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auteurdelabre · 2 days

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A LITTLE SUN PART 7 (part II) Dieter Bravo x f!Reader

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 in one post. ARGH. So below is part two.

HERE IS PART ONE OF THIS CHAPTER.

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Your mother is pacing around the kitchen when the doorbell rings. With a muttered grumble she strides to the front door, tugging it open with a flourish. She expects to see her pregnant daughter there, what she doesn’t expect is a six foot movie star she hates to be flinching at her.

He’s wearing a short sleeved linen shirt, freshly pressed slacks and his usually unruly hair has been combed neatly. He even got Magda to trim his beard for him. He wants to make a good impression.

"Hi," Dieter says, his stomach churning anxiously as your mother stares him down. "I'm Dieter-"

"I know exactly who you are," the woman snaps, arms crossing over her front. "What do you want? I’m afraid I don't have any more daughters for you to buy babies from."

She tries to look around his broad shoulders. "Where is my daughter by the way?"

Dieter shuffles back and forth, his expensive dress shoes scraping the ground. Suddenly all his bravado has left him and he feels much like a chastised child.

"I wanted to talk to you," Dieter explains. "Just you and me if that’s okay?"

Your mother's brows knit angrily. "So she couldn't even be bothered-"

"She doesn't know I'm here," Dieter interjects.

He goes to say something more when he thinks he notices a car slowing down up the block. Paparazzi. Your mother notices as well because she ushers Dieter into the house, closing the door behind him sharply.

"You have five minutes."

Dieter slips off his shoes and follows her to the couch, about to launch into his speech when he sniffs the air.

"Are you baking?"

"Cinnamon bread. My daughters favorite," your mother says, eyes misting. She regards Dieter a moment, softening. "Would you like a piece?"

"I'd love one."

He takes a seat on the couch as ordered, watching as your mother brings out a tray holding several slices of cinnamon bread, a tea pot and two mugs.

“This is so fuc- darn delicious,” Dieter corrects himself, wiping the crumbs from his fingers on his pants, much to your mother’s dismay. “I love it.”

Your mother offers a small grunt by way of reply, watching him eat and taking small sips of her tea. Dieter notices you both hold your cups the same way, forefinger and pinky slightly out. It makes him long for you, wishing you were here with him as he attempts this conversation.

But you can’t be, he knows you’re too stubborn for it. Judging by how your mother is looking at him now, it’s a familial trait.

“I wanted to come over and try to explain things.”

“There’s nothing to explain,” your mother snaps, her teacup placed on the coffee table. “You and my daughter made a baby, she’s selling it to you and she never told me.”

"I'm sorry it was a secret for so long,” Dieter says. “It's just because of my notoriety that we had to keep it under wraps.”

“From the world, I understand, but from her own mother?” She shakes her head. “Do you know how hurtful that is? To find out your only child is pregnant because of the tabloids? To think you’re going to be a grandmother and then find out she’s selling the baby off?”

“She signed an NDA," Dieter explains with a wince, knowing how awful it sounds. "I'm so sorry. She hated to do it. It was my fault."

"And your mother?" Your mom huffs. "I bet she knew she was going to be a grandma before the tabloids di-"

She breaks off, irritated when she sees the hollow look in Dieters eyes.

"My uh, my mom isn't alive," Dieter says, fingers tapping anxiously at his side. "She died when I was in my twenties."

"Your father?"

Dieter shakes his head, wincing. Your fierce mother immediately softens her tone, her shoulders lowering.

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“You shouldn’t be sorry to me about anything,” Dieter says in a soft rasp. “I’m the one who you should be mad at. Not your daughter.”

Your mother wraps her arms around herself. "How is she?"

"Hurt. She misses you."

"Must not miss me much. She's made no attempt to call."

"She's worried about what you'll say. Your opinion matters so much to her, you know that. Especially with her dad gone."

Your mother swallows. "They were so similar. So stubborn and..."

Suddenly the dam behind the woman's eyes breaks and Dieter watches her face crumple.

"I just wish he was here," she says, shoulders shaking. Dieter feels his own eyes filling with tears, his heart aching in tandem. He can't help but reach out and cover her hand with his.

"I’m so sorry."

"If he was here he would know exactly what to say," your mother continues, allowing his hand to remain over hers. "Michael could always get through to her when I couldn't."

“My mom knew me in a way my dad never did,” Dieter offers after a moment. “Knew exactly the right thing to say at the right time. It’s hard not having that. But you still have time with your daughter. Time that’s wasting with you two being mad at each other.”

Your mother blinks up at Dieter, a slow understanding reflected in her swimming eyes. As if she’s seeing him properly for the first time. He continues on, encouraged that it’s been over five minutes and she hasn’t kicked him out yet.

“And I know you think this whole thing with the baby is a spontaneous decision and that I’m massively immature and yeah, I can be. But you need to know that when your daughter told me she was pregnant it was the best day of my life," Dieter says, his voice thick with emotion.

He takes a moment, swallowing and blinking furiously. His hand tightens around your mothers’.

“But I’m not that guy anymore. I’ve changed. She’s changed me, my son has changed me. I’m not perfect, but I also don’t think there’s anyone in the world that will love your da—grandson more than me.”

Your mother blinks rapidly, her weathered face softening further. “My grandson?”

“If you want him to be,” Dieter explains, suddenly unsure. “If your daughter is okay with it. I don’t have any parents in my life. It would be nice for him to have a grandmother.”

Any lingering distaste your mother may have held for Dieter is wiped away in that moment. The sincerity in his wide dark eyes and the nervous way he twists the rings on his fingers endears her further.

“And I know you’re upset with her about all of this but I promise I’ll take care of her for the rest of her life,” Dieter finishes, his eyes glassy. “Even if she’s in Sacramento doing school. Even if she never wants to see me or our son. I want to make her happy and that means taking care of you too. The house is paid for; your daughter will be taken care of.”

Your mother’s hands move from under Dieter’s to over, clasping his wide hands tightly. She has a gentle smile on her face now, the anger gone from her voice.

“I thank you Dieter. That is a kindness that touches my heart. Knowing I can remain in the same house I raised my family in means more to me than you realize. But it wasn’t your place to do it.”

“I know.”

“I can’t accept it.”

“Please,” Dieter begs with his big brown eyes so round and sorrowful your mother has to blink back a new onslaught of tears. “She’s giving me the world. The rest of your mortgage is nothing in comparison to that.”

Your mother can’t help but laugh out loud at the earnestness in his expression. He grins crookedly as she laughs, wiping tears from her lash line. He waits until she sobers, shaking her head with a small smile on her face.

“Alright, I accept it. But only if you’ll let me cook you dinner every once in a while.”

“And cinnamon bread?”

“And cinnamon bread,” your mother says laughing again. “As for taking care of my daughter? That is something you’ll have to take up with her. But be warned she’s even more stubborn than me.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dieter grins shyly, causing the two of them to chuckle between themselves softly.

“I’ll call her,” your mother says resolutely. “I need to apologize and tell her she can move back home if she wants.”

Dieter immediately stiffens. He hadn’t thought about this part.

"Actually if its okay I want her to stay with me until the baby is born," Dieter explains, curls falling into his eyes, his mannerisms anxious. "I like having my son nearby."

"And perhaps having my daughter nearby too?" Your mother peers into his face with a small curl of her lips. “You care for her. More than a boss for an employee. Or a father for a surrogate.”

Dieter looks overcome for the moment, his dark eyes on the floor. He doesn’t know how to respond.

“That’s between you two,” your mother acknowledges. “It’s not my place to say anything.”

Before Dieter can say anything in reply he hears the sound of a frantic key turning in the lock and the front door is thrust open.

The two of them whip their heads in the direction of the front door to see you stumbling into the house, slamming the door behind you. Your hair is wild, your face flushed and you look extremely pissed off. You look at the two of them on the couch and your brows knit.

“What the fuck is going on here?”

"How did-"

"Magda," you answer before Dieter can finish the question. "Why the fuck are you here at my house with my mom?"

You watch as your mom rises from the couch next to Dieter. Her eyes are wet and when she gazes at your very full stomach she gives a soft little gasp.

"Honey-"

"Don't honey me," you snap, feeling angry tears welling in your eyes as you glare over at Dieter. "Let's go, Dieter."

"Baby, wait-" Dieter starts, pausing only when you whip back around to fix him with a leveling glare.

He looks so sorrowful standing there between you and your equally broken-looking mother that you find yourself relenting. You have an idea on why he’s here and even if it wasn’t his place you can’t deny that it was kind of him to try.

"Go wait in the kitchen, please."

Dieter opens his mouth to suggest something else but the glint to your eyes has him slamming it shut and nodding. You wait until he's shuffled into the next room before looking back at your mother.

"Baby?" Your mom ventures gently.

"He calls everyone that," you lie.

She nods slowly but you know she doesn't believe you. Your mother also knows you well enough that she doesn’t attempt to sway you.

"Here, come take a seat," she offers motioning to the couch. "Your ankles must be swollen."

You lift a surprised brow but you waddle over to her, settling into the seat with an exhale. You look at Dieter’s leftover cinnamon bread crumbs and frown. How long was he here for? You look back to your mother, shocked at her gentle countenance. You’d expected anger or frustration, instead you see only regret.

"How did you know about the ankles?"

"I was the same when I was pregnant with you," she says coming to sit on the other end of the couch. "I carried high like you as well."

"Really?" You absently drape your fingers over the curve of your stomach.

"Oh yes," your mother smiles, eyeing your bump.

As you sit there discussing this with shy smiles you wish that this pregnancy was normal. That you had a husband and excited family that threw you a baby shower for a child you'd be able to bring home and care for at the end of it all.

You wish your mom felt comfortable to place her hands on your stomach and to care for this little boy you carry. But she’s holding back her emotions, not wanting to get attached.

After several moments your mom shuffles closer to you on the couch, her hand coming to cup not your stomach, but your cheek.

“I’m sorry,” your mom says, and you’re shocked at the tears pooling in her eyes. “I never wanted… I just… I acted shamefully.”

“I don’t understand why,” you explain, chin wobbling. “We’ve always had a great relationship. Or I thought we did.”

“I thought we did too,” your Mom acknowledges. “But considering you kept this a secret I think I might have done something wrong along the way. You never should have been afraid to come to me with this.”

You don’t know how to answer that.

“You won’t understand until you’re a -” you mom catches herself. “A parent provides for their children, not the other way around. I felt ashamed that you felt you needed to take care of me.”

For a moment you look at her not as your mother, but as a woman. A tired woman who sacrificed so much to see you taken care of and your heart cracks.

“I like taking care of you Mom,” you explain, swallowing the tears there. “I love you. You’re all I have left. Fighting with you these past few weeks has been awful.”

“I know honey,” your mom says and now she pulls you into her arms, rocking you as if you were still that child who ran to her with a scraped knee or boy troubles. “I’m so sorry, please forgive me.”

“Of course I do,” you say, burying your face in her shoulder as you let the tears flow. For the first time since your father died the two of you cry together, arms wrapped around one another, your son nestled between the two of you. Finally sniffling you pull back, wiping at your eyes.

“Were you mean to Dieter?”

“Tried to be,” your mother replies with a grin. “Impossible to be though. He’s very sweet.”

“He’s been amazing through this whole thing,” you answer honestly, feeling the need to sing his praises to the woman who usually derides him. “He’s been the most supportive, caring version of himself I’ve ever seen. Sober, sweet and I love being around him.”

Your mother’s eyes search yours intensely, so much that you blink wondering what she’s looking for. Her gaze breaks when a shy Dieter knocks on the wall separating the two rooms.

“Uh, is it okay if I come in?”

Your mother laughs. “We’ll come to you. My daughter needs some cinnamon bread.”

The two of you stand, your mom helping you before letting her hand fall briefly to your swollen belly. You watch her face beaming as she does before her eyes go to yours.

“My baby having a baby,” she murmurs.

The two of you enter into the kitchen hand in hand. Dieter is standing by the sink, his hair even more wild than usual. He was obviously running his hands through it anxiously.

Dieter approaches you both slowly, as if he’s concerned one of you will be furious. When he sees the easy smile in both of your faces and your clasped hands he feels the tightness in his chest release.

“Thank you, Dieter,” you tell him gently as he approaches. He doesn’t push it, doesn’t ask you to elaborate. He just nods his head, smiling and coming to stand next to you. Your mother releases your hand, coming to stand in front of you both.

“Now you can retire,” Dieter offers with a hopeful look in your mother’s direction.

“No,” your mom says shortly, drawing both sets of eyes her way. You feel yourself deflate, closing your eyes for a steadying moment. You can’t stand the cruelty she’s still holding in her heart for Dieter after everything.

“Mom-“

“No, I like my job,” your mother tells Dieter, ignoring you. She comes to stand in front of him, having to look up due to her short stature. “I enjoy it. So I won’t retire. But I will work less and try to enjoy more of my life.”

You both break into easy grins.

“Yes ma’am.”

Your mother’s smile dims a fraction as she gazes between the two of you.

“Dieter has offered me a chance to be the baby’s grandmother,” your mother says quietly. “But that will be your decision my love. I won’t do anything that you’re uncomfortable with.”

You swallow. “Do you want to be his grandmother? Even if I’m not in the picture? Even if we have no legal right?”

“I would,” your mother replies without hesitation. You turn your head to face the taller man to your left.

“And you’re really okay with it, Dieter?”

“More than okay.”

Dieter’s eyes are on the ground, suddenly overwhelmed with emotions. He wishes his own mother was here, wishes she could have met you. He knows that she would have loved you.

“Then I’m okay with it,” you murmur.

He’s so grateful that his baby will have a grandmother. Even if you want nothing to do with him he’ll forever have this tie to you.

Your mother glances over at Dieter before stepping towards him.

"Let me see your face," your mother demands cupping Dieter's stubbled cheeks in her hands and forcing his eyes to hers. A few quiet minutes pass, their eyes in silent communion before you see both sets watering.

You watch in shock as your mother leans forward and in an act so naturally maternal kisses Dieter's forehead gently.

"You're a good man," she tells him gently. "A good man who acts silly sometimes."

When tears slip down Dieter’s cheeks you feel your jaw drop. Your mother pulls him into a tight hug, rocking him as they stand, murmuring something into his wild hair. You breathe unsteadily when his own arms go to wrap around her waist, clinging to her. He looks like a lost boy finding harbor in the embrace of his mother, his shoulders shaking gently as she soothes him in her arms.

She looks over at you, smiling gently. She tugs you over into her arms as well and before long the three of you are embracing standing in the middle of your mom's messy kitchen.

"Will you two stay for dinner?" Your mother asks eyes hopeful when the three of you break apart, all sets of eyes glassy.

"That would be so great," Dieter says excitedly before you can answer, rubbing at his wet eyes. He wants to take advantage of being in your home. He wants to see where you grew up, where you exist when you're not with him.

"You're Chilean right?"

"Part, yeah."

"Right, I'm going to pop out to the market," your mom says with a wide grin as she picks up her car keys. "I'll be back in a flash."

Your mother is gone excitedly out the door before you can even process what’s happening. That you’re having dinner with your boss and your mom and your unborn child. It’s all a bit much. And yet the thought warms you.

“So do I get a tour?”

“Sure,” you say grinning. Without thought you take his hand, guiding him through the hall pointing out the rooms, giving small synopsis like “this is where I was standing when my first boyfriend called and broke up with me” and “this is where I fell in the tub and cracked my tooth”

“And you know my bedroom,” you tell him with a smirk. “Very acquainted with the closet, I believe.”

He grins before taking his time looking around your room. Last time he’d been in a rush, but today he looks at everything. He sees the framed photo of you on horseback, the science ribbons for first and second place. He notices a trophy for high school tennis. He grins at the poster of Cillian Murphy behind your door. He sees the Polaroid’s of you and your friends stuck to your mirror.

“You never mention your friends,” Dieter observes pointing at the photo. “How come?”

“I never see them,” you shrug coming over to peer at them. “They all got married, had kids. I was in school and then I was working and we kind of just lost touch.”

“Do you miss them?”

“Honestly? Sometimes. But school and my career just always seemed more important.”

“You don’t think you could have both? A career and a family?”

“Not really,” you shake your head. “Can’t have it all.”

“Why not?”

“I dunno,” you shrug again. “Something has to give.”

“Only if you have a shit partner,” Dieter offers.

Before you can say anything more he’s gone to your bookshelf, looking at the tomes that reside there and muttering their titles under his breath. You watch him just existing in this room, before your reason for rushing over here affronts you.

“Did you pay off my Mom’s mortgage?”

“Yeah,” Dieter replies after a beat, twisting to face you. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

You stare at Dieter as he says this, the passion in his voice overwhelming you. Since when was this his plan? You’re supposed to take the three hundred grand and go.

“Why do that? You knew I was going to do it.”

“I wanted that money to be for you,” Dieter explains. “Not taking care of the mortgage and everything else. I’d pay for your school too but something tells me you’d refuse that.”

“Correct.”

“Your mother was right, you are stubborn.”

This gets a shocked laugh out of you. “What else did you two talk about?”

“That’s between her and me,” he says with a supercilious look on his face. “I think she might like me better than you at this point.”

Affection swims through your limbs and it carries you to him. Without warning your hands go to his shoulders, mouth pressing gently to his. He accepts this eagerly, his wet tongue dabbing against yours gently.

"Thank you," you whisper against his full mouth. "But you don't have to take care of me."

"I like taking care of you," Dieter murmurs, his nose tracing yours. "You spent so long taking care of me and everyone else; let me take care of you now."

You nod; kissing him again and feeling him slowly back you towards your bed.

“Mia,” you remind him.

“Its fine,” he assures you, hands tugging at the hem of your shirt.

“I’m not going to sleep with you when you’re in a relationship, Dieter.”

“I’m not,” he promises you, “I swear.”

You want to press him for more information. But more than that, you just want Dieter. You need to be as close to him as possible. You need to feel his bare skin on yours, inhale the crook of his neck, taste his lips.

And when he gently urges you onto your back in your childhood bed you don't fight him. You allow him to bring down your shorts and panties and even though you can't see anything other than his hair over your belly you can't stop the gasp that escapes you when his mouth begins to work over your core.

Moments later after you've come spectacularly for him, groaning out his name with your thighs quivering against his ears and your hands fisting through his hair, he crawls up next to you on the bed.

He traces over your abdomen, his dark eyes ever widened in wonder as he feels his son underneath his palm. Sunlight filters in through your bedroom window, giving him a haloed effect as he gazes down at you, his mouth swollen and damp.

"I don't know how I'm going to go back to normal life," you smile sleepily as you run a finger along his lower lip. "After being spoiled by Dieter Bravo school is sure going to pale in comparison."

Dieter keeps the smile frozen on his face but inside his stomach drops. Your schooling is going to start soon. He’s going to be separated from you. He feels his sons foot kick him and you both giggle. At least he’ll have this part of you.

He helps you into your panties and shorts before your mother returns shortly after. If she notices your flushed cheeks and Dieters extra mussed hair she doesn't comment on it.

"I cheated," your mom says with a mischievous little smile that Dieter thinks looks identical to yours as she hands you both your plates when you come to sit at the dining table. "There's a wonderful Latin restaurant in town. They make the best palta."

The food is just as good as she made it seem. Between the palta and the Estofado and variety of empanadas you’re quickly overwhelmed with taste. You take your time savoring it though, making a note to try more Chilean food in the future.

“So I guess I’ll move back tomorrow,” you say after a hot bite of your stew. “I only have the two suitcases.”

Nothing about moving back appeals to you, aside from seeing your mother on a regular basis. You know for a fact that being away from Dieter will hurt, but perhaps that’s for the best. You need to separate yourself from this silly fantasy.

"You can move back here at any time my love," your mom enthuses before casting a quick look at Dieter's downturned face. "But I think it would be best if you stayed at Dieter's. He has all that space and a pool and that chef-"

"But I don't like to think of you here all by yourself," you insist.

"Honey, don't worry about me. I lived with your father and then you for over thirty five years. I need a break."

You sputter a surprised laugh at this. This whole time you had been painting your mother as this sad tragic figure, when really she's a woman coming into her own just as much as you are. You swallow your mouthful, eyes darting to the man at your left.

"Is it okay if I stay at your place a little longer, Dieter?"

"Of course," Dieter enthuses through a mouthful of avocado. "I told you, stay as long as you like. And now your Mom can come visit whenever she likes."

You smile at this, holding in the urge to kiss him.

When Dieter rests his arm on the back of your chair during the rest of dinner you don't even register it happening. When his fingertips absently trace your upper arm as he listens to your mom talking about her job you don't notice.

But your mom notices. She notices it all.

