back on the grid at some point. You were one hell of a racer.”
“Am, Mr Stroll,” you corrected as you turned the brake off the pram. “I am one hell of a racer.”
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littlexdeaths · 2 days
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bye bye bye - e.m.
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y2k eddie munson x girly reader
opposites attract masterlist
warnings: gareth is a dickhead, hope y’all like some cheesy fluff, eddie is a complete dork but we love him for it.
a/n: this is a repost of my first y2k eddie fic, with some much needed edits and additions. i will be working on editing and posting the rest of this series soon. i hope you enjoy 💕
word count: 1.5k
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Today really hadn’t gone how you’d planned.
You had been hanging out with Eddie and his band mates, something you’d done quite often. Only this time you made the mistake of wearing your *NSYNC tour shirt.
It wasn’t a secret that you and Eddie had polar opposite tastes, it was apparent by just looking at you. You were all pink, bubblegum and boy bands. And your boyfriend was a leather clad, heavy metal enthusiast.
Despite these differences, you fit so well together.
And as they say— opposites attract.
But one of his friends was always more standoffish towards you because of it. While you were always nice to Gareth, he seemed annoyed anytime Eddie brought you around. But today that annoyance had seemingly reached its peak.
And all over a stupid t-shirt.
Eddie had gone to get you both a drink, leaving you in the living room with the three other males. They were discussing the newest Linkin Park album. Which oddly enough, was a band you actually enjoyed outside your normal realm of music.
You perked up at the mention of the album, as it had been the only thing Eddie had been playing since it was released. Feeling eager to see what they also thought of it.
“Oh come on man, you can't say Meteora is better than Hybrid Theory,” Jeff scoffs, shaking his head in response to Gareth’s admission as Eddie leaves the room.
The male rolls his eyes before tossing a piece of popcorn at Jeff’s head, “See that’s where you’re wrong dude, have you tried listening to the albums back to back?”
You take this as an opportunity to add in your two cents, trying to include yourself in the conversation despite your nerves.
“Well, personally I think both albums are great in their own—”
You are interrupted with a loud snort as Gareth rudely cuts you off, glancing down at your shirt before meeting your eyes.
“Why would we care about your opinion of it? All you listen to is boy band trash pop,” he sneers, rolling his eyes as he turns back to his friends.
It felt like someone had punched you in the gut, any other words became lodged in your throat. Jeff and Grant throw apologetic glances your way, but continue on with the conversation as if nothing had happened.
Eddie returns shortly after, completely oblivious to what had just transpired. He plops down next to you on the sofa and passes you a can of coke. Due to your solemn appearance, he knew something was wrong. He just didn’t know what.
A frown tugs at the corner of his mouth as he wraps an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side.
“Hey, you okay?” He asks softly, replying with a shrug of your shoulders.
You let your eyes fall to the open can of soda clutched in your fist. You didn’t want to talk about it, especially not in front of them. The last thing you wanted was to cause a scene, or to give Gareth the satisfaction of seeing you cry.
So you sat quietly through the next half hour, letting Eddie enjoy the time with his friends.
But he couldn’t seem to let it go, far too focused on what had caused this sudden shift in your mood. So he ended the hangout early, claiming to be too tired from work. But all of you knew the real reason, guilt filled your chest as he walked you out to his van.
They must think you’re a buzzkill too.
The questions started the moment the door shut behind him, badgering you the entire way back to your house. You easily dodged his line of questioning, claiming to be tired. But Eddie wasn’t having any of that, he could see right through you. He always could.
“Baby, come on. Talk to me please,” he pleaded as he followed you up the stairs to your bedroom.
You continued to ignore him as you sat on the bed with a sigh. You felt embarrassed, knowing such a silly comment shouldn’t bother you as much as it did. All you wanted was for his friends to like you, but it was made abundantly clear that they didn’t.
All because you favored pop music? It all felt so trivial, like they weren’t even willing to give you a real chance. It hurt your feelings more than you cared to admit.
But Eddie being the sweet, doting boyfriend that he was— wasn’t giving up that easily.
“Just tell me what happened, sweetheart.” He says, kneeling in front of you, palms resting on either side of your thighs.
“It’s stupid,” you mutter, avoiding his curious gaze.
“Nothing that upset you this much is stupid,” he counters as you let out a groan, dramatically falling back onto the mattress and covering your face.
You hear his exasperated sigh, feeling the weight of his chest against yours as he leans over you. Eddie carefully removes your hands from your face, looking down at you expectantly.
“Your friends don’t like me,” you utter softly.
He frowns, confusion settling on his features.
“Why do you say that?”
You sigh, rolling your eyes which causes his frown to deepen.
“Well, just look at me…” you trail off, gesturing to yourself. “And look at you.”
It’s his turn to sigh now, taking your hands as he guides you back into a sitting position. Eddie cups your cheeks in between his palms, leaning forward to press a kiss to your forehead.
“I know what you’re insinuating, but I promise that’s the furthest thing from the truth.” He reassures you, his dark eyes utterly sincere.
And as much as you want to believe him, there’s still a small part of you that wonders if maybe they are right. Maybe you’re too different. He must be able to read the apprehension lingering on your features, as one of determination crosses over his.
“I don’t know what they said to make you think that,” he pauses to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. “But I won’t hesitate to kick some ass, sweetheart.”
Despite the teasing lithe in his voice you know he’s serious, quickly shaking your head. The last thing you’d want is to cause more beef with his friends.
“It’s fine, Eds, I’m just too sensitive.” You give him a quick peck on the lips, “Let’s just drop it, yeah?”
You pull away to scoot further up the mattress, patting the spot beside you. But he shakes his head, remaining on the floor for a moment. His eyes dart contemplatively around the room, stopping on the shelf that held your extension CD collection.
A Cheshire-like grin tugs at his lips as he moves towards it, balancing on the balls of his feet. Your brows knit together in confusion as his ringed fingers graze over the plastic spines, stopping once he finds what he was looking for. Eddie pops the disc out of its case and into the clunky boombox before pressing play.
The beginning chords of Bye Bye Bye fill the once quiet space of your bedroom. Your boyfriend quickly jumps to his feet, spinning around to face you. He plants his feet on the carpet, head falling forward as his hands raise up in a marionette style.
Your eyes widen in realization as you crawl back towards the edge of your bed, suddenly intrigued. Eddie shoots a wink your way once he meets your gaze, beginning to sing along. His voice stood out amongst the others, the raspy quality brought a new edge to the track.
But he didn’t stop there.
You watched in amazement as he nailed all the choreography from the music video. You had no idea when he found the time to study all the moves. Between classes, work, hellfire and band practice he barely had time to think.
But knowing he took the time to do this, specifically for you— made your stomach flutter.
You can’t stop the smile from lighting up your features, giggling as your boyfriend continues to serenade you.
“I don’t want to be your fool, in this game for two…”
Eddie drops to his knees at your feet again, coaxing you onto the floor with him. He presses feather light kisses all over your face, the sensation causes you to giggle more. As hurt as you had been, the male always knew how to make you forget your problems.
At least for a little while.
“That’s my girl,” he mumbled, grinning down at you.
He’s a little out of breath from his impromptu dance routine, bangs lightly sticking to his forehead.
“You’re an absolute dork, Ed,” you giggle, ruffling his curls in a playful manner.
But the way he’s looking at you has your heart racing. His head dips, capturing your lips in a gentle kiss as the song comes to an end.
“Now, admit it,” he chuckles against your mouth, nudging his nose with yours. “I’m a much better dancer than that Dustin Timberlake.”
You laugh loudly, fondly shaking your head at him.
“It’s Justin, baby…”
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masonreds · 2 days
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mason mount x reader
Summary: Y/N distances herself from Mason thinking that it would help her feelings.
word count: 3,7k words
notes: sorry if this is a bit too dramatic for you’re liking 👀 also take a shot for everytime y/n says sorry 😂😂 I’ve also not posted in a while so please leave feedback if you can, it will be appreciated 💞
This isn't how you expected tonight to go.
Here you were, in the bathroom locked away from the fun downsatairs, away from your own birthday party. You just couldn't handle it anymore.
You couldn't handle your feelings for him anymore. You hated being friends when deep down you know you knew what you wanted and the possibility of him turning you down, rejecting you just thinking about it made you an anxious mess.
You couldn't keep this up anymore. You wanted more.
The knocking on the bathroom door made you snap back into reality, and you already knew who it was without them even talking.
You just knew it was Mason.
The person who'd you been trying to avoid for the rest of the night.
'Last I checked, the afterparty hasn't been moved to the bathroom.'
'I'll just be a minute!' You say, trying to sound normal enough.
'What's wrong?' Apparently not.
'What do you mean? I'm just freshening up a bit.'
'What's bothering you?'
'i don't know what you mean,' you try to laugh it off , but the pressure in your chest becomes a little too tight and it comes out as a more gasping noise than a light chuckle. You clear your throat. 'i told you, I'll be out in a minute. It's getting late, everybody else has probably gone, you can go too. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?'
Mason just ignores what you said. 'You would've at least made five sarcastic comments in the last two minutes if everything was fine. You forget how i can read you like a book.' He pauses. 'And you certainly wouldn't be hiding away from your own birthday party for most of the night. Especially when you always refuse to let me leave without helping you clean up.'
Shit
'Mase, i told you, I'm -'
'Cut the bullshit, Y/N.' He told you sternly, before continuing, 'I watched you blow out the candles. I saw that look you made after you made your wish, and you looked up at me for a split second. And that look you had on your face, as if you were going to start crying right there and then. You masked it quickly, but I saw it. I’m not going to stand here and pretend I didn’t see it.’
‘I don’t know what you’re-’
‘Yes you do,’ he interjects. ‘Because right about an hour ago I’m handing you a drink and the next thing I know, I see your face crumple like that again. And-’ he takes a deep breath before continuing. ‘And it fucking broke my heart.’
You stood there, stunned.
‘So, are you going to tell me what I did wrong?’ He asks.
‘You didn’t do-’
‘Because you’re my best friend,’ he reminds you. ‘And I feel like I have a right to know what I did that made you make that face.’
There’s a beat of silence, and he says, in a lower tone than before. ‘Because I would do anything to make sure I never see it again. It breaks my heart seeing you like that.’
Stood still, your gaze is fixed at the door speed the two of you.
‘Y/N.’ He calls out, sounding more desperate than you ever thought him capable of being.
And that does it. The tears you’ve been desperately holding back through every conversation with him you had, not only tonight, but since the day you realised that you were in love with him. You’ve reached the point where there was no return, and the person you want to run to the most is also the one you couldn’t possible bare to see you in this state.
The stretch of silence following your name from his lips feels endless. You feel like you’ve been standing in front of the door, with your face painfully scrunched in a vain attempt to stop the tears from falling, for an eternity. That is until it’s broken by your shuddering gasp for air.
‘Y/N.’ He says again. Only this time his voice has shifted, even thought the distance hasn’t changed, you can feel his voice everywhere now. It has penetrated the walls and filled every corner of the room. You realise this is the first time he’s seen you cry.
Well, no. He still can’t see you.
He can only hear you, which means there’s still time to fix things going from bad to worse.
‘C’mon princess, don’t cry sweetheart,’ he beckons. ‘Please. Just come out and we’ll fix whatever’s happening. I swear.’
Those nicknames, which he sometimes throws around fondly and always makes your chest tighten in joy every time you hear them. It feels worse now. It feels torturous and cruel to hear him casually call you things you wished he truly meant.
And that only makes you cry harder.
Oh how you wish things were different, and how you wished you were destined to be with him.
‘I-I’m begging you,’ his voice sounds strained, and you feel guilty for putting him in such an uncomfortable situation.
‘I’m fine,’ you manage. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll be okay in a sec.’
‘But you never cry,’ he says. Which was true, you never let him saw you raw emotions. You wanted him to think that you were fine and that you could handle it, until you couldn’t anymore.
‘I’m sorry,’ you whisper.
‘Stop apologising,’ he says firmly. ‘Now, can you please come out?’
‘I can’t.’
‘And why’s that?’
‘Because,’ you squeeze your eyes shut as more tears spill over. ‘You can’t see me like this. I don’t want it to change our friendship.’
‘Well what if I want it to?’ He counters.
‘What?!!’
‘What if I want it to affect our friendship?’ He sighs. ‘What if I want you to think you can come to me when you’re upset? Do you really think I’d push you away when you’re like this?’
You can’t get any words out. All you can do is let out a pathetic sob at the kindness of his words.
At my crying he stammers, ‘I’m sorry, did I say something wrong? I just meant-’
‘No!!’
‘No?’ He questions.
‘No,’ you can’t help but smile a little.
‘Well, look, I’m not going to force you to come out,’ he says. ‘If you truly want to be alone, I get that, and I’ll leave and you can come out whenever you’re ready.’
Good.
I think I can work with that - you thought.
‘But if the only reason you’re not coming out is because you’re afraid of how I’m going to react, then I’m the one who fucked up for making you think that you always need to be in a good mood around me,’ his voice softens. ‘I’ll leave you alone if you want, but please don’t try to push me away.’
Damn.
You almost left out a huff of laughter, because you know that no matter what you promised yourself, he always weakens your resolve. And it’s at this moment where you realise just how exhausted you are - how nearly two years of suppressing your feelings have been slowly eating away at you. And the weight of your misery becomes unbearable, and all you want is to leave the terrible ache in your chest behind.
More tears come running down your cheek, that you couldn’t seem to stop. You don’t bother wiping them away as you stare at yourself into the mirror. You see the hollowness of your eyes, the way you look pale in the dim bathroom light, and you know you can hardly handle the weight of your secret for much longer. Giving yourself an almost nod of understanding before reaching the door handle, unlocking the door and throwing common sense out of the window.
‘Princess?’ He asks. Your chest tightens at the sound of that stupid nickname again. It started off as a joke, Mason teasing you after you shared your love of fantasy books and fairy tales with him. And it stuck around, quickly becoming Mason’s favourite way to make you flustered while you always shoot him with an annoyed glare. You always told him you hated it, but after a while you began to carry it with a sense of pride. As much as it pained you to know he was only joking, it always made your heart contract in a way he was only capable of causing.
‘Promise me one thing?’ Your voice is unsteady from all the crying you’ve been doing.
‘Anything.’
‘Shut your eyes, will you?’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Not to brag or anything but I’m certain I’m one of the most ugliest criers out there. And I’m not sure if I can stand you see me like that,’ you do your best to joke. ‘Just for now, at least.’
‘You don’t realise how silly you sound, do you? But if that’s what makes you come out, then yeah sure.’ He says.
And with that, you pull the door handle down so you can open the door.
Mason’s perched at the very end of your bed, his hands resting on his lap. He’s facing you, and you’re relieved to see that his dud are still shut, as promised. You stand there for what feels like an endless amount of time, too stunned to move. But slowly, his hands move from his lap and palms his face up, beckoning you over.
It’s all the cue you need, and you step forward, placing your hands on his forearms, your grip is still shaky. Whilst his eyes are still closed, he engulfs you into a hug. You have hugged Mason plenty of times, more than you can count, but never with you crying into his arms. One hand rubs your back while the other gently caresses your hair, but the tenderness and kindness he’s showing only makes you cry harder.
‘Can I open my eyes?’ He murmurs. All you can manage is a quick nod against his chest. He tries to pull back from the hug so he can face you, but you figure that he cant see your tear stained face if it’s buried in his hoodie, so you remain firmly planted in the hug.
A few moments pass like this, both pressed impossibly close to each other and you can feel your heart rate begin to calm as your tears slowly subside. The exhaustion has saturated your body as you feel as though you can fall asleep on his chest before you heard him speak.
‘You’ll tell me what I did wrong, won’t you?’
‘I want to, but I can’t,’ you tell him.
‘Why?’ He doesn’t sound annoyed, his voice has a playful tone to it with a twinge of worry.
‘Because-’ you whisper. ‘Because you’ll hate me.’
‘Impossible,’ he says. ‘You’re one of my best friends, I don’t think I could hate you even if I wanted to.’
‘As much as I want to tell you why I gave you that look tonight,’ your voice is slightly muffled with your face buried in his hoodie. ‘I know it will ruin our friendship and I don’t think I can bare losing you.’
‘You’re not making any sense. I thought I was the one who upset you,’ he manages to pull away, untangling my arms from around his neck. He slowly rises from his perch, towering above me as he rests his hand on my shoulders. You can’t look at him though, so you lock your gaze onto the floor. ‘Seriously, Y/N, you know I won’t force you to do anything you don’t want to, but you’re starting to scare me.’ His confession makes your heart ache impossibly.
He brings his hand underneath your chin and slowly guides your face up to meet his. A few more tears escape your swollen eyelids, and he gently brushes them away. ‘I want to tell you,’ you avert your gaze, not being able to stand the intensity of his eyes on yours. ‘But I know how it’ll end. And I know you’ll resent me for it.’
‘Please don’t say that,’ he tries to meet your eyes. ‘There’s nothing that you could say to me right now that would make me even think about hating you, okay?’
‘But there is!’ You grip on to his forearms, relishing your closeness one last time. You know you’re going to be selfish you’ve ever been and ruin the most important thing in your life just to give yourself a moment of peace. ‘And I thought I was fine keeping it to myself, but I just can’t go on like this anymore.’
You stagger backwards, as you see the panicked look on his face. ‘I can’t eat or sleep,’ your fingers begin to nervously tangle themselves into your hair. ‘And I know you don’t deserve this, but I can feel myself going crazy and I know that I can’t keep this up.’
He slowly moves closer to you, his brow knotted in concern. ‘Keep what up?’
‘I can’t keep pretending that I’m not in love with you.’
There it is.
There’s no going back now.
He starts to say your name, but you cut him off quickly. ‘No, just let me finish,’ you bury your face in your hands, knowing damn well that you cannot possibly handle his reaction. You try your best to steady your breathing. ‘Because if I don’t do this now, it’ll just continue to eat away at me until I won’t even recognise myself.’
You take his silence as a cue to keep going. You remove your hands from your eyes but focus your attention on the floor. You eyes catch on a potted plant in the corner of the room by three window, and you keep your gaze focused on it as you utter your confession.
‘I thought it was just a little crush,’ your voice isn’t much louder than a whisper. ‘When we met a couple years ago. And then it was like one day I blinked and you and I had become best friends. I couldn’t remember a time when I was so happy.’
You’re crying now. You take another moment to gather your strength, and carry on, refusing to look up at him.
‘I thought us being friends would be enough, and for a while it was. I was fine loving you platonically, because I figured having you in my life as a friend would be better than not having you in my life at all. But my feelings never went away, they just continued to grow stronger and stronger and-’ you try to discreetly wipe your eyes. Your tears blurred your vision almost completely. ‘I knew you would never love me like I love you, because guys like you don’t date girls like me. The date models or influencers. The type of girl you brag to your friends about.’
‘I feel terrible because I’ve lied to you our entire friendship. I feel like this secret has just been festering inside of me and honestly I’ve been so miserable when I wake up everyday thinking this is it, this is the day you’ll find someone else and I’ll truly be nothing to you. But no matter how badly I try to protect myself from getting hurt in the end, I just can’t stay away from you.’ You let out a weak laugh.
You’re rambling now, you can feel it. You find it impossible to stop until he speaks. ‘What if I feel the same?’
You jerk your chin up to meet his eyes. He’s standing closer now, and you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact.
Your stubbornness got in the way. ‘No you don’t. You could never love me.’