On the drive back home your mind is a muddle of things. But mostly your heart swells with the knowledge that Dieter, a man you always thought was chronically selfish did this for you at no gain for himself.

"You didn't have to do that for me," you tell him as you walk back into Dieter’s home a short while later. He’s quiet with a faraway look in his eyes.

"I know. I just wanted to help."

The two of you are heading to the kitchen, about to put away the leftovers your mother insisted on sending home with you. Dieter takes them from your hands with a soft “I got it” before popping them in the fridge.

Dieter had always struck you as self-centered, the entire time you worked for him. From the flippant way he spoke to people in the industry he disliked, to the cavalier attitude towards other PA’s.

But right now all you can think of is the way he's continually showed up for you. The way he supports you in not only this pregnancy but your schooling, your family, your goals. You see a change in him, one that takes your breath away.

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?”

He sees your eyes and the way they go dark the longer you stare at him. The desire is so clear in your expression.

He crosses the room and his mouth comes to yours, petal soft. He sighs, hands coming to either side of your neck, thumbs propped against your jaw. You lean into the kiss, your belly sandwiched between the two of you.

"Take me to bed, Dieter."

Dieter doesn't hesitate, his arm bands around your waist guiding you to the bedroom.

He takes his time undressing you, kissing every part of your flesh he uncovers. He kisses the stretch marks on your belly, and he caresses the extra flesh that pads your body with a reverence that makes you teary.

Your stomach is getting too large for missionary so he sweetly urges you to roll onto your side, not doing anything until you’re comfortable. Only then does he makes sweet and gentle love to you, your head on his arm as he fills you slowly, watching the way your body responds to him.

He holds you delicately at first, not wanting to be too rough. But you’re eager, so fucking eager, and your hand goes to his hip, urging him to go harder, to go faster.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispers, your thigh over his, your body slowly being pumped into by him. You’re arching, whimpering his name as he holds you against him. Every stroke feels like adoration, every graze of his fingers against your clit feels like more than just desire.

“I need to hear you come, baby,” he murmurs, his nose running along your temple. You turn your face to him, kissing him gently as his thrusts deepen, his lips hot and needy.

“Wanna come for you,” you gasp, your body starting to clench around him tighter and tighter before your head is tilted back against his throat as you cry his name. Your body spasms as arousal coats his cock still buried within you.

“So good for me, so fucking good,” Dieter groans, his thrusts becoming erratic. Before long his eyes roll back and he’s emptying himself into you, hands gripping your chest and cunt, needing you as close as possible.

Slowly your breathing slows and you both grow drowsy. But before you fall asleep you roll until you’re facing him. He looks so beautiful staring back at you with sleepy eyes and his curls spread out on his pillow.

You kiss him gently, hand at his collar before pulling back.

"Dieter, I think you're gonna make an amazing father."

Something about the sincerity in your voice moves him to tears that he has to blink back. He draws you closer to him under the duvet, needing the warmth of your skin, the closeness of your body.

"Do you really mean that?"

"Every word."

Dieter is on a unicorn floaty, half dozing in the late morning sunshine when you ask him.

"Dieter, will you tell me about your mom?"

It comes out of nowhere one day in the pool. You're half stretched out on a purple pool noodle, your lower half submerged in the clear water as you kick lazily. Dieter turns his head when you ask him.

"What about her?"

You shift on your pool noodle, getting comfortable. "What was she like?"

Dieter takes a moment to compose his thoughts. His lower lip tends to stick out when he does it.

"Funny. Smart. Dramatic like me." Dieter grins. "She died when I was in my early twenties and sometimes I wanna be furious about all the time I didn't get to spend with her. But then I count myself lucky I had two decades."

You don't say much to that. You don't know why but you crave more knowledge about Dieter that isn't surface level. You crave more from him, almost like you need to know him better than anyone.

"She's the one who encouraged me to go into acting," Dieter continues. "She worked two jobs so she could pay for my acting classes."

"Really?"

"Yeah. She was so excited when I got the scholarship to RADA," Dieter says dragging his hand through the water.

"She sounds amazing."

"She would have loved you," Dieter says before he can stop himself. For some reason this comment causes your heart to flip.

He looks momentarily lost in thought before turning his gaze to you. His eyes scan the freckles starting on your shoulders, the light that shines in your hair. He's dazzled for a moment before he remembers that he wanted to ask you something.

"What about you? What was your dad like?"

A little smile breaks out over your features. You rarely talk about your father but right now all that comes to you are good memories.

"Smart. Scary smart actually. Like, every time we played wheel of Fortune he'd guess it within like the first two letters," you laugh gently. "He was the first person I told about my Masters program. The first person I told about a lot of stuff. He was always my cheerleader."

"Sounds like a great dad."

"He loved your movies," you say, kicking your feet in the water gently. "He made me sit through a Cliff Beasts marathon one year for his birthday."

Dieter almost falls off his floaty in shock.

"No shit. Really?"

"Yeah," you give a giggle before turning a bit reserved. "He and your mom would have gotten along, I think.”

"Bet they would have been the most amazing grandparents," Dieter says in a faraway voice.

"Definitely."

Dieter shifts in the unicorn, causing it to squeak. His sunglasses are slid back up his nose and he grows somber.

"You must be excited about starting school again," Dieter says tightly hoping the disapproval in his voice isn't obvious.

He looks over at you when you don't reply right away. You look conflicted, almost guilty as you glide a hand through the water in front of you.

"Sometimes I wonder if I'm continuing on with school and everything because that's what I was doing when my dad died," you offer solemnly.

"Are you?"

"Not sure. When he died I thought it was such a natural next step to use my biology background and go into research." A niggle of doubt is there at the back of your head. "But I'm not sure that's what I want anymore."

"So you might not go back?"

Dieter hopes the eagerness in his voice isn't too obvious.

"I don't know," you answer honestly before sliding off the pool noodle and paddling in place. "I'm tired. I think I'm gonna have a nap."

Dieter watches you walk up the steps of the pool, ass twitching as you grab a towel and head into the main house. But that's not what causes the grin to start on his face.

You're not sure about going back to school.

There's hope.

"Just this once," Dieter murmurs, his teeth skating along your pulse point. "C'mon baby."

You’re on all fours, your stomach supported by a variety of pillows. Dieter is behind you, hands on your hips, his body tilting over yours. It’s a Saturday night and he’s just got back from a particularly boring table read.

His hands found yours without question when he got home not long ago, pulling you along with him to bed and whispering into your ear the one thing he’s wanted to hear since he got you pregnant.

You sigh heavily, eyes closed as he sinks into you.

"Please make me come… Daddy.”

Dieter groans lowly in his throat, his cock driving into you deeply. You're too overwhelmed by the sensation to be turned off by the honorific. And if he’d just left it at that, you could have continued without further distraction.

But Dieter is completely turned on by the expression, his hands coming to hold yours to the mattress as he tilts his mouth to your temple.

"Yeah, you made me a Daddy," Dieter breathes against your ear as he thrusts. "You like that? Huh? Daddy fucking you?"

“Not at all,” you cringe, unable to help yourself from laughing. The entire ‘Daddy’/‘Mommy’ thing has never turned you on. “I hate it worse than baby mama.”

Dieter sighs, his motions slowing. "C'mon."

"It's creepy," you tell him. "I don't like the Daddy thing."

"Fine," Dieter grumbles as his motions slow further. "Just wanted a little dirty talk is all."

Dieter’s thrusting has gone from staccato-ed to completely still. You glance over your shoulder at him with your brows raised. His cheeks are red, he’s embarrassed. Dieter rarely gets embarrassed like this and you find it completely endearing.

“I was just trying to have a little fun,” Dieter pouts, about to pull out of you.

“Hey hey, I like fun,” you tell him, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck so he can’t leave in a huff. You start to push back against his length, gratified when you hear him give a muffled whimper into your shoulder.

“Like maybe you tie me up sometime?”

“You’d let me do that?” Dieter asks in awe, his cock slipping further into you. You groan at the sensation, arm dropping as you gain purchase on the mattress once more. His thrusting is increasing in tempo again, stoking that pleasured spot within you.

“Yeah,” you breathe softly. “Yeah, I would.”

And you mean it. You’ve never done it with anyone else, but you would with Dieter. He doesn’t do things harsh and cruel. He touches you reverently. You trust him. “I’d let you tie my wrists and ankles,” you tell him, body arching as he continues to thrust. “Let you have your way with me.”

Dieter gives a guttural choke at the very thought of it. You tied up, spread eagle on his bed so he could go down on you for hours. Pulling delicious fucking noises from you as you writhe for him.

“Would you want that?” you tease, knowing very well he would. “Having me at your mercy, Dieter? Fucking me exactly how you want?”

“Yes,” Dieter almost shouts, “fuck yes I would. Please…. Fuck I…”

His forehead dips to your shoulder blade as he pulls you back and forth against his length, jutting his hips forward. You feel so good, so silken and tight and perfect and he can’t believe this is happening. That you’ve fallen into this comfortably rhythm of give and take. That you can be vulnerable with him like this.

“How would you fuck me?” you ask, feeling your climax approaching. “Tell me, Dieter, I’m so close.”

“Would eat you out for hours. Wouldn’t…. wouldn’t be able to help myself,” Dieter grunts, his cock quickly pressing into you over and over. “Then I’d turn you over...a-and I’d tie your wrists together, mmmph…. And I’d…I’d-“

Dieter doesn’t get to finish that thought because he feels you hit your peak, whining out his name as you climax. Dieter feels your cunt milking his cock and his voice croaks out some garbled gibberish as he empties himself into you.

You fall asleep not long after that, your naked body glowing in the moonlight like some goddess of myth. He realizes he would do anything to keep you like this. Happy and sated and with him.

But mostly, he wants you to want him.

"You said you got into RADA right?"

"Yeah, but I didn't go," Dieter says as he goes over his latest script suggestion from his agent. "Got a reoccurring part in a soap opera a few weeks before I was starting and then the first Cliff Beasts and then, well, you know the rest."

"Do you still have your audition tape?"

"It's on YouTube. Some asshole uploaded it when I got nominated for my Oscar."

"Really? Can we watch it?"

"Knock yourself out."

Dieter watches you waddle to the tv room, excitedly bringing YouTube up on the television and typing Dieter Bravo RADA audition.

You sit on the couch, looking eagerly up at the screen. A very fresh-faced Dieter pops up.

"Oh my gosh you're so young!" You say with a girlish giggle. "So weird to see you without a beard."

Dieter can't help but casually make his way over to the couch, plopping down next to you and watching his younger self.

"Hi my name is Dieter Bravo and I would like to submit myself for acceptance into your program," the young Dieter says, eyes bright and smile big. "Today I'll be performing Gloumov’s monologue from The Diary of a Scoundrel” by Alexander Ostrovsky."

"Your voice is so different."

The young Dieter positions himself slightly to the left of the screen.

"Barely out of puberty." Dieter casts a critical eye over his formerly svelte frame. "And about fifty pounds lighter."

"I like how you look now," you answer honestly. "More manly."

Before Dieter can accept that compliment his younger self is starting the scene.

"Look into my eyes. Can’t you see there that I’d rather die than cause you a moment’s pain?"

Young Dieter takes a moment, his dark eyes beguiling as he stares into the camera, overcome, before continuing. And there on the screen You see the same transformation that you saw back on set in Ireland. Where Dieter becomes the character.

"Oh, if you only knew how many times your sweet, gentle smile has stopped me on the very brink of impropriety," the young Dieter pauses, his eyes shiny.

"But even that day when I forgot myself, you didn’t turn me from the house! Oh, my God, what happiness you’ve given me. What happiness, what happiness!"

A tear is shining on young Dieter's cheek as he gives a soft smile into the camera, a look of relief on his face.

"Holy shit," you breathe, eyes wide. "Dieter that was ... Really good."

"You sound surprised."

"Well I guess ... I've only really seen you in the Cliff Beasts movies. I didn't know you could, you know, act-act."

"You thought I won an Oscar for having a great personality?"

You give him a playful shove as Dieter's younger self comes back to the screen.

"Thank you for your time. Hope I see you in the fall."

Dieter plucks the remote from the coffee table about to change it to something less him. He tires of seeing his face on televisions and phones and sides of buses.

Something captures his attention though, one of the suggested videos on the right.

"Hmmm, there's a video on home births," Dieter says as he navigates the screen. "Wanna watch? Might prep us."

"Sure."

Thirty minutes later Dieter pauses the television, both of you sitting shell-shocked next to one another.

"That was a terrible idea."

"I agree."

The camera had captured everything. In HD detail. Up close. Including a very vivid image of a baby crowning.

"That's what's gonna happen to me?" You say in a high pitched voice, struggling to your feet. "I can't do that!"

You've been reading books ever since the strip turned pink, but actually seeing it is totally different.

"A little late for that," Dieter says from the couch watching you begin to pace back and forth in front of the television.

"That was disgusting," you say with a particularly aggressive jab of your finger towards the television. "Did you know about the placenta? It's like I have to give birth twice!"

"At least it's not twins," Dieter offers weakly. He doesn't miss the irritation that flashes in your eyes.

"Should we watch the rest?"

"Your call," Dieter shrugs. You take a moment, looking at the television paused on a serious looking doctor.

You take your seat next to Dieter once more. "Okay. I'm ready."

Twelve minutes later the movie is shut off indefinitely.

"An episiotomy?" You practically shriek before leaving the room. "If that happens I'm charging you extra, Bravo!"

Your mother starts to come over weekly for coffee. The first time she does you show her the nursery. She's all smiles and wet eyes as she walks around the space. You know she's marveling at the high-end designer items, the impossibly soft sheets and ornately carved crib. You never grew up with expensive things like that.

When the two of you make your way into the kitchen and you make her a coffee she smiles up at you.

"Dieter told me about the charity he's thinking of creating."

You almost drop the espresso cup that you're holding. "You talk with Dieter?"

"Of course," she nods. "He calls me to update me on the baby and texts the odd photo every now and again."

"What?!"

You're struck dumb by this. Your mother barely texts you, and now she's best friends with your boss? She smiles at your discomfiture. But you’re blown away, and a little irritated since you also send your mom updates via email almost daily when she’s not here for her weekly (decaf) coffee checkups and snuggles.

"You fit right in here."

"I'm just part of the scenery until the baby gets here" you smile pouring her the coffee and sliding the mug towards her across the counter. "Then it's back to school and on my way to a PhD for research."

You slice up the carrot cake that Petra made for your visit (along with your help), sliding a plate to your mother and taking one for yourself.

"I wanted to talk to you about that," your mom says, gaze curious. "Why are you doing the PhD thing?"

You sit across from her, brows raised. "You know why, Mom."

"It’s just you never wanted one before your father passed," she says lightly. "You said your Masters was enough."

You don't know why but you feel defensive.

"Well when he died I wanted to do something to honor him I guess. What better way to do that than by helping with the research?"

"Your father was a smart man, he was amazing at his job and so proud of you, you know that," your mother tells you before placing a dry hand over yours. "But his biggest joy in life was being a father."

"What are you getting at?"

"I'm saying I don't want you to dedicate your life to something because you feel like you should. This is your life, my love. You only get one."

"I know."

"There are plenty of ways to give back, to honor your father and still be around to watch your son grow up."

Your hackles immediately rise and she can tell the second they do.

"I'm sorry," she says quickly when she sees the expression on your face. "Never mind. Let's talk about something else."

The rest of the visit flows smoothly, but you can’t ignore the way your mother looks at you whenever you mention Dieter.

"Taco Bell."

Dieter is woken out of a deep sleep by your lips at his ear. You're curled up together in his bed, your belly prodding his lower back.

"A Burrito supreme and a large Baja blast… And Cinnamon Twists…And four fire sauce packets."

You're warm against his spine, voice a soft whisper huffed along his earlobe. He’s dazed, his eyes blurry as he attempts to understand what’s happening.

"Huh?"

"I need Taco Bell," you urge. "Please?"

A quick glance at his phone tells him that it's nearing 2:00 a.m.

"S'too late for the delivery apps, baby," he murmurs, patting your thigh companionably as if the conversation is now over.

For the most part, Dieter can anticipate and appease your cravings. Usually through Petra or food delivery apps. But at almost two in the morning he has access to neither.

You don't care.

You've been tossing and turning for hours because all you can think about is the beans and tomato and beef... You're practically drooling already. You pat his bottom politely, trying to signal he needs to get out of bed.

"The drive thru is open."

"It's late."

"But I need it," you whine.

You have no interest in attempting to drive one of Dieter's fancy foreign cars he keeps in the large garage. And it's too late to call a town car so you're stuck.

"No one ever needs Taco Bell. Bringing that shit in here is offensive," he mutters into his pillow. "S'full of filler and chemicals."

You give a soft exhale through your nose, about to flop onto your back in defeat when something occurs to you. Something else that you're craving as well.

Dieter is drifting back to sleep when he feels the light graze of your hand sliding over his hip. He thinks he's imagining it, but as the sensation continues his cock begins to stir. He goes rigid as your hand slides under his boxers, fingertips teasing his warm length as he groans.

"You do this for me and I'll do something for you when you get back," you purr, tongue coming to trace his lobe. "Daddy."

Dieter jumps out of the bed and nearly trips in his pursuit to grab his car keys as he simultaneously tugs on his sweatpants.

"You want cheesy potatoes too?"

When you wake up at seven months pregnant and see your reflection one morning you almost burst into tears.

You’re standing in front of the dresser mirror in your bikini, the only one left that fits. Your tits are practically bursting out of the cups, the bottoms tie at your hips dig into your flesh. You feel huge, you feel ugly and you feel not yourself.

There’s a knock at the bedroom door. Dieter peeks around, already dressed for the pool, a pink towel slung over his freckled shoulder.

“Swim time?”

Usually you swim by yourself, but Dieter has a rare free morning this week and he wants to take advantage. It had seemed like such a nice suggestion at breakfast, but now you balk, wishing you had anything else to wear but your fucking bikini.

Before it hadn’t mattered, but today you feel gross. You want to cover up as much as possible and you reach for your towel. But Dieter’s eyes are already drifting over your body, his cock stirring.

Dieter takes in the way your stomach protrudes out in the bikini, a beacon of fertility; his son nestled there safe within your body. He moves into the room, the towel dropping without thought onto the floor behind him.

"You're exquisite," Dieter breathes, his hand coming to rest on your belly. You feel his thumb gently rub, his eyes sparkling as he continues to stare at you.

"I look disgusting," you say cringing away from him. Dieter won't let go of your wrist as you try to flee.

"Are you fucking insane?"

“Dieter stop,” you say, wincing away from him and trying to pull your wrist out of his warm grip.

"You don't believe me," Dieter states flatly.

"No I don't," you reply sharply. "It's what everyone tells pregnant women so they don't feel shitty about looking like a house."

Dieter blinks at you as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing before he’s shaking his head. His hands slide to your plush hips, turning you back to face the dresser. His eyes have blown pitch black, and his hands can’t stop from running along your body.

"Look at her," Dieter groans into your ear. "Look at that sexy thing in the mirror."

"Dieter-"

"Keep looking," he urges you, hand gently forcing your face in the direction of the mirror before his hands slide up your bikini top over your breasts, pebbling the nipples. You swallow at the sensation, not even protesting when he unties it at the back, letting the colorful fabric drop to the ground.

You stand there in nothing but your bikini bottoms, cheeks flushed as Dieter groans deliciously behind you. His hands come to cup your tits, thumbs grazing the protruding nipples.

“See her gorgeous fucking tits?”

You cringe away from the mirror, hating how you look. But if Dieter is lying about how turned on he is, he’s a better actor than you ever gave him credit for because his cock is swelling against your lower back, stiff and pulsing.

You let him untie your bikini bottoms, finding yourself already slick between your legs when they drop to the ground along with everything else. You watch in the mirror as Dieter sheds his swim shorts before gently urging you to place your forearms on the dresser.

You can only watch his face as he notches his cock at the entrance to your pussy, rubbing the head there and gathering the copious amounts of slick. His eyes flick from your face to your cunt as if he can’t decide which he needs to see more.

“Keep watching yourself, beautiful,” He rasps as he sinks into you, cock thick and full as you gasp. You’ll never tire of that sensation, the first thrust of his cock inside you. Your head falls forward but Dieter’s hand is there, gently making a fist in your hair and urging your face to the mirror.

"See how beautiful she looks when she's taking my cock?"

You can't see shit. Your belly is ballooned so far out you can barely handle it. But you look at your face and you see the heavy eyes and parted lips. You see the way you arch into Dieter’s body and how he towers over you and yeah... It's hot.

"Cock drunk," Dieter tells you with a swell of pride. "All sexy and sleepy looking."

His hands come to brace yours on the dresser, his dark eyes fixed on yours in the mirror.

"You see her?" Dieter pants, teeth gritting. "You see her tits bouncing? Feel her sweet pussy taking my cock? She's fucking magnificent. How can you say she’s not the sexiest thing alive?"

The way he talks about your reflection makes you almost jealous until you remember that it's you he's talking about.

"You're so fucking gorgeous," Dieter babbles as he nears his orgasm. “Never been more turned on in my fucking life.”

And he means it. He means every fucking word. He can’t stop touching you, kissing your shoulder, your cheek, your mouth when you tilt back to face him. You whimper his name when he starts to fuck into you harder and harder.

“Come deep, Dieter,” you grunt. “Fuck me full.”

He does with one final thrust, painting your insides as he cries out your name.

Despite this interlude you still suffer with crisis of confidence at times in the coming weeks. Your back is in constant pain. You waddle when you walk. You've never felt less attractive.

Dieter is obsessed. He can't stop finding reasons to touch you, brushing your lower back when he passes you in the hall.

All pretenses of employer and employee are gone. You’re basically in his bed every night, fucking him whenever you get the chance. Neither of you observe it outright, but it’s there lingering under the surface every time he asks if you’re ready to go to bed. It’s there when you shower together, washing each other’s hair. It’s there when you both murmur good morning and let him kiss you languidly over coffee.

When he catches you napping in the sunshine on his couch he's so taken with you that you wake up to find his curly head between your legs and his mouth bringing you to a gentle orgasm. You keen against his lips, hands going to card through his hair as you come.

You know why he's like this. It's because things are coming rapidly to an end. Once the baby is here this all ends. This ready access to sex, you lounging around his house. He'll have a newborn and you'll have a new life. You won't see him. You'll have your money, you'll be going back to school, and your mom's mortgage is paid off.

Dieter knows how you feel about snuggling and he goes to pull away.

"Don't," you say, arms outstretched, mouth twisted into a pout. Dieter stares at you in surprise, big puppy dog eyes wide. It makes you melt. He wraps himself around you, face nuzzling into your neck. The two of you snuggle there as you flick on the television to a Christmas special.

Just when you think Dieter is becoming a mature and sensible adult you feel him sigh heavily behind you.

“I'm not watching that depressing Christmas movie!" Dieter insists when It’s a Wonderful Life starts up. "I wanna watch the Muppet Christmas Carol!"

He can’t understand why you can’t stop laughing.

One quiet morning with Dieter filming audio reshoots for the Rogue Duchess you sit at the kitchen table, pensive. You stare at the pro and con list you've made sitting in front of you.

Ever since the conversation with your mother you've been second guessing your next steps post birth. Are you just doing it because you think you should be? Are you doing it because that's what you were doing when your dad died? Are you doing it because of misplaced guilt?

Your dad had been so proud of you, telling everyone about your Masters problem and how you were well on your way to a PhD like him.

He talked fondly about having two doctors and a nurse in the house, joking that your home would become like Grey's Anatomy.

Even then you'd felt a bit of the pressure to perform. To pursue a PhD to make him proud. In all your focus and pursuit you'd never really stopped to ask yourself... Is this what you want?

Pros - honor dad - get to be called doctor at the end Cons - no social life - have to move to Sacramento for several years - not guaranteed a job I like when I graduate - away from mom - STRESS - possible burnout - job market is competitive - won't necessarily make me happy

You need to add something else. Something that's been in the back of your head screaming for your attention. You raise your pen to the paper, adding your final item to the con list.

- Too far away from Dieter and Bubble.

And then a sentence you write and then immediately erase before crumpling the entire paper up in a ball.

- I'm in love with Dieter.

[8:43am] D: It hasn't even started and I'm bored out of my fucking mind

[8:44am]: Dieter it'll be fun.

[8:44am] D: no it won't. I HATE these fucking marathon interview days

Hours and hours of sitting with Mia and the rest of the crew talking about the upcoming film being released in a few months. He's covered in concealer and powder, his stylist has him in some absurdly patterned shirt that itches and he desperately needs a cigarette.

[8:45am] D: I wanna be at home with you---

He hesitates before deleting that last message. He can't send you messages like that. You're not dating, no matter how much it feels like you are. He feels twitchy now, all out of sorts as he thinks about you home and waiting for him.

He sneaks off to the corner of the hotel, hoping he can get off a few puffs before Diane wrangles him back inside.

He lights his cigarette, puffing away. He scans the space to make sure it's just hotel employees before he brings out his phone, going through his photos. He lands on the one from the other night, you mid laugh as the Jenga tower falls. You look so happy, so at ease.

He’s so ridiculously in love with you.

How can he let you go? How can he go from seeing you every day to you becoming a stranger? You've got one foot out the door at all times and he doesn’t want to hold you back from your dreams.

It was so easy to play house these past few months. To pretend like you were his. He was such a fool.

"Spare one?"

Dieter fumbles the phone, shoving it a hastily back into his jacket pocket. Its Mia dressed in a sleek black number, her makeup and hair perfect. She motions to the cigarette between his long fingers.

"My last one," he says ruefully.

Mia holds out her manicured fingers in his direction. "A quick puff then."

Dieter relents, handing it off to her. She takes a long drag, enjoying the curl of the smoke as the two of them stand shoulder to shoulder in silence. It feels awkward being together alone, the two of them haven't spoken since Prague. Dieter feels the need to fill the silence.

"How's Sam?"

"He's good," Mia nods. "He's not secretly in love with his assistant so it's already much better than my last relationship."

Dieter can't help but let out a small chuckle at that. Mia has been seen all over the tabloids in recent weeks with her hunky new Scottish co-star. Mia looks at Dieter with a small tilt of her head, squinting up at him.

"You tell her yet?"

"Tell who what?"

Mia takes another drag off the cigarette, giving him a leveling look. "You know who and you know what."

Dieter says nothing, watching as Mia holds the cigarette aloft. She gives a dramatic sign when she sees. He's going to make her have to say it.

"Have you told your PA that you're fucking crazy about her," Mia says flatly. "That you want to marry her and have tons of little Bravo's running around."

"I do not."

"Maybe just the one little Bravo then," Mia smiles, handing him his cigarette. He feels her heavy gaze on him and he knows that she deserves answers. He put her through a lot and she has been gracious as hell about it.

He sighs heavily before twisting to face her head-on. "No, I haven't."

"Why not?"

"It’s…complicated."

"What's complicated about love?"

"She told me she doesn't want to be a part of the baby's life."

"Back when she thought you only wanted to be together because you got her pregnant."

"She doesn't want me."

"Dieter I see how she looks at you. The girl is utterly besotted."

"Might want to tell her that," Dieter huffs in forced amusement.

Despite all the time you’ve spent together, you’ve really never made it clear how you feel about Dieter. Yes, you like the sex and you laugh with him. But you’ve never actually made overtures, talked about the future. You think of a future that doesn’t include him or your son.

Mia pauses for a moment, thinking about something. Her eyes scan the vicinity and before Dieter can do anything Mia grips him by the collar and plants a chaste kiss to his lips. Dieter pulls back immediately, his face cloudy.

"What the fuck-"

"You'll thank me," Mia promises.

He goes to say something to her about how uncool that was but a text from you sails in, almost as if fate is giving him the prompt he needs.

[8:58am]: If I wanted to postpone school for a little bit, do you think I could still stay with you? I could pay rent and everything. I think I just want to reconsider some things. Dunno if school is where I want to be right now.

“Fuck yes,” Dieter breathes, re-reading the message several times to make sure he’s not reading it wrong. You want to stay. You want to stay longer with him. He's still staring at your text with a goofy smile on his face when Mia’s voice sounds out beside him.

“Dieter, c'mon! Interviews are starting.”

He shoves his phone into his pocket, his grin bright as he follows Mia back inside the hotel for the marathon of interviews.

You want to stay.

The alert comes through on your phone, the setting still stuck on sending you Dieter Bravo related news items.

You're relaxing on one of the chairs in the backyard, one hand gently rubbing your belly, the other holding your latest crime thriller novel.

When the alert goes off its instinct to shut the book and retrieve the phone from the table beside you. Normal to scan the links that show up.

BRAV-ROWE ROMANCE BACK ON?

You sit up slowly, holding your expansive belly and grunting angrily. You continue reading as you walk inside, pacing around the kitchen.

Bravo, 40, and Rowe, 25, were spotted earlier today stealing kisses between interviews for their upcoming release The Rogue Heiress. What’s setting tongues wagging is that Rowe has also been recently seen getting cozy with Sam Heughen, 43, back in her native England only last week. Was Sam just a distraction from her real feelings for Bravo? Or is this just a cleverly executed publicity stunt for their upcoming film?

You slam your phone down onto the counter, irritation flooding you all over.

What the fuck?

Here you are pining over this guy and he's off kissing his ex?

Even their couple name is adorable. It fits. Your cheeks are flaming red at the realization that you fell for it. You fell for his lines, for his sweet eyes and sweeter mouth. You let yourself get swept up in a romance that isn't even real.

Dieter is an actor. He knows how to fake anything.

"I'm so fucking stupid," you say shaking your head. Bubble gives a gentle kick, drawing your attention back to the present.

“Sorry honey. Mom’s not stupid. Just fucking naive.”

It's dark when Dieter finally makes it home, shrugging of his jacket and toeing off his shoes. He wants to go to bed, to hold you after this long and boring day.

But you're not in bed. You're seated on the couch with the TV off. Your crossword book is beside you but you don't look like you've been working on it. Dieter feels a smile break out over his features at the sight of you in his home.

"Hi baby," he murmurs as he approaches, confused when you slowly turn to face him with a furious look on your face. "What’s wrong?"

“Have anything to tell me?”

“Uh…no?”

He watches you throw your head back and give an obviously false laugh. “No?”

“No.”

“Kiss any old girlfriends lately, Dieter?”

Dieter is stunned. How the hell did you find out about that? "How-"

"It's all over TMZ and now all the other news outlets," you say, teeth clenching. Dieter thinks about the way Mia checked around them before kissing him. You take a seat on the couch, arms crossed over your chest.

"I didn't just go kiss her," Dieter defends, coming to sit next to you. "She kissed me."

"Didn't really seem like you were fighting her on it."

You hold up your phone where the picture of Mia kissing Dieter is blown up. It's clear you've been studying the picture. Mia’s hand is on his collar, Dieter’s hand is on hers, but only so that he could pull it off. But to the outside viewer this looks very intimate.

“It’s not what it looks like.”

“No? Because what it looks like is you kissing your ex girlfriend.”

Dieter takes in the red of your cheeks and the way you’re clenching your jaw and despite everything a little thrill goes through him.

"Why are you so upset?" Dieter purrs.

"I'm not," you insist.

You feel furious and out of sorts and you can't tell him why because you'll sound like a jealous girlfriend which you absolutely aren't.

"You sound upset."

"Well I'm not." You chew at your bottom lip angrily. "It's just rude you know? Sleeping with me and seeing Mia. Does she-"

"I'm not seeing Mia," Dieter interjects.

"I have eyes Dieter," you scoff.

"She gave me a quick peck after we talked about Sam Heughan, her boyfriend, who she is in a committed relationship with."

"Yeah right."

Dieter stops a moment to take in your flushed cheeks, bright eyes and the arms that cross in front of you. You don’t want him to be seeing Mia and that can only mean one thing and that makes Dieter feel warm all over. His arm is on the back of the couch, almost behind your shoulders.

"You're jealous."

"I'm not," you insist, face heating.

"Then why are you acting like this?" He probes, shifting closer to you on the couch. "Tell me the truth."

He’s so close and he smells so good and you just fucking… you just…

"Because you're mine."

It comes spilling out of you like a dam, a rush, a torrent of words that once said cannot be taken back. But for once you don’t want them taken back. You want him to know exactly what you mean, especially as you launch yourself towards him, your arms going around his neck, your stomach plump between the two of you. Dieter is grinning so widely his face might crack as he gazes at you on his lap.

"I'm yours?"

"Yes," you all but growl, pushing him backwards until his broad shoulders hit the seat cushions of the couch and you begin straddling his prone body. His cock is rock hard through his pants, pressing into your core through your panties.

You tug them to the side, not even bothering to take them off. Dieter is already sliding off his pants and boxers, smiling up at you eagerly. He's pulsing between your thighs, hissing with pleasure as you notch him at your soaked entrance.

"Not hers," you grunt, sliding down his length with an aching groan escaping both of you. "No one else's. Just mine. You understand me, Bravo?"

You're staking your claim and Dieter is turned on out of his mind. You've never been possessive over him before, never been so commanding. Never been so clear in your desire for him.

"Yes!"

He wishes he could hold you in his arms, but being laid out flat on his couch while you ride him isn't exactly torture. Your pussy milks his cock, a vice -like grip around his thick length.

"I'm yours," Dieter repeats, thrusting up into your wet heat. "Just yours, baby."

"You only fuck me," you command, starting to bounce up and down in his lap the best you can with your swollen belly. His expression is pure delight, his wide palm on your hips.

"Yes."

"Only I make you c-come," you try to sound authoritative but your hips are rolling over his and he feels so good. You're barrelling towards an orgasm with every husky assurance from him.

"Only you," Dieter assures you, hands tightening around your gyrating hips. "And I only wanna make you come, baby. Only want you in my bed. Only you."

He's rambling and your eyes are cheating to the back of your head. You crest so fast, hands flying to the back of the couch so you can steady yourself. His hands slide up under your shirt and go to your breasts, pinching your pebbled nipples as you keen.

"C'mon baby," Dieter encourages as he watches your head tilt back. "Take what's yours."

"Mine," you pant as you start to come, head lolling forward. Your body starts to give small little twitches as you groan. "Mine, mine, mine."

"Yours," Dieter breathes, gazing up at you. "Only yours."

He feels you come, soaking his cock with your release. He groans at the sight of your fucked out expression, your hips still undulating.

"Now you," you command in a soft mewl. "Come for me, Dieter. Give my what's mine."

Your hands go to brace yourself on his chest, your hips lifting only to slide harshly back down, taking him as deep as possible. He feels a pleasurable stripe go up his spine.

"It's all yours," he offers before his own pleasure overtakes him at the sight of your heavy-lidded expression. He comes deep, deeper than he ever has and he does so whimpering your name.

You're both panting and you groan slightly as you pull yourself off of him, sitting back against the couch. Dieter rests there a few moments, his softened cock resting against his belly. He's smiling up at the ceiling like a madman.

Then he's stripping off all his clothes and standing before urging you to do the same.

"I'm fucking you in the shower," Dieter tells you as he pulls your t-shirt up over your head. "I want you to give me another one."

But you don't just give just him another one because it doesn't end in the shower. Or on the kitchen counter after a midnight snack. But in his bed where he urges you to the end of the bed and fucks you slowly standing next to the mattress, your thighs spread beautifully for him as his cock lazily saws in and out of you.

His hands grip your thighs tightly, urging you to bounce against his hips. Your bodies move together, the pleasure increasing.

“So good,” you croon, your forehead dotted with sweat. “You feel so perfect, Dieter.”

You’re babbling, high on the pleasure of his cock and his nearness. Dieter revels in it, the way you’re unabashedly giving him praise, the way you don’t stop him or shy away from him whispering sweet nothings into your neck.

“And I’m all yours,” he promises. You almost think you can read love in his eyes as they gaze down at you.

“I’m all yours,” you tell him back without thought.

His thrusts increase, his hands holding you tightly, fingers splayed over your clit. He teases and rubs until you’re on the brink of another orgasm and you finally come in tandem, both of you trembling.

“That’s my girl,” he groans, kissing behind your ear as you shiver.

You don’t tell him you’re not his girl because right now you feel like you could be.

You wake up the next morning in Dieter’s bed with one of his legs wedged in between yours, his arm draped over your middle and his forehead against your neck. It feels right and it feels perfect and as your sleep clears…A mixture of shame and disbelief overtakes your body.

What the fuck was that last night?

You'd been almost mad with rage at the sight of that TMZ pic. And when he'd come onto the couch you'd just felt this strange possessiveness overtake you.

Just want you in my bed. Only you.

Those words were so nice to hear. So gratifying. And you believed him about Mia and the photo. It had been all too easy to move past it, to allow him to lick into your mouth as he fucked you. You glance over your shoulder to see him sleeping, his hair falling into his closed eyes.

Mine.

No. Not mine.

He's not yours. He can't be.

He's Dieter Bravo and you're you. Thinking that somehow you could be together is a delusion. Dieter just hates being alone. And he knows that being a father is a huge deal. He knows that it's all going to rest on his shoulders and he's looking for a lifeline as your due date grows rapidly closer.

He doesn't actually have feelings for you.

It's just that Mia might be out of the picture and he's clinging to whatever is in the vicinity - today it happens to be you. Tomorrow it'll be whatever model he's paired with at the next photo shoot.

You've known him long enough to know his moods and his ever changing interests. In a couple of months when the baby is here and you're in Sacramento he'll probably have forgotten your name.

The thought hurts if you linger on it. He's just clinging to a lifeline and you can't be around when he does inevitably move onto the next woman because it'll break your heart.

You need to get the apartment now. You need to find out where you're going to be staying next semester. You need to be planning your life post birth.

He didn’t even write back to your text yesterday even though it said he’d read it. The one asking if you could stay longer, that you were considering postponing school. And you know why – because this wasn’t the plan. Because Dieter’s interest is waning and you know it.

You pull yourself from the bed, out of Dieter’s warm arms and you try your best not to look back at his still sleeping form as you tiptoe out of the room.

You return sometime in the afternoon to Dieter storming around the kitchen, looking frantic. He barrels towards you, tugging your hands that you quickly slide out of his grip.

“Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

“I had it on silent.”

"Where were you?"

"I was at the library," you say as if it were the most obvious answer. Dieter looks like he’s been fisting his hands through his hair all day.

"You're not supposed-"

"I know I’m not supposed to leave, but I wore sunglasses and no one recognized me." You put your purse down on the ground. "I just needed somewhere quiet to organize my thoughts. I needed to research apartments without distractions."

"Apartments," Dieter repeats slowly.

"Yeah, for next semester," You say breezily as you push past him and make your way into the kitchen. He follows hot on your heels like a desperate puppy all big eyes and furrowed brows.

"Next semester? I thought you were thinking of postponing?"

He watches you glance around in the fridge before pulling out a bowl of blueberries that Petra has left for you.

"No point," you say, popping one in your mouth. "I decided I need to get focused and start as soon as possible. That reminds me though; I don't think I can really stay long after the baby is born. I'll want to get to Sacramento as soon as possible."

Dieter looks as if you've punched him. He's gone pale, his large eyes luminous. He's sagging against the counter as if his own body can't support him anymore.

"What? Why?"

"I told you, I need to focus," you tell him, popping the blueberries back into the fridge. "And I know that I don't get paid until the Bubble is born but I'm wondering if I can get half now? I need to put a down payment on an apartment out there."

"You're buying an apartment in Sacramento?"

"Of course," you say, taking a deep breath. "I'll be in school for a few years; the rest of my Masters then the PhD, then my residency out there. Makes sense."

"But ... You weren’t even sure about it," Dieter says weakly.

"That was before I really thought about it," You say, shrugging. "I can't sit around my boss's house all day organizing his next manicure and making sure his latest fuck buddies sign NDA's."

Dieter straightens immediately, his jaw clenching.

Too far.

As soon as you say it you wish you could take it back. It's an ugly, unfair thing to say and you both know it. But you feel exposed, like a raw nerve.

Dieter feels everything inside him twisting hideously. He was so fucking deluded to think you'd stay, to think you'd fallen for him the same way he has for you. He wants to scream at his idiocy.

How are you just so okay with this? How can you walk away like the last several months have meant nothing?

Dieter can only stare at you, his eyes going from wide to narrowed. His hand curls into a loose fist at his side, the other still braced on the counter.

“There's a contract," Dieter all but growls. "You get your money once the baby is born."

"I know,” you say quickly. “It's just that the tuition is due this month to hold my spot for next semester."

"That's not my problem."

You take a step back, brows knitted. You weren’t expecting that.

“But-“

"You signed a contract stipulating that you wouldn't get the money until the baby is born," Dieter croaks. "So there's your answer."

He turns from you, heading down the hallway to his art studio. You follow close behind, waddling quickly to keep up.

"Dieter I can't afford the place without that money."

"Read the contract," he snaps. "You signed it."

He quickly moves into the studio, slamming the door behind him.

He hears you on the other side of the door, breathing heavily. He’s worried you’re crying.