It feels like time stops when he says, ‘who said that?’
You shake your head, and viciously swipe your hands under your eyes. ‘No, Mase. Don’t say things you don’t mean. I know we joke around a lot but I would never fuck around with your feelings like that.’ You can feel panic rising in your chest.
‘I’m-’ Mason tries to go on to say until you interrupt.
‘You don’t have to let me down gently.’
‘Please give me a chance to speak, will you?’ He grips your shoulders gently, placing his face close to yours. And then he goes on to saying something you would’ve never expected. ‘Could you just pump the breaks for a second so I can tell you that I’m in love with you too?’
You stood stunned for a while before you managed to come out with ‘what?’
‘You do realise that I’ve been crazy about you for years now, right? I just didn’t know where you stood so I never had the guts to ask you out,’ He lets out a breathy laugh and runs his hands through his hair. ‘Oh god if I had known that you liked me back even a little I would’ve said something! I–I just thought you never saw me like that,’ He trails off. He stops and turns to me suddenly. ‘Princess, I am so sorry. All this time you felt like you couldn’t be yourself around me, like you couldn’t just tell me how you felt.’
You’re still staring at him, dumbfounded. You’ve realized that you still haven’t stopped crying, much to your absolute humiliation. If what he’s saying is true, you think, then why on god’s green earth can’t you calm down? But at this point the panicked sobbing has taken a new shape, now strangely mixed with exhaustion, giddiness, and confusion. You attempt a smile, but you imagine it looks very off-putting, considering your emotional state.
His hand on your arm breaks you out of your thoughts. ‘Sorry,’ I furtively wipe your eyes. ‘I don’t know what’s wrong with me – I mean, I should be jumping up and down with joy, but,’ you release another shuddering breath. ‘I can’t seem to calm down.’
The look he gives you is one you’ve seen many times before, though you never knew how to describe it. Calling it a look of kindness or interest didn’t seem like it was enough to describe the depth of his stare, and it felt too far to call it a look of worry. Only now after these past few minutes have you understood what his gaze is implying. It was more than affection, it felt like love.
‘Hey,’ he murmurs. ‘It’s okay, you’ve been through quite a bit just now, baby.’
I laugh a little at that. ‘That’s a good way to sum it up.’
He smiles again, and your stomach does more than just flip, it somersaults and launches itself into a dive roll. And then he pulls you into his arms again, and though you can’t stop the tears leaving your eyes, you feel like you can at least control your breathing a bit more.
‘Now I know you have a tendency to overthink,’ he says after a moment or two. ‘But there can’t be any of that right now, alright? Don’t think about tomorrow or this new thing between us, alright?’
You pause, but relent with a small nod.
He continues. ‘I care about you like I always have, and my priority right now is to make sure you’re okay.’ His hand rubs reassuring circles on your back as he speaks. ‘It’s late now, and you must be exhausted after everything tonight.’
You let out a small hum of agreement. Now that he mentions it, you feel absolutely wiped out, and a dull pain has begun to take roots in your temples. Mason gently moves back, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear and taking in the sight of you in front of him. For what felt like the millionth time, you feel yourself becoming self-conscious. You know how red and swollen your face becomes after you’ve cried, and you’re willing to bet that the mascara running down your cheeks gives your features an added air of insanity.
‘How about you let me deal with some of the mess in the living room, while you wash your face and wind down a bit?’ he suggests.
‘Yeah,’ your breath still comes out a little shaky as you restate his commands. ‘No overthinking.’
He nods, satisfied with your answer. ‘And when I come back tomorrow, we’ll talk, and then you can let that brain of yours ask a hundred and one questions as it always does. But not until then,’ he finished with a smile.
You can feel your heart start to drop at his words
‘You’re not staying?’
The words are out before you can stop yourself. You know he doesn’t want you thinking about this new thing between us right now, but he has no idea how much overthinking you’ll do if he walks out that door. You know if he leaves, you’ll barely get a wink of sleep all night, wondering if our heated exchange was nothing more than a champagne-induced dream.
Mason looks at me with a smile. ‘Of course I can stay.’
‘Are you saying that because I asked, or because you actually want to?’ You shoot him an incredulous look
‘Let me tell you something, princess,’ he stares deeply into your eyes, refusing to let your gaze slip from his. ‘I’ve never, never left your side willingly.’
His words cause your breath to hitch and for your heart to constrict almost painfully, but you refrain from grabbing the skin over your chest, from making sure that your heart is, in fact, still beating.
‘I wanted you to know that you don’t owe me anything right now, and that we’re still – we’re still us,’ he says. ‘I didn’t want you to feel weird if I stayed the night, that’s all.’
You let out a soft breath. ‘Thank you, Mase,’ you whisper. ‘I trust you, you know that I do.’
‘Good,’ he replies. ‘That’s a relief because I honestly didn’t feel comfortable leaving my girl alone right now.’
You have to physically hold yourself back from grinning at his words. My girl. The thought of those two words, and all they could possibly imply, made me feel light-headed. All you can do is nod your head in agreement.
He gently brushes some hair behind your shoulders, giving you a soft grin. ‘So how about you get ready for bed, and I’ll grab a T-shirt from my car and put away the stuff in the living room. I’ll be back in a few minutes, alright?’
‘Okay, I think I can manage washing my face before I pass out,’ you say jokingly.
Mason chuckles as he walks out of the room. ‘That’s my girl.’
194 notes · View notes
norrizzandpia · 12 hours
Note
hey, totally ok if it’s not ur vibe, but i’d love to see an oscar fic where he’s helping his girlfriend or a childhood best friend when she’s feeling a bit down.
i keep thinking about that man helping clean a depression room and telling his girl not to be embarrassed and he’s there to help and they get it sorted and he just holds her. makes sure she’s eaten and drank something.
even if it’s just a drabble, i’d really appreciate it :) need that kinda care in my life rn, even if it’s fictional.
I made this girlfriend because it just felt softer idk
To Be Loved Is To Be Seen (OP81)
Summary: Oscar knows his girlfriend well and it’s obvious to him when she starts breaking down. He’s happy to help or, more specifically, remind her how worth it she is.
Warnings: this one is HEAVY on the family trouble, depression, anxiety, VERY ANGSTY but def cutest HAPPY ENDING
Note: i didn’t know if you wanted reader to be in a rut or have a reason for it so i just made a reason
Y/n’s first few months of university were hard. Not only was it due to the new course load, but also because of her parents lack of interest when it came to her life. It had been a gradual shift, starting from her last two years in high school and only getting stronger as time went on. They had always been there, overbearing at times, but, now, they posted pictures of their trips around the world, failing to answer her calls and texts. She felt selfish for wanting her parents’ attention as much as she did, but it was hard to fight. There were situations she had never dealt with before, she wanted her mom’s wise words and father’s funny remarks to get through it all. But, she sat alone in the darkness of her room without the guidance counselor she usually could count on. It felt as if she wasn’t enough to keep them there anymore. It was heart wrenching and it stewed within her at such volumes, it became too much.
That’s when Oscar noticed. Her boyfriend had always been attentive, noticing small things about her that no one else did, but the second her smile didn’t reach her eyes and her text messages became less frequent, it was almost as if he was staring her down in anticipation of some sort of sign. He didn’t begin to realize it was related to her parents until he caught a glimpse of her phone when they were together, the screen open to her conversations with her mother and all of the recent texts going completely unanswered. He knew she had always had a rocky relationship with them, but she spoke about them with such respect, he knew it would’ve bothered her to feel so unimportant.
Knocking on her door, his hands clutched the bag of her favorite food he had got on his walk to her apartment. He had planned this evening out for weeks, not telling her about it in worry that she would slip into a facade put together with a fake smile that made his skin crawl.
She opened it, her body tense and tired in a ratty shirt and shorts, “Oscar? What are you doing here?”
It was as if he saw her front go up, her posture straightening and that haunting smile which told him all too well how much pain she was in. He smiled softly, “I thought we could spend the night together.”
She closed the door enough to only peek her head through, “Osc, I’m so sorry, but I can’t tonight. I’m so busy.”
He stayed put, “That’s okay. I can wait on your couch.”
“No, Osc,” She said firmly, her face turning in the light and exposing the dark bags under her eyes.
He stepped closer to her, putting his hand on the door and looking down at her with a look that made her feel loved, “Y/n, let me in. I know you’re going through it. Let me be with you.”
Her resolve cracked, her smile dropping for a second and water suddenly pooling in her eyes, “You don’t want to come in here.”
He leaned against the door and cupped her cheek, “It won’t make me love you any less.”
With a sigh, Y/n pushed the door open, beckoning the boy into her home. He knew what to expect, he knew what it was like to reach the place she was in. So, when he saw the piles of clothes, half-eaten food on the counter with old dishes in the sink, and her little accessories put in the wrong places, something she would never usually do, he wasn’t surprised. If anything, he was happy she had let him in, literally and figuratively.
She picked at her nails beside him, swaying on her feet as she analyzed his every move. Part of her was trying to ready herself for him to walk out the door, give up on her because of whatever stood before them, but he gently set the food on the floor and ushered her into his embrace. His cheek laid against the top of her head, nestled in her hair, as he tightened his grip around her body. She smelled his cologne and felt his sweatshirt which made him feel all the more warm. There was something about his presence, she would later learn it was how safe she felt, that made the turmoils of her mind quiet as she began to cry. Y/n had promised herself that she wouldn’t cry for people who clearly didn’t care, but as Oscar rubbed her back and whispered how much he loved her, she realized it was never going to work.
Her breaking down wet the material of his sweatshirt, but Oscar just held her tighter, whispering how it was going to be okay and this would all pass.
“You’re so worth it all, Y/n,” He whispered, pecking the top of her ear as he smoothed down her hair.
She clutched his back before Oscar was moving her hands under his hoodie to feel the bare of his skin. He knew she loved that. And she did. Y/n’s tears began to dissipate as he told her why he was there.
“I’m with you in this. You aren’t alone. I’m here for you and I always will be. This,” He gestured to the space around them, holding her face in his hands and forcing her eyes to meet his, “doesn’t scare me at all, love. What does scare me, though, is the attempts at eating on the counter. Have you been eating other than that?”
She shook her head, “I tried. It’s too hard. I’m not hungry ever anymore.”
He titled his head with a small frown, “Well, maybe your favorite food will help, yeah? We’ll sit together and eat. We can go as slow as you want, or as fast. All up to you, baby.”
He kissed her forehead lightly before guiding her to the living room, one of the less dirty places, and setting her down on the cushions. He set it all behind him, not wanting to overwhelm her with everything he got, and took out what he knew she would want first. There was a dull sparkle in her eyes when he handed it to her, his heart lifted. It hadn’t been there when he first arrived.
She opened it slowly, eyeing the food she once ravished in seconds, and taking a utensil to pick at it. He looked at her, waiting patiently for her to take a bite. When she did, however small, he did too. When she did again, he did too.
She stopped, “Why aren’t you eating faster?”
He smiled, “Because I’ll take a bite when you do. I don’t mind, Y/n. I told you I’m in this with you.”
Her eyes gloss over as they dart between him and the food before taking another bite, giggling a bit when Oscar takes one of his own dish. She eats, he does too and their eyes never leave each other, offering unspoken support.
When the plastic boxes are gone and empty, Oscar has glasses of water randomly appearing in his grip, offering them to his girlfriend who has found herself tangled in that soft blanket he got her last Christmas. Her cheeks are a soft pink from the warmth of it coupled with the candle he lit in the midst of their dinner and she smiles when the cool liquid flows down her throat. Oscar stands over her, hands in his pockets and wondering how anyone could possibly ignore her texts. He wants to take a picture of her, remind her parents of the beauty they have in their reach. But, he also knows that any text he sends to them wouldn’t be one he should send to his potential (very likely) in-laws. So, he stays quiet and looks at her with the love she deserves.
“Do you need anything else?” He asks, pushing the hair out of her face.
She shakes her head, “No, I’m good. What movie do you want to watch?”
He kisses her cheek, “It’s up to you. I won’t be watching.”
Her eyebrows knot together and she cocks her head, “Why not? Is this some random pickup line where you’re going to tell me how you’ll only be watching me?”
He laughs, his head back, as he walks toward her room, “No, but that’s a good one. I’ll keep that for later. You put on whatever you want, baby. I’ll be cleaning.”
She crawls to the corner of the couch, watching him begin to pick up her room, “Clean? What? Why?”
He stops, turning around to look at her through the door, “Because I want to help you feel better and I know your apartment is stressing you out. You shouldn’t have to worry, love. Just relax. I’ll be done in a few hours.”
Her mouth is agape as he moves throughout her room, putting things away as if he knows where everything goes. He does, apparently. And when the shock of it wears off, a smile cements itself on her face as she turns on a random movie. She enjoys the soft humming of Oscar in the other room, answering his occasional question about the plot of the movie she’s watching. When he moves to the kitchen, out in the open and available to see what’s on the screen, Y/n falls asleep to the picture of her boyfriend doing her dishes and taking out her trash. Falling asleep with a warm heart mended by someone that has always loved her unconditionally.
She’s awoken by the feeling of soft mattress beneath her and Oscar’s arms heavy around her torso. He’s deep in sleep when she opens her eyes, has her completely enveloped in his grasp on her side. The room is dark, the window open and allowing for a cold breeze to flow through the room. She loves it. It’s cold outside, but Oscar keeps her warm. Her hands move their way up to his head, playing with his hair and staring at the man who has treated her so gently.
Tears fall down her face all so suddenly, sniffling lightly but still waking Oscar in the process.
He’s immediately worried, “What’s wrong?”
Her head drops to his chest, “I just love you so much and can’t tell you how much it meant to me that you stayed here even after seeing the state everything was in, including me.”
His soft hands leave her body and pull her face up to him. His eyes are dilated as he looks at her, “I would’ve done it yesterday and I’ll do it for the rest of our lives. I don’t want you to struggle alone. You don’t deserve that. You’ve done too much of that before you met me.”
If only her younger self could see her now. A younger girl worried she’d never find a man who loved her by seeing her now wholly adored by someone who didn’t just see her, but understood her too. She doesn’t even need to utter the problem, he already knows and she’s caught on to that since the moment he showed up at her door. His carefully chosen words about her worth and how easy it is to love her were all strategically placed in order to fix the cracks deep in her soul that have come undone at the hands of her parents.
“It’s just upsetting that they only loved me.” She whispers and for a second, Oscar doesn’t understand what she’s saying. But, the tense of her words dawns on him and the look on her face unleashes anger in his body. Loved. It’s upsetting that her parents loved her. They no longer do in her eyes. She once had parental support, love, but it’s obvious how transactional, conditional it was now. She got a taste of what it was like to be loved by them, but it was taken away when she needed it the most. She had mentioned to him before that growing up, she felt as if they used her presence to shy away from the problems of their marriage. When she was out of the house, she thought they would separate, but the opposite has happened. She served her purpose, now they throw money at trips to fill the void of what they have refused to face. Disregarded and thrown away, that’s the implications of what she’s confided.
He nods, tears in his eyes, “It’s so unfair of them to treat you this way. They’re your parents. They should be there for you, but they have never known how to love and you were just an unnecessary victim in it all.”
She wipes the moisture from her face, “I should just move on from the way they’ve treated me. I should give them grace because they’re my parents. I should just make peace with it all because this will never be fixed in the way I want it. But, I can’t.”
Oscar kisses the top of her head, “It’s okay that you can’t. That’s completely understandable. Giving grace just because they’re your family members isn’t right, Y/n. Just because there’s a blood relation doesn’t mean you can excuse their behavior. They’re your parents and they have neglected you for ages. You can’t keep giving everything to them, only to get nothing in return. Parents or not, you distance yourself from people who bring you down as much as they do.”
More tears smear against his chest, “But, they’re my parents, Osc.”
It’s as if he doesn’t know what to say because he knows how much she praises their drive and determination, giving her a life of privilege. Though, he stands firm on the idea that no one should be given a second chance if they “love” this way.
“I know, Y/n, and it’s so horrible that you’ve been put in this situation, but I think it would do you some good to let go of a part of them. You’ll go home and see them for birthdays, Christmases, but, in the time between, you don’t have to chase after them. You can find love in other things, happiness in other things. I’ll even do some of it with you. We can take up painting classes like you always wanted, walks in that park down the street that you love, studying in coffee shops, and watching the sunset. Life without them can be freeing.”
He’s right, she thinks. Life without them will be freeing. But, the story of letting go is never easy and finding yourself flipping to past chapters to hold onto something that isn’t there anymore is usual.
However, as she lays tangled in the limbs of Oscar, she finds future chapters to be more exciting, more fulfilling. Her whole life is ahead of her, one including Oscar, and that sudden revelation fills her with an overwhelming relief. His listing of all the things she loves, wants to try desperately reminds her just how in love with her he is. Every action of hers is noted by him and she’s spent years begging for that from her parents. She never got it, but maybe that was because something else softer lied in the cards for her. At times, her parents needed her, but they would always need something else more. Glamorous, shiny, new things that would satisfy them for a time. She would never be enough in the minds of them, but in the mind of Oscar, she was more than enough. It was clear she was everything to him.
A life with him would be different from the one handed to her on a broken, rusty platter. She wanted that with him and the way he looked at her told her he did too. Letting go of the dismissal of people she has killed herself for to make proud was maybe for the best, pushed her in the direction of focusing on Oscar and everything she’s ever wanted. Was this her mending old, deep wounds?
Loved and cherished, she found sleep once more, rejuvenated with hope and a sense of moving on.
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luvrxbunny · 1 day
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mini blurbs ─ ★ joel miller x f! reader
a/n: ngl. some of these are blurb sized blurbs but i was just too lazy to give them their own post 😇
wc: 992
warnings: 18+ MDNI, cum in pants, voyerism(?), dry humping, piv, blowjob
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-> dbf!joel who gets invited to the family bbq/pool party only to lose his shit the second he sees you. he ends up (uncharacteristically) being the first person in the pool because there’s no other way to hide how hard he is.
you eventually feel bad, watching him float around the empty pool, and decide to join him.
so he has to touch himself while you’re talking to him. you’re so beautiful in the sunlight, your skin basically glowing. you’re just slightly sweating, letting joel’s imagination conjure up insane scenarios.
to top it all off, you start touching him. you notice his silence along with his sweaty and red face. you assume it’s the heat, pressing the back of your hand to his forehead then his cheek, and commenting on how hot he feels.
his hips repeatedly jerk towards you as he cums into the netting of his shorts. trying to keep his voice steady as he lets you know that he is perfectly fine.
-> dbf!joel who is disgustingly depraved. like he lurks around your room at night, sometimes just standing out in the hall to hear you moving around in there. you catch him spraying your perfume on his shirts on multiple occasions.
you don't technically know what he does with the shirts but you know that when your dad has him in the guest room, he thinks the walls are a lot thicker than they are.
-> finally convincing joel to send you a full body video of him cumming and he shocks you to your core when it’s just a video of him sitting back, full body in frame, his thick hairy thighs and huge arms grabbing your attention instantly. he’s looking directly at the camera as his cock bobs between his thighs, twitching and leaking everywhere for the camera before tensing up and spurting across his chest. joel’s head flies backwards as a deep groan rattles from his chest as he paints it white. he comes down with slow chants of “oh baby-” and "fuck, sweetheart." before going silent, just huffing into the air.
when he looks back down at the camera you can see a blush over his cheeks as he reaches for it. you can tell he's looking at himself not the camera when he gives you a “hope that was alright.” and a soft, timid smile before it ends
you respond with “come over right now.”