Finally he hears you shuffle away and he moves to the window, sitting in the chair he reserved for you when you return home with your son. He imagined painting both of you, the light bathing you both in a dreamy glow.

Dieter is devastated, his head resting heavily in his hands as he fights back the urge to sob.

What the fuck happened? One minute you were insisting he was yours, your bodies working together beautifully. The next second you're telling him you're halfway out the door.

You don’t want to be a mother. You never did. You always made that perfectly clear. He was just too besotted to understand. He looks around his art room, feeling a fury building within him. What the fuck has this all been for? Why the fuck is he so fucking stupid? Why did he have to go and fall in love with you?

He needs drugs. He needs alcohol. He needs something to take this stabbing pain away. And just as his trembling hand goes to his phone to call up Corey Brigham he glances up at the painting he's been currently working on.

It's an oil painting image from a dream he had recently. One where he stands in the ocean up to his knees, the wind gentle and the day mild. Dieter is holding you back against him, his head over your shoulder, both of you gazing down at the tiny infant in your arms.

And there's his son, eyes closed, a soft smile on his face. The image of what Dieter things he’ll look like.

My son.

The cell phone is pushed back into his pocket. He's not living just for himself anymore. He's got a son he will put before himself in all ways. His son will not grow up with an absent father like Dieter did.

All of a sudden his studio door bursts open. You look harried as you stride in, fixing him with a glare. He knows you want to tell him off and he wishes you didn't look so beautiful when you’re angry.

"You're not supposed to be in here," Dieter insists, feeling a stab of anxiety go through him as you walk towards him. He leaps up from the chair, almost tripping over himself in his desire to usher you out of the room.

“We were in the middle of a conversation,” you snap. “You can’t just-“

Your cutting remarks die before they can be completely formed because as you glance around the room your eyes widen in shock.

Dieter’s art room has always been a mix of canvas, paint spills, old coffee cups and grotesque sculptures. But right now all of the painted canvases are positioned around the room, sketches lining the drafting table under the window.

And they are all of you.

Ones of you with your belly swollen, sleeping on the couch. Others of you cross legged at the table hunched over your laptop. There's one of you with your face serene as you lay the bathtub, that night Dieter and you talked for hours. Snapshots of time, your belly at different stages.

"Are these..." You go over to a stack of sketches. “Are these all me?”

Dieter is silent, his eyes drifting to your face when you take in the portrait he did of the three of you. Your hand goes to your belly instinctively as you take in the image.

“I always imagined he’d look like that,” you say with a soft little huff.

Your eyes go to the drafting table, sketches in charcoal sticking out to you. Some are dated as far back as Ireland, some even before that. Your fingers linger on one in particular of you chewing your bottom lip in thought, a pencil raised between your fingers. You glance at the date.

“This was before I was pregnant.” You trail off, gaze moving back to his face. "How long have you been sketching me?"

Dieter shrugs and for the first time since you've known him he looks truly embarrassed.

"A while."

You move slowly towards him. "Why?"

He sighs, only steps away from you now.

"Isn't it obvious?"

You swallow, feeling your heart pound a devastating rhythm. No, this can’t be real. He can’t be suggesting what you think he is. And yet as he stands there, dark eyes wet you can’t help but wish for it to be real.

“I'm crazy about you,” Dieter confesses.

No, not confesses. That would suggest he wanted to keep it hidden, when it’s anything but.

“I just want to be with you all the time. I want to share everything with you. My life, my home, my everything. I want you here in this house with our son. I want to support you going back to school. I want to make you happy in any way I can but I want you to do it as mine.”

You want to say something, to say anything to this grand romantic speech, but your throat has tightened and your mouth gone dry. All you can do is stand there, staring at him like a pregnant idiot.

“And I know that’s selfish to say and I know it’s useless because you don’t love me back but I-I just needed you to know before you left,” Dieter continues, tears wetting the side of his cheek.

“You don’t need to love me back. Our son is a piece of you and if that’s all I can have of your love, that’s enough for me. He’s more than enough. I just. . . I needed you to know the truth, all of it. I fell for you way before you got pregnant, but after this time together I just, I’m...I love you.”

And now his tears are brushed away by the back of his hand and he looks as if he’s going to turn away from you, overcome with everything that he’s just admitted.

You can barely see through the tears in your eyes. All the feelings that have been swirling within you compel you to pitch forward, your hands outstretched, his name on your lips.

You’re about to cross the room, desperate for his touch when a stab of pain goes through you sharply, causing you to almost come to your knees. You begin doubling over with a cry as Dieter runs to close the distance between you, his hand immediately on your back.

“What is it, baby?”

Dieter is confused when he sees an overwhelming amount of clear liquid running down your legs. Your eyes are round, wide and terrified when you look up to him.

"Dieter, I think I'm going into labor."

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#dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo fanfic #pedro pascal characters

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dsireland86 · 2 days

Text

LONG HOT SUMMER

Folio x Reader

Summer in the South is too much for some of them, but not for the two if you. In the middle of the tour, he finds a place that reminds him of you and takes you there. He just wanted you to know that he thinks about you, but fate had other plans. What was supposed to be quick and simple turns into hot, deep, and sensual

Authors Note: Sequel in the works

TAGS: @embracethereaper42, @foliosgirl, @broken0mens, @pathion, @embracethereaper42

It was so freaking hot you swear you could fry an egg on concrete. You don't mind it, the muggy humid heat of Louisiana being something you grew up in as a kid. Your Grandparents used to live here and you and your brother would spend almost every long hot summer with them. So it was something you could handle. But this band; absolutely not. Their northern nature made them divas when it came to the heat and never, in your life, have you heard so much complaining and whining from a bunch of guys as you have in the last seventy-two hours. It was so bad you wanted to glue your earbuds in just to get a few minutes of peace and quiet.

The only one who seemed to handle it as well as you was Folio, and that’s because he has what your granddad used to call “fisherman’s skin” ; special skin that allows them to adapt to any climate. You knew he wasn’t serious, but now that you think about it, maybe he was right. The memory makes you smile as you enter the tour bus. Nicholas is the only one here, sprawled out on the couch in only a pair of shorts. “It’s too hot, Y/N.” The corners of your mouth lift at his confession. “You’re a diva, Nick.” He chuckles. “I am when it comes to this freaking heat. I’ll take Virginia weather any day over this shit.”

Shaking your head, you move towards the bunks, yours specifically, and dig into your duffle bag in search of a new shirt to change into. You settle for the dark green tank and quickly change, feeling refreshed once you're done. After a few sprays of your favorite body spray you turn around and walk right into Noah’s chest, throwing your hand over your mouth to stifle your scream.

“Fucking hell, Noah! Seriously!” Playfully, you slap him in the stomach and push him out of the way. “It’s not my fault you’re blind.” Your eyes widen. “I didn’t even hear you!” “Okay, well then deaf, too.” “Eat shit, Noah.” “Fuck you, Princess.” You narrow your eyes in a scowl. You hate when Noah calls you that. “I’ve been trying too, but she won't let me,” Folio says, coming up behind you and grabbing you by the hips. He plants a quick kiss on the side of your neck, making your heart skip a beat. The idea of you and Folio together has always made your stomach flutter. He’s been your crush ever since your brother introduced you to him years ago and no other guy has ever compared to him. You thought by now you would’ve told him how you felt, but since he’s never said how he feels about you, you’ve kept your feelings to yourself. Others have told you it’s obvious how Folio feels, but you aren’t one to just assume because of how he acts. Folio has always been a fun, playful kind of guy, and reading the signs wrong would be an utter embarrassment for you.

He kisses the side of your head, and tickles your sides, making you squeal and you elbow him in the stomach. He keels over pretending to be hurt. “Y/N, baby, please,” Folio begs, falling to the floor while clutching his stomach. “Fuck, you hurt me,” he complains, trying to hid his smile. You cross your arms as you hover over him. “Sucks for you,” you tease. He sticks his bottom out, pretending to pout, and lowers his head. That’s when the long tattooed arms snake around you, trapping you tightly against the body they belong to, and you know you’re in trouble. “Hmmm, my little bug is caught in a trap,” Noah whispers in your ear. “Let go of me Noah, or I'll kick you where it hurts most.” Your aggressive attempt makes Noah smile and he chuckles while locking one of his legs around yours. All, if any, advantages you have on him are officially gone now. “I'd like to see you try, Princess.” You growl in frustration. “Stop calling me that! You know I hate it.” Noah laughs again. “I don’t have anything else to call you! Unless you want me to call you a pigeon, or maybe piglet.” You grunt and try to break away. “Or how about little fox or maybe little fluffy bunny? Fluffy bunny! There it is!” Growling, you slam your foot down on top of Noah’s, hoping it will make him let you go, but it does absolutely nothing except make him laugh more.

After a few more worthless attempts to break free, you know you’re not going to win this game so you go limp, letting yourself become dead weight in Noah’s arms. “Uh, Folio, I think I broke your girl,” he says and you smile at Noah’s choice words. Folio grabs his sunglasses that fell and instantly jumps to his feet and comes to your rescue. ”You break my girl, I’ll break your face,” he asserts as Noah brings you back to your feet. You catch Folio’s reference about you and it leaves you wondering. His smile is so infectious though as it spreads across his face and you can’t help but smile back. “You're lucky today, Princess,” Noah smirks, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead before letting you go. “You’re still a jerk,” you say with a grin. “You’re still a bitch,” he replies, poking you in the belly. Not everyone is lucky enough to get Noah's playful side, but you are. That says a lot.

“Come with me,” Nick says softly in your ear, bringing you back to reality. He slides his sunglasses on and takes your hand and leads you down the steps of the bus. The hot, humid air hits you the second you step outside, making the first outside breath difficult.

“Wait, hold up, where are you two going?” Matt questions. My eyes shift from Folio to Matt. “There’s something I want to show Y/N. It's not far.” Matt’s eyes bounce over the two of you then narrow. “Just for a few minutes Matt. We’ll be right back and then we can leave.” Matt smiles. “If I were you Y/N, I'd be worried if he makes it last only a few minutes.” You snicker, holding your hand over your mouth and turning away from Matt’s gaze. “Oh my god, will you quit already, we're not sleeping together,” Folio states. Your cheeks are red and Jolly notices. “Then why is Y/N blushing like that?” Folio turns and looks at you, grinning at the sight of your very red cheeks. He knows how easily embarrassed you can get sometimes, but it’s one thing he really loves about you. It gives him a reason to get protective. Jolly is laughing, but you can’t even look him in the face. “I’m just playing Y/N.” He detects the embarrassment in you and pulls you in for a hug. You wrap your arms around his waist as he lays a kiss on the top of your head. “Alright, can we go now,” Folio pleads with eagerness in his voice. It has you wondering what could possibly be so important.

“Fine, twenty minutes. Don’t be late or we’re leaving both your asses,” Matt forewarns us, climbing up into the bus after Jolly. You and Nick both laugh.“No you won’t, Matt. You need us too much.” You tug on Folio’s arm, and he gets the hint, leading you further away from the bus.“Don't you hurt my little sister, Folio. I will fuck you up,” Matt yells behind you.

“Will you please slow down!” you giggle, trying your best to keep up with Nick as he pulls you through the woods, practically running. “I can’t. We only have twenty minutes; less now. I want to make sure you have enough time to enjoy it.” “Enjoy what,” huffing a laugh. He doesn't answer, so you stop suddenly, letting your hand slip out of Nick’s. A loud clap of thunder rattles the sky as he turns to you, noticing the enigmatic look in your eyes, “What?”

You can’t see his eyes because of how dark his glasses are, but you know he’s staring at you, drinking you in like water. You don't know if it's the thunder or the sound of your heart that's so loud but when he closes the gap that separates your body from his, running his calloused fingers down your cheek and his thumb over your lips, you sigh, knowing it's definitely your heart. Fidgeting with your fingers, your knees want to buckle, but you try your hardest to keep your composure. Something is very different about the way Folio is acting around you and it should make you question his intention, but you don’t. You welcome it instead, like the thunderstorm coming you know is coming, with open arms.

As you gaze at him, barely able to breath, you let your eyes wander over his face, taking in the little things about him that make him so irresistible to you, stopping at his lips. Their shape is perfect, matching the rest of his facial features perfectly, but the fullness of them, how perfect the bottom one is for nipping and biting, even sucking when the intensity of the things you would let him do to you gets to be too much, makes the thin fabric beneath your shorts wet. You clench your jaw and your forehead furrows as you fight to push away the not so innocent visions plaguing your thoughts.

“You must be thinking of some nice things, your cheeks are flushed,” Folio points out with a smirk. Bringing your hands to your cheeks, you grin, slightly down turning your head, and when you’ve looked back up at him, your breath hitches when you see he’s removed his sunglasses and his eyes are fixed heavily on you.

Your nerves feel like they’re on fire and your knees are undoubtedly weak now. You know you look a mess, body already moist with sweat and your hair everywhere from the humidity, even though you have it pulled up, but that doesn’t seem to bother Folio. He surprises you by taking your face between his hands and leaning in, softly kissing you and stealing your breath away. It’s a long kiss, and deep, and you can’t help but notice the way Folio’s body leans into yours and presses firmly against it. You grip his red sleeveless shirt and take a deep breath even though your lips are still pressed tightly to his. The scent of him engulfs your senses and you suddenly want him everywhere on you. It’s taking every ounce of restraint to keep yourself together.

But the moment Folio slides his tongue across your bottom lip, making you whimper, you know you’re done for. You know what he wants. Slightly opening your mouth, he slides his tongue in and captures yours, pulling the moan you’ve been holding back from your lungs. He releases his warm breath over you and between his taste and the scent, the mint toothpaste he used this morning still lingers and it makes you pull him in closer to you, wanting to feel every movement of his body against yours.

“Shit,” he breathes when you part, but don’t let go of each other. He grins, laying his forehead against yours and slips a hand behind your head, bringing you in for one more soft kiss. “You have no idea what you do to me.” His confession surprises you and you wonder if there's a chance that he might tell you how he feels about you. Catching the twinkle in his eyes before it fades, you give Nick your best smile. He clenches his teeth together, making that tight jaw line of his appear, the one that gives you some of the best dreams of making out with him and possibly going even further, play through your mind like your favorite movie.

“You want to tell me what you're thinking, baby, or do I have to guess?” Your panties are soaked now. If it wasn't for you still being in Nick's arms, you'd be on the ground. “You’re trembling.” “Ha, I wonder why.” A small smile finds its way into the corner of his mouth. “Do I make you tremble?” His brown eyes widen, but his expression is serious as he drags his finger down the side of your arm to the front of your stomach, resting right above the waistband of your shorts. You slowly nod in response to his question earning you another smirk before he lowers his face to your neck and drags his tongue lightly over your skin, taking a small bit of it into his mouth. The feeling of him sucking on you excites you, making your muscles tighten and the fire in your abdomen grow. You moan as you squeeze his shirt tightly in your hands again, letting the heat of the moment rip through your body. “Your skin tastes so good,” he tells you when he brings his head up to face you. “I wonder if the other parts of you taste just as good.” You feel the heart spread across your cheeks, causing Folio to chuckle. “Wouldn’t you like to know,” you retort with a smug smile. “I would, Baby.” You grin, bringing your fingers to his lips and tracing with the tips of your fingers. You can feel that familiar tingle building up in the bottom of your stomach, the one that always comes when you think about Folio; the one that makes you squeeze your thighs together. You pull your bottom lip into your mouth, biting it to keep from kissing him again, and Nick notices.

“Come on,” his alluring brown eyes taking your breath captive as his hand takes yours again. “Where almost there.”

You come to a clearing and hear the sound of flowing water before you can even see the river that's just up ahead. But that's not what makes you stop and hold still. It's what's in the center of the clearing that takes your breath away. Before you, a few feet away, are two trees intertwined with what appears to be a heart formed in the middle, made from the bending of their long branches and green leaves. It’s the most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen and it literally has you holding your breath. Bringing your hands to your mouth, you stare at it in amazement, moving closer while paying no mind to another clap of thunder, leaving Nick behind.

“I had to show you before we left. I found it yesterday when I was looking for the river.” You are utterly speechless, not just because of the trees, but also because Nick has made it a point to show you this, admitting that two trees forming a heart reminds him of you. You know this means something big, coming from Nick. He's not one to throw thoughts and feelings around or out to just anybody. You turn to look at him only to find he's already staring at you. The look in his eyes makes your heart skip.

“Judging by the look on your face I'm assuming you like it?” “I love it,” you croak, because speaking is proving to be difficult at the moment. Folio laughs “I knew you would.” Tears slip from your eyes and slide down your cheeks and you're suddenly super embarrassed that you're crying. “Hey come here, Doll,” he pleads, taking you into his arms. You throw your arms around his neck while he slides his around your waist, his hands finding their way to your bottom and squeezing it. His strong tug into him is just enough for you to know he’s serious about what he’s wanting; you feeling just how hard he is for you beneath his black shorts. The thought makes you forget you have knees at all and you can't help but give in to his demand. It’s an insatiable feeling, the hard thickness of his length pressed entirely against your sex. You feel him twitch, as if knocking upon your entrance, leaving you wanting more. Folio grunts and stagers a bit, almost losing balance, but gives you his sweet lopsided grin with narrowed eyes, taking a quick look at his watch. “We still have about ten minutes.” You want to believe he's serious, but you don't want to assume. Instead you laugh and continue to play his game. “You really want our first time together to last less than ten minutes out in the middle of the woods in broad daylight? Not to mention there’s an impending storm coming.” Folio looks up at the dark cloud-covered sky just as deep thunder rolls again. He laughs, shoulders bouncing to prove just how funny it is to him and you shove your hands deep into his back pockets, pushing yourself into him. “Fuck, Y/N, if you do that again, you're gonna leave me with no other choice.” He peers down at you, suddenly staring as if you're his next meal, and every nerve in your body is instantly on fire. You didn't mean anything by it. You're just playing the flirty game with him. But you're so nervous you feel light-headed so you quickly remove your hands from his pockets.

“Hey hold up now, I didn't say you had to take your hands away,” playfully reaching for them to shove them back in his pockets. You giggle followed by a loud squeal as Nick picks you up and spins you, putting you back down after your three persistent pleas. “I want our first time together to be someplace special. Someplace where we can be loud as fuck and no one will hear or care about what we're doing.” His expression is serious, but you know he's really not; is he? “Wow, okay, tell me how you really feel,” you say, shocked by his bluntness. “Okay, you really want to know how I really feel?” His question is more of dare than anything, but you play along anyway. “Sure, lay it on me Folio,” you tease. Leaning up against the side of a tree, Folio stands there staring at you for a minute. “I'm in love with you Y/N. I dream about you, I think about you constantly. I can’t stop. But even if I could, I don't think I'd want to.”

Folio drops his gaze, his soft brown eyes covered by the rim of his Harley ball cap. You know he's nervous. You know he's never been this bold with a girl before. But you're so shocked by his confession that you have no idea what to do. Your forehead creases and your mouth goes dry as you try to think of something to say, but fail. Is Nick being for real? When he doesn't look at you, you can't help but feel that he is being serious, and that softens your heart. Not acknowledging him would be mean and you have no intention of hurting him. So, you make the first move.

“Do you want there to be a first time between us, Nick?” His hesitation scares you a little despite what he just told you. Finally, he looks up at you with a small smile hiding in the corner of his lips and you swear his eyes are glistening. “I want a first, a second, a third… a million times… however many times you want until you get sick of me.” You let out a shaky laugh, floored that this is actually happening. “I don't think that's possible,” shaking your head at him. “Mmm… yeah it's pretty possible.”

There's a quiet moment between you. “Come here,” Folio calls to you with a quick flick of his head, and you do. He brings his hand to your neck, gently sliding his calloused fingers down your soft, delicate skin, causing shivers to ripple throughout your whole body. You want those hands everywhere on you now and you're not ashamed to admit it now that you know how he feels about you. “What if I bring my ski mask, you know the one,”

“Yes,” you say, trying to hide your excitement. You've had plenty of daydreams about him and the mask. “I’m quite aware of it, but isn’t that more Noah’s thing than yours?” Folio removes his ball cap and pushes his hair back. He looks so good to you right now as you picture him coming at you with said ski mask. If he was wearing it right now with the same look in his eyes you’d be willing to let him do whatever he wanted to you. Your skin heats up and you can feel it creeping over your cheeks as your heart pounds against your chest and you can feel damp fabric between your legs as you squeeze your thighs together. Folio notices. “Thinking about it aren’t you, Doll,” he questions, licking his lips. His warm breath on your neck as he leans in to taste your skin leaves you breathless. “Thinking about you and me together, and what it would feel like having me inside you? What it would feel like getting fucked by me with just a ski mask on.” Folio’s hands that are back on your hips dig their fingertips into your skin and your muscles tighten beneath his touch as you try to keep yourself up before your knees completely buckle. “Alright, that’s enough Nick,” you say with a shaky breath, reluctantly pushing his hands away. “You know I want to, right?” he asks in a somber tone. “I do. So did I,” hoping he can see the seriousness on your face. “I want you too.” He smiles and you release the tight breath you’ve been holding. “I want it to be on your terms, not mine.” His face softens and the tension goes away, and you melt into the sweetness you now see. “Thank you,” you whisper. He pulls you in for a deep kiss and you feel a rush of relief being in his arms this way. “Maybe we should talk about this another time.” You didn’t realize how much sexual tension was really between the two of you. “Well, you're the one who brought it up,” reminding you with a raised eyebrow. “Well, you're the one who started it,” lightly shoving him away from you. “Mmm, technically your brother did.” He taps the end of your nose as you think of a comeback. You have none. “Okay, fair point.” Folio smiles at you while taking a deep breath. “Let's head back, before Matt really does kill us both.” You agree and turn to leave, but stop instantly. “Wait, take my picture,” you say, handing Folio your phone. Grinning, he takes your hand. “I have a better idea,” as he leads you over to the trees. The thunder rolls again, and you start to feel the sprinkles of rain that are quickly turning into droplets. Wrapping his arm around you so that you're snug in the crook of his shoulder, Nick says your name and you look up at him. His lips land on yours and you fall into his kiss as you hear the snap of the camera go off, signaling he took the picture. “Hey! Nick!” Folio grins and takes off running through the pouring rain with you quickly in tow.

___________________________________________________________

After one more show in Louisiana, one in Mississippi, two in Florida, and two in Texas, the heat and humidity has all of you done for. You’re ready to go home. There is more work to be done once you get there, back to L.A., but a much needed break is first. Matt already has his entire month off planned, Noah too. Bryan will be knee deep in photos and rug making, Nicholas is flying home to Virginia, Jolly wants to sleep, but Folio has yet to mention anything. He’ll probably whisk away quietly on his bike for a long ride or a fishing trip, where you’ll be left to miss him like an insane person. But that’s okay. Everyone could use time apart.

You yawn and pull the hood further down to cover my eyes. The merch hoodie you’re wearing was actually Noah's and you confiscated it without him knowing. But you know he doesn’t mind. Settling deeper into the couch and in the hoodie, you feel a looming presence over you, and you have a good idea of who it is.

“Up,” Folio orders, tapping your legs. You obey, laying them back down on his lap once he sits down. “Are you alive under there?” “Barely,” you mumble. Your arms are crossed over your chest and the hood completely covers your face. “Alright,” Folio chuckles. “Well, are you listening?” You sigh. “Depends on what you’re saying.” You feel a warm hand slip under the hoodie first and then your shirt, sliding across the skin of your belly while making its way further up, filling your entire body up with goosebumps. “How about now; listening now?” You shake your head while smiling, but you know Folio can’t see it. The hand moves from right below your breasts, further south to right above the waistband of your leggings, stopping as if to think, but then continuing down overtop the fabric and over your heated sex that’s throbbing with lust from Folio’s teasing. Instantly, you sit up and pull the hood off, meeting with Folio’s face mere inches from you. “How about now,” he says with that adorable smile. You shake your head once more, the familiar tingling engulfing you between your legs, begging for one more touch from Nick’s fingers. He grins, leans in and kisses you, while sliding a finger between your covered folds, feeling you squirm and wiggle beneath him. Just his touch alone is sending you quickly to the edge. “Mmm… I want to feel more of that from you,” Nick says, once he sits back. “You're such a tease, you know that?” You shake your head and grin, sitting back without the hood this time. “So, really, are you listening?” You smile big, and shake your head again, watching Folio’s eyes grow dark and wide. You know what he wants and you’re playing his tightened strings so well, that they are about to snap. “I’m kidding, yes, I’m listening,” you say, attempting to pull him away from the ledge.

You prop your head on your fist, staring at the man before you who is too busy scrolling through his phone to notice you staring at him. Folio is beautiful, with all the perfect little things that make him so irresistibly hot at the same time. From the earring in his left ear, to the hoop in his nose, the large tattoo on his neck and the massive one on his chest. From his sweet disposition, to affectionate, caring heart, Nick was everything you wanted; physically and inwardly. He always made you feel safe and you knew at this moment you didn't want or need anything else. Folio was enough.

“I know what I want to do once we're home,” he says, raising his eyebrows and smiling. You grin seeing him so excited about whatever it is he’s about to show you. “I found this really cool fishing spot up in Washington called Trout Lake Cozy Cabins. Apparently they have some of the best trout fishing there. I wanna take the bike and go.” Your heart falls at the thought of him leaving, especially so soon after getting home, but you’re not about to rain on his parade. “That sounds like a great time,” trying to mask the disappointment in your voice. “Good, because you’re coming with me.” Your eyes dart up to Nick’s and you see him grinning. “You’re serious,” you say more as an affirmation than a question. “Yeah I’m serious. We need to get away together if we’re going to give this thing between us a shot.” “This thing?” Your eyes narrow and you sit up, scooting closer to Folio’s legs. “Yeah, this thing,” he confirms, licking his lips, looking you up and down as you move closer. “And what is this thing,” you whisper over his lips. Your eyes drop from his to his lips and you’re restraining everything in you to not reach out and grab him, pull him into you, and devour every part of his sweet face that’s got you going mad for him. “Mmmmm, it’s a really great thing,” he answers, his entire body still, but his breath is shaky. “And there’s an us?” Your heart is pounding so hard you wonder if he can hear it. “I’d really, really like for there to be an us,” he whispers as you hand grazes over his hard length that’s very obvious to your eyes at the moment.

“If you two seriously don’t quit, I’m throwing you out,” Matt barks as he walks by. You can hear the laughter hiding behind your brother’s tone and know there isn’t an ounce of seriousness in his voice. But still, you and Folio back off each other, allowing some breathing room. “So, you want to go here,” you say once you’ve taken a look at the place he’s pulled up on his phone. It’s very beautiful. It’s rural, quiet, and private; it’s the perfect place for you two. “I've already booked “The Pines” cabin for us.” Your eyes widen. “Seriously?” “Seriously.” “How far is it?” “Does it matter?” “It does if I’m going to be stuck with your ass, alone.” Folio pretends to be hurt. “I know you’re joking.” “Oh, but am I Folio?” You narrow your eyes and give him a smirk. You watch as his face grows a little anxious. You burst out laughing, earning you a ton of tickles to which your squeals turn into small screams. “It’s eight hundred and thirty-seven miles,” Nick finally tells you. “Whew, that’s a lot of miles. How many hours?” “Twelve and a half by the time we stop for gas and rest.”

“Wow… that’s a long time alone with you on a bike. I’m not sure I can do that Nick.” You try to keep your face as serious as you can and it works. Nick’s head falls and you know you’ve made him feel terrible. “Oh my gosh, I’m kidding,” you scootch into his lap and wrap him around you as much as possible. “I’m so kidding,” you say again, placing soft kisses all over him. Folio raises his head to look at you and now you’re the one who feels terrible. “You really have to stop fucking with my head like that. My feelings too; I’m sensitive.” The baby face he’s giving you makes you fold into him and bury yourself there. “I’m sorry,” you mumble into his chest.” “It’s fine. I’ll just make you pay for it later.” You freeze at the sudden change in Folio’s voice, sitting up and staring at him. “Seriously?” “Am I?” The mischievous glint in his eyes is too much and you bite your lip, wondering if maybe you shouldn’t have teased him so much. “Come with me and find out?” Folio smiles at you. “Well, I guess you’ll have to find out once we get home.” Getting up, you head towards the bathroom, pleased with yourself. “Seriously, Y/N!” “Yup, seriously, Folio,” chuckling at yourself because you already know the answer.

TO BE CONTINUED.....

#nick folio #nick folio bad omens #nick folio fic #nick folio fanfiction #nick folio x reader #bad omens cult #bad omens band #bad omens fanfiction

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writingforstraykids · 1 day

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hiya! i'm still pretty new to your blog but i really like your writing! english isn't my first language but i hope my request is still understandable ^^

m!reader (with they/them pronouns if possible 👉🏻👈🏻) is best friends with chan. chan praises the reader in some way and figures out that they have a praise kink so he just keeps praising them to make them flustered all the time (bonus points if he throws in the classic 'good boy')

oh and i wanted to ask if i could maybe be 🦖 anon?

thank you!

It's always been you

Pairing: Chan x m!reader with they/them pronouns (mention of Minsung)

Word Count: 4301

Summary: Chan and you have been best friends for what feels like forever. You long for more, not knowing that Chan feels the same. Minho and Jisung decide to lend you a hand the way Chan and you did for them.

Warnings/Tags: friends to lovers, fluff, slight angst, smut, teasing, praise kink, dry humping

A/N: I know we've talked a while ago about this request but I hope I did your wishes for it justice, my dear🖤

do not repost, translate, or plagiarize my works in any way here or on other platforms. ©️writingforstraykids 2024 -

You hum gently to yourself as you make your way back home, scrolling through your phone as you try to find a good song. A smile covers your lips as your best friend's voice rings through your ears and you can't help the warm feeling spreading through you. Chan invited you over for a movie night with the boys, and you couldn't wait to spend time with them…or him. Being around Chan made you feel things you never felt for anyone else ever before. Those soft brown eyes, beautiful smile, and warm hugs made you feel so loved. You know there's no chance he would ever love you back, but that didn't stop you from gazing after him.

You reach their dorm, and Minho lets you in, pulling you into a short hug. “Hey, Min.”

“Hey,” he smiles and closes the door behind you. “Channie hyung will be there in a bit. He went out to grab some snacks with Ji,” he explains and pats your back, leading you inside.

“Oh, okay,” you nod and glance around the living room, where they've already set everything up. “Can I still help with anything?”

“Nah, you're fine,” he tells you and gently shoves you toward the sofa. “Relax, okay? We got it.”

“Fuck, Ji, it's getting worse every time they're there,” Chan sighs and grabs some of your favorite cookies.

“Worse?” Jisung frowns, and Chan nods weakly.

“Yeah, they're so funny and adorable and so pretty,” he says and glances at his friend nervously. “I really want to be more than just friends.”

Jisung squints his eyes at him suspiciously. “Just sex or more?” he asks quietly.

“Not just sex,” Chan shakes his head and awkwardly scratches his neck. “I wanna be there for them, make sure they're safe and loved.”

“Why don't you tell them?” he asks curiously.

“I'm scared of ruining our friendship,” he admits.

“You will, one way or the other, won't you?” he asks gently. “You'll regret it if you don't tell them, believe me. I could've saved myself a lot of pain if I told Minho hyung a lot earlier.”

“Yeah, but…I told you Minho loves you. You had some clarity after that,” he sighs softly.

“I can ask Y/nnie,” he shrugs, and Chan's eyes widen fearfully. “Then I'll tell you, and you can decide what to do with that information.”

“Yeah, okay,” he gives in after a moment.

You look up as they return from the store and smile softly, spotting Chan and giving him a small wave. Chan smiles back, walks past you, and gently pats your head. “Hey, bestie.”

“Hey,” you smile gently, swallowing at the word that once brought you so much comfort but now is a simple reminder of what you didn't have.

You see Minho greeting Jisung, pulling him into a hug, and gently rubbing his back. He asks him something you can't quite hear, but his eyes are so soft, his voice gentle, it makes your heartache. Minho giggles at Jisung’s answer and cups his face, kissing his forehead. You quickly look away, biting your lower lip. You still remember how happy you were when they got together, but over time it got hard to watch, wishing for something like this with Chan. “Y/nnie, can I talk to you for a second?” Jisung asks as he pulls back. “I need help with something.”

“You're okay?” Minho asks worriedly.

“I'm okay,” he assures him softly and squeezes his hand. “Come on,” he waves you over. You get up, not noticing Chan's anxious glance as you leave the room.

Minho glances at him suspiciously. “Oh…that?”

“Mhm,” Chan nods nervously and Minho flashes him an encouraging smile.

“How could they not love you, huh?” he chuckles compassionately. “Relax, hyungie.”

Only a little later, you're back in the living room, trying not to look all too confused. There isn't much space left on the sofa, and Chan pulls you into his lap naturally. You sink back into him and bite your lower lip nervously. Why the hell did Jisung ask if you're in love? With Chan? Was it that obvious?

You can barely focus on the movie playing and want nothing more but to leave and think this all through. It's over sooner than you thought, and you're all sitting in a circle on the carpet now.

“Truth or dare anyone?” Seungmin asks, and you curse yourself quietly. Of course.

“Not for me, I should get -” you start and see Chan's smile fading.

“You're leaving already?” he asks worriedly, and you nod quickly.

“Oh, come on, Y/nnie,” Jeongin pouts at you.

“You can't leave already,” Changing protests and places the cards into your circle.

“Fine,” you give in weakly and sit down next to Chan, who lifts you into his lap rather quickly again. His arms wrap around your waist, and his chin rests on your shoulder. “Clingy,” you comment fondly.

“Fuck off,” Chan gives back just as fondly.

The game goes on, and luckily, you're getting easy tasks and questions that don't make you uncomfortable. Jisung is sleeping in Minho's lap by now as the latter plays with his hair, and Felix's head is resting on his shoulder. Seungmin and Innie keep on teasing each other, hoping for the most stupid questions for each other. Changbin is still reading the questions, and Hyunjin giggles every time he shows him beforehand. You're still comfortable in Chan's lap and giggle as Seungmin spins the bottle, and it points at the two of you.

“That's pretty in the middle,” Changbin states and frowns softly.

“I can go; I'll take truth,” Chan volunteers. Changbin glances down at the question before grinning.

“Do you have a crush? If so, who?” he reads out loud, and Chan stiffens beneath you.

“I do,” he nods, and your throat dries.

“Who?” Hyunjin asks, pointing out the second part of the question.

“Someone I know really well,” Chan says, and your heart drops. That could be everyone in this room, and looking at the others, you know it can't be you. There's no chance. You push yourself from his lap before you fully comprehend your thoughts, excusing yourself for the bathroom. Chan glances after you worriedly as you bump into the table on the way out and exchanges a worried look with Minho.

“I got it,” Minho nods and gently plants a sleeping Jisung into Felix's lap. “You go on,” he tells the rest before making his way upstairs to the bathroom. Minho gently knocks at the door and fondly rolls his eyes as you don't answer. “Y/nnie, let me in,” he says and waits for another moment. “I'll go get Chan if you don't.” You quickly open the door and pull him inside, locking the door again. “Cozy,” he comments teasingly.

“Why are you even here?” you sigh softly and sit down heavily at the edge of the bathtub.

“Shouldn't I ask you that? This can't be more comfortable than Chan hyung’s lap,” he says and sits down next to you, shaking his head. “Definitely not.”

“Mhm, you should know, right?” you ask sarcastically, and Minho grins.

“Oh, I do…I've seen…or felt…everything you dream about,” he chuckles and gently pats your thigh. “I'm with Ji. What's stopping you now, huh?”

“Don't be ridiculous,” you shake your head and sigh heavily. “There's no way on earth Chan would love me and - oh fuck, I sound just like you,” you groan.

“You do,” he giggles. “And I remember you telling me to get myself together and finally realize how handsome I am.”

“Well, you are, you dumbass,” you roll your eyes at him. “That doesn't exactly apply to me.”

“I think…I know Chan thinks very differently about that,” he says and is quiet for a moment. “So do I, dumbass,” he says and gently smacks the back of your head.

Minho's words hit you like a wave, washing away the stubborn layers of doubt that had clung to you all evening. Despite the sting of his playful smack, there's an undeniable warmth in his words, an affirmation that maybe, just maybe, Chan might feel the same way about you.

"But, Min," you start, your voice trembling slightly from the mix of hope and uncertainty, "What if you're wrong? What if he doesn't... What if it's not me he's talking about?"

Minho raises an eyebrow and gives you a look that screams exasperation mixed with fondness. "Y/nnie, when have I ever steered you wrong? Listen, Chan's not as good at hiding his feelings as he thinks. The way he looks at you? I've seen it. It's more than just friendship. This isn’t my talk to have, though, you know?"

You're about to respond, but there's a knock on the bathroom door that makes you both flinch. "It's me," a voice says, one that sends butterflies rampaging through your stomach. Chan.

Minho winks at you and stands up. He walks past Chan with a knowing look as he exits the bathroom, leaving the door slightly ajar. You're frozen in place, your heart pounding so loudly you're sure Chan can hear it.

Chan steps inside, closes the door behind him, and leans against it. His eyes search yours, filled with a nervous energy that matches your own. "Y/nnie, are you okay? I noticed you left suddenly..."

Taking a deep breath, you nod slowly, trying to muster the courage that Minho seemed to think you had in abundance. "I'm okay, Chan. Just... a lot on my mind, I guess."

Chan moves closer, his concern evident. "Anything you want to talk about? You know you can tell me anything, right?"

The sincerity in his voice nearly breaks you. With a shaky exhale, you decide it's now or never. "Chan, I... I need to ask you something. Earlier, when you said you have a crush... was that-"

Chan's face changes then, but before you can interpret it, he lets out a breath he seems to have been holding. "Yes, it's you. It's always been you, Y/nnie. I was just too scared to say anything because I didn't want to ruin what we had."

The words you had feared and hoped to hear tumble into the small space between you, and for a moment, the world stops. Tears prick your eyes, not from sadness but from an overwhelming relief that floods through you.

"Chan, I... I feel the same," you confess, the weight of your unspoken feelings lifting off your shoulders. "I was so afraid you'd never see me that way."

Chan steps forward, closing the distance between you in an instant. His hands cup your face gently, and he smiles - a real, soft smile that you've dreamed of being meant for you. "How could I not? You're amazing, Y/nnie. I've just been an idiot about it."

And then he kisses you, a soft, sweet kiss that promises more. As you melt into him, the fears and doubts of the past fade away, replaced by the excitement of what comes next.

Outside the bathroom, the sounds of the ongoing game and the laughter of your friends continue, a reminder of the world waiting for you both. But for now, in this small, shared space, nothing matters more than the two of you finally bridging the gap between friendship and something much deeper.

When you finally pull away, Chan's grin is as bright as the stars you imagine are shining outside. "Come on," he says, taking your hand. "Let's go back.”

The two of you sit down again, and you lean back against him comfortably. Your eyes meet Minho’s, and you can’t help but beam at him. Minho smiles gently and winks at you, focusing back on the game. Chan gently intertwines your hands in front of your stomach and rests his head on your shoulder. “Tired?” you ask him quietly enough for only him to hear.

“Starting to be, yeah,” he hums quietly. “You wanna stay tonight?” he asks so sweetly there was no chance you’d deny him.

“I would love to,” you nod.

The evening goes on, but the atmosphere around you is subtly different now. The other guys seem to pick up on the shift; quick, knowing glances are exchanged, and an occasional smirk is poorly disguised as a cough. As the evening slowly comes to a stop, the games gradually transform into yawns and stretching limbs. One by one, the room starts to empty as everyone heads to their room. Changbin claps Chan on the back as he passes by, whispering something that makes Chan chuckle and squeeze your hand tighter.

Once the room is empty, Chan shifts slightly, turning to face you. "So, what do you want to do?" he asks, his voice low and warm. "We could start another movie, just the two of us, or maybe just talk?"

"The talking sounds nice," you reply, smiling at him

Chan nods in agreement and stands, leading you to his room. You’ve been here so often before, but you never fail to feel at home here. He shuts the door behind you and sits on the edge of the bed, patting the space next to him.

You join him, feeling a blend of excitement and nervousness. "I'm really glad you're here," Chan begins, turning to you with a beautiful smile that makes your heart flutter. "I've wanted to talk like this for so long but didn't know how to start."

"Me too," you admit. "I always wondered what this would be like, talking to you like this, knowing we both feel the same way."

Chan reaches out, brushing a strand of hair from your face. "I've been so scared of messing things up," he confesses. "I didn't want to lose you by taking a step that might have been too much, too soon."

You nod, understanding his fears because they mirror your own. "But we didn't mess it up, did we? We're here now, and it feels right."

"It does," he agrees, his eyes lighting up with a mixture of relief and happiness. "It feels perfect."

"What do you think will happen with us?" you ask a small part of you needing reassurance that tonight's magic will extend beyond dawn.

Chan squeezes your hand, his gaze steady. "I think we're going to be great," he says. "We already know each other so well, and we care about each other. We just have to keep doing what we're doing."