-> trying to give joel a blowjob for the first time. he's basically bouncing in his seat as you get on your knees. you take your time unzipping his pants, smiling at the way he moans at everything you do. his breathing picks up once you reach for the band of his breifs, his hands coming to the side of his chair, gripping so hard that his knuckles almost turn white. you take a moment to take in his state, all disheveled despite the fact that you've done nothing but undress him.
he rewards you with a desperate, breathy "i'll do anything".
his hips are fucking into the air as he keeps his eyes trained on the ceiling. you concede, wrapping your hand around his dick and shocking a moan out of him. you finally lean forward to place your lips on his tip, licking at his slit softly, relishing in his salty taste. he sucks in a sharp breath and never exhales.
you pull off of him to giggle at his reaction, maybe lick up his shaft. but the second you come off, his hips pump into the air, humping his dick against your cheek before cumming all over your face.
he groans like he got kicked in the chest, completely out of breath and so gravelly you know his voice will be scratchy afterward.
“mmm fuck. m’sorry. m’ so so sorry, love. s- so good.”
-> joel who wraps his arms around you so tightly that they shake when he cums. no matter what position. he’ll either rearrange the both of you so he can wrap you up or he’ll figure out a way in the position you’re in.
if he’s fucking you in doggy then he’ll lean down and wrap one arm around you. to make up for the missing arm, he’ll rant about how much he loves you in your ear.
his favorite position to have you in is spooning. first, because it's convenient. second, because he can wrap both his arms around you and pull you against his body as tightly as he wants.
sometimes he'll lock you in place and flip onto his back, planting his heels into the bed before beginning his relentless pace into your crying cunt.
-> in a van for a supply run with joel, tommy, maria and some other unknown characters. maria and tommy are upfront with the goons taking up the middle seats. you had to beg joel for this but you guys are in a cuddling position. joel sitting with his back to window, one leg straight and the other planted on the floor. you're sitting between his legs, leaning back against him but sitting straight enough to just turn your head if you want to kiss him.
but the road is more worn down than either of you expected. you try to act like you haven't only been focused on the hot bulge digging into your back every time the van bumps over a rock but once you feel the hot mass begin to harden and expand, you realize you're not the only one struggling with those thoughts.
with some more begging, a lot of neck kisses, gentle caressing, and soft, desperate words to joel. you're now in the same position but bent at the waist, giving him perfect access to your perky ass.
he's having way more fun than he'd care to admit but you can feel it. he was cautious at first, stopping anytime someone said something he thought might draw attention to the back, or even when the van got too silent. but know he's going at you. he's bringing your hips back directly on his cock like he's fucking you.
and he has no problem draping himself over your back to lean in your ear so you can hear him cumming in his pants for you
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piplupcola · 3 days
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Watcher fans, as someone who has seen this rodeo happen to other internet groups and companies time and time again, I suggest not letting your guard down just because they made an update response to their video.
Cos it always starts of with "guyssss nothing is gonna change, everything is going to exactly the same with only some minor changes dont worry! uwu"
And guess what? It's almost and undoubtedly a lie. Every single time I see this happen they slowly roll new things and change it for the worst. "Nothing's gonna change!" and then a year down the line everything is completely different and bad and it's too late to fix it and they have your money so at that point they're not gonna care.
Biggest example I can best describe is Roosterteeth cos I used to be a fan of them for years. They pulled the "nothing's gonna change we're just gonna post stuff a week later than members will get to see" stunt so many times years ago and guess what? They're shutting down this week because it all came to bite them in the end.
I'm not like suddenly anti Watcher or anything in fact I'm glad they're still keeping the youtube channel up but I've been through this rodeo before and this like the easiest corporation tactic to slowly turn the heat up and make shit worst until you the frog notices too late to get out of that boiling pot. The only difference in Watcher is that they did a dumb and accidentally spoiled the ending for the frog before they could turn up the heat and boil it.
Big companies like Disney did it. Small companies like Roosterteeth did it. And now Watcher's doing it. Don't fall for it. "Oops sorry!" Isn't gonna cut it when you break the trust of your audience to that extent. People's opinions of them are never gonna be the same, and everything that has occurred (the video, the silence, the targetted backlash commenting they did and what's gonna happen at the live tour tmr) should make everyone think twice before spending your well earn money on their sketchy platform.
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cosmicluvcore · 3 days
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To be human part 2
Rottmnt Leo x reader, gender neutral, friends to lovers, himbo Leo (?), one sided pining
Part 1 here
Summary: Leo has the biggest crush on you but he's afraid that you'd never date a mutant, so with the help of a clooking broach he plans to become your perfect human boyfriend!
Idk if you can tell but this is kinda Aladdin inspired
Also I wasn't sure abt posting this since it has no Y/N interactions umm so sorry if you're dissapointed
I promise the next one will have fluffy moments between Y/N and Leo!! Sorry this is short
Tag list!!
@lunaflyer @wings-of-sapphire @ssak-i @nessarolla-in-constant-flux @envyjmoney
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"¿Qué hice para merecer esto?" Is what the disgruntled Señor Hueso muttered under his breath, as he watched Leo come crashing into his restaurant.
Of all the times that mutant decides to show up, it had to be on a good day. A loud sigh left the skeleton's mouth as he watched the turtle bump into one of his waiters, knocking all the dishes out of her hand.
"Señor! Señor!" Leo called out eagerly as he approached, "I have a really, really important request and you have to-"
He was interrupted by Hueso placing his hand up, narrowing his eyes in annoyance.
"Instead of disturbing my guests, Pepino, let's talk in the staff room."
~
Leo was still wiping spilled spaghetti off himself as he spoke. Amazingly, that didn't stop his excited flow.
"Señor, bone head, buddy! Long time no see, right?" Leo asked in an overly friendly manner, offering Hueso a hand.
Hueso glanced at his hand, which had marinara sauce on it, before glancing back at Leo with an unimpressed expression.
"Uf hijo, did you just come here to cause trouble?" He asked rather bluntly.
Leo chuckled to himself, "Of course not! I just came here for a little... help."
"Help?" Hueso repeated, tilting his head as he watched Leo's over excited behavior.
"Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me get my hands on a cloaking brooch." He explained briefly while wiping away the bit of sauce that was on his shoulder.
"A cloaking brooch?" Hueso repeated raising his brow, "Why would you need one of those? I've seen you walk among humans like it's nothing."
"It's not for that."
Leo bit his lip unsure whether he should let the truth spill, no one knew of his little crush and he was afriad if he started talking about them he wouldn't know when to stop. So he took the easier route.
"It's for uh- You know... science." He lied, smiling awkwardly as if that made his reply more believable.
Señor Hueso simply shot him an unconvinced expression.
"Este idiota..." The skeleton muttered under his breath, "Why don't you just say why you really want it? It would save you from the embarrassment of lying to my face."
Yeah, Hueso wasn't buying it. Figures.
"Okay okay, I'll admit that wasn't my best performance," Leo said with a grin, although his trade mark smirk faded into a small frown as Hueso stared back at him with narrowed eyes.
"Truth is I'm trying to impress someone..." He admitted quietly, his gaze darting to the ground, while he fidgeted with his hands sheepishly.
Hueso blinked in surprise at the turtles sudden shyness, "Trying to impress someone?" He repeated curiously, looking back to the blushing turtle for futher confimration.
Leo bit his lip, his heart fluttering at the thought of them, "A human." He confessed softly.
"I've never felt this way about anyone before, they're just perfect in every way!" He explained brightly, though his happy expression faultered, "But, I don't think they'd be interested in, this whole situation." He frowned, gesturing to himself.
Hueso nodded slowly as he listened, "I see," He hummed in reply, looking thoughtful as he considered Leo's situation for a moment, "So you want to pretend to be human and lie to them?"
Leo frowned at the skeletons blutness, "It's not a lie! I'm just... bending... the truth," He said, his brow furrowing as he spoke.
Even he didn't believe himself this time.
"Alright it's kinda a lie, but what other chance do I have?"
"I don't know, tell them the truth?" Hueso retorted, Leo couldn't help but roll his eyes as he was lectured on the obvious answer, "If you really think this person is worth it, then you should be honest with them."
"The last thing I need to be is honest." The turtle insisted stubbornly, his expression souring at the idea of even attemping to tell his crush how he felt.
Leo hated to picture it, he hated that he knew his voice would tremble as he would try his best to convey to them how deeply he felt.
He hated how he knew he would stammer over his words as he scrambled to find the best way to express his feelings.
And then he would have to wait impatiently for their reply, fearing the worst, after this new discovery.
Not like he could blame Y/N.
Who wouldn't turn down a nervous idiot? And why would anyone ever be interested in someone who looks like him?
"I don't want to risk losing them." Leo finally said, sighing before meeting Hueso gaze again with a serious expression.
"Look, all I need is a brooch. I just want a chance to be with them and make them happy. Please, Señor?"
As Hueso watched Leo's sad expression he was still unsure how to reply, he knew this was an awful idea yet Leo seemed so attached to it. The puppy dog eyes that the blue masked turtle was giving him eventually casused a defeated sigh escape Hueso's mouth.
"Fine, I have a spare somewhere around here," Hueso muttered reluctantly, too tired to keep pushing, turning to his desk and opening a drawer, "Just don't blame me when things go terribly wrong."
Leo's expression immediately brightened.
"Really?!" He leaned over Señor Hueso's shoulder, eagerly watching as the skeleton searched.
Eventually, Hueso found it, a gold gemstone-adorned brooch.
As Leo looked at the badazzled brooch, excitement began to bubble in his chest, the glamorous item really did make this whole situation seem a lot cooler. This was his key to being Y/N's perfect romantic partner, something he'd dreamed of for far too long that was now finally a possibility. His heart soared at the thought.
"Here," Hueso said, handing him the brooch, "Try not to get spaghetti on it, Pepino."
Leo was practically vibrating with excitement as the brooch was placed into his hands. He nodded at Hueso's words despite not really hearing them.
"Thanks Señor! I can keep this right?" He asked.
"Just don't damage it." Hueso warned in reply, "If you do, it could stop-"
But before he got the chance to finish his words, Leo had disappeared into another blue portal.
"-working..."
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morgana-larkin · 3 days
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Love your writing and if you have time I have a prompt: I would love to read a Mel x reader soulmates story and can be any type of soulmate: tattoo on the body with words, marks when they touch each other, one feels there pain or any other type. Thank you ❤️
I loved this prompt! I always have a soft spot for soulmate prompts and fics. I went with 2 different ideas that I like. A soulmate counter, that keeps going up with every interaction and feeling a pull when you touch for the first time. And I’m sorry in advanced, it has smut and most of them this week more than likely will as I’m starting my period in a week so my hormones are everywhere right now. Anyway not edited in the slightest and I hope you like it!
On another note: if anyone is ever curious about what fics are on my list, let me know and I’ll post it. I noticed how many people liked when I posted the Google docs one and I was surprised. Anyway, I wish you all luck with my period driven fics this week.
It Starts With Zero
Warnings: smut, fluff
Words: 3.6k
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Melissa is in bed staring at the inside of her wrist. They say when your soulmate is born, then a 0 will appear on your right wrist. If you don’t have a soulmate then one will never appear. If you’re born right away with a 0, that means your soulmate is already born. When you meet your soulmate, that 0 changes to a 1, and keeps going up every time you interact with them. The first time you and your soulmate touch each other, you feel a pull. When you and your soulmate fall in love, the number on your wrist changes to a heart.
Melissa is 22 and is set to marry Joe tomorrow. Her wrist is empty, which means that her soulmate isn’t born or she doesn’t have one. Joe doesn’t have one either, so naturally she and Joe decided to marry each other.
So here she is, in bed, staring at her blank wrist. She’s about to tear her eyes away and go to sleep when all of a sudden, a 0 appears on her wrist. Melissa freezes and her eyes widen. She has a soulmate and they were just born. That means her soulmate is out there and they’re 22 years apart. She decides to keep quiet and just cover up her wrist as she has to get married tomorrow.
*25 years later*
You walk in the doors to Abbott. You were so excited, you’ve been a sub for a couple years and then you saw a full time teaching position at Abbott. You immediately applied and you got it.
You get your teaching badge and classroom key and Ava brings you to the break room to introduce you to the other teachers there. You step in with her as Ava introduces you and 2 teachers immediately come barrelling at you and they introduce themselves.
“Hi I’m Janine, nice to meet you!”
“Pleasure to meet you y/n, I’m Jacob.” You shake hands with both of them and they ask you a couple questions before they go and sit down again. You look over to your right a bit and that’s when you see her, all red hair and green eyes.
You go up to the table and you introduce yourself and hold up a hand for her to shake but she just stares at you unimpressed.
“I don’t interact with newbies.” She says. The teacher beside her immediately introduces herself and you shake hands with her.
“Hi I’m Barb.” She says.
“Pleasure to meet you Barb.” You tell her. Ava then escorts you to your classroom. You’re so overwhelmed for most of the day from meeting a bunch of the teachers there that you didn’t notice that your wrist has a 1 on it now. Well you don’t notice until the end of the school day.
Melissa’s wrist also changed to a 1 and Barb notices as soon as you left the break room.
“Melissa, your wrist.” She says and Melissa looks at her wrist and sure enough there was now a 1 there and she gasps. Barb’s wrist has a heart as she and Gerald were soulmates and are in love.
The trio heard the conversation and walk over to the table to look at Melissa’s wrist.
“Omg Melissa, you met your soulmate!” Janine says excitedly.
“When did it appear?” Jacob asks.
“I don’t know. It wasn’t there last night.” Melissa says shocked.
“That means that you met them today!” Janine says. “Who have you interacted with today that you haven’t before?”
Melissa thinks, she didn’t go anywhere today, just straight to the school. She looks up to where you were standing and doesn’t respond. She got her soulmate mark 25 years ago and you look to be around that age. You were also the only new person she interacted with today. Barb looks to what she’s looking at but doesn’t see anything, then it clicks. “Is it the new teacher?” Barb asks and Melissa looks at her, still stunned.
“I- I don’t know.” Melissa says.
“When did you get your soulmate mark?” Gregory asks.
“25 years ago.” Melissa says. “The night before my wedding to Joe.” Melissa mutters and they all gasp as they heard it.
“Oh I could find out how old she is for you.” Janine offers.
Melissa looks at Janine and nods. “Ok ya, thank you.” Melissa tells her and Janine smiles softly at her.
So before the assembly starts, Janine sits down next to you while everyone else sits across the room to keep their distance.
“So is this your first full time teaching job?” She asks you.
“Ya, I got my teaching licence a couple years ago and was subbing until now.” You reply and Janine smiles.
“So you’re what? 25? 26?” She asks and you look at her confused.
“I just turned 25 a couple months ago.” And Janine grins but you look at her even more confused.
“Sorry, just I love birthdays. Happy belated birthday!” She says and you smile and thank her.
Janine sits there and keeps asking you questions. The whole time knowing that Melissa got married 25 years and a couple months ago.
After lunch, Janine goes to Melissa’s classroom to tell her what she found out. Turns out, Barb, Jacob and Gregory were there as well, all wanting to know. Janine closes the door and walks over to where they are in the middle of the classroom, all sitting on desks.
“What did you find out dear?” Barb asks Janine and Melissa looks over at her scared.
“She just turned 25 a few months ago.” Janine starts and Melissa looks shocked.
“Do you know her birthday day?” Melissa asks and Janine nods.
“June 15.” Janine says and Melissa covers her mouth.
“I got married to Joe on June 16.” She says as it hits her. You were her soulmate. Melissa’s eyes got watery and Barb hugs her while the others try to comfort her the best they can.
At the end of the day, you look at your classroom and sigh. You did a lot of work today and you still have the rest of the week to get ready for the students before they arrive next Monday.
You leave and lock your classroom. As you lock it, you see your wrist and realise that there’s a 1 there instead of a 0 like there was this morning. Does that mean that your soulmate is a teacher? But then realised you met like 20 teachers today and you shook hands with 15 of them and didn’t feel a pull. All of them are older than you so it could be any of the 5 that you didn’t shake hands with. You’re so busy looking at your wrist that you don’t realise that Melissa is looking at you from down the hall. She knows you’re her soulmate but then she sees that you don’t know who your soulmate is yet. She walks away to her car and you hear her heels click and you look up at the sound and see Melissa down the hall, walking away to the parking lot. You briefly wonder if it’s her. You didn’t shake her hand today and you interacted with her.
The next day you wander in and you ask Ava for your help to find your soulmate. She immediately agrees and shows you last year’s yearbook. You point to the 5 teachers that you met yesterday but didn’t shake hands with them. The last one you get too is Melissa and you point to her. Ava gives you a look but doesn’t say anything, she just writes Melissa’s name down.
Ava starts to bring you to the teachers to figure out who your soulmate could be. You start talking to them and for the first 3, the 1 on your wrist doesn’t change. She took you to the 4th and take a deep breath, you realise if this one doesn’t change then you think you know exactly who it is. You interact with the fourth one and while you get along with her, the 1 on your wrist remains.
“Ok, the last one is Melissa.” Ava says and begins to walk you to Melissa’s classroom.
Melissa saw you and Ava walking around, she wonders if Ava is bringing you around to meet teachers or to find your soulmate. Then when she puts the chalk back down after writing ‘welcome back’ on the chalkboard, she dusts her hands off, then looks up and sees the two of you at her doorway.
“Can I help you Coleman?” She asks Ava then looks at you.
“Nope, just showing Newbie here the teachers.” Ava says and pats your head. You look offended at her patting your head and glare at her. Melissa sees and has a small smile on her face before frowning again.
“Well I told her yesterday that I don’t really interact with newbies.” Melissa tells Ava. She doesn’t want to interact with you, fearing that 1 will change to a 2. She’s about 99% sure it’s you but it changing to a 2 will make it 100%.
You realise that Melissa isn’t going to talk to you and realise if you want to know then you’ll have to take the chance.
“The newbie is standing right here and can hear you.” You tell her and cross your arms. She looks at you surprised because you just interacted with her, she didn’t expect you too. She glances at her wrist briefly and sees a 2. Crap!
Melissa quickly wonders if she should get to know you or just stick to not getting to know the newbies until a year later like all the others. But then quickly thinks that you’re not everyone else, you’re her soulmate. And that makes her freeze, you’re her soulmate and you’re standing right there looking at her.
You look at her surprised reaction and you don’t see the 2 on your wrist as you crossed your arms.
“Sorry.” Is all she says. You nod then uncross your arms and you quickly glance at your wrist and see a 2. You do a double take and freeze, looking at your wrist. Ava sees the 2 and smirks then looks up and sees Melissa looking at you then down at the ground.
‘Oh’ Ava thinks. Melissa already knows. “Well this was fun but I got people to influence.” Ava says then quickly leaves, leaving you and Melissa in the classroom.
You and Melissa stare at each other in the eyes for a second.
“Well I guess I should go.” You say nervously and turn to walk out.
“Wait!” Melissa says and you turn around. Melissa walks over to you and holds out a hand for you to shake. “Welcome to Abbott.” She tells you with a smile.
You glance at her and think of how pretty she is when she smiles. You then smile back at her and shake her hand.
The moment you put your hand in hers, you both felt it. The pull in your heart. Melissa feels it too and she quickly lets go of your hand. She realises you could probably feel it too and she shouldn’t have offered a handshake.