"I love that," you whisper, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"I love you," Chan says softly, the words spoken so naturally, echoing through the quiet room.

"I love you too, Channie," you respond, turning to face him. Your eyes meet his in a look that feels like a promise. He smiles sweetly, dimples showing, and gives you another quick kiss.

Chan stands up and offers you a shirt to sleep in, his shy smile making you laugh. You change and slide under the covers beside him, his arm coming around to hold you close.

The comfort of his embrace and the steady beat of his heart soon draw you into slumber, the challenges of the day fading into the peace of the night.

Two weeks later

You’re at the kitchen table with Minho, whispering the details of Chan’s and your first kiss and talk to him. You haven’t really had time to before with Minho gone for a few days. Minho listens curiously, nodding along, and you can tell he’s happy for you. The rest slowly join you for breakfast, and then Chan comes back from his shower after his gym session. His curls are still damp, a bright smile covering his face as he sees you. He passes you, gently squeezing your shoulder. “Morning, pretty,” he says softly, and you can’t help but feel flustered. A quick kiss to your temple follows, and he’s gone again already, getting himself something to drink.

Minho notices the blush settling on your cheeks and giggles. “That easily?” he asks, amused.

You gently shove his shoulder. “Shut up,” you mutter. “I’m not used to it.”

“Mhm,” he hums, still giggling softly.

It gets worse as Chan slips into the chair next to you, flashing you a bright smile and casually resting his hand on your thigh. “You slept well, beautiful?” he asks, not noticing the blush on your cheeks deepening.

What the hell? Why were his simple words causing such warmth to spread through your body? Why are you blushing so hard after a few kind words? His eyes meet yours, and your stomach tightens at the love in them. Fuck.

“Yeah, did you?” you ask shyly.

“Of course, you’ve always been amazing at cuddling,” he compliments you, and you subconsciously shift in your chair.

You manage a small smile in response to Chan’s gaze, the affection evident in his eyes almost too much to process so early in the morning. He chuckles softly, his hand squeezing your thigh reassuringly, a simple gesture that somehow speeds up your fluttering heart.

“Sorry,” he whispers, leaning in so that only you can hear, “I didn’t mean to make you blush this much.” His voice is a blend of amusement and tenderness, sending a shiver down your spine. You can't help but feel a little overwhelmed by how natural it all seems to him, this newfound closeness between you.

“It’s okay,” you assure him.

“Are you sure, pretty boy?” he asks and your lips part softly, eyes widening a little.

“Channie,” you whisper softly, shaking your head. “Stop it.”

“Stop what?” he asks, a knowing smirk lacing his features. “I’m just saying what I see.”

Your teeth bury into your lower lip as you feel the earlier shyness shift into something much stronger. Chan was getting you all worked up over nothing, and you’re not even done with breakfast yet.

“Give them a break,” Minho leans over suddenly, rolling his eyes playfully at Chan. “You’re getting them all worked up at the breakfast table; behave,” he says quietly enough only for the pair of you to hear.

Chan’s eyes widen, lips parting in a silent ‘oh’ as he picks up on the effect his words have on you. He leans closer to you, his breath tickling your neck. “Didn’t know you had a thing for praise.”

“Me neither, now shut up,” you plead softly, shifting in your seat and pulling at your shirt to cover your lap. Chan’s low chuckle sends shivers down your spine, and you flinch as his hand moves up your thigh. You gaze at him nervously, but Chan doesn’t even glance in your direction, talking to Seungmin opposite him. By now, you can’t get up to escape the possibility of getting caught because you’re slowly growing hard.

Your breath hitches as you try to focus on anything but the warmth of Chan's hand, your body reacting despite the semi-public setting. It's a thrilling yet terrifying mix of emotions, the fear of being noticed wrestling with the pleasure of Chan's subtle touches.

"Hey, you okay?" Seungmin's voice cuts through your haze, and you snap your attention back to him, nodding quickly, too quickly.

"Yeah, just... thought I saw something outside," you stammer, hoping your voice doesn't betray the flush of heat crawling up your neck. Chan smirks slightly, his fingers pausing as if he's aware of your struggle to stay composed.

The rest of the breakfast passes with a sort of hushed intensity, your mind whirling with Chan's teasing and the palpable connection that seems to have everyone subtly glancing your way every so often. You're grateful when the meal finally ends, and there’s an opportunity to escape the intensity of the kitchen.

Chan stands and stretches, his shirt lifting slightly to reveal a sliver of his abdomen. You have to force your gaze away, feeling the heat in your cheeks intensify. "Wanna go upstairs?" he asks, his voice low, meant only for your ears. You pull at the hem of your shirt, nodding shyly and biting your lower lip in anticipation. Chan giggles and pulls you into a tight hug, whispering to you as some of the boys are still here. “Didn’t know you’d be able to hide it so well,” he tells you, hand running down your back. “Think you deserved yourself a reward, pretty boy?”

“Please,” you whisper, burying your flushed face in his shoulder.

“If you’re good and keep quiet, I’ll help you out,” he whispers, and you tense in his arms, biting your lower lip hard.

Your body reacts with a shiver at the promise in his words, the idea alone enough to draw a deep, yearning ache from within you. You nod against his shoulder, unable to speak, your heart pounding fiercely in your chest.

Chan leads you quietly upstairs, his hand gripping yours with a reassuring firmness. You pass a couple of the guys lounging in the living area, completely oblivious to the charged atmosphere between you two. Once inside his room, Chan locks the door with a soft click, the sound echoing slightly in the stillness.

"Sit down," he directs gently, pointing to the edge of his bed. You obey, watching him with wide eyes as he kneels down in front of you. His hands rest on your knees, his touch light but sending waves of anticipation through your body.

"How quiet do you think you can be?" Chan asks, his voice low and teasing, his breath warm against your skin as he leans closer.

"I'll be quiet," you promise, your voice barely above a whisper, trembling with the effort of keeping your composure.

Chan smiles, that knowing, mischievous grin that always sets your heart racing. He slowly moves his hands up your thighs, his fingers brushing the fabric of your sweatpants tantalizingly slow. The touch is light, almost teasing, but it’s enough to make you gasp softly.

"Shh," he hushes, his lips brushing against your ear, sending another shiver down your spine. "Remember, you need to be quiet."

You nod, biting your lip hard to stifle any further sounds. Chan’s hands continue their exploration, now slipping under your shirt to trace the lines of your stomach up towards your chest. His touch is feather-light, yet every nerve in your body screams for more contact, more pressure.

Without warning, he presses down more firmly, his palm flat against your chest as he pushes you gently back onto the bed. You go willingly, your body already on fire from his touch, your breathing heavy but controlled as you try to keep your promise.

Chan climbs onto the bed, straddling one of your thighs as he leans over you, his face just inches from yours. “Still doing okay?” he asks, his eyes searching yours for any sign of hesitation.

“More than okay,” you breathe out, the proximity of his body making it hard to think about anything but the feel of him against you.

Grinning, Chan shifts his weight, and you feel the firm pressure of his thigh between yours, exactly where you need him. He watches your face closely as he begins to rock gently, the friction sending sparks of pleasure coursing through you. Your hands find his hips, gripping him, guiding him into a rhythm that has you biting down on your lip to keep silent.

The room is filled with the soft sound of fabric moving against fabric and Chan's steady, controlled breathing. You keep your eyes locked on him, getting lost in the intensity of his gaze as he moves against you. Each motion is deliberate, calculated to drive you closer to the edge without tipping you over too soon.

Chan’s hands are on your hips now, his fingers pressing into your skin, his grip firm and possessive. He leans down to kiss you, slow and deep, his lips moving against yours in a dance that mirrors the movement of your bodies. You respond eagerly, the kiss muffled enough to keep your moans contained.

As the pressure builds, Chan’s movements become more urgent, his body pressing harder against yours. You feel a warmth spreading through you, a tingling sensation that starts deep within and radiates outwards. Your grip on him tightens, and Chan breaks the kiss to look at you, his eyes intense.

“Shit, Channie,” you whisper, almost feeling dizzy at the intensity of finally being this close to Chan.

“Shh, be a good boy, yeah?” he asks softly, biting back a moan himself as he rocks his hips.

“Close,” you manage to whisper, and he nods, his movements becoming even more focused. You arch into him, your mouth opening in a silent cry of release as waves of pleasure wash over you. Chan holds you through it, his body a steady presence as you tremble beneath him. Chan buries his face in your chest with a soft, punched-out sound as his body shivers, stumbling over the edge.

When you finally relax back onto the bed, Chan’s face is flushed with his own exertion, a satisfied smile playing on his lips. He kisses you softly, tenderly, a stark contrast to the urgency of moments before.

“Was that quiet enough for you?” you ask, a playful note in your voice despite your exhaustion.

“Perfect,” Chan confirms with a chuckle, his forehead resting against yours. “Absolutely perfect.” You both lie there for a moment, catching your breath, the only sound in the room now the quiet hum of the house around you. Then, with a gentle nudge, Chan encourages you to sit up. “Come on,” he says, his voice gentle. “Let’s clean up a bit, then we can go back down. They’ll wonder where we’ve vanished to.”

“Yeah, okay,” you giggle softly, smiling into the loving kiss he gives you before slipping out of bed. Yeah, you could get used to this and so much more.

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runningfrom2am · 2 days

Text

cold nights // part thirty-one

summary: you were back in the capitol, and you would be damned if you didn't try your hardest to make it worthwhile.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.6k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, depictions of mental illness, also she's is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: heyyyy ttpd has got me fucked up and ALSO guess who heard from her ex for the first time in years?? that's been so dope and not at all causing me to spiral over the last like week :) anyway missed this series so here.

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"You didn't have to come." You whisper in the dark, the open window doing very little to illuminate the room without the help of the stars.

"Yes I did." Lennox answers you, matching your hushed tone. You roll onto your side so you're facing him, smiling slightly. Sejanus had given you both your own rooms, but rarely did a night go by where you didn't miss sharing that mattress on the floor with your brother back home.

"Did Sej have to convince Ma to let you come?"

"He didn't ask me to come." You feel the pillows shift as he shakes his head. "He told me what was goin' on, and I said I'd be on the next train and that was that." He pauses, chuckling to himself. "I appreciate you havin' your meltdown on the last day of the month, by the way. Was awful convenient for me."

"Yeah, me too." You giggle. "How was your Halloween?"

He shrugs, tucking his hands behind his head as he stares up at the ceiling. "It was alright. Same old."

"Did you do a costume this year?" You ask, already knowing he didn't. Apparently sixteen was too old for that- he was too "cool" for that now.

"Nah." He laughs. "You?"

"Yeah." You whisper, your smile dropping slightly. "I was Juliet, Tigris helped me make it."

"I'm sorry, but that means nothing to me." He chuckles, looking over at you.

"Well, it was an angel costume. We made the wings, and Coryo was supposed to be Romeo. We made his too. I was real proud of it, he was 'sposed to be a knight." You explain.

"But he didn't wear it?"

You just shake your head.

"Prick." Lennox mutters.

"He actually... ruined it on purpose." You whisper. "Poured red wine all down the front."

"Why the hell would he do that?" Lennox frowns. "I mean, I coulda' told you that guy was an asshole, but that's just cruel."

"It was my fault." You admit. "I didn't tell him that couples costumes were a thing until the day of. I didn't give him a choice, and I should have asked if he was okay with that."

"No... No, Y/N/N, don't do that." You feel him shake his head again, dragging a hand down over his face in frustration.

"Don't do what?"

"Blame yourself." He states. "You coulda' asked, sure, but I can't think of a problem he could possibly have with it. That's, you know, actually a valid reason."

"You know how they feel about us here, bug." You say softly, reaching out to push his hair back for him from where it had been pushed down on his forehead. "Sej has never really fit in, and he's been here ten years. I can't expect to walk in and have everything be perfect. Of course he's going to be a little embarrassed."

"But you can expect someone who's supposed to love you to be willing to prove it." Lennox says frustratedly. "You taught me that. So don't go changin' on me now."

"I would never." You smile slightly. "But... real life is different. Real love is different, I think."

"Real love shouldn't be embarrassing." He mumbles. "Not that I know a thing about it, but I think he's an idiot. I mean, I'd wear a matching costume with you tomorrow if you asked. I'd do anything for you."

"I know you would." You smile sadly. There are a few beats of silence between you while you remember all the signs you missed. Coryo telling you the school was strict about physical contact, causing you to turn a blind eye to other students kissing or holding hands in the halls and him hugging Clemensia that very same day. Him telling you to give him space when your only crime was standing too close. The only times he would hold your hand in public being in the backseat of their car or under a desk or table, hidden from view.

"He's lucky to have ya. Hell, we all are." Lennox says after a moment. "If any of these stuck-ups had any humanity they would treat you just the same. I'm not here to convince you to come home, but I think you're better off with us. That's all. At least at home, you're treated normal."

"But I'm not." You reply. "Not anymore. I might as well take this chance to get an education, so I can get a good job and go home and provide for you guys. Dad could retire instead of workin' himself to death in those mines, and Ma would never have to patch another pair of coveralls for as long as she should live. You could do whatever you wanted, bug. You could go to school too if that's what you decide. I could buy you a house, a bike, anything you want in the world."

"That's great and all, but I don't give a shit about that stuff anymore." Lennox tells you honestly. "As long as you're... alive, I guess, we're happy just the way things were. We talked about it a lot. That we'd give anything just to have you back."

A smile twitches on your lips. "I get it." You agree quietly. "But if I can get something for all of us out of having to go through... all of that, I'm gonna take it. Then we can all be together and all the better for it."

"For how long? Until one of us gets hitched and has kids, and then in twenty years we're sending them back here to go through the same shit you did?" He argues. "It's all for nothing. We just gotta make the time for each other while we can."

You chew on your lip, sick at the mere mention of your kids possibly getting picked. Or, god forbid Lennox getting picked in the last three years his name is entered in the reaping, and the number of entries increasing with every passing year. "I suppose." You agree. "But, can you keep a secret?"

He smiles at the familiarity as he looks over at you. "You know I can."

"Coryo is gonna be the next president. I'm sure of it." You whisper. "He's sure of it, too, it's all he's been raised for."

"Forgive me for not feeling reassured by that fact."

"No, but you should." You insist. "He's... He's a good man. He knows how to do the right thing, and I'm sure he'll call off the games one day. He has to."

You can hear your brother's sharp intake of breath. "If he's got you, he will." He mumbles in realization and you nod slightly.

"I think I'll be able to help. To actually do something good if I stick with him." You whisper.

"That's... a lot of pressure." Lennox agrees. As of right now, Coriolanus Snow is far from in his good books. 'If he was, I'd burn my library.' He recalls you laughing over the line in the book, recounting it to him just a couple of months prior. He wants to see you like that again. Happy. Yourself. But if you have to throw that away to save a future of who knows how many children, would that even be worth it to him? He feels guilty for thinking that it wouldn't.

"I love him, Len. I do." You assure him, somehow seeming to track his thought process. "I just don't know... If he truly feels the same way about me. I thought he did, when we were back home. When he came to Twelve, he was different than he is here."

"That's not fair." He replies quietly, deciding that now would certainly not be the time to bring up the fact that if you did end up marrying the future President of Panem, that would mean there would be no "coming home" for you. This, here, a city that tore you apart and left him to try and pick up the pieces, would be your home. He knows that as much as you love him and your parents, you're too noble to give up the chance to spare his children from your fate. He wants to hate you for it, but he never could. "That you have to defend him at all, I mean. You deserve to be angry sometimes, Y/N/N."

"It's fair." You smile slightly. "I just... I was so sure he was the one for me. You know? He cared about me when no one else did, he risked so much for me. You can hate him all you want, but that doesn't change the fact that he saved my life."

"That doesn't mean you owe him your love."

"I know that." You whisper, lips pursed in thought as you pause to figure out what you want to say. "But I think I would love him anyway. More than anything, I feel bad that I put him in this position."

Lennox shakes his head abruptly. "You didn't do anything. He made this decision, that apparently he wants you here, so he shouldn't be "embarrassed" of you, or whatever. Not at all."

"I don't know what to do, bug." You admit quietly. "I don't want to leave him. I don't want him to leave me behind now that the Games are over and done. I feel like for a while it was like... like I was a shiny new toy. And now I'm not clean and fun anymore."

"You really love him?" He asks, and you nod. He sighs, rubbing his eyes. "Then I can't believe I'm sayin' this, but you've gotta talk to him."

You open your mouth to speak, a small smile forming on your lips at his acceptance despite your nervousness about seeing Coryo again. "But don't let him off the hook yet, just let him plead his case." Lennox adds.

"I have to, bug."

"You're too forgiving." He replies, understanding but still disappointed. "I don't want to see you hurt."

"If I couldn't forgive, I would be ruined."

Coriolanus doesn't know what to do other than to go and get you before school come Monday morning. He hadn't heard from you, but Tigris insisted that you just needed your space. So he left a little early, the brisk air chilling him as he stepped outside the apartment building where their car was waiting.

He jumps nearly a foot in the air when he hears his name.

"Coriolanus Snow, fancy finding you here." He abruptly turns to look at the boy leaning up against the cement pillar only a few feet away.

The smug smile on your brother's face at his own joke is only mildly off-putting.

"Lennox. What are you doing here?" Coryo asks, clearing his throat and quickly readjusting the front of his coat. He knew your family- he knew he shouldn't be shocked that if you called, your brother would come running. Now he's just realizing that this didn't mean anything good for him.

Lennox shrugs as he steps away from the wall, a toothpick poking out from the corner of his mouth as he chews on it. "Sejanus called on Halloween. Said Y/N was having a tough time, and what kind of brother would I be if I didn't come to help?"

"That's very kind of you." Coryo states, eyeing him carefully. "So, you've been with her then?"

"Mhm." Lennox nods, smiling proudly as he not so subtly sizes up the boy in front of him. "Should we talk in the car? Wouldn't want you to be seen with me." He winks, flicking away the toothpick before brushing past your boyfriend to let himself into the backseat.

The blonde boy swallows, rolling his eyes before climbing in after him. "You going to school?" Lennox asks, already playing with the switches that roll up the windows and adjust the seats.

"I was going to pick up Y/N. She has class at the same time."

"Oh, she's already there. She got a ride with Sej this morning." Lennox states. "So don't worry, we wouldn't want her to be an inconvenience for you."

Coryo sighs, rubbing his head. "Listen, I don't know what they toldyou, but-"

"Oh, no. You're gonna listen to me now." Lennox cuts him off, suddenly serious as the car begins to move. "I don't know what you want from her. Not anymore. I had a pretty good idea when you showed up at our home unannounced, but clearly, that wasn't enough for you. So, correct me if I'm wrong, but you kidnapped her, right-"

"I didn't-"

"Yes, you did. As I was saying, you kidnapped her, but why?" Lennox shakes his head, eyes wide with genuine confusion. "If you don't want her, if you treat her like she's a burden to you, or that you're embarrassed of her, why would you bother? Was it just to break her again, because The Hunger Games didn't do a damn good enough job?" He hisses, fists clenched together like it was all he could do to not take a swing at him right now. "'My tribute gets touchy when she drinks'... Are you kidding me? You did this to her! All of it! I don't think it's too much of her to ask for you to care when you promised that you would!"

Coryo flinches a bit as his own words are thrown back at him, looking down at his lap in nothing more than shame as it fills him slowly from head to toe.

"It's not like that, Lennox. Not at all." Coryo settles on, shaking his head. "She is the furthest thing from a burden to me. I know it's hard for you to believe, but I want her to be happy. I want to help her."

Lennox looks down at his lap, the act of 'protective brother' crumbling to pieces over the back seat as tears brim at his eyes. "Then why would you take her away again?"

Coryo is shocked by this, eyes going wide as he stares at him. No longer was Lennox only your little brother who puffed his chest and rolled up his sleeves at every given opportunity to take a stab at your boyfriend, he was just a kid. A kid like you, who was completely torn apart by the games even though he had never set foot in the Capitol until the day before.

To Coryo, Lennox looked like he would have made a strong competitor in the same games; had his name been chosen. He was cocky, normally, and that was something that could be made into the spectacle that Dr. Gaul wanted. He would have no doubt done well. Coryo recalls you talking endlessly about your brother before the Games, and he remembered meeting him in Twelve and thinking that he was nothing like what he expected from the way you spoke about him. Gentle. Kind. Selfless.

From his limited interactions with the boy, Coryo only saw anger, distrust, selfishness. But knowing that he had to stand by back in District Twelve and wait for the news of his sister's death, maybe even watch it live, Coryo can now see that not only did it anger and scare him, but it traumatized him almost as much as it did you. The boy sitting next to him was nothing more than a kid who had lost his best friend. Who lost his sister.

"I..." Coryo stammers, waves of realization hitting him like he's run into a brick wall. "I had no choice." He says quietly to spare the driver's ears, and Lennox snaps his head back up to look at him.

Long gone was the sadness that told the story of who he had been while you were here fighting for your life a few months ago. Now, his eyes were ice cold, red from the tears that he didn't let fall.

"You're gonna have to explain before I tear every piece of that strangely white hair from your big head, Coryo."

Subconsciously, Coryo reaches up to make sure his hair is still styled the way he had just done it before he left as he swallows. "You know what happened to that peacekeeper?" He leans closer to say it so they won't be heard.

Lennox is scanning his face for any sign he could be lying. "And Billy Taupe?" He prompts him, the sad look flickering back in his eyes for only a moment. You had told Coryo about the relationship your family had with the Covey children, he hadn't even considered how your brother would handle the death of one of his closest friends without his big sister there to help. He lost you both in one night- that couldn't have been an easy pill to swallow, especially when he had only just got you back.

Coryo nodded slightly, looking up quickly to make sure one more time that the driver wasn't watching in the mirror.

"She was there." He explains it in as few words as possible. "And I knew if anyone found that out, if anyone saw her, the finger would be pointed her way."

"Did you kill them?" Lennox asks quietly.

Coryo shakes his head. "No, but I did hold one of the guns. She's the only reason I didn't. She wouldn't let me."

"Who did?"

"Spruce, I think his name is, but I shouldn't be telling you any of this."

Lennox gives him a solemn nod. "It's fine. I'm the one who hid the guns. Spruce brought them to the house and I ran everything out to the lake that night. Was sleepin' like a rock when Y/N/N came to pack all her stuff, I'd only been home for an hour or so." He explains, wiping a hand over his face as he remembers making that familiar hike in the dark. "They got Spruce, he was done the next day but I promise they'll never find any evidence connecting to you guys."

Coryo nods, internally sighing in relief.

"It's all secrets, now." Lennox adds, and Coryo knows what he means by that.

"What kind of secrets will she find at the bottom of the lake?" His own question is echoed back to him, but now he knows the answer.

"But if I knew it coulda connected you, maybe I would have left them somewhere more obvious."

Coryo doesn't expect the small smile that forms on your brother's lips. It was a threat, but first and foremost it was a joke.

"I'll be honest, I panicked." Coryo admits. "I couldn't just leave her there not knowing what would happen to her. I had to keep her safe, and bringing her back with us was the only way I knew how."

"I coulda protected her." Lennox insists, but the shake in his voice indicates that he knows that isn't necessarily true.

"I know." Coryo agrees anyway. "And I know it sounds like I'm lying to you but I mean it when I say I just want to help her. To give her a better future."

"Maybe," Lennox's jaw tenses and he slightly shakes his head. "But that doesn't mean you can treat her like she's nothin' to you. Especially if you actually care about her, which I am still skeptical of- for the record."

"I do." He assures your brother. "It's just... I don't expect you to understand but it is extremely complicated. There's a lot of pressure on me to keep the impression that our relationship is... professional."

"The hell you mean, 'professional?' She loves you. She loves you more than she should and you don't deserve that from her. Even if you saved her life, she doesn't owe you anything."

"I know." Coryo says again. "You're right. I won't deny that, but I need you to trust me when I say that everything I have to do, I'm doing it for her- so the Games didn't just chew her up and spit her out for nothing. She saved my life- and all I have to repay her with is my name. So I'm trying my hardest to do that."

Your brother is quiet for a moment. "Do you love her?"

"Yes," Coryo answers without a moment's hesitation. "More than I ever thought it was even possible to love another person, and I've known that since long before she ever set foot in that arena."

When Lennox doesn't reply, staring at him and trying to decide whether or not he believes it, he continues.

"I risked everything for her to win. I gave her that scarf, the rat poison, I even put something of hers into the snake tank so they wouldn't hurt her even if they caught her." He explains. "I was told before the reaping that if we cheated to help our tributes, we would have no shot at any kind of viable future but when it came down to it I didn't even consider another option because I could not live in a world without your sister."

Your brother's eyes soften as they find his again, a subtle nod indicating his understanding.

"She's... she's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning. I love her more than I could ever explain to you, Lennox. Please, even if you never trust me again, trust me right now." Coryo pleads. "I would never want to hurt her, and the fact that I have is killing me every moment she is not here."

Lennox straightens up, looking out the window as the university campus comes into their view. "I think she's the one who really needs to know that. Don't you?"

Coryo looks out the window, nodding in silent agreement and chewing on the inside of his cheek as the car comes to a stop for him to get out.

"By the way," Lennox says, that smug smile returning to his lips. "You spend too much time with my sister. 'She's like a book whose pages I never tire of turning'." He mocks his voice, using finger quotations to make his point and polishing it off with a scoff. "Never say anything like that again, Coryo. That's corny, even for Y/N."

Coryo laughs slightly. "Noted." He agrees, pushing the door open.

Armed with the information that you did still love him and maybe your brother wouldn't be hunting him down just yet for hurting you, he heads into the building looking forward to finding you for lunch.

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okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

also this taglist is closed now!! if you’d like to get a notification when i update, turn on my post notifications!! i promise i won’t spam y'all :,)

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pedroshotwifey · 1 day

Note

Hello lovely. Can I request #36 and Frankie please?

Thank you thank you

Hey, babe!! So I did something a bit different since I had two requests with the same number, and ended up making Frankie a sub in this one! If it’s not your thing or you simply don’t like it, there are absolutely no hard feelings and I would be glad to rewrite it with a sub reader ❤️

Pairing: Sub!Frankie Morales x Dom!F!reader

Tags/warnings: toys (dildo, cockring), anal sex (m), piv sex, dom reader, orgasm denial, top reader, sweet nicknames, fluff, smut, degrading names (once), probably overstimulation, double penetration (not rly lol i just think im funny)

W/C: 1.6k

Summary: Frankie gives you control for the night and you make sure he gets the most out of it.

Needy

“Oh, what a good boy,” you coo as you walk into your bedroom, peeling off your coat as you go. The sight that greets you is indeed worthy of your praise.

Frankie is sitting naked on the bed, his chest flushed where he’s leaned up against the headboard. His cock is in one hand, red and swollen from the multiple orgasms you already know he’s denied himself of—just as you’d instructed in the text you sent him when you left your work an hour before. He’s even put a cock ring at the base to make sure he follows your rules.

You made sure to be specific. It’s not often that Frankie requests for you to be in charge, but when he does, it’s usually because he’s trying to get his mind off of something. So you always do the best you can to completely take on the part and distract him. You love it when he’s in the more dominant spot, but you also love getting to be in control every once in a while. And you know Frankie does, too.

You pass him without a second glance and walk to the desk to drape your coat over the chair. “Are you enjoying yourself?”

You huff a small laugh through your nose when you get no response. “You can talk, baby boy,” you tell him. You do take note of his good behavior, though. He waited for you to give him permission, just as he should have.

“Yes, I’m enjoying myself,” he breathes, and you can hear the eager truth in it.

You turn back around and smile at him. “I’m glad.” You start to strip out of your clothes, thinking about how you want tonight to go. A grin spreads across your face as you kick your shoes off, but you keep it out of sight of Frankie for now. “Go get one of your toys. Let’s make this even better,” you instruct.

Frankie tries to hide his own excited smile as he slips from the bed, but you see it. “What kind?” he asks.

“Any one you want, baby.”

You’re stripped down to your bra and panties by the time Frankie returns with a smallish dildo and a bottle of lube. He brings them both to you and you reach up to plant a small kiss to his lips. “Perfect. Go get back on the bed for me.”

He watches you for a moment, letting his gaze linger on yours for a moment before nodding and walking back to the bed. You swat his ass as he goes, which makes him shoot you a glare, and you raise an eyebrow in playful warning. You strip the rest of the way before you join him, toy in hand.

“Alright, show me,” you tell him as you climb onto the bed in front of him. His cheeks flush a bit, but he does as you say and parts his thighs, lifting them up and apart enough with his hands to reveal his asshole to you. You smile and lick your lips. He looks gorgeous, his weeping cock resting against the rolls of his stomach as it gets scrunched from his positioning.

“Ask me to open you up, sweetheart.”

His throat bobs before he indulges you. “P-please open me up,” he obeys quietly. His poor cock twitches as the words leave his mouth, betraying how aroused he is despite the sliver of embarrassment he’s showcasing.

“What’s that, honey?” you taunt. “Speak up for me.”

“Please open me up,” he looks into your eyes as he begs, letting you see the desperation there.

“Okay, I’ve got you, sweet boy.”

You pop open the bottle of lube, squeezing some onto your fingers before using your other hand to warm it. Frankie’s breathing picks up as you trail one hand down his cock and all the way down to his tight hole, where you insert your middle finger. He bites his lip at the intrusion, his face already contorting with the relief of having something inside of him. A few pumps, and you let a second one join, making him moan and squeeze around you.

“There we go,” you coo proudly. “Doing so good for me.”

He keens at your praise, eyebrows knotting together even as he does his best to keep his brown eyes open and pleading. You start to scissor your fingers, and his legs slip as his hips buck, trying to get you deeper. You laugh and slip him another finger.

“Needy boy.”

You finger him faster, crooking your fingers and finding that spot that makes him whine so prettily. You wait until he’s panting and starting to sweat before you remove your fingers, smiling wickedly as he protests. “N-no, please!”

“Just wait, honey, you’ll like this better,” you assure him as you reach behind you for the dildo. You coat it generously with lube and bring it to his hole, watching his eyes roll back as you start to slip it in. It’s not very big, but you know it’s his favorite because it always settles against his prostate and makes him see stars. He has bigger ones, but they just don’t hit the spot like this one does.

You slip it all the way to the base, listening to Frankie’s sweet moans tumble from his lips. When it’s in all the way, you don’t pull it out, but instead take your hands away and help him lay his legs back down comfortably. You can tell he’s questioning you, but he doesn’t voice it. You can see the exact moment it hits him right because he lets out a strangled yelp as his weight pulls him down on it.

He’s almost too distracted in trying not to drool to notice you taking his cockring off. You lean over him and set it on the nightstand, and then climb onto his lap and line the tip of his cock up with your already soaked cunt.

You love the way his eyes widen when he realizes what you’re doing, the panic that flashes through them as he realizes that he’s not going to be able to handle it all. You’re slipping down onto him before he can say anything, however, already moaning at the familiar stretch.

“Oh you feel soo good, Frankie,” you purr. Frankie just whines and grips the sheets, dueling his composure as he focuses on not coming the second you’re fully seated. Your toes curl at the feeling of him so deep inside of you, and you smirk upon knowing how he must feel right now.

You put your hands on his shoulders and use your knees to lift up slightly, and when you bounce back down, Frankie moans in a way that you swear should be fake. But it’s not. Because you know that as soon as you pushed back down, that toy he’s seated on slammed into his prostate.

It’s genius, honestly, and you’re not exactly sure how you haven’t thought of this before, keeping him sandwiched and forcing every thought from his pretty head. You moan when you look back down at his face. He looks thoroughly fucked, and you haven’t even started. His body is covered in sweat already, revealing his struggle.

You don’t show any mercy as you start to bounce atop him, focusing on getting his cockhead to slam into you just right. The sounds that he makes are filthy and unlike anything you’ve heard before. He’s whining and groaning and panting and moaning and you can’t get enough. Trapped between two sources of pleasure, you don’t think he can get enough, either.

“Oh, there you go, baby. You moan like such a pretty little whore for me,” you paint the words onto his lips, and he seals them with a sloppy kiss. You slip your tongue into his hot mouth, and you devour him as you start to feel your high approaching. His whines turn even more high pitched, and you know he’s there with you. Your fingers find your clit, and you start to rub tight circles to get you closer.

You quicken your pace, tightening that coil in your abdomen until it snaps and you squeeze like a vice around Frankie. His entire body jolts as he comes with you, moaning wildly and trembling the entire way through. His arms come up to wrap around you, his hips buck repeatedly—though you’re not sure whether he’s trying to get away from the senses, or get more.

You moan right along with him as you ride out your orgasm. Tears are streaming down his face, and you can’t help but lean forward and lick up one of the trails through your pleasured state. He feels so fucking good pulsing inside of you and filling you with his seed, even after you come down from your high.

You wait until his body stops shaking before you reluctantly slip off of him and scoot back to pull the dildo out. A string of warm lube comes with it, and the sight is almost enough to make you want to do it all over again. But you don’t, you instead toss the toy carelessly off the edge of the bed and lean forward again to gently kiss Frankie, who’s finally settling down a bit.

You’re glad the fan is on above you, cooling your bare skin as you lay down with Frankie, who has a massive, blissed-out grin on his face. You cuddle up with him, just as he likes to do right after sex.

“How was that, baby?” you ask, a little nervous since you went a bit harder this time.

“Fucking perfect,” he laughs quietly. “Thank you.” He moves over you and kisses you softly, cradling your cheek with one of his large palms. You smile into it, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and basking in the bliss of simply holding him.

******

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#pedro pascal #fan fiction #ao3 #pedro pascal smut #smut #pedro pascal characters #tbr #fluff #pedro pascal fanfiction #frankie morales fluff #frankie morales x you #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie catfish morales #dom reader #sub pedro pascal #requested fic #fic request

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siampie · 2 days

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Risk and Reward||Chapter 5: Starving

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: You and Matt are slowly finding your rhythm and you can’t get enough of one another.

Warnings/tags: fluff, idiots in love, childhood trauma

A/N: Not much to say about this chapter, just enjoy people. Comments and reblogs are much appreciated.

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Tag list: @marytheweefrenchie, @sunflowersandsapphires, @abbyhaslongshorts, @schneeflocky, @danzer8705;

@ebathory997,

Dividers by @cafekitsune

Song the title is referring to:

I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you

Don’t need no butterflies when you give me the whole damn zoo

By the way, right away, you do things to my body

I didn’t know that I was starving till I tasted you

“It’s not like that.” You sighed into the phone.

“No, no—It is like that.” Amelia retorted. You could picture her shaking her head, in mock disappointment. “Now that you have a boyfriend, you’re abandoning me at lunch time. So, you can eat with him. You’re choosing him over me.”

“Why are you so dramatic? We ate together yesterday.” You groaned as you stepped into the coffee shop, nearest to Matt’s office. “And I wouldn’t call Matt ‘my boyfriend,’ we haven’t decided on labels, yet.”

“What do you mean you haven’t decided on labels, yet?” Amelia questioned.

You rolled your eyes. You placed your orders, and moved to the side to wait for it. “We have been on only one date so far. So, no, there hadn’t been any talks about labels. We’re just—”

“Ah, young love.” Amelia sighed dreamily. “You know what, I forgive you. Go get your man, Babe.”

“And I’m the weird one.” You chuckled.

You and Matt had been on your first date almost a week ago. And you had not seen much of each other since. Keeping in contact through texts and calls. You had not been able to forget about the feel of his lips against yours. Or his calloused fingers on your skin. Matt did not know you were joining him for lunch. You wanted to keep it a surprise. You only hoped it would be a good one.

You pushed the door to Nelson, Murdock and Page lawfirm opened and was met with a quite busy waiting room. It seemed you couldn’t have chosen a worse day to show up unannounced. The door to Foggy’s office opened as he let out a client. You moved away from the door as Foggy walked his client to the door. He sent a quick smile your way while doing so.

He clasped his hands, grinning at you. “Tell me those are for us?” He said pointing at the paper bag in your hands.

“In fact, they are.” You smiled back at him. “Special delivery of bagels and coffee. I also brought some lunch for you, guys.”

He took the bag from you, opened it and smelled the contents. The tension in his shoulders releasing greatly. “You’re a life saver.”

“Not really.” You chuckled, waving him off.

“Ah, I see. You’re here for your lover boy.” Foggy teased you.

“I was hoping but—I can see you, guys, are pretty busy.” You replied quickly. “I should—leave you to it.” You said your hand moving to the doorknob, disappointed that you didn’t get to see him. “Could you—?”

“Oh, come on. Don’t be ridiculous.” Foggy pulled you away from the door and into the small kitchen. “I’ll tell Matt you’re here.”

“Foggy, you don’t have to.” You stopped him. “I can come at another time or call him. You don’t need to—”

“You came all this way; you can’t just leave like that.” Foggy said. “I’m sure Matt can spare a few minutes for his girlfriend.”

“His girlfriend?” You repeated.

“Hey,” Karen came to join you in the kitchenette. “I didn’t know you were coming,” She smiled at you.

“I was trying to surprise Matt.” You nodded.

“And she brought coffee.” Foggy said handing her a cup.

“Thank God!” Karen sipped from her cup. “I really needed that.”

“That bad, uh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Okay, I’ll let Matt know you’re here.” Foggy touched your arm briefly. “And then, I’ll go back into the fray.”

“Thanks.” You smiled at him. “See ya.” You turned to Karen; she was savoring her coffee. “Is it always that busy?”

“Not always.” Karen shook her head. “But some days are busier than others.”

“I can see that.” You hummed. “I mean at least it’s good for business, right?”

“Well, it’s mostly pro-bono work;” Karen explained. “But yeah, lately, we’ve had more paying clients.”

“Sweetheart?” Matt stepped in the kitchenette.

Your breath hitched in your throat when you laid your eyes on him. The sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up, exposing his muscular forearms. His charming smile split his face in two. And you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

“Hi, Matthew.” You greeted, his hand already reaching out to you. You placed your hand in his reaching one.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two alone.” Karen resting a hand against Matt’s shoulder and squeezing it gently. “And thanks again for the coffee.”

“You’re welcome.”

“You brought coffee?” Matt questioned.

You nodded. “Yeah.” You placed a cup in his hands.

Matt took a sniff of the coffee. “Thank you, you’re a savior.”

You snorted. “I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just coffee.” You turned to the table. “And lunch.” Matt took a sip. “You can have it as soon as you have a minute to yourself.”

“How did you know that—uh—we—?”

“I didn’t.” You shook your head. “I was just hoping to surprise you for lunch. But I see now that I should have probably called first.” You dropped your gaze to the floor.

“Hey,” His hand went up and down your arm as he stepped closer. “It wouldn’t have been a surprise if you had.”

“Still, I should have called anyway.” You turned your gaze back on his face.

His free hand cupped your face, his calloused fingers ever so gentle. Standing so close to him, his scent wrapped around you. He smelled slightly of salt, much more like sweat, and of cinnamon. You couldn’t decide it was his natural scent or a perfume he wore.

A smile slowly made its way onto his face. “I’m glad you came.” His lips met your cheek in a soft peck. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.” Your own smile mirroring his, once more. Your eyes landed on the people waiting behind him. And cleared your throat. “I should let you get back to work. People are waiting.”

Matt nodded, his thumb stroking the apple of your cheek. You leant into his touch. “I’m really glad you came.” He said, your hand rested on his wrist. “I’m just sorry we couldn’t have lunch together.”

“It’s okay.” You retorted. “We can have lunch at another time.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” You nodded with a grin.

He put his cup down and pulled you into his arms. His nose buried in the crook of your neck, as yours did his. You inhaled deeply, his scent invading your senses now. Under the stronger fragrances of salt and cinnamon, there was a light touch of leather. You reluctantly pulled away from him.

You spoke. “Talk to you later?”

“Sure.” Matt agreed.

“See you later, Matty.” You smiled at him one last time before walking out.

It wasn’t a total disappointment. Although, you didn’t get to spent your lunch with him, you did get to see him. And that was everything you were truly hoping for.

Your visit had indeed surprised him, in the best way. Since their office had opened that morning, he had not stopped. Between appointments with clients on current affairs, or the new clients coming in for councils, they had not had a minute for themselves. The sweet sound of your voice had eased the tension in his shoulders greatly. He had tried not to rush his appointment with his client but he didn’t want to miss an opportunity to spend a few minutes with you.

He heard your breath hitched when you laid eyes on him, how your heart had sped up when he stepped closer. He felt how you leaned into his touch. The way you reacted to him never failed to fascinate him. And he couldn’t wait to see how well you responded to his touch and more.

The touch of lavender and citrus in your scent had been stronger. There were traces of salt, in your scent, from your sweating. Breathing in your smell had relaxed him even further. And of course, he couldn’t resist hugging you and burying his nose in your neck. He couldn’t resist breathing more of your scent.

Your scent had lingered long after you left their office. The hints of lavender and citrus had gotten stuck in the small hairs in his nostrils. Each time, he inhaled he could smell you. You had been a welcomed distraction and a small reprieve in this hectic day.

“Matt?” Foggy had called his name, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“Yeah?” Matt retorted with a frown.