You look up at her after she yanks her hand away. “Alright well, nice meeting you kid but I got a classroom and a school year to get ready.” She says and turns around and starts to walk away to her desk.
“You’re my soulmate.” You say and she freezes and doesn’t turn around. “You know that though, don’t you?” You say and at that she turns around.
“Look kid, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She says and you walk towards her. You stand in front of her and take her right arm and move it to see her wrist. Sure enough there was a 2 there just like on yours and you show her your wrist with the 2 as well.
“I felt it when we shook hands, the pull that everyone talks about. It felt like my heart did a flip.” You say and a tear falls down her cheek. “Hey, why are you crying?” You ask her confused.
“You’re right, I know it already. From the moment we met yesterday.” She says to you and you drop her wrist gently. “The 0 didn’t appear until the night before my wedding. I still got married and then I hid my wrist for 10 years until Joe finally saw it and then we got divorced.” She tells you and you finally realise why she’s crying. She’s scared, actually no, she’s terrified. “I know you’re 22 years younger than me. I knew that when the 0 appeared 25 years ago. But what if you don’t want someone 22 years older than you?” She says and you look in her eyes and tuck a lock of hair behind her ear.
“You’re my soulmate for a reason, Melissa.” You tell her and she looks into your eyes. You saying her name felt different than when other people say it. With you, it felt right. Like her name was meant for you to say it. “I don’t care how much older you are. When I first saw you yesterday, before I knew that you might be my soulmate, I thought you looked beautiful.” You tell her and she smiles a bit at that and has watery eyes. “Would you like to go on a date with me?” You asked her and she looked stunned then smiled and nodded.
“Yes, I would love to.” She says and you beam.
“Great! How does this Saturday sound?”
“It sounds perfect.” She says and gives you a soft smile.
On Saturday, Melissa picks you up and brings you to her house and cooks for you. The two of you have been talking to each other throughout the week and getting to know each other. You glanced at your wrist when you were getting ready for the date and it said 26. 26 times you two interacted this week and you smiled.
After you two ate what she cooked (which tasted like heaven), you sat on her couch and you saw faint lines of a heart around the number on your wrist. You two were falling in love. Melissa puts a finger on your chin and gets you to look at her and you blush. Melissa saw the heart on her wrist earlier and she smiled when she saw it. When you look up at her, you lock eyes and then you both lean forward and kiss.
To Melissa, the kiss felt different than it did with Joe. When she kissed Joe it was nice but something was always off. But kissing you, nothing felt off, it felt good, it felt right. You both pull away and just stare at each other and smiled.
The rest of the week went by quickly. You got to greet your students and their parents and met more teachers, you were loving your job. You and Melissa kept talking throughout the week and you were both loving it. She gave you her phone number last week so you wouldn’t have to be apart if one of you wanted to talk to the other.
The next Saturday, you two had another date and you went to her house again. You two were talking while she was cooking. At one point you just stare and watch her in her element and she smiled when she caught you staring.
“Whatcha looking at?” She asked you.
“You.” You simply said and she blushed. “You look stunning.” You said and you had a big smile and a blush on your face.
“Thank you hon, you look stunning too.” She replied back to you with. You notice how the faint heart was more noticeable this time.
You both sat on the couch again and you both leaned forward and kissed. Only this time, neither of you pulled away. You scooted closer to her and she held on your hips while you cupped her cheek. It got more heated and you had both hands in her hair, and hers moved up to your upper back just under your shoulder blades.
You moaned into the kiss and Melissa smirked. She then moved a knee up to be on the couch and turned more to you. She then gently kept leaning forward, pushing you back, but giving you the option to stop if you wanted.
You didn’t stop her, you knew what she wanted and you wanted her as well. Melissa was on top of you on the couch and you were still making out with her. You then moved your hands down her body and slipped them under her shirt. You were roaming your hands all around her stomach, hips and back and you moaned again. This made Melissa feel good, you haven’t even touched her chest and you were already enjoying her body.
Melissa had one hand on the arm of the couch to keep herself up a bit to not put all her weight on you. You then started pulling her shirt up and she shifted her body so her knees are beside you and you’re able to pull her shirt off without her crushing you.
You break apart to lift her shirt off and you stare at her. Melissa was self conscious for a second. She knows you’re aware that she's 47, and she thinks that her body looks like it’s seen better days, and she’s definitely not a thin skinny woman.
All her doubts fade away however when you stare and run your hands all over her again and smile. “You’re so beautiful, inside and out. Your skin is so soft and so much to touch.” You tell her and she smiles.
“So you’re alright with the fact that I’m not skinny?” She says and you look taken aback.
“What? You got amazing hips, thighs for days, and your stomach is incredible. You're curvy and I prefer that more than those stick girls. You have the body of a woman and I love it.” You tell her and she blushes. She goes back to making out with you and she unclips her bra when you don’t and she gets impatient. You giggle at her actions and take the bra off after she unclips it and you don’t stop kissing her to look at her chest. Melissa gets confused about that. 3 thoughts run through her head. One: either you don’t care much about breasts so you’re not bothering. 2: you don’t like what you saw of her chest already and would rather prefer kissing her instead of seeing her breasts. And 3 (probably most unlikely, Melissa thinks): you’re so into the kiss that you forgot to look or you don’t want to pull away cause you love kissing her.
Her thoughts get interrupted when you cup her breasts and moan into the kiss. You pull away and look at her chest. “They’re perfect and so beautiful.” You tell her and you’re showering her with compliments and she’s not used to that. She wants to kiss you again but then you pull her up a bit then back down and wrap a nipple around your lips and you suck. Melissa puts both her hands on the arm of the couch to stabilise herself from the pleasure and she starts grinding her hips. You pull back and Melissa wants to pull your shirt up but forgets to pay attention to where she puts her knee and her legs slips and she falls off the couch.
“Woah!” She says and lands on her back. You turn to her and glance down.
“You alright?” You ask her and she nods with a pout. After you know she’s ok, you try really hard to suppress a giggle. But after she glances at you with an arched eyebrow after she sees you suppressing a laugh, you can’t help it and begin laughing. Melissa sits up and leans her forearms on the couch and sits on her knees.
“So me falling off the couch is funny to you? Hmm” she asks and you nod and giggle. Melissa’s response to that was to take off all your clothes and dive her mouth to your core and you gasp. She ends up putting her hands on your boobs and plays with them while sucking your clit. You end up bucking your hips too much that she has to pin you down instead and continues sucking your clit until you come. She stands up and sees your blissed out face and she takes her pants and underwear off. She then sits on your thigh and starts grinding on it. You end up grabbing her hips and help her but then when you’re fully recovered from your orgasm, you shift her off your thigh so her pussy is between your legs.
You stick a finger in her entrance and a thumb on her clit and you finger her and rub her clit at the same time and it doesn’t take long for her to come.
The two of you just stare at each other and smile and neither of you notice that the number on your wrist has vanished and there’s a full heart in its place.
“I love you Melissa.” You say while moving a piece of hair out of her face and you cup her cheek. She leans into your touch and hums.
“I love you too y/n.” She says softly and a soft smile on her face. Melissa is so happy at that moment, she had to wait 47 years but she thinks it was worth it if she gets to wake up next to you and love you for the rest of her life.
Taglist: @esposadejoyhuerta
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@sexysapphicshopowner
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banquetwriter · 3 days
Note
hellooo! can i request johnnie x reader, where his tweets are about a song but the fans think they broke up because y/n also had a suspicious tweet like him!! thank you i hope you have a wonderful day!
୨୧ Assumptions ୨୧
pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader
warnings: ୭̥⋆*。 short (I'm sorry) fluff tbh
summary: ʚ the fans get the wrong idea when you and Johnnie tweet lyrics of his new song ɞ
Words: 1299
An: this is short but honestly it's so sweet and I loved doing this!!
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You made sure to keep balance with the plate and cup in your hands as you approached your office room. You had finally convinced Johnnie to start editing in your office since he moved in. You both even set up a little recording spot for him complete with a spooky background.
You walked up to the door and knocked against it slightly using your foot. After a moment or two the door opened with a slightly worn-looking Johnnie. “Hey what's all this for?” he asked, opening the door for you. “Well you have been working so hard on your new song I thought I outta surprise you.”
You say with a big smile holding up his cup of tea and chips. “Eh, I'm really proud of this song. I just hope it, you know, does well,” he says with a short laugh at the end of his sentence. You smile while walking to the couch that is directly next to his editing chair.
The one you sat at and relaxed while he would stream. The whole world seemed so in love with you two dating. Everyone loved how well you two worked. And you loved it too. “I'm sure they will babe. I think you fucking killed it with this song,” you spoke moving your legs up to your chest and setting the food on the desk.
He smiles as you sit down in his chair and start to click around on his computer. You plucked a chip off of his plate scrolling around Twitter. “Hey, quit stealing my chips,” Johnnie said, staring at you accusingly.
You pause looking up at him, blinking slowly for a second. “When your dick gets bigger I will,” you said with a faux smile. He giggles at your comment, turning back to the computer, his fingers reaching for the coffee mug.
“Be careful, I think the tea is still pretty hot.” you half mumble the warning before putting the chip in your mouth. “I'll drink whatever the fuck I want bitch.” he says in a sassy, Timmy-esque voice. He takes a small sip of the tea before yanking the cup away from his mouth. “Fuck!” he shouts as the hot piqued burned his mouth.
You let out a loud laugh at his reaction, covering your mouth as you did so. “Aahh fuck you!” he yelps again searching for a drink of something colder. You snicker looking back down at your phone. Twitter was usually an awful place to be and it wasn't any different than this time.
You banned Johnnie from looking up his name on social media sites, and it wasn't good that you still did it but occasionally you liked to check in on fans and see what was popular amongst the fandom.
Most were hyping up the newest video you had posted this week and taking clips from it as reactions. Your fans were so funny, like genuinely. It blew you away that people found you so funny.
Of course, there were a select few that were not ideal. One about how You and Johnnie haven't posted in a while, and that you two must have broken up. They were not true by any means. With Johnnie's new song coming out soon it was easier for him to bulk-record videos so he had more time during the day to work on it.
Johnnie had finally calmed down from burning the shit out of his mouth. “How much of the new song have you teased?” you asked using your foot to spin his chair so he faced you. You continued to munch on a few chips, eating all the food you brought for your boyfriend.
“Honestly not much just that I have a new song coming out, not even a date or anything,” he said, grabbing a chip too. “Mmm we should start doing more to promote it, well sorry, you should do more this isn't my song,” you murmur using your ring finger to tap around your phone with your chip-dust-covered hands.
“Mmm, I feel like it's both of our songs in a way, I mean yeah I performed it and edited it but you helped me write it. You're also helping me by taking care of me.” he gestured to his tea as he took a sip.
You smiled at his words. It was nice when credit was given for things like this. This was Johnnie's song but you did help him with the lyrics. It was about the heartbreak of getting older, the lyrics sounding like you were talking to time.
The idea simmered down into a few words; it was like breaking up with time. The lyrics were akin to a breakup song. It was a cool idea and one you dealt with as you grew older. You even starred in the music video as the “time” character.
“What were we thinking of doing?” he murmured with his mouth full. “Maybe tweeting a few of your lyrics? Something you wouldn't normally rant about I guess,” you suggested dusting your fingers off.
“That could be cool, we should do it from the chorus or something,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Yeah for sure,” you mumbled absentmindedly, moving the chair with your foot still.
Over the next few days you both tweeted lyrics from the song. ‘I will forever mourn the loss of us’ and ‘You can't stay innocent to it forever’ got the most likes. Unfortunately, you two were now trending. “What the fuck are we going to do?” you asked looking at the #Johnnieandy/nbreakup tag.
“Just ignore them? The song comes out soon anyway,” he reassured you, his thumb rubbing the side of your thigh. Your legs rested on his lap as you cuddled up next to him.
You still didn't like the idea that everyone thought you two broke up. You can see how someone might think that from your guy’s tweets. And yes you shouldn't assume something about someone online but that just means your fans care about you. Doesn't it?
After a few days, you both released another video on each other's YouTube channels. The entire comments were filled with asking where the other person was. If you two had really broken up this would have been awful. Thank god you hadn't.
You both decided that you two should make at least one video addressing the rumors. On one of your tik toks someone had commented ‘Did you and Johnnie break up?’ so you replied to the comment with a video.
“Hey guys so a lot of people have been asking if me and my boyfriend Johnnie broke up, so today we are going to go ask him,” you said holding the phone up to your face as if introducing a vlog.
The next shot was of your feet walking up to Johnnie sitting on the couch. “Hey babe?” you asked, pointing the camera at him. “Yeah?” he answered back looking up at you. “Did we break up?” you ask as if it was a normal question.
“Umm last time I checked no,” he replied back trying to hold his smile back. “Oh ok, sweat just checking. Love you,” you said back moving the phone down as he broke his serious face and laughed with you.
You posted the tik tok captioned “addressing the rumors”
You cuddled up next to him and read the comments. Most of them were making fun of others for assuming things. The other half was just talking about how cute the two of you were together.
The following day the song and music video were posted and the feedback was worth it. You were so proud of Johnnie and all he had done but this song meant so much to both of you.
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auteurdelabre · 3 days
Text
A LITTLE SUN PART 7 (part I) Dieter Bravo x f!Reader
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rating: 18+
tags: SMUT. Penetration, Oral (m and f receiving), use of 'daddy' (but you ain't into it), use of 'baby', Dieter being Dieter, fluff, like such tooth-rotting sweetness its almost gross, idiots in love, pregnancy, talk of pregnancy body changes/self esteem, love love love, family issues, mentions of parental death.
a/n: Tumblr is dumb and won't let me post the entire chapter. ARGH. So below is part one.
series masterlist
You stir early the next morning, feeling strangely warm. You blink slowly awake, starting when you see realize you're not alone in the bed. Someone is behind you. 
You glance over your shoulder to see Dieter wearing his sleep mask over his eyes, one that says "#passedout”. Something he got in a gift back from some airline launch.  His arm is draped over your midsection, his gentle snores stirring the hair at your neck. He’s still partially dressed in his clothes.
A mixture of joy and confusion overruns your body. You feel your son flutter under Dieters’ palm splayed protectively over your midsection. 
"Dieter? Are you awake?" 
He doesn't reply right away and you don't press it. He must have gotten in pretty late judging by the state of him. Odds are he's exhausted and you want him to catch up on his rest. Something must have happened with Mia to have him jetting home all of a sudden.  
You consider slipping out of the bed, but the feeling of Dieter's body curled around yours makes you feel so cared for. His cologne and the scent of faded cigarettes surround you and while it should repulse you, there’s something about it that soothes you. You settle in, snuggling back against him and dozing lightly. 
Not long after Dieter begins to stir, his squinting eyes blurry and taking in your figure still in his embrace. 
"Morning baby," he murmurs, voice deep with sleep. Without thought he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. "Sleep okay?"
You stir groggily, stretching. You want to be gentle right back to him but you don't understand why he's home all of a sudden. You're worried something happened. 
"Dieter what are you doing here? What happened to Germany? Is Mia okay?"
"Mia's fine," he assures you. 
"Then why are you home?"
"I realized I didn’t really wanna go to Germany," Dieter says simply, as if the answer were obvious. "I’ve been travelling so much this year and I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. Funny to find you in it."
“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I was gonna change the sheets before you got back. Your bed is just so much comfier.”
“Don’t I know it,” Dieter grins. You go to get up, but still when his arm remains draped over your waist. “Relax. You can stay.”
“I shouldn’t,” you say quietly.
Mia.
“You should,” Dieter insists, “especially since I brought you back a gift.”
You twist up into a seated position in the bed, your hair wild and your eyes sleepy. Dieter thinks he can see your nipples through your sleep shirt and he does everything in his power not to touch them.
He pushes himself out of the bed, padding out to his suitcase and returning moments later. You take in his mussed hair and full mouth and try very hard not to imagine how both would feel under your fingertips.
"For your birthday," he tells you handing you the small box before crawling back under the covers, sitting next to you. He sees the goosebumps breaking out over your bare legs and he throws the comforter over you, pressing your sleep warmed body against his.
You’re still staring at the box.
"I got it before I left,” Dieter prompts, holding back a yawn. “It’s from Prague.”
“You didn’t have to get me anything.”
He gives you a look before rolling his eyes. “Just open it.”
You do, feeling your breath leave you when you see the simple but gorgeous tennis bracelet resting inside. Brilliant diamonds are encrusted over the intricate design, offset by a delicate lobster clasp.
"Jesus Dieter," you breathe holding the bracelet up to the light and watching it sparkle. "It's stunning."
"Least I could do for my baby mama," Dieter says, trying to hide the pleased grin from his face.
"This must have cost a fortune."
Dieter shrugs. He hates talking about money so you don't press it. You consider telling him you can’t accept it, but he looks so delighted with your awe that you can’t help but give a breathless giggle as you thrust it at him.
"Can you help me put it on?"
"Now?"
"Yeah now," you say holding you wrist out to him.
"This isn't the sort of thing you wear all the time," Dieter tells you as his wide fingers struggle with the delicate clasp.
"This is the nicest piece of jewelry I'll ever own," you state firmly. "I'm gonna wear it every fucking day, not hide it away in some box and only take it out on holidays. Beautiful things like this are meant to be enjoyed."
Dieter hums a response, fingers ghosting over your wrist as he secures the lobster clasp. His fingers linger on your wrist, tracing the soft skin there. He feels his chest grow warm when he sees the smile on your face as you twist your wrist to see the bracelet from all angles.
“Thank you so much," you say, smile so wide you feel like it'll split your face. "I love it."
“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, a hand coming to cup your cheek before he can stop himself. You lean into his touch, eyes unfocussed before you seem to snap back to yourself. You pull back, eyes on your lap.
“Wasn’t Mia upset you left?”
“At first,” Dieter shrugs, snatching his hand back. He tells you that he told Mia he had to do some last minute interview back here that he forgot about. That he would join her in a few days..
But that’s not the truth.
As soon as you hung up on him all Dieter could think of was that you were here alone on your birthday and he couldn’t get back here to you soon enough.
Mia had seen it so clearly in the anxious way he got his belongings together, the way he was already scrambling out of line and telling her he was leaving. Before he could kiss her cheek and slide by her, Mia had taken his hand in hers stopping him.
"Dee, this is ridiculous.”
"What?"
"You just got off the phone with your PA and you're beside yourself." 
"It's just the baby," Dieter lied. "I'm concerned."
Mia suddenly looked anxious. "Is she hurt? Is the baby hurt?"
"No not like that, it's just it's her birthday and I wrote the fucking date down wrong and it's her first birthday alone without her dad and I should be there you know? I just... She's pretending that she's fine but I can hear it in her voice. She's upset."
Mia had a strange look on her face as she watched her boyfriend card his hands anxiously through his tousled hair.
"That has nothing to do with the baby, Dee." 
Dieter flushed, wishing he had something to take the edge off. He looked at Mia with a wince, seeing the wisdom in her light eyes. 
"Dieter, it's so obvious you're in love with her."
Dieter swallowed and Mia watched as he absently picked at a loose thread on his sweater. His soulful eyes darted back to her face, emotional. 
"Mia, I wasn't lying about how I feel about you."
"I believe you," Mia nodded, giving him a sympathetic look. "Really, I do. But I'm no one's second choice.”
"You weren't a second choice," Dieter insisted honestly. "I really like you."
"Is that why we haven't slept together yet?"
Dieter couldn’t meet her eyes. "I didn't want to rush things like I usually do."
Mia gave him a stern look, her hand squeezing his. 
"Dee." 
How could he explain that it didn't feel right going to bed with Mia knowing that you were somewhere in the world without him? How could he explain to his girlfriend that being with her felt like cheating on you even though you’d made no attempt at reciprocating his romantic overtures?
"She doesn't feel the same as me," Dieter finally admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He felt pathetic saying it out loud. 
"Even if she doesn't Dieter, it doesn't stop how you feel about her." Mia swallowed. "Be honest, right now if you could be anywhere, where would it be? Here with me going on a romantic vacation? Or back in LA with her?"
Dieter couldn’t even blink before he was assaulted with the image of you snuggled up against him on the couch at home. Your head nestled against his chest, the sensation of your warm body pressing against his. 
Mia could already see that he was a million miles away as he considered this. The twitch in his hands as he reached for his phone told her everything she needed to know. Dieter finally focused back on Mia and his large eyes were glossy. 
"I need to go."
"I know."
Dieter paused, eyes going owlish in his face. "Do you hate me?"
"Not at all." Mia gave him a genuine smile. "You were a wonderful boyfriend in so many ways. You never pressured me to do anything, you were supportive, and you were caring. That's how I know you'll be a great dad."
Dieter felt tears prick the back of his eyes. He gathered her into a tight hug, his chin on her shoulder. Mia shot him one of her cryptic smiles before kissing his cheek gently.
“I had a really nice time with you, Dee. Hopefully we work together again soon. And if I can be honest, I think she’s awesome. And contrary to what she says, I think she’s the one that brings out the best in you.”
And then she was gone. Heading back into the line loading onto the plane as people shyly came up to ask for her autograph. The last thing Dieter remembers is the soft smile and wave she threw him before he was running out of the airport.
Home to you.
And now you’re here in his arms and he knows he made the right decision. Even if this is all it ever is; you in his orbit, nearby. You look at the bracelet a moment longer before your eyes are back on his face.
"Did you come back because of my birthday, Dieter?"
Dieter feels his heart begin to pick up the pace as he stares back at you.
"And what if I told you that I did?
You say nothing at first, but your eyes go soft.
“I would say I’m really touched,” you finally murmur. “And I would say that this is all I wanted for my birthday.”
“A bracelet?” Dieter jokes, even as his breath leaves him.
“No,” you say with an indulgent smile. “You here with me and Bubble.”
He fights every urge in his body to kiss you because that’s not what you need right now. Right now it’s a sentimental moment. You’re mourning your father, you’re feeling emotional and he doesn’t want to capitalize on that. He doesn’t want to turn your vulnerability into something about him and how he feels.
Instead he balances his forehead against yours, his large palm falling lightly over your stomach. Both of you have your eyes closed, but Dieter can imagine what a picture of domesticity this is. Both sets of eyes closed, foreheads touching, his hand on your belly. It makes his heart swell with a different kind of love.
“Happy birthday, baby.”
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When you finish showering and pulling on a summer dress that covers your bump you head into the kitchen, following the sound of buzzing and Dieter swearing. When you come around the corner you try not to laugh at the sight of him standing at the blender with blue lumps all over his clothing.
“Dieter what the fuck?”
"I wanted to make you a smoothie like Petra does but I've never done it by myself before and the stupid fucking thing exploded all over me."
Your hands go to his collar, swiping some of the yogurt and berry mixture from his cheek. You pop it into your mouth and hum appreciatively.
"Mmm blueberry, my favorite,” you grin before moving him out of the way with a gentle tap of your hip against his. He watches you place the blueberries and everything else into the blender. He feels like a moron when you affix the lid before starting to blend it properly. 
“So what do you feel like doing today birthday girl?”
“Dieter you’re here and you already got me the nicest gift,” you tell him over the hum of the blender. “I don’t need anything else.”
“Pffft,” Dieter rolls his eyes. “Birthday’s are a chance to get spoiled.”
“I’m already spoiled and my birthday was yesterday.”
“Don’t care.”
“I think you should give Magda and Petra the day off.”
“That’s not a gift for you.”
“They work hard to keep this place up, Dieter. And now they have to take me into account.”
“Fine fine. They can have the day off with pay. Now either you think of something you want or I’m gonna decide for you and it’ll be something fucking insane.”
You gurgle a laugh, pouring your drink into the waiting cup. You take a deep pull, blue coating your upper lip as you look thoughtfully off into the distance.
“Okay. I know what I want.”
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Two hours later the two of you are walking into the oldest cinema in LA. He’s wearing sunglasses and an old baseball hat. You’re wearing a beanie and oversized glasses as well.  He fights every impulse to take your hand in his, deciding he is content just with the sight of your bracelet dangling off your wrist. It glints in the sunlight along with the ring from Ireland you’ve never taken off.
Dieter loves seeing you in the bracelet. Loves seeing the jewelry be bought you wrapped around your wrist and digit. Loves that pieces of him touch your skin every day.  "Two for braune Augen please," you tell the bored looking girl behind the counter. She doesn't even look up from the till just rings you up and hands you two tickets.   “I didn’t even know this place was still around,” Dieter marvels as you enter the lobby. 
“Little known gem,” you tell him. The two of you line up for popcorn. The smell of the theater takes Dieter back to when he was a child, going to the movies with his mother.
Dieter buys the popcorn and red vines at your prompting, trying his hand at an Irish accent again to throw off the boy working the concession stand looking at him curiously. Thankfully this hole in the wall theatre is ancient with soiled red carpets and old seats that creak when they lower themselves into the near empty theatre.
"This stuff is terrible for you," he chides as you find your seats and throw a handful of popcorn back munching happily. 
"Talk to me when you stop smoking."
Dieter doesn't say anything after that. 
The house lights dim and the movie begins. Dramatic strings sound out as a bleak image of a man standing in a field with a gun is shown. He starts talking to the camera in German, the subtitles telling the bizarre story of a toy maker. 
You make it maybe twelve minutes into the film before you're passed out against his shoulder, breathing softly. 
"I didn't know you liked German surrealist films," Dieter murmurs.
When you don't answer he looks over at you, seeing your sleepy face. 
"Sleepy girl," Dieter murmurs with affection.
He thinks about rousing you but finds he enjoys the sensation of you leaned up against him in the darkness. It's like a date. 
You wake up around the midway mark of the film with a start. When Dieter grins over at you, you pretend like you’ve been awake the whole time.
“Woah the filming is so good,” you say holding in a yawn. Dieter’s lips twitch in amusement.
“Mhm.”
You plop back onto his shoulder and he holds in a chuckle when your snores kick up again.
The movie is good, but your presence distracts him. Why did you want to come here? He's never known you as an art house film fan. He watches a moment longer before it suddenly hits him. He realizes now why you’re here in this little theatre in the middle of the day.
Because he told you he misses it. That his mother used to take him and that it reminds him of her.
You did this for him. It’s your birthday and you did something for Dieter.  He takes your limp hand in his, lacing your fingers with his own before resting both on his knee. You continue to sleep on beside him. 
Finally the movie ends and the soundtrack is all high pitched strings which bring you out of your nap. You raise your head, thankful you didn’t drool.
 “That was good,” you tell him with a sleepy purr to your voice. “Better than I thought it’d be.”
Dieter is looking at you from the corner of his eyes, his head bowed. The house lights have come up and the few patrons that remain have left. The cinema is empty and Dieter can’t find it in himself to move.
“You brought me here because I said ages ago that I missed going to the movies. And because it reminds me of my mom.”
You shrug, caught. Your cheeks pink as he continues to stare at you, not speaking.
 “You’ve done so much for me,” you tell him before the moment can grow too heavy. “I just wanted to do the same. Now let’s go, I gotta pee.”
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Petra is one of the most patient people you know. She'd have to be working for Dieter. From the moment you move in she's over the moon, offering baby name suggestions and telling you that she'll make anything you want from scratch pushing her shock of red hair from her ruddy face. 
It doesn't matter if it's ice-cream with pickles over lemon flavored crackers, she'll make it delicious and she'll make it from scratch before serving it to you with a very proud expression. 
Magda is a scream. She's been working for Dieter as his cleaner since before her hair was a solid white mass of frizzy curls. She spends most of her time smoking European cigarettes and doing sporadic dusting in between stories about her latest Tindr date. 
The two women like to take their breaks together, both chain-smoking outside by the pool while they complain about real estate prices. 
You love them both immensely.  
You've known them since you started working for Dieter, but you've never really interacted. You were always so busy with you job and they with theirs. 
But now that you're stuck indoors most days they've become a lifeline to you. Perhaps mother figures as well since you haven't spoken to yours since you moved out. 
You think about calling her every once in a while. When the baby moves or your muscles ache. But you don't. You can't be the one to give in first because what she said about everything was hideous. 
Besides, Magda and Petra love being mother hens. Petra likes to knit in her spare time and almost every week when she sees you there are little baby booties or jumpers waiting to be hung in the nursery wardrobe. 
Magda massages your shoulders even when you tell her she doesn't need to. She just waves your anxious hands away and tells you in a heavy accent: "I do same for my daughter when she is pregnant."
You adore them both so much that when they aren't around in the house you try to make your own smoothies, washing your dishes and chastising Dieter if his clothes don't make it in the hamper. 
And he fucking loves it. 
He loves having you there tutting behind him, reminding him to wipe toothpaste off the mirror and to sweep his toast crumbs off the counter so he doesn't add to Magda and Petra's labor. 
He loves that you care enough about everyone for it to matter. That you fit into his home like you've always been there. 
Sometimes it drives him crazy when you're there at his elbow complaining that his laundry hamper is overflowing or some other trivial matter. But for the most part he secretly loves having this domesticity with you. That he craves you in a totally new way when you scrub at a stain in his shirt so Magda doesn't have to. 
None of his other partners were like this. All were eager to be waited upon, many not even bothering to learn the names of his staff.  
"You should give them a raise," you tell him one day over dinner when it's just the two of you digging into the veggie pasta Petra prepared. "Neither of them have had one in a few years." 
Dieter slurps up pasta, nodding in agreement. 
"Okay."
"Okay?" You look at him, brows raised. "Just like that?"
He has pasta sauce on his cheek when he answers. 
"You want me to fight you on it?"
"Not particularly."
"Good," Dieter nods, scooping up the last of the sauce with his garlic bread before popping it into his mouth. "I trust you. I know you'd spend our money wisely.'
And then he gets up from the table with his plate cleared as if he hasn't said something completely momentous.
You watch him rinse it under the tap and place it in the dishwasher before announcing that he's going to paint for a few hours.  
You remain sitting at the table staring after him for several minutes. Our money. Ours. As if you were a real couple. As if you were his wife. 
I trust you. I trust you. I trust you. 
Later that night in your guest bedroom you bring yourself off twice to thoughts of him. You can't explain why tears stream down your face as you do. 
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When he’s not in interviews, filming commercials or prepping for his next film project with his acting coach, Dieter spends some of his free time in the art studio. He's very insistent you not go in there, especially when he’s working, citing that you'll break his concentration and creative flow. 
You respect his space and carve out your own routine within his sprawling home. Walks in the neighborhood, swims in the pool, reading by the fire and evenings spent with Dieter on the couch watching bad reality TV or documentaries.
You also like to spend some of your free time working on the nursery. Sometimes he offers his own suggestions, but he sees how much you enjoy this little project and he tries to give you as much space as possible. 
When it's finally finished you show him proudly pushing. Open the door much like he did for you only a month earlier. He walks in, expecting to hate it, but instead is overwhelmed at the cozy atmosphere you've curated. 
The carpet is a plush white and blue pattern that feels like butter on his bare feet. The walls are a warm cream and the ceiling has been painted to look like a celestial morning sky. Oversized tufted chairs are at the side under a gauzy curtain that makes the whole space feel safe and cozy. The crib is a beautiful white, beautifully carved with small triangles etched in the design.
“To match your tattoos,” you tell him with a grin.
It’s nothing like Dieter thought he’d want, but the second he walks in he’s overwhelmed by a sense of peace and tranquility. The exact environment he’d want his son growing up in. He thinks he might just want to hang out in here to meditate.
"It's beautiful," he says in awe. "He'll be so happy here."
"Yeah, he will," you say with a gentle smile. 
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Weeks later you and Dieter lay on his bed, both of you enthralled by the Netflix show projected on his large TV. In recent weeks you've taken to doing this. Dieter returning from work late and finding you on the couch.  At first he would fall down next to you, talking about that you were watching.
Then he began to suggest watching in his room on his bed. Nothing funny, he claimed, he'd suggested it just because it felt better on his back. He gave you plenty of space, both of you leaning back against the plush pillows.
Then you started crawling under the sheets because you were cold. And then he was cold. Then he decided that snuggling under the sheets was better. You'd wanted to deny him at first, but he's always so warm and he fit so nicely against you that when he pulled you against him you simply snuggled up against him.
Now he comes home and just holds out his hand for you, waiting for you to nod and then helping you to stand. And every day he kneels in front of you and kisses your belly just above the navel. Then he takes your hand in his and guides you to his room before collapsing next to you in his huge bed.
You've burned through all the seasons of Below Deck. Now it's Selling Sunset.
"Without Christine what's the point?" He grumbles.
"Totally," you agree through a mouthful of ice cream. "And there are never enough of the houses!"
Sometimes when the TV goes off you're already asleep snoring softly. On those nights Dieter watches you, hand grazing your cheek. Sometimes he just wants to hold your belly and fall asleep curled around you.
Sometimes if you're both still awake he asks you to run your nails through his hair and you do, giving the odd little tug and smiling when he gives muffled groans. You do it now, eyes on the screen and your hand carding through his curls.
A commercial comes up on the screen and Dieter groans, throwing a pillow at it.
“Boo! Get this asshole off my TV!”
It’s a teaser trailer for the movie he and Mia filmed together; The Rogue Duchess. Dieter in his regency gear, Mia with her fluttering eyelashes.
 “Haven’t heard you mention Mia much lately,” you observe as you watch her pretty face on screen.
“We’re cooling things off,” Dieter lies, his eyes on the television. “
 “Really?” you try not to sound too pleased by the news. “I’m sorry Dieter I know how much you like her.”
“S’fine,” he shrugs, not looking the least bit upset.
You do your best to hide your delight.
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Halloween is just around the corner and Dieter swans into the house after his latest meeting with Diane. He looks run ragged. You wish you could have been there to see what she said, but of course you’re kept in the dark. The only thing Diane sends to you are bi-monthly checks. 
“She thinks now that Mia and I are officially over that I have to rehabilitate my entire image,” Dieter groans as he throws himself onto the couch next to you. “I need to start a charity and some other shit.”
“Is that really such a bad idea?” you muse looking up from your crossword puzzle. “Starting a charity could be a wonderful thing.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he gripes, slapping the pillow next to him aimlessly.
“You could fund amazing research,” you tell him, shaking your head at him overlooking this. “If I had your money I’d be setting up research into the cancer my dad died of. It’s way underfunded.”
Dieter says nothing, but he nods. You don’t know that he’s actually listening to you. You go back to your crossword puzzle.
“I gotta practice some lines,” Dieter sighs as if he has the worst job in the world. “You wanna help me with them?”
“Of course. Gotta earn my keep around here somewhere.”
“No you don’t,” Dieter says, pouting over at you. “You’re only job is to relax and make our baby.”
Our baby. You hate the tingle that goes through you at the words. Especially when it isn’t your baby at all. You’re a womb rental, that’s it.  You go quiet for a moment and Dieter looks momentarily down at his hands.
“Have you called your Mom lately?”
“No,” you frown. “Why?”
“I just know you miss her.”
"Yeah I guess," you whisper in a croaky voice. "Every fall we'd go to this Boo at the Zoo thing."
"Boo at the zoo?"
"Yeah in Oakland. You dress up and there's contests and you can see the animals and... My mom and I just liked going to see all the costumes and..." You trail off, overwhelmed by the memory. 
"We can go," Dieter insists, already bringing out his phone. "I'll get tickets-"
He pauses when he sees the cringing expression you wear. Realization hits him and he lowers his phone. 
"It's a you and your mom thing."
"Yeah." Your head drops forward when you nod. 
Dieter wants to give you everything. Wants to take away this pain. Wants to erase the lines between your eyebrows as you swallow your tears. But he can't do anything right now aside from supporting you. 
"How about we watch a scary movie?" Dieter suggests. "Make popcorn and all that shit?"
You give him a watery grin. "Yeah that sounds great."
Not even an hour later the popcorn rests half-eaten on the coffee table and you sit with your head on a decorative pillow in Dieters lap, half asleep. Dieters hand runs up and down your spine subconsciously as he loses himself in the film. 
"Dieter do you really think Rosemary's Baby was the best film to watch?"
"I heard good things." 
Your eyes keep drifting shut. Dieters couch is so comfortable and the feel of his fingertips running along your spine is so relaxing. 
"I can't believe how hard it is to stay awake," you murmur. "It's not even ten."
You shift your head on his lap, murmuring slightly when his fingers move to card through the hair at your temples. 
"Mmm, feels good."  
Dieter gazes down at you, thumb drifting over your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear as he watches your eyelids flutter closed. Your light snores begin and he wants the moment to go on forever. 
I love you. 
The thought has been brewing in his mind for months. This unspeakable but oh so palpable feeling he carries with him. The one he swallows every time you smile at him over breakfast or snuggle up to him at night.
The movie ends a short while later. You're zonked out, snoring louder. Dieter bends over to kiss your temple. 
"Time for bed, baby."
"M'fine," you argue with a yawn. "I'll just sleep here."
He smiles as you groan when he slides out from underneath you, pulling you gently by the wrists to a standing position. 
"C'mon baby mama, we're going to bed."
You make a face, grunting in irritation. He wraps his arm around your back, helping you sleepily walk to the bedroom; his bedroom. Your eyes are still closed even as he pulls back the duvet and you snuggle underneath. 
He crawls in bedside you, watching as you slowly spin to face him, your hand going to your belly. 
"Thanks for the movie," you mutter. "S’good."
"Any time," he promises, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone.
You smile at the rasp of his beard against your face. He pulls back, head on his pillow just watching you. 
“Baby?”
Your eyes flutter open, pupils blowing wide when you see how near he is. “Yeah?”
He blinks rapidly, his eyes darting to your mouth and then back to your sleepy gaze. He moves forward slowly, inching there and waiting for you to pull back. You don’t. Instead your head tilts forward at the same time, your mouths meeting for a sweet and tentative kiss that has both your pulses skyrocketing.
His nose drags against yours as you break apart, nudging your face to the side and allowing him access to press sloppy kisses up the column of your neck. He nibbles and tastes along your pulse point as you whimper until his mouth captures yours in a searing kiss, the petal soft of his lower lip slotted beneath yours. You respond in kind, hand fisting his t-shirt, mouth taking everything that he’ll give you.
“So sweet,” he whispers, kissing you again, pushing your body into the mattress.
“Shouldn’t,” you murmur uselessly, even as you drag your tongue along his lower lip, wetting it.
"Please, baby," he groans against your lips, hands sliding up the bottom of your t-shirt to cup your heavy breasts. "Wanna make you feel good."
His hands move over the globes of your chest, his cock twitching as you moan at the sensation. He breaks away from your mouth only so that he can tilt back and marvel at how big your tits have gotten. You wear such oversized clothing he can rarely tell. But tonight they swell in his hands, heavy and full and fucking perfect. He slides your t-shirt up, seeing your breasts exposed for the first time. The sight is enough to make his knees buckle. 
"Fuck," Dieter groans, extending the u. "You look so good."
He pushes your t-shirt up higher, wanting to look at your chest more in the semi darkness. You allow it, raising your hands above your head, allowing him to peel the shirt from your body. You watch as he drinks in your naked upper half, dark eyes round and awed. 
He looks at the full of your breasts, the sensuous curves of your body, the swell of your abdomen. 
Mine. 
The thought is fleeting, way in the back of his caveman mind. That your body is his, full of his child. That his body is yours, meant to protect you. But it drives him forward, bracketing your torso with his forearms. He has to arch slightly, afraid of putting too much pressure on your stomach.
"I need to taste."
You let out a piercing gasp when his mouth latches to your left nipple, sucking it into his scorching mouth and flicking the nipple with his tongue. His hand worries your other nipple into a point, sending sweet jolts of pleasure through your core. 
"Fuck, yes Dieter!"
You can't even fight it. You don't want to. You just lay back, allowing his lips to trail between the valley of your breasts before he's doing the same with your other nipple, moaning deliciously when you're hands card through his hair, holding him in place. 
"Suck harder," you beg, feeling your hips starting to grind against his front. "Please!"
Dieter moans in response, his hips gyrating against yours as he obeys your husky order. You feel your nipples being alternatively sucked hard, liquid heat pooling between your legs. 
"Fuck... Fuck Dieter that's so good," you whimper, eyes slammed shut. "Don't stop!"
You feel him grinding his hard cock between your legs, the two of you fully dressed and yet writhing as if you were naked. All that's exposed is your tits, chilled when not covered by Dieter's needy mouth. 
But it's the sound he's making that has goose bumps breaking out over your body. This low, needy hum of carnal satisfaction that makes your toes curl and your legs quiver. Your thighs tighten around his hips, your clothed pussy desperate for the friction of his cock through his sweatpants. 
Fuck, you're going to come. 
The realization hits you just as your back begins arching up beautifully for him. And he must know because his fingers and mouth are still sucking and flicking at the same tempo. 
"Yeah baby," he groans between sucks, thrusting his hips against yours. "You come for me just like that."
An orgasm suddenly overtakes you, causing you to rut against him, crying his name as you come. It makes tears spring to your eyes as your body twitches, jerking from the almost painful pleasure that releases as you let out his name in a cracked whimper.
He kisses you, tasting the sound of his name on your lips as you rut against him, hands grabbing his shoulders for purchase. A moment passes where all you can hear is your own panting breaths. Dieter watches you lean lightly up on your elbows. 
"Did you-"
"-Yes."
"Just from-"
"-Yeah."
You feel strangely embarrassed at this truncated exchange. You've never come just from some guy playing with your tits before. It makes you feel over eager and insecure, cheeks flaming and eyes going around the room. But Dieter's eager voice cuts through your discomfort, his large palms cupping your breasts again. 
"Fuck, that was so hot, can we do it again?" 
Your gaze flicks back to Dieter. He's excited, grinning crookedly as he continues to knead your breasts lazily. 
"You think I could make you come even faster this time doing it?"
Insecurities fall from your shoulders like an unwanted jacket. You beam, laying back and sighing dreamily up at him. 
"Let's find out."
You wish you could say that your sexual excitement for Dieter waned after that, but if anything it just stoked the fires. With Mia out of the picture and Dieter looking at you with those sultry gazes it’s not long before you’re dreaming up more excuses to touch him.
A graze of your hand over his when he hands you a fork at dinner. Snuggling up a little tighter to him during movie nights. But he’s gotten busy so he’s more tired than usual. Reshoots are necessary for the film and he has a commercial shoot as well. He comes home late, tired and wanting nothing more than a shower and a sleep.
You still join him in his bed but it’s only so he can hold you tight, breathing in your shampoo as he drifts off. And honestly that’s fine with you because you’re coming to count on his warm arms around you, coming to rely on the way he calls you baby and runs his fingers down your spine.  
You love it.
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“I’m so done with this fucking costume,” Dieter seethes, tossing off the cloak as he walks into the house one evening. You glance up from your newspaper, about to say something when you feel yourself transfixed.
He’s wearing the regency outfit from the movie. He’s angry though, not even noticing as your breathing grows shallow and your cheeks get hot.
 “Didn’t even give me a chance to change before they’re striking the set. I had to get a car home looking like a fucking butler.”
He growls, looking up at you seated at the bar. Your drink from this afternoon remains untouched at your elbow and he feels irritation flare within him.
“You didn’t even drink the smoothie Petra made you,” he grunts, irritable. “You’re supposed to. It’s got all your nutrients.”
He tugs at the cravat around his neck in frustration at the world but you croak out his name, hand raised.
“No! Leave it.”
“Leave it?” Dieter says with a sharp laugh. “No fucking way. It’s-“
He’s about to say something more but you’ve come sauntering over to him, chest flushed and your eyes glassy. You gently press his back against the wall.
“Hand.”
He holds out his hand in confusion and watches you in awe as you take it, letting him help you to your knees on the cold, marble floor. And suddenly Dieter has an idea of what you’re doing, but he’s not quite sure.
When your hands gently rub up his thighs and come to stop at the waistband of his ornate pants you see the bulge of his hardening cock and you smile in satisfaction. 
"What’re you-“
"Let me," you murmur, eyes gazing up to his face. "Please?"
"You're asking me if you can suck my cock?" Dieter says it in breathless awe. "Are you serious?"
You are. You find you're so eager to give him the pleasure he so easily offers to you anytime you want it, especially when he’s dressed like something out of a Jane Austen novel.  Your very own rumpled Mister Darcy.
"Jesus," Dieter whimpers, watching you on your knees for him. In a million years he never thought he'd see this. You sitting there with your mouth parted, asking to suck him off. He goes to shrug off the jacket and tug off the cravat but your hand goes to still him. 
"No," you say gazing up the length of him. "Keep it all on. Please."
Dieter breaks into an oily grin as he realizes the reason for your sudden ardor. His mind travels back to that day on set.
I saw how you were looking at me earlier. This costume do it for you, baby mama? Should I bring it back with me later?
He widens his stance, unfastening his trousers and lowering them. You watch in anticipation as his cock is freed and you hold in a sigh at the sight of it. Large, thick and practically throbbing for you. It twitches when you drag your tongue along the slit.
"Spit," Dieter says huskily.
For some reason you’re taken back to the awards show where he spat his gum into the napkin. You could laugh at the role reversal. 
"C'mon baby," Dieter says gently when you hesitate. "Spit on my cock."
You don't know why but those words in his rasping baritone sends a new flood of arousal coursing through you. You tilt your head, mouth pursed. Dieter watches as your saliva drops onto the head of his cock. 
"Fuck yeah," Dieter growls, his hand coating himself in his pre come and your spit. "Wanna make sure it's nice and slick for you."
You moan, eyelids fluttering at the words. And without pausing you take the head into your mouth, never breaking the eye contact you hold with him. He gives a soft whimper in his throat at the sight of his glossy cock sliding into your mouth and throat.
“So good,” Dieter gasps, his hands on either side of him against the wall.
You grin around his cock, hollowing your cheeks and are rewarded with Dieter’s legs going rubbery. Something is missing though to make this fantasy perfect for you. You pull off of him, your hand going to stroke him as you speak.
“Say your lines.”
“Huh?”
“Say the lines,” you order breathlessly, giving little kitten licks to the head of his weeping cock. “The ones from the movie.”
Dieter looks fucked out as he gazes down at you.
“Why are you here?” you prompt before urging his cock back onto your tongue.
Dieter takes a moment but then he understands, grinning widely. You watch as before your eyes he transforms from Dieter into the rogue.
“You know why,” Dieter pants, thrust shallowly into your mouth.
He grins broadly when he sees your eyelids fluttering. You’re turned on out of your mind, looking up at his handsome face in his white lawnshirt and cravat. He’s so sexy, his hand coming to cup your cheek as you swallow his cock.
“I need you,” Dieter growls, eyes fixed on yours. “So much I can barely breathe.”
His thrusting is increasing, watching as you begin to squirm on the floor. You’re getting off to this and Dieter finds himself inching towards his orgasm at an alarming speed. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you continue to suck him.
“You see what you do to me?”
Your panties are soaked and your head is bobbing along his length for what feels like a very brief time before he’s spilling down your throat, murmuring to himself how good you are for him, how sweet your mouth is.
He’s trembling, his cock twitching a moment as your eyes crack open to glance up the length of him. He’s staring down at you in what seems like awe. He pulls himself from your mouth, letting his cock hang heavily between his legs, slick with your saliva.
"Fuck that was hot," he tells you, pressing a full-lipped kiss to your mouth when he pulls you to a stand. "Your tongue is better than any drug."
You want to laugh at his version of sincerity but instead you just giggle, shaking your head. He grins and kisses you again before his voice turns stern.
"Now are you gonna drink your smoothie?"
Now you do laugh, a loud roaring thing that has Dieter smiling in confusion at you. 
"Are you really standing there trying to be authoritative with your pants around your ankles and dick hanging out, Bravo?"
Dieter gives a barking laugh at that before he tucks himself back into his boxer briefs and pulls up his crushed velvet pants. 
"Now that I know you prefer sausage in your mouth I'll remember that for your future meals." 
He's giggling and out of the kitchen before you can properly admonish him.
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[Personal Diary D. Bravo – 32 weeks]
Her smile
Her hair
The way she smiles when she reads
When she taps her pencil when she does crosswords
Her mouth. Her fucking mouth.
When her brow scrunches just as she’s about to come.
How smart she is.
How kind she is. Such a big heart.
Mom would have loved her too.
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“Jenga?”
You cry out with a laugh as Dieter brings the box over to the coffee table one rainy afternoon.
“You said you wanted to play a game, so I thought this would be a good one,” Dieter explains.
Magda and Petra are chatting in the kitchen over a cup of coffee that Dieter ordered in. Some fancy place with a fancy name you’ve never even heard of.  He calls them over, insisting that they join in the game.
With an employer like Dieter Bravo they’re never really sure what awaits them at work, but Jenga surely wasn’t it. They grin widely, both older women seated across from you and Dieter.
“Alright you played before?”
“Of course,” the women answer in unison, watching as Dieter puts the rectangular pieces of wood atop one another, creating a tower three by three. You watch with interest, trying to figure out your first move.
“So the first person to knock over the Jenga tower loses,” Dieter says despite everyone already knowing the game. “And the first person that loses needs to make dinner.”
“I always make dinner,” Petra says with a pout.
“Oh, right,” Dieter says scratching his beard thoughtfully. “Okay… first person out has to… go run in the rain for two minutes?”
“And I will have to mop up?” Magda says flatly. You know she’s irritable because she hasn’t had her customary cigarette thanks to the rain.
“Oh shit,” Dieter nods, looking thoughtful.
“How about we just play?” You say rolling your eyes. “Winners get bragging rights.”
It turns out Petra and Magda are very competitive players. They don’t smile or chat between rounds, they just focus on the bleached wood rectangles before them. You and Dieter exchange looks of amusement when they swear in another language under their breath.
“There,” Petra says, breathing a sigh of relief when she manages to pull a wood piece without sending the tower flying. She glances up at you. “Your turn.”
You nod, taking a deep breath and smiling nervously. Dieter brings up his phone surrepticoously recording you. You’re all focus, your eyes narrowed as you pull the center piece slowly with your pinched fingers.
Dieter forgets that the sound is on with his phone and when he snaps a photo it makes an obnoxious clicking noise, distracting you into knocking the entire tower down. Dieter takes a series of snapshots despite this, chuckling at your horrified and then amused expression.
“Guess I lose,” you say with a giggle, pushing at the wood blocks.
 “Such a good sport,” Petra says with affection. 
“Especially since Dieter is cheat,” Magda offers. Dieter fakes being horrified as the group of you laugh. You start to put the pieces away, gently batting Magda’s hand away when she tries to help you.
“You do enough around here,” you tell her firmly. “Let me clean up.”
“Your mother raised you well,” Magda says, giving the crown of your head a kiss before she and Petra move back into the kitchen.
“Thanks Mags,” you say gently, not wanting to ruin the moment.
But all it does is remind you of your own mother who isn’t here, the mother who disowned you. The mother who hasn’t attempted to call you once since this whole ordeal. 
Dieter watches all of this, his dark eyes calculating.
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32 weeks
Craving
sexsexsex
Anything Taco Bell has on their menu
Missing
My mom
Baby is size of napa cabbage.
 [11:03am] MOM: I told you I have no interest in your money. 
The text comes through when you’re lounging in bed one morning, feeling tired from your third trimester hormones and the vomiting you thought you’d left behind in the first trimester.
You slowly sit up in bed looking at your phone in confusion. You re-read the message trying to understand what she’s talking about.
[11:22am] ????
[11:23am] I got a call from the bank not long ago. My mortgage has magically been paid off? 
You pull on a robe, your eyes widening. You’re confused and you need to speak with Dieter. You search the entire house, calling out for him.
Magda and Petra are nowhere to be found at the moment and so you continue to scream out for him, texting his phone only to see that he’s left it behind on the kitchen counter.
Dieter is gone.
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PART 2 OF THIS CHAPTER HERE
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dividers by @silkholland
96 notes · View notes
hippiepowrs · 3 days
Text
you really got me
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rockstar!eddie munson x rockstar!reader
warnings: gn!reader, fluffy fluff, gareth and jeff being little shits, grumpy eddie
a/n: heres a silly little blurb. i like rockstar!reader and i hope some other people are into it too... bc if so i will post more :3
wc: 655
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A comforting warmth envelops you from behind, Eddie’s space heater of a body holding onto you tight. The two of you have been on tour together for the past few months, double headlining heavy metal shows all across the country. As fun as sex, drugs, and rock and roll for a living is, it does get tiring at times.
Eddie’s changing room backstage is quiet and still, the only people inside being you and him. It’s a rare sight, as he’s usually the one to be inviting everyone inside to smoke a joint or have a beer with him. The two of you lay on the couch, simply enjoying the calm before the storm.
Your peace and serenity quickly gets interrupted with a loud knock on the door, followed by Gareth and Jeff simply barging into the room, hefty camcorder in hand.
“…Let’s see what Eddie’s up to…Oh! Here are these two lovebirds. They make me sick.” Gareth narrates, pointing the camera directly at you.
Your eyes slowly open, drowsily looking over to the source of the noise. The boys continue to walk closer, fully putting the camera up in your face, causing you to block it with your hand.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Gare,” your hoarse ‘morning’ voice squeaks out, “What the hell is this for?”
“We’re making a tour video. Tom said the fans would like it.” The mention of Corroded Coffin’s manager clicks everything into place. Of course he’d want them to record behind the scenes footage of the tour.
Eddie, the rock of a sleeper that he is, is still fully conked out behind you, his arms trapping you onto the couch.
“I look like shit right now,” you mumble, “can you get that thing out of my fucking face?” Any perceived aggression is recognized as playful between you and the other band’s members, but you do seriously want him to get that damn camera out of your face. Looking down, you remember you’re only wearing one of Eddie’s muscle tees, specifically the Judas Priest one he cut a little shorter than he intended a few years ago.
The show isn’t supposed to start for another few hours, as the bus somehow had no mishaps and got you guys to the venue earlier than normal. Gareth has decided to record whatever the hell he feels like in this time, so now he’s walking around Eddie’s dressing room and pointing out all the gross shit on the floor.
Finally, Eddie starts to stir, nuzzling his nose into the back of your neck. A few soft groans sound from behind you, and this quickly alerts Gareth.
“There he is! Thought you were dead there for a second.”
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Eddie murmurs, rubbing the sleepiness out of his eyes.
“Makin’ a video.” Gareth turns the camera around to his own face and gives it a big thumbs up.
“Do that shit later, man. Jesus Christ.”
“Someone’s got their panties in a twist.” Gareth giggles, panning the camera over to Jeff, who starts to laugh along with him.
“Get out of my damn room.” Eddie even sits up halfway to send the message, taking an arm off of your waist to point them to the door. Gareth recognizes that Eddie doesn’t want to fuck around right now, so he quickly scurries out with Jeff in tow to find another person to bother.
Turning over to face him, you giggle softly at his moodiness. “He wasn’t wrong. You are pretty grumpy.”
“Can a man not be allowed to cuddle with his partner in peace?” He groans, flopping back down onto the couch and brushing a few strands of hair behind your ear.
“You look like a mess, you know.”
“Shut up. Cuddle me.”
You oblige, wrapping your arms around him. His messy mop of curls falls over your head, his serious case of bedhead being the last thing he’s thinking about.
116 notes · View notes
synthetickitsune · 2 days
Note
omg i woke up and saw your post about requests and came running!! you alr know i need all the angst in my life so can i please req dk + come back to me if he hurts you” 🥺🫶🏻
thx for helping me realize i write mostly angst for sunshine boy and continuing the tradition 🫶🏻 akjddsk
DK (SVT) | “Come back to me if he hurts you.” angst | 0.7k | gn!reader
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He stares at you, processing. It feels - well, there’s no way to put how it feels. His chest is hollow. He has no parallel to draw, so he just… stares.
The information shouldn’t come as a surprise. He’s heard through the grapevine that you began dating again. Honestly, should he even care? He does. But should he? Does he have any right to care? The split was amicable, mutual. Friendly even. You’re friends still. You seem happy. He’s genuinely happy that you are happy, so why…
“Seok? Are you alright?” your panicked voice and slowly approaching hand make him wake up and flinch away. He feels his face soften from whatever grimace he was making upon seeing your hurt expression.
“Sorry, yeah,” he clears his throat, “I’m alright. Uh, so things are good, yeah?”
He tries hard to ignore your face morphing into a mask of indifference.
“Yeah, things are good,” you repeat.
The silence that follows is awkward and stretches on. He wants to break it but he has no idea how.
“This was a mistake, wasn’t it?” you laugh, but it sounds empty as you hide your face in your hands, “I don’t know why I told you.”
“Hey,” he protests way too quickly and his hand immediately shoots to your shoulder, and he pulls it back just as quickly. You turn towards him and frown. It’s unusual to see him so serious. “I want you to tell me. You’re my friend.”
Your smile is sad. He hates it.
“We’re more than that, Min,” you sigh. It’s quiet again and he’s just as helpless.
“I guess I want to tell you everything - would that be cruel?” you meet his eyes again, but all he sees is the anxious way you fidget with a loose thread on your pants, “I guess I just want to know if you think we’ll work out. You’re the one who’d be the best judge of that.”
“I’m the worst one to be the judge of that,” he corrects you, his voice slipping into his comedic persona easily, “Seeing how things turned out.”
You do laugh and some of the unpleasant feelings lift off his shoulders. He doesn’t know what would be the best or most appropriate thing to say next. He’s not sure how he’s supposed to feel. All he knows is he has to start talking or this will be very pathetic very soon.
“I’m really happy for you, sorry,” he smiles, blinking away some of the moisture in his eyes, “I don’t know why this-” he motions vaguely to his face, “Happened.”
You chuckle, but looking at you, your eyes are wet too. 
“I get it,” you nod, “I’m so scared it’ll end wrong again.”
He sighs. As if he didn’t know the feeling intimately well. 
“Did-” he stops himself before he can finish, thinking better of it, but you push for it anyway. “Did I do something? Something so bad it makes you afraid now?”
“Oh god, Min, no,” you rush to reassure him and end up grabbing his hand in both of yours. You bite your lit. This isn’t exactly how you expected the talk to go. “If anything you loved me too well. So I’m afraid I won’t feel love like that again. Or that I’ll fuck up and lose it.”
“You couldn’t ever fuck up like that,” he laughs - the idea alone is so ridiculous, “Because you’re the kind of person nobody would want to lose.”
You shake your head, leaning into him with a laugh. He’s warm against your side. It feels comfortable. Comfortable like it used to feel even before you dated, like it did when you were together too. You missed being this comfortable with Seokmin after the breakup. 
Things change, but maybe they don’t need to be all that different. You have too much history to let go. And all of it is good - as much as humanly possible.
“Come back to me if he hurts you,” he outstretches his pinky to you. You huff, but there’s a wobbly grin on your face anyway when you promise with your own.
“You got it, Min.”
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barnesafterglow · 3 days
Text
night shift
summary: your growing fame becomes too much for bucky
pairing: actor!bucky barnes x singer!reader
word count: 2k
warnings: fame au, dual pov, unreliable narrators, idk how the grammys work (clearly), angst angst angst, steve is a good friend, bucky is Going Thru It, if you think this is joe + taylor coded you're prob right, directly inspired by night shift by lucy dacus
a/n: yearly fic, dedicated to new lovers
masterlist - i no longer have a tag list but you can follow @theafterglowlibrary to get updates! 🤍
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You shoved him off of you, heart racing, breaths coming fast. You had said Bucky’s name, had whispered it in your most intimate moment, and now you needed to leave.
You said nothing else, gathering up your clothes and pulling them on as quickly as you could.
“Wha-”
The door slammed behind you, cold winter winds whipping around you as you realized you’d left your jacket on the hook by the door. It was your favorite, but one you were okay sacrificing as long as you didn’t have to face your embarrassment anymore.
Huffing a breath you could see in front of your face, you called an Uber - at least you had remembered your phone - and paced anxiously a block away from his building, hoping and praying he wouldn’t follow you out.
The entire ride home your mind spiraled until you turned off your phone, terrified this would make headlines already and, let’s be honest, no one would be surprised if it did. You hated that was the life you lived. As if your breakup with Bucky hadn’t already been tabloid fodder for weeks now, the public speculating every detail and warping every comment and photo posted. You had taken to keeping off social media altogether in the time since, trying to disguise your outings as much as possible and take back alleys to recordings and friends’ houses.
Your biggest supporter through all of this, surprisingly, had been Steve - Bucky’s best friend. He hadn’t been your friend first, sure, but he had become like a brother to you nonetheless, and he knew the situation better than anyone. You knew he still talked to Bucky just the same and, while that stung a little, you couldn’t fault him for being there for his childhood best friend too.
Which is how you ended up outside his apartment the very next morning, clad in your typical-as-of-late attire of a hoodie and a hat and sunglasses. It was also how you came face to face with Bucky for the first time since that fateful night.
“I didn’t come to sit here and watch you stare at your feet, James.” You stood from his couch, starting to seethe with pent up anger from your gradually failing relationship, all to end up here. What did he want? To absolve his guilt and shake hands and everything would be fine?
No. You had been the victim of his petty remarks and anxious jealousy for so long. You wouldn’t let him think he deserved your time when he didn’t respect the person you had become. 
Your anger flashed back to the week before, the last time you had been seen out in public together as he was breaking up with you at your favorite coffee shop, where he had paid for your drink and you gave him a hesitant kiss, even though you knew it was inevitably coming. He had led you to a table in the corner and proceeded to tell you that he was sorry but he couldn’t do this anymore, it was too much for him - you were too much for him. Okay. That’s all you said was “okay” before you pushed out of the chair and walked around the city until the sun went down.
By the time you got home that night, the headlines were already speculating your breakup, though neither of you had yet to shed a single tear.
-
Bucky blinked as you shuffled on Steve’s doorstep, eyes wide and contemplating the quickest escape. He didn’t blame you.
He had admittedly not handled your breakup the best; in fact, he regretted it almost immediately at the stricken look on your face, clearly not expecting it. He didn’t blame you for that, either, seeing as it had slipped out in a moment of panic.
You had gained a lot of fame over the course of your relationship, even more than him, and he didn’t quite know how to cope with it. And so the words had poured out, unable to be taken back, and here you were, weeks later, still at odds.
He thought every night of how to make it up to you. Public displays weren’t your thing and you had blocked his number the night of your big fight, so that was out of the question, and he didn’t fancy showing up to your house only to have the door slammed in his face either.
But now, now maybe that you were here on the most neutral ground you could stand on, maybe he could keep his foot out of his mouth and apologize. Words stirred in his hindsight, unable to string together a coherent sentence as your face morphed through the stages of grief in record time. Then, just as he was about to speak, Steve placed a hand on his shoulder and gently guided him back into the house. Relief flooded your face as you drifted out of his sight, and he realized this probably wasn’t going to be as easy to take back as he thought.
“Buck,” Steve said as the two of them turned around the corner. “You need to leave.”
Bucky felt his face do something awful, a mixture of confusion and guilt, but he decided to keep his mouth shut. He simply nodded and kept his head down as he shrugged on his jacket and passed by you in the doorway.
He could hear the soft sound of your sobs as the front door clicked shut.
-
Songwriting could be as easy as breathing and as hard as climbing a mountain. Right now, the words flooded out of you like a tap of water.
And so did the tears, staining your notebook paper and smearing ink, but still in your heart you knew you would never forget these lyrics - these words that so painstakingly came from your soul and laid it bare.
As you finished the last verse, you took a deep breath, sucked up the tears, and called Natasha. 
-
“Steve, I need to talk to her,” Bucky whined over a beer in a rundown bar in Brooklyn.
“No, you don’t.”
“I can fix it, I know I can.”
“I don’t think you can, Buck.” Steve ran a hand through his hair, a deep sigh leaving his lips. “She’s trying to move on. Don’t ruin that for her.”
“But-”
“No.”
Bucky mimicked Steve’s sigh and leaned back in his chair. It had been increasingly hard to justify his decision to end things with you. He didn’t know what he was thinking and he regretted every moment of it since then. 
“Do you think she misses me?” Bucky looked so hopeful, but he could see the sorrow in Steve’s eyes.
“I don’t know.”
-
The Grammys, the fucking Grammys, and you were performing. You were nominated for a couple, and the Academy had asked you to sing - preferably a new song - in honor of that.
Natasha wrapped you in a hug, twirled you around, and announced you were going out to celebrate. You hesitantly said yes, knowing the press would be everywhere and there was always the possibility of seeing Bucky.
But fuck him. This was your moment.
Which is how you ended up at your favorite dive bar in Brooklyn. Your first mistake.
It was your favorite because Bucky had taken you there so many times. But you couldn’t think of another place you would celebrate than the place where so much inspiration and so many lyrics had come from.
You didn’t scan the room as you walked in with your hand clutching Nat’s, the rest of your small circle of friends following close behind. Your second mistake.
Walking straight to the bar, you didn’t notice Bucky in the far corner, watching your every move. It wasn’t until you were a few drinks in, feeling the celebration kick in, that you spotted him.
At first, you intended to ignore him. This was your time, your night, your moment. He didn’t get the spoil that.
That is, until you went to the bathroom and he trailed you into the dimly lit hallway.
“Baby,” he whispered, his voice a harsh rasp of beer and no sleep. “I’ve missed you.”
Your heart stopped beating in your chest.
You weren’t prepared to see him tonight, not that you ever were these days. But tonight of all nights, the one that should have been carefree and fun and a glittery memory for years to come, was smeared with anger and heartbreak as you spun to face him.
“What the fuck,” you snapped as his fingers grazed your bare arm. Immediately you felt bad, seeing the hurt on his face, and your expression softened. “Sorry.”
“I-it’s okay.” The catch in his voice broke your heart, your own watery eyes matching his. For just a moment.
It took you too long to come to your senses - this was the man who had shattered your heart without a second thought - but he was already so close to you. His body only inches from your own, his hot breath fanning your face, and goddamnit you missed him. You missed him so much that your heart broke all over again.
Your mind cycled through a thousand different thoughts all at once: get away, come closer, touch me, keep your hands off. You couldn’t decide what you wanted in the moment.
You were so, so angry, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching out to him. His hands settled on your waist as the lights overhead flickered. Your hand pressed gently to his cheek, completely of its own volition. Suddenly, you were tracing the planes of the face you had once known so well. He looked older now, like your time apart had aged him, yet his was still as handsome as the day you had first laid eyes on him.
His eyes locked with yours, and neither of you said a word - not him to ask, not you to stop him - as he leaned in to kiss you.
-
It should have felt like a victory - it did feel like a victory - but there was something else there. Something dark and twisted and Bucky couldn’t figure out if it was coming from you or him.
The kiss could have lasted moments or a lifetime, he didn’t really know. All he knew was one second you were holding him close to you and the next you were shoving him off.
“Fuck fuck fuck,” your voice came out in a whisper, like you didn’t want to draw attention from the steadily growing crowd of the bar. He supposed you didn’t.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.” You nodded at his words, your fingers pressed to your lips like you could still feel him there. “I’ll just go.”
You nodded again, your eyes vacant, and he made his way back to the main room of the bar. He looked back in time to see you slump against the wall, and he knew that you were thinking of a way to erase any trace of him on you.
-
The stage lights came on, you strummed your guitar and started to sing.
The first time I tasted somebody else’s spit, I had a coughing fit.
You let the lyrics you poured your heart into spill out across the stage. Still, somehow - in the crowd of hundreds of faces - you spotted Bucky.
This time, it didn’t make your heart clench. Didn’t make you shed a tear or run away.
No. This time, it empowered you. Let him hear the lyrics he inspired. Let him feel that pain of your words and feel the hole in your heart where he had broken it. Where you were now healing.
-
Bucky watched as you sang, and you were mesmerizing. He could feel the echoes of hurt in your words, the hole in your heart he had put there. He knew, despite the last time he saw you, that there was no making up. There was no fixing what was well beyond broken. No chance for him.
In five years I hope the songs feel like covers,
Dedicated to new lovers.
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pepsiboyy · 1 day
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HEARTBEAT - part one
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pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader summary: after moving to massachusetts from florida, y/n lives with her half brother, nathan doe, who is part of a small garage band. their sassy guitarist, chris sturniolo, can't help but get on her nerves. but there's something about him. warnings: use of y/n lol, mentions of drug abuse, cursing, angst a/n: NEW SERIES ugh i hope you guys LOVE IT SO HARD i have been wanting to start this one for so long i would be in class brainstorming it AND NOW IM DONE WITH IN-PERSON SCHOOL so yayy i hope you guys love it!!!!! sincerely, apollo <3
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"are you even listening?"
my eyes ripped from the window to my right.
"yeah, sorry." i mumbled.
massachusetts was so different from florida. it was so much cooler, and why is everything so close together?
i turned to my father, who i swear i only truly knew as a facebook post on my phone screen.
"i think your mom is gonna be so happy to hear that you-"
"she won't care." i chuckled softly as i took a deep breath and sighed, shrugging. "it's okay though. i'm trying to move past that."
as much as i loved my mother, i knew she was bad for me.
my mom was a major drug addict. i fearfully called the cops and child protective services upon finding her in a mental state i had never seen her in. after investigation and lots of court shit i didn't want to think about, i was sent to my father's. i never knew him personally. it was never anything toxic, we talked on social media. but he left shortly after i was born and had a son with a new woman.
my half brother, nathan doe, sat beside me scrolling on his phone.
i had never really spoken to him. he seemed like somebody i might get along with, but i had yet to interact with him.
i guess we would see how it goes.
terrible. it goes terrible. i sat in their guest bedroom for about fourty-five minutes, digging through all of my belongings to find my phone charger. i definitely forgot it.
with a deep sigh, i ran my fingers through my hair and stood to my feet quickly and made my way down the stairs and to the kitchen, where everyone was sitting. i blinked a few times.
"uhh.. hey?" i chuckled awkwardly, biting my lip before burying my hands into my hoodie's pockets. "so um.. i'm gonna run to that gas station we passed on the way here, i'll just walk, i need the fresh air." i breathed.
everyone seemed to exchange looks before they nodded and my dad stood up. "call me if you need anything."
i simply nodded and waved at everyone before heading out the door with a soft sigh, unknowingly slamming the door behind me.
the boston breeze really began to sting about halfway through the walk, even if it were only about three minutes i had really been walking. my headphones hugged my head and played loudly, blasting some of my favorite songs that i had on a playlist to calm down.
there was no reason i should have been so angry, but i think it's just the new environment truly getting to me.
i pulled open the door to the gas station and removed my hood, looking around. my eyes turned to the boy working at the counter, whose eyes were glued to his phone. i turned to look for a charger for my own phone, biting my lip in focus and frowning at the prices. "so expensive.. this is unfair." i scoffed to myself.
after grabbing the two boxes, one being a brick and the other being the cord, i let out a frustrated sigh and set them on the counter, a little harsher than i had anticipated to.
"woah there, i'm sensing some aggression. boyfriend start an argument or what?"
i turned to the boy working, my eyes wide. "excuse me?" i stared at him for a brief moment before scoffing and shaking my head. "none of your business, can you just ring me up please?" i stated firmly, getting out my card and inserting it into the reader.
after pressing a few buttons on the screen on his side, he threw his hands up in defense. "relax sweetheart, i'm just yanking your chain."
"what-?" i stared at him with an expression of disgust, pulling my card out and shoving it into my wallet angrily. i looked at his nametag and squinted slightly.
the boy set the two boxes into a bag and handed them to me, where i gripped the bag and stared at him. "i'm not your sweetheart, chris." i emphasized, quickly leaving and not turning around at the sound of him laughing to himself.
the knock at my door caused me to jump slightly, and i quickly sat up to make my way towards the sound. "what's up?"
i blinked when i saw nate looking at me, the hat on his head backwards and his sleeveless shirt loose on him.
"hey, so.." he blinked a few times as he looked away then back at me. "sorry, i know we haven't spoken much. but um. i'm part of a little band?" he mumbled, and i nodded and leaned against the doorframe as i listened closely. "i figured i should let you know, tuesdays and thursdays we play in the garage, we usually stop at about ten o'clock though, so.." he trailed off.
i looked at him and furrowed my eyebrows before looking at my phone, shrugging softly before setting it back in my pocket. i'm already forgetting the days of the week. couldn't have told anybody today was tuesday.
"that's okay with you, right?"
"yeah, of course. do your thing, man." i smiled reassuringly, and nate's entire expression visibly lit up a bit.
"'preciate it a lot, y/n. you're welcome to sit in and watch if you're interested."
i quickly shook my head and waved a hand. "no no, it's okay. i have some things to do anyway."
nate nodded and waved before he turned and headed down the stairs.
i shut the door and made my way back to my bed, yawning softly. nate seemed very sweet. i don't doubt we will get along in any way, i'm just awkward. and it seems like he is a bit too. pretty sure our dad is, too.
i sighed as i curled up in bed, watching youtube.
11:12pm. it was an hour and twelve minutes past the given time, and all i could hear was sound. just sound. below me.
i was growing frustrated with each second that went by.
fed up, i stood to my feet and stomped out of my room and down the stairs, allowing my arms to hug myself. i was wearing shorts and a baggy tee. the sound grew louder with each step that i took.
i swung open the garage door and looked at nate, slamming the drums, an unfamiliar figure strumming the bass, and-
"hey, y/n," nate stated as he stopped his movements and gave me a toothy smile.
i swear my face went pale.
"this is ben, and this is chris-"
"your name's y/n?" chris stated, his expression equally as shocked as he lowered his arms from his deep red guitar.
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tmntxthings · 1 day
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you said your requests are open in your navigation post and i'm absolutely obsessed with your writing !! could you possibly do something with yandere mikey ? whatever you want !! i'm just starving for mikey content and i love the way you characterise him <3
一∑4ÆM。・゜・🐢🧡
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author’s notes: ahhhhh thank you my sweet anon for the kind words, i’m a simple person, you say yandere, and i start writing 😂
warnings: dark au, yandere tendencies, erratic behavior, delusion, threats, intimidation, choking, unedited, angsty
song: 4ÆM by Grimes
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It was late one night. Mikey rarely stayed up past 2 am but here he was, humming to himself as he made the two of you grilled cheeses. It wasn’t 2 but 4 in the morning. Everyone else was in their own respective rooms. You had doubts that Leo and Donnie were asleep. But you could hear Raph’s snores all the way in the kitchen. And Splinter wasn’t exactly a peaceful sleeper either.
“Should I heat up some soup to dip it in?” You offered going to where they kept the cans of microwaveable soup. “Ah sure!” Mikey agreed. As it so happened, the microwave was right above the stove where Mikey was working his magic.
But years of being in each other’s space had you easily crossing the boundary of personal space to get on your tippy toes to press the button that opened up the microwave and placed the bowl of soup inside. You set it for three minutes, clicked start, and then backed away.
The smell of burnt bread filtered through your nose and you looked over to Mikey to see that he was just staring straight ahead. Spatula in hand ready for flipping the cheese sandwiches but not doing anything at all. “…Mike? It’s burnin’” you said plainly.
He blinked, looked down and his blank expression morphed into one of horror. “Oh no no no!” In dismay he flipped to see the charred toast. His teeth clacked as he scooped it once more and went for the trash can.
“Wait wait I’ll eat it! Don’t waste it Angelo!!” You said hurriedly but he just looked at you with a bewildered expression before chunking it. “We’ve got more cheese and bread, I’m not feeding you burnt grilled cheese.” You crossed your arms. “All it needed was a good scraping on the burnt side and it would’ve been fine!”
He shook his head. “Trash!” He said with finality. He got to work whipping up two more. You let it go. And the two of you situated yourself at the kitchen table, soup in between you both as you had your own respective sandwiches. You were starved so you chowed down right away. Blowing out hot air as you burned your tongue in the process.
Mikey had pulled up a YouTube video for the two of you to watch in the meantime. Glancing over at your antics and shaking his head once more but with a smile this time. “Wha?” You said with food still in your mouth. His beak scrunched. And you gave him a wicked grin before opening your mouth fully to show him the mushy half eaten food inside.
“Gross! Why?!” He whined, tearing his eyes away to watch the video he had up. You didn’t have a response for that. Spontaneity you guessed. You hadn’t finished your meal yet but you pushed out of your seat. “Where ya going?” He chirped not looking away from the screen. “Drink!” You stated, bending down as you looked in the fridge to view the options.
“Want something?” You asked. “Nah… actually a Dr. Pepper.” You grabbed one and headed back. Cracking it open you took a sip before sliding it his way. He took a sip without looking away from the screen. You tilted over to see what it was about, some grocery store hijinks. Lame! You got back to the meal. Opening up your own phone to check the messages you had missed.
You hadn’t been on your phone all day! Spending most of it with Mikey doing mundane stuff. Video gaming or watching movies. You smiled down at a specific message.
Unbeknownst to you, Mikey had his eyes on you ever since you had opened up your phone. A blank expression taking over his face once more. “Who’s that.” He said, not a question. But you hardly noticed, your attention enraptured from the slew of messages you were receiving now. Then you halted and your eyes shot up at Mikey, one of his brow bones lifted in question at the shocked look you gave him.
“I never told you!” You said with surprise and turned fully to him. Mikey felt his muscles tighten. Something you hadn’t told him? What could it be? His thoughts spiraled to worse case scenarios. “I met this person… and it was like insta-crush! They’ve just got this way about them. Okay wait wait lemme start from the beginning—“
The muscle by his jaw ticked. A crush. An insta-crush. You were crushing on someone? It was as if by thinking of the worst thing possible it then came true. While you went on distracted by your disgusting puppy love, Mikey sat there not really listening. He watched as you were pulled away from the conversation multiple times by your phone lighting up. And his pupils started to shake.
After the fourth time of you getting all distracted and giggly Mikey rammed his fist down into the table. Smashing bits of it to splinters. “What the hell Mikey?!” You were out of your chair and raising your hands up in what was a mix of emotions. “Heh! Sorryyyyy,” those dead eyes of his crinkled into crescents as he smiled then he shook his fist as if it had hurt.
“Sorry?! What was that?? You smashed the table into dust!” Your eyes were bugging out at the show of strength. “There was a bug!” Mikey lied. You gave him a once over. Then you took a step back. Ah he was such a terrible liar.
“Maybe I should go? It’s getting late. You’re probably tired!” It’s like you were trying to give him an excuse. “But I thought we were having a sleepover?” Mikey whined. Getting up from his chair slowly. You were pedaling backwards. “We can reschedule Angie! Really!” Your voice was half placating, and half fearful.
“Okay okay, you got me!” Mikey held up his hands in a show of surrender and in your confusion you hesitated to escape further. “Huh?” You questioned. “I may have gotten a teensy bit jealous! I had no idea you were crushing on someone!” Mikey explained. Then went further.
“I actually thought.. with how much you’ve been over.. and how well we get along.. I just thought maybe words weren’t needed to describe what we were!”
You blinked slowly. “We’re friends Mikey.” You said plainly. His hands went down, while his head tilted to the side. “Really? Do friends stay up this late together?” You were instantly defensive. “Yes! Donnie, me, and Leo stay up this late all the time!” So Mikey went further.
“Do they share food or the same soda? Do they cross boundaries? Do they text 24/7? Do they say I love you? Do they cuddle? Do they share a bed?” The more he listed the more his face lost control. His eyes widening in a manic sort of way as his hands started to flail about. You flushed at the last bit. “I was perfectly fine on the couch! It was you who had insisted—“
“We. Are. Dating!” He yelled out. His plastron heaving as he struggled to breathe properly. “You like me! And I like you. We aren’t friends. We’ve been dating forever. You don’t have a crush on anyone but me!” He swallowed as his eyes brightened completely into what you could only describe as his ninja stare. You trembled in place as his hands rose from his sides, his ninpo flaring to life as that fiery orange chain snaked into view threatening to shoot towards your form if you dared to bolt.
“Say it.” You couldn’t. It was a lie. It was a delusion. Something Mikey had made up all on his own, something you had no part in. You shook your head. He huffed. “Fine.” The last thing you remember seeing was that chain faster than lightning wrapping around your body, it squeezed you, holding on to every part available. Choking you. And Mikey walking over without a care in the world as your vision swam and turned black.
—————————————————————————
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dbnightingale24 · 3 days
Text
I'll Wait For Your Love
A StevexReaderxBucky Messy Triangle
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Everyone thank my husband because he fixed the wifi! This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here. I didn't finish this as quickly as I wanted to, but it still got done a lot faster than I thought it would (yay anxiety!).
Thank you @fuckingbye for always putting up with my shit, and always making me amazing moodboards because I'm lame as shit. I love you and I can't wait to tackle you with a hug <3.
As always, please heed the warnings and I hope you enjoy it! Here we go!
Word Count: 35,290 (it's called growth)
Warnings: SMUT!! (18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI), Slight Infidelity, Arguments, Drinking, Smoking, Angst, Swearing, Self Loathing, Fluff, Heartbreak, Lying (by omission), Daddy Kink, Uhh...I think that's it?
Song(s) That Inspired This Chapter: You Cling To Your Papers and Pens, Wait Until You Like Me Again
Summary: When two major parts of your past come back and ask for another chance, do you stand your ground and stay with the life you've created for yourself, or do you decide to test the water after all this time and see if it's worth the leap of faith?
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I do not give consent/permission for my works/stories to get posted elsewhere. I do not condone this type of behavior, this is for entertainment purposes only.
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It’s weird. You had made peace with never seeing either man again, yet for the past hour, the three of you have been in your kitchen arguing. Bucky snaps at you, Steve defends you, you snap at Bucky, Steve gets you to calm down, Bucky snaps at him, and you threaten to kick him out. Honestly, for the most part, Steve is the mediator. You’re assuming that they have some level of friendship again, or he just doesn’t want to pile anymore guilt and pressure onto you.
It was clear to you that he hadn’t expected Bucky to follow him and, if he hadn’t been so focused on seeing you, he would’ve noticed Bucky’s car. Apparently, with Maria being pregnant, Steve assumed that Bucky hadn’t even noticed his erratic behavior.
He should’ve been right.
“James, I don’t know what you want me to say,” you sigh for what feels like the millionth time as you stir the white sauce on the stove. “I can only apologize so many times, but it’s not like you were in the dark. You saw the connection between Steve and I, and you decided to pursue me anyway. I didn’t start cheating until long after you had-”
“You being in love with Steve was already cheating!” he shouts at you, and you pinch the bridge of your nose.
“Are you ever capable of holding yourself accountable? Or is it only when you know you’re in danger of losing me? You never apologized for cheating and you still won’t fess up to it, you never actually apologized for your behavior when we found out I couldn’t get pregnant, and even now, you’re just throwing it in my face that I cheated on you after you cheated on me. Is that what you came all the way here for? To yell at me and make me feel small in my own home? Because, if it is, you can get the fuck out right now. I don’t need this shit from you, James. I didn’t need it then and I sure as shit don’t need it now,” you say firmly as you finally turn to face him.
You don’t miss the small smile that comes to Steve’s face, before he takes a sip from his beer bottle. 
Bucky lets out a frustrated sigh before he ran a hand through his hair, “no, that’s not why I came out here.” “Then what did you come here for?”
“I wanted to see you,” he confesses softly.
You turn and open the oven to check on the salmon, “she’s pregnant, James. That’s what you wanted-” “I wanted it with you and you know that.”
“You cheated with her, James. You cheated with her because you knew it would hurt me the most, you fucked her at work, in our house, and went out with her after work very publicly to make me look like a fool. Then, you denied the whole thing to try and make me feel crazy, like I couldn’t see the lipstick stains on my pillow-”
“You hurt me!”
“Because I couldn’t have a fucking kid? You think that was a fun thing for me to find out?!”
“It wasn’t just the baby! You never loved me in the way that you love Steve, and I tried and tried-”
“Then why not just let me go?!”
“Cause I loved you. I love you.”
“Well, you got married to her a year after I left, and now she’s gonna have your child. Looks like you’re doing just fine.” “Don’t be fucking callous,” he scoffs.
“James, you followed Steve to my home to berate me, and you’re gonna sit there and tell me not to be callous? You went out of your way to have this argument, and for what? Because you couldn’t trap me into being in love with you? Go fuck yourself and die on that fucking cross you’re so desperate to hang yourself from!”
“Darlin’,” Steve snaps and Bucky rolls his eyes.
“I’m sorry, but fuck that. You want me to feel so bad for something I tried to ignore, and that’s not fair! What I did was wrong, but I tried. I defended you, I looked the other way, and never held anything over your head. You constantly went out of your way to hurt me, and I’m supposed to feel bad for finally following my heart? I’m supposed to feel bad because I wouldn’t let you trap me and make me hate myself anymore? Fuck that. I never played you for a fool, you did that shit to yourself, and I refuse to pay penance for it anymore,” you snap as you pour the bow ties into the boiling water. “God, where does your pregnant wife even think you are?”
“I just told her I needed to get out for a while.” “You’re such an asshole. I don’t even like the bitch and I think it’s a low blow. You leave your pregnant wife to tell your ex-wife that you still love her? What the fuck did you think was going to happen? What did you think I was gonna say? You thought I’d see the light and wanna take you back? You married her out of spite, James.”
“I do love her-”
“Well, clearly not enough,” you scoff, “this feels a lot like the pot calling the kettle black, because you love her, but you’re still pining over me? That’s fucking rich, I gotta say. You’re a real piece of work,” you chuckle dryly as you pour yourself another glass. 
“I wanted to see you...make sure you’re okay. Nat and Meg won’t tell anyone anything, Meg won’t even talk to me-”
“Well, what the hell did you think was going to happen, James? I’ve been her best friend since we were six. Yeah, she’s not too fucking fond of you after everything that’s happened.”
“So what? You just hate me now?”
“I don’t hate you, you self centered asshole! I should, I have every fucking right to after the last year we spent together, and I wish I did, but I don’t! You’ve been attacking me! I’m sorry that you decided to pursue the one person your best friend was in love with, and I’m sorry that no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t love you the way I’ve always loved Steve. I’m sorry that I cheated on you with Steve and it broke your heart even more. However, a lot of this shit could’ve been avoided if you would’ve just stayed away! I’m not your fucking scapegoat anymore, James. You’re finally getting what you want, and you’re still not happy-” “I don’t have you! I don’t have what I want-”
“You had me and then decided to treat me like an object! I can’t do anything about the fact that you treated me like total fucking trash, James! That’s on you, not me,” you state as the timer goes off.
As you turn off the stove top, Charlotte makes her way into the kitchen and sits patiently.
“You know better little miss,” you laugh softly, “go lay down.”
She huffs, but gets up and walks back to her bed nonetheless, and your heart flutters at Steve’s soft chuckle. 
“So, that’s it?” Bucky huffs.
“I honestly don’t know what else you expect. I don’t know what more you want to know. Everything you’ve asked, I’ve been honest about, everything you deserve an apology for, I’ve apologized for...what else is there to say? What else is there to do?” you ask as his phone goes off.
Pulling it out (rather aggressively), he mutters, “what the fuck now?” before getting up and storming out, slamming the door shut behind him.
“If he breaks my house, I’ll break his neck,” you mutter, checking on the broccoli, before taking another sip from your glass.
“It’s Maria. She’s been on edge lately. She’s due in two months and she feels like Bucky’s attention is elsewhere.”
“I wonder why,” you scoff. “What about you? Are you gonna rake me over the coals too?”
“You know better than that, honey,” he sighs heavily. “We don’t have to-”
“You might as well, Steve. It’s why you’re here-”
“I’m here because I’ve missed you like crazy, and I wanted to see you. We’ve already gotten farther than I expected us too.”
“Why?”
“I wasn’t sure if you’d wanna see me or not.”
“I was never angry with you, Steve. Leaving you was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I still cry over it,” you scoff, rubbing your forehead. 
“Then why-”
“I couldn’t do that to you, Steve. I loved you. I love you. Breaking up your friendship with Bucky? Stealing you from the Avengers-”
“I told you I’d go with you-”
“But you would’ve felt guilty. Yeah, you’d still love me, and you’d be happy to make a life with me anywhere, but you’d feel guilty. You and Bucky? I knew it could get resolved once I was out of the picture, and for the most part, I was right.”
“You didn’t give me a chance-”
“Because you wouldn’t have been logical about it, babe. Neither of us are ever exactly smart when it comes to each other,” you smile softly and he chuckles with a slight nod. “Please understand that it wasn’t something I did lightly, or that I didn’t think about how much it would hurt you. It seems like I’m always hurting you one way or another, and I’ve never wanted that.”
“We always find ways to hurt each other, darlin’. We can’t seem to get this dance right,” he sighs.
“No, we can’t.”
“Whatever you’re making smells amazing,” he smiles weakly.
“One of the many perks of no longer being an Avenger, I get to work on my cooking skills.”
“You’ve always been the best cook, babe,” he compliments as he gets up and makes his way over to you.
Having him so close to you still makes your brain so foggy, even after all this time.
“I’ll leave after dinner-”
“You don’t have to,” you quickly interrupt. “Neither one of you do. I have spare bedrooms...” “You’re comfortable with us staying here?”
“I mean, I’m already feeding the both of you and I don’t want you to spend the money, when there’s no need.”
“Still the most thoughtful person I know,” he whispers, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, and you lean into his touch. “There is something I have to tell you though.”
“Oh God.”
“They know.”
“They who?” “Everyone. I told Tony I’d be gone for a few days, because no matter what happened today, I knew I was gonna need time to recover, and he kept saying that he needs me to train the new recruits. So, I just folded and told him where I was going.”
“Shit.”
“I’m sorry, I really am, but I needed to see you, darlin’. I had no right and it’s your privacy, but I knew he wouldn’t let me go if I didn’t tell him.”
“No, it’s alright. I’m the one that left the way that I did...”
“He wants to see you, they all do.”
“Steve-”
“I didn’t promise them anything, I just told them I’d let you know.”
“I guess I owe it to everyone, don’t I?”
“That’s for you to decide,” he smirks as his eyes study your face. “You smell like vanilla and strawberries.”
“It’s my soap,” you giggle.
“I feel like I should be angry with you. You looked me in the eyes and lied to me.”
“To be fair, you did the same thing, Rogers. For years.”
“That’s true,” he sighs, backing up and leaning against the kitchen island.
Your confusion is short lived when you hear Bucky come storming back in.
“Are you staying over or not?” you ask as the second timer goes off. 
He glares looking from you to Steve, “do you even want me here?”
“Whether I do or don’t isn’t the point. I’ve already made dinner, it’s getting late, and there’s no reason for you to spend money if you don’t have to. If you don’t have to go back tonight, I prefer you to stay where I know you’re safe. The last thing I need is for you to get into an accident on an almost five hour ride home, because you were sulking and not paying attention,” you mutter, dumping the bow ties into a strainer before transfer them to a bowl.
He looks taken aback (in a good way) , before responding with, “thank you,” and grabbing another beer.
“Ya know, I know you two can’t get drunk off of anything I have, but I do have stronger drinks.”
“This is fine, doll. Thank you.”
Well, at least he’s being nicer.
Soon enough, you’re taking the salmon out of the oven and breaking it up, before cutting up the broccoli and adding both to the bow ties. After adding in your homemade white sauce, you add just a bit of lemon juice and mixing it all in together. You can’t lie, it’s nice to cook for someone besides yourself for a change, even if the situation is extremely awkward.
“Uh, darlin’?” Steve asks softly as you take three plates out of your upper cabinet.
“Hmm?”
“Not to be creepy or nosey, but your phone keeps vibrating,” he laughs.
“Ah shit!”
You completely forget to answer the chat between you, Meg, Nat.
“Take as much as you want,” you tell them before sprinting up the steps.
Grabbing it off of the nightstand, you let out a small groan as you see the string of missed texts in the ‘Three Crazies’ chat.
Ms. Widow: I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.
Rock n’ Roll Queen: What happened???
Ms. Widow: Steve heard me on the phone with Y/N, and hes taking a few days off go and see her.
Rock n’ Roll Queen: Oh shit! Oh SHIT!
Ms. Window: I think Buck is going too, or something, cause he took a few days off too. Maria found out and she’s freaking the fuck out. 
Rock n’ Roll Queen: Fuck.
Ms. Widow: The whole fucking compound is buzzing, and Bruce is more than upset with me. Y/N, I’m really so sorry.
Rock n’ Roll Queen: Has anyone said anything to you?
Ms. Widow: No, Tony’s been pacing all day and the team is kind of dumbfounded. No one knew where she was, now, both Steve and Bucky are off to see her. No one knows why the divorce happened...no one knows anything.
Rock n’ Roll Queen: Babe, has anyone said anything? Has anyone showed up?
Ms. Widow: Oh God, please answer.
Rock n’ Roll Queen: Starting to get worried here, babe.
Ms. Widow: Please don’t hate me. I’m so damn sorry. I didn’t know Steve was even around.
Y/N: They’re here now, both of them are downstairs eating dinner, and they’re staying over tonight. I’ll talk more after dinner when I’m getting ready for bed. I could never hate you, Nat. You should know that by now.
You place your phone in your back back pocket and run a stressed hand through your hair, pacing before you remember they can both hear you and just stand in the middle of your bedroom. How was everything spiraling so fast? How the fuck were you supposed to explain things without saying too much? Oh God, how the fuck were you gonna deal with Maria?
All of these thoughts were giving you a headache, and you’re growing hungrier by the second. Racing back downstairs, you walk right by the two sets of inquisitive eyes, and make yourself a large helping of the pasta dish into a bowl before showering it with a generous helping of Parmesan cheese.
“What’s wrong, darlin’?” Steve is first to ask, but the look on Bucky’s face lets you know he’s just as worried. 
“Everything is fine, just having a day,” you mutter, grabbing a fork and your drink before making your into your living room, and curling up on the couch.
You honestly aren’t even mad at them, but you’re now trying to navigate how all of this is going to work. You’d closed that chapter of your life, and had dealt with things in your own way, but now? Now, everyone knows and for as much as you hate to admit it, they deserve an explanation. It doesn’t matter that you technically did everything by the book (turning in all your weapons and any sensitive and classified details you had), you still abandoned your friends. The family you got to create. All they want is to see you and know that you’re okay, and who are you to say no? None of them did anything to deserve that.
God, you hope they don’t think you’ll stay. You have no desire for that life anymore, nor do you feel like seeing Maria’s smug fucking face anymore. No, you’re life isn’t exactly quiet now, but it’s a lot more calm and a lot more stable. You have your job, your fur baby, your home-
“Darlin’,” Steve sighs as he sits at the other end of the sofa.
You hadn’t even noticed that Charlotte had sensed your anxiety and stress, and curled up by your toes. 
“I’m sorry, this is my fault-”
“I’m the one who walked away like I did, Steve.”
“Be that as it may, I-we disrupted your privacy. No, I didn’t expect Bucky to follow me, but I...I just needed to see you and didn’t think about anything else. I haven’t seen much of your life out here, but I can tell it’s quiet, you’re happy, and you’re finally at peace. Now, you have a million questions to answer and people to answer to. I’m really sorry, honey.”
“It’s...it’s fine,” you sob, not even understanding why you’re crying.
All at once, all of these emotions just overwhelm you, and you feel as if you’re drowning.
“Darlin’?!”
“What the hell did you do to her?!” you hear Bucky faintly yell.
Everything seems to fade around you and all sound is lost. Your family, friends, past...you have to face them all. Everything you’ve tricked yourself into thinking you’ve healed from is all of a sudden back in your life at once; the scabs all feel torn off and bleed again. Without warning, no easing back into it, and you have no idea what to expect. What if everyone hates you? What if no one even wants to see you? Is Maria the favorite now? Is she in your old office? You faintly feel someone wrap their arms around you, and you honestly don’t care which one of them it is, you just cling to them in a weak attempt to bring yourself back down.
“Darlin’, you’re okay, it’s all okay. Buck and I are right here,” Steve promises with worry laced in every word as he softly rubs your back.
He pulls you close and you can tell he’s trying to regulate your breathing with his own.
“I need you to breathe for me, pretty girl. Deep breaths,” he coos softly.
“M...Meg! Please call Meg,” you sob.
“Call Meg!” he repeats harshly towards Bucky, and you hate yourself for how worried they both are.
You pray that they don’t start arguing, because you don’t know what the hell you’ll do, and you can faintly hear Charlotte whining and feel her little paws on your lap. You haven’t had a panic attack since your second night there, and she’s never seen you have one.
~~
This is only a bit of the final installation of 'My Little Decoy'. You can read the full version here.
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