“So, what do you say?” Foggy asked him.

“About?”

Foggy and Karen glanced at each other smirking. “You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?”

“Of course not, Foggy. He’s too busy thinking about our visitor.” Karen joked.

Matt chuckled lightly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, you don’t.” The air shifted around Karen as she nodded, swallowing her food. “It’s a miracle you got any work done after her visit.”

“Speaking the truth as always, Miss Page.” Foggy agreed.

“Is she now?” Matt smirked.

“Look, buddy, I’ve seen you with a lot of women in the past. And God knows there were many,” Karen rolled her eyes at his statement. “But I’ve never seen you smile so much since you met her.” He turned to Karen quickly. “No offense.”

“None taken.” Karen waved him off. “Foggy’s right, though. Looks like you really like her.”

Matt smiled fondly. “I do. A lot, actually.”

“Well, I’m happy for you, buddy.” Foggy slapped a hand on his shoulder. “You deserve it.”

“Thanks Fog.”

“And are you gonna tell her about Daredevil?” Karen questioned cautiously.

“Oof.” He puffed out, leaning back in his chair. “The thought had crossed my mind but—um—I don’t think it’s a good idea. Not now anyway.”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning; I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it.”

This relationship was new still. And he did like you but he needed to know you more. He needed to know that he could trust you with his heart. It had been through so much already. So many losses. He needed to be sure about his feelings and yours. If he ever was to tell you about his nightly activities, he needed to make sure you were in it for the long run.

The Devil wasn’t just something he became at night, to fight crimes. The Devil was a part of him. Something he needed to be. And that knowledge alone wasn’t readily accepted by those surrounding him. Knowing all of him had put his friends in danger in the past. Knowing all of him wasn’t safe.

Would he really share this part of him with you? Was he really willing to risk your safety?

Your attempt to surprise Matt had been a sign, you thought. Maybe, it was too early in your relationship with Matt for this sort of gestures. It was sweet but it might be seen as a sign of clinginess by others. In your past relationships, you either was the one who felt too much or the one who didn’t feel enough. There were no in-betweens for you. In either case, the relationship had ended because of you. You had been broken up with because you were too much. Because you loved too much. And you had broken up with others because you couldn’t feel the sparks. Because you felt nothing but indifference. The relationship just didn’t do it for you. In either case, you were the bad guy.

You did not wish a repeat of this pattern with Matt. You really wanted to know where this thing between the two of you could go. He had not seemed put off by your attempt, you tried to reason yourself. He had actually admitted to missing you. Just as you did him. Maybe, Matt was the kind of person that could feel as intensely as you did. Or at least you hoped so.

His dark frames were laying on the table beside his wine glass. A second date had been set up by Matt within that same week, he had taken you to a small Italian restaurant. The place was buzzing with people; laughing and chattering away. You were both wrapped in the delicious smell of the food.

Matt had looked dashing as always. Your eyes couldn’t leave his face once, especially after he had taken his glasses off. His sightless eyes seemed to always fall somewhere around your collarbone. The conversations ever so flowing between you. And if it did become quiet, it was never uncomfortable. And that was your favorite thing so far with Matt. You didn’t feel as though you needed to say anything to fill the silence. It wasn’t needed. Matt seemed to be content with it, as much as you were.

“You tested it out?” Matt asked you in disbelief.

“Listen, you don’t tell your children that sort of things and hope for the best.” You retorted. “I mean what did he expect?”

“Not for you to try it out, I guess.”

“True.” You nodded. “Anyway, my brothers and I went in the park by our house and decided to do it. We climbed the tallest tree we could. And jumped.”

“And?” Matt smiled at you.

“I can’t speak for my brothers, but I landed on my toes. And didn’t break any bones.” You shrugged. “I’d say my father was right about that one.”

“Realistically, how tall was the tallest tree?” Matt teased you.

“Probably thirty-five feet at least. Forty-five at most.” You replied; “And we didn’t actually climb that high. Still, we were kids and it was really high for us at the time.” You winced at the sound of your voice. “Sorry, that was loud.” You apologized quietly, looking around you nervously.

“Don’t apologize.” Matt shook his head; his smile had shifted into something softer and affectionate. “I quite like the sound of your voice.”

You huffed out a laugh. “You do?”

“I do.” He nodded; leaning his arms on the table. “Your voice always sounds beautiful and—uh—gentle. It’s how I see you. And—um—you have a way to make things easier when it gets too loud.”

Your heart raced beneath your ribcage; your breath caught in your throat. You were totally disarmed by the simplicity and the beauty with which it was delivered. His words were genuine, which you knew by now, was his personality trait. His words made you feel important, they made you feel—

“How do you keep on doing this?” You said under your breath.

“Doing what?” He leaned closer.

“I don’t know, you—uh—you have a way to take my breath away.” You quietly admitted. “To make me feel—seen, somehow.”

“Is it a bad thing?” He questioned.

“No, it’s not—it’s just—uhm—” You paused.

“What?” He encouraged you.

“No one has ever made feel quite like that before.” You let out breathless.

His smile dropped slightly; and he reached over for your hand, weaving his fingers with yours. “Well, I do. I see you. In my own way, of course but—I see you.”

Being seen meant being important. Matt Murdock was blind. But he saw you, in spite of that. Better than some. And that was why you were more willing to believe him. He had no reasons to lie. Every word coming out of his mouth, complimenting you, were disarmingly honest. Which made it really hard not to get overly attached so quickly. And that was terrifying.

The way you felt about him was something you never quite experienced before. Matt Murdock might have already ruined you. Because you didn’t think you could settle for anything less after this. You didn’t want to.

At the foot of your building, Matt and you were reluctant to part ways. Your arms have found their way around his neck. His arms wrapped around your waist. His nose brushed against yours.

“I really enjoyed tonight.” He whispered while your fingers grazed the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Me too.” You smiled, your breath fanning over his lips. “Very.”

He grinned before his lips brushed against yours. Butterflies burst into your stomach; your heart hammered in your chest. You were convinced that Matt could feel it through his shirt. One of your hands travelled down his spine, stopping at the small of his back, pulling him into you. His lips parted slightly, allowing your tongue to slip inside. His arms tightened around you, his hands moving along your spine. Lingering, as a moan made its way out of his lips. The sound made your heated core ache for more of it, eliciting a groan out of you.

You reluctantly pulled away from him, breathless, his lips chasing yours. “That was—”

“Hot?” He supplied, cupping your face. His fingers grazed the back of your neck, his thumb brushing against your pulsing point.

“Yeah,” You breathed out. “We should probably—”

“Yeah, we should.” His nose brushed yours.

“I don’t—I really want to—" His lips brushed yours briefly. “Believe me,” You exhaled a shaky breath. “But I just don’t want to rush things.”

His mouth connected with yours once again, in a sweet and small kiss. “It’s okay.” He pulled back slightly. “We can take our time. I’m not going anywhere.” His words sounding like a promise.

“Good to hear.”

No woman had truly made him weak at the knees, quite like you had done that night. The smell of your arousal in the air, the way you had pulled him against you. The way you had briefly taken control had left him breathless and wanting more of it. More of this side of you.

Matt considered himself as someone who had the ability to ruin the good things in his life. No matter how hard he tried to protect them, disaster found its way to them. And he didn’t want disaster to find its way to you. He knew he wouldn’t last though. Not if he decided to let you know about the Devil. This could wait however. Most of all, he wanted you to feel safe with him, and to trust him. He’d give you the time you needed.

Friday nights at Josie’s were something you always was looking forward to. Especially if you needed to unwind after a long week. And—you got to spent more time with Matt. There had been a few more dates in the following weeks. Matt and you were starting to find your rhythm with one another. You had not spoken about labels yet but you were fine with it.

Your naked thigh pressed against his, one of his hands had slipped down to rest on your bare thigh. Throughout the night, his hand would affectionately squeeze your leg under the table. You laced your arm with his, pecking his clothed shoulder. You never thought of yourself as a very tactile person. Growing up, your father had not shown affection much. There were no hugs, no kisses. Nothing. So, of course, over the years it had not come easily. You had thought of yourself as someone who couldn’t stand the touch of another person. And there had been moments when you did recoil at someone else’s touch. Only because you barely knew them, and they did make you uncomfortable. But you would soon find that you were, in spite of your beliefs, a very tactile person.

Or maybe it was simply a consequence of being touch starved. And now you were seeking affections in any way possible. Only if you were allowed to. Not everyone was comfortable with touch. Your sister didn’t like hugs, neither did your best friend. The only way for you to receive a hug from them, was for them to initiate it. Otherwise, they would push you away.

You weren’t afraid to be tactile with Matt. It seemed he was craving the affection as much as you had. A smile always making its way onto his face, anytime you did. As though he was taking pride in your being comfortable enough to do so.

You took a deep breath outside of Josie’s bar. You had a couple of beers in you, feeling slightly tipsy. You said your goodbyes to your friends as you parted ways on the sidewalk. You laced your arm with his as you started towards your apartment building.

“I have a question.” You said after a few minutes. Matt hummed softly, his cane tapping along on the sidewalk. “Are we girlfriend and boyfriend?” You looked up to him.

“Do you want us to be?” Matt questioned, coming to a stop.

You turned to face him and stepped closer, your arms encircling his middle. “Yes. I’d like to introduce you as more than just a guy I’m seeing.” A boyish grin appeared on Matt’s face. “I want you to be my boyfriend. And I’d like to be your girlfriend.”

He cupped your face, looking through you affectionately. “I’d like that too.”

“Yeah?” You grinned, tightening your arms around him.

He leaned down towards you, gently cradling your face as he closed the distance. “Yeah.” His lips met yours in a soft kiss.

“Would you—um, like to stay over tonight?” You asked once you pulled away.

Matt would love for nothing more. He knew what you were hoping for, he wanted the same thing. However, he still needed to go out as Daredevil. Something, you had yet to know about.

“Not tonight.” He said quietly, leaning in to kiss you again.

“Oh,”

You felt the pang of disappointment, the sting of rejection. You tried to reason that maybe he wasn’t ready. That he probably wanted to wait for a better time, make it special maybe. You tried to reason that there were no reasons for you to feel rejected. Especially right after you both had agreed to be boyfriend and girlfriend.

“Next time, then?”

“Promise.”

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#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock fluff #daredevil x reader #matt murdock fic #matt murdock x fem!reader #Spotify

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sometimes-love-is-enough · 1 day

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Syzygy: Some Closing Thoughts

I'm writing this at 8pm on my backyard porch, under the wavering light of a distant full moon. Hello, moon! Please don't kidnap me. I just wanted to hang out with you for a while as I collect my final thoughts. It's a pretty cloudy night tonight, so it's not properly visible, which I suppose is the cloud cover shielding me from a terrible lunar fate. It gives a deliciously hazy atmosphere for the absolute essay I'm about to write.

Apparently, the Farmer's Almanac says that tonight's full moon is a 'Pink Moon', which sounds like it'd be a very pleasant viewing experience. I imagine pastel frangipanis spontaneously sprouting all over the moon's surface, covering every inch of its rocks and crags until the soft pink glow is visible from all the way down here on Earth. Unfortunately it's not named 'Pink Moon' because of that; there's some American environmental factors, etc.

I think it's kind of charming that there's a list of names for every possible full moon, as if the moon's putting on different masks or incarnations every time it tilts just enough that we can see its full face. I'm looking at a list of them now instead of writing these final notes like I probably should. The names are so delightful. Strawberry Moon. Sturgeon Moon. Apparently last month's full moon was Worm Moon. WORM MOON. I could go on. I won't. Let's talk about Syzygy instead.

Syzygy is... Man, where do I even start with this? Let's try the beginning. I started writing Syzygy in February of 2021, after ruminating on it for probably a few months before that, as I often do. That's three years ago, so my memories of the reasons why are a bit fuzzy, but I think I did it for two reasons: one, a desire to have a long-form meaty slowburn fic for a beloved rarepair in the tag so other people could enjoy it, and two, a fascination with the idea of fractured identity, what it means to be a Side without a Centre. The whole thing with the alternate-history steampunk swapped-around Earth came about naturally from that.

Except that's actually kind of a lie, because that's not the beginning, this began in 2020, when I wrote a pitch for a local station that was accepting radio play submissions (rejected, of course) featuring a hardboiled noir detective in a starlit city whose latest client was a tiny shiny girl asking him to solve her father's murder. And that's also a lie, because I think it really began when I tried to write an original novel in high school where the protagonist's name was Avery Allen, because I liked the way the name tripped off my lips.

My stories are always built on each other, especially stories I never get to write. They all recycle into each other in a weird blend of concepts and characters. 2021 was when I sat down and told myself I was going to write the Thomceit time loop fic, and I dove into it with aplomb. I can't recall the exact timeline of events, but at some point I underwent some truly gnarly health problems that left me unable to use my hands for extended periods of time, and so the fic that was meant to be for a Big Bang ended up... Just sitting in a folder for a while. But me and my beta managed to pull it the fuck together, and after adding some extra bits and pieces (the cutaways were a LAST MINUTE ADDITION even though I think they're some of my favorite bits in the whole thing) I started putting it all up.

Okay, there we go, that's enough of an abridged history of this thing. Let's just say: I never expected as many people to like it as it turned out, I thought that it would be a niche little fic for a rarepair, and I was honestly pretty content with that. So it was delightful to see so many people getting so into it, I have enjoyed the FUCK out of all of your comments and theories and predictions. It's been delightful when people predicted a plot point correctly, and honestly even more delightful when they predicted incorrectly. I've had such a blast.

As for the writing... Suffice to say I have many notebooks full of notes and thoughts, more than one spreadsheet to keep track of time loops and lore, and a semi-complete list of all of Virgil's tarot cards, which one day I'll probably polish and share properly, because I think the concept is neat. But that's kind of how it always goes with my writing.

Naming every inspiration for this would take forever and I'd still miss a few, but I'll just throw out a key few ones, because I gotta:

17776: What Will Football Look Like In The Future, because when I first read it I got the wrong idea and thought that Juice (Jupiter Icy Moons Explorer) was short for Betelgeuse (the star), and that sparked a whole thing about living stars in my brain. Also, just the general way that the worldbuilding and absurdity is handled in that world, it scratches my brain just right.

Welcome To Night Vale. I don't think I need to explain this one.

Madeleine L'Engle's writing, particularly A Wind In The Door, particularly-particularly the bit of it where Proginoskes explains why, precisely, he has to remember and Name every star in the universe. Fucking beautiful book.

A particular Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi fic I read years ago and haven't been able to track down again, which also features two people stuck in a time loop who are initially unaware that they're in it together AND dying at the same time. I believe they also meet on a bus? The details are fuzzy. The worldbuilding and descriptions of that fic were so stunning to me, it had me unable to read anything for a solid few weeks, it is definitely a superior work to mine in every respect. If anyone finds it, let me know, I don't think I finished reading it and want to know how it ends.

An unpublished fic that I had the privilege to read while it was being written, that changed my brain chemistry re: the Sides unknowingly existing without Thomas. The Flowerwall Cafe originally hails from this one, too, graciously borrowed and greatly beloved.

Both Ghibli films in general AND Dianna Wynne Jones books in general, and obviously the intersection between the two, Howl's Moving Castle, which is fascinating in how both mediums handle the setting.

The Doctor Who audio drama Scherzo, which is a wild ride, and there's a major plot point revolving around the two main characters holding hands and fusing gruesomely into each other - and another involving an in-story fairy tale.

There was no huge inspiration for the clockwork city and weird steampunk carriages, apart from (perhaps) Fallen London. Certainly, the idea of a background organization that wants to kill the sun, who also happens to be a sentient being, is cribbed from the Liberation of Night.

Syzygy also happens to be packed full of many obscure references to... like... personal projects of mine, some published and some unpublished, as well as a lot of my friends and co-writers, and some really REALLY niche stuff that only I will ever properly understand. I buried a lot of myself into this story, is what I'm saying. Juice hails from a completely different project (a TTRPG with my friends, of which she is a beloved and cherished NPC), the in-universe author for Avery Allen (and Mallory Wynn too) are named for a fictional TV author I created when the writing discord was making a nonexistent fandom, Logan's dumpling recipe is my favorite recipe of all time.

I have an apartment ghost, too. I talk to it regularly.

Final thank-yous, because I want to post this very very soon, I've been typing for too long and the mosquitoes are starting to get to me. Thank you to:

Everyone on the TSS writing server who listened to me complain while I was writing it the first time round, and has subsequently listened to me complain while editing it these past two years. So many people in there are responsible for little bits and pieces - phrasings, words, nicknames, jokes - and I couldn't begin to name everyone who helped.

Saphira and the rest of the people who are currently working on making a full-cast audio drama out of this fic (???) (???!!!!??) (!!!!). It is SO baffling to me that it's happening, I'm in complete disbelief whenever we talk about it or I see the script or I get asked logistics questions, I'm terrified and thrilled to see how it turns out, what the fuck! The very existence of that project has ended up influencing a few things about this fic's endgame, too.

Everyone who's commented extensively, commented entire academic analyses, commented numbered lists, commented laconically, left a single emoji in the comments, left kudos, bookmarked it, sent me asks on Tumblr, given me thumbs-ups on Discord, or even just silently read the fic without interacting at all. Your witness brings my words to existence. Love you love you love you.

And Len, who lives in my brain and my body and my heart and my throat, and who is honestly singlehandedly responsible for dragging this fic out of the depths of Google Docs and into the arms of AO3. They've already said I don't need to thank them, but come on, I totally do. Len is the best beta, and puts up with all sorts of deranged nonsense from me, because I have an unhinged writing process where I don't think about anything before I put it down on the page, and I use way too many connecting-dashes and not enough semicolons. Kisses kisses kisses. Thanks for doing this with me, and I can't wait to do it again.

Myself. I managed to write this and I managed to finish it. That makes me a pretty cool person, all things considered. I'm glad I did this.

What next? I've got to rest. Well, I need to get some things done... and then rest. I've been juggling a hellish amount of projects for a while now, and now Syzygy's finally cleared from my plate, I'm going to try to let the others get cleared too so I can take some time and be less stressed. The Locked Tomb AU will be ongoing, as I get through final edits of chapters, so keep an eye out for that - if you're interested in a fic that's rather less starry and shiny, but very much Thomceit and death themes, check it out - and then....... Well, whatever comes next, whenever I have the energy to do it. I adore writing in this fandom. I'll be back with something weird soon enough.

Ad astra, baby! It's been a blast.

- Min (2024)

#Syzygy #author's note

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jazeswhbhaven · 14 hours

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He Never Misses! (Leraye Limited Event React I)

Okay so, here's the damn thing about this event.

I loved the amount of peeking into each noble's dynamic with each other so much and I love the fact that this is pretty much a slice-of-life approach to how a "normal" day in Gehenna was and is.

In an overall sense we get a good dose of Sitri, interesting pop-ins from Astaroth and Paimon, and a little surprise visit that had me squealing later.

This, my lovelies is 6 part reaction because I took that many damn screenshots and I honestly wish there was a better way to upload them all on one or two posts without a photo limit. BUT alas...

Make sure to grab a snacky snack, and let's dive in...to the life of long-haired Leraye~ ┬─┬(◕‿◕♡)

So we enter with Astraoth just minding his business and cruising around the palace and Sitri just comes up and starts getting onto him about not being at the palace lol

Turns out he was gone for a while because he was tending to his hobbies which is corrupting...

You hear that everyone? He corrupts anyone so keep your windows open (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

I'm really crying right now, so basically he's telling why it took particularly long this time around because he was dealing with someone who hated their dead-end job. (sounds fucking familiar right?)

nah now think about it, imagine wildly that someone at pb put that in the event as a joke when in reality somebody either once quit before or secretly a current employee can't stand work and low key just slid that idea in....buttt let's get back to the event lmao

Sitri hit 'em with the "Sorry I'll you finish but-" treatment. Though it's for good reason..

Awhhhh Roro...(yes my nickname for him leave me be) LET HIM FINISH

So basically what happened is that Sitri lost his favorite pen (rly?) it's the color of Solomon's hair and he put some of this man's hair in the ink and now he's lost it and he can't find it.

It's funny because Astaroth said the same thing as me "Why would you do that?" but he understood the sentiment behind it and was willing to give Sitri some insight on who to ask to find something like that.

LERAYE!

So our boy has crazy good eyesight. Like dangerously good to the point where I want to swap my eyes out with his because good lord I'd love a reason to not spend money on glasses with these expensive ass lenses.

So fun side note here that everyone leaves their door open except for Sitri, who most likely just likes his privacy or is used to having his door closed because perhaps the room he stayed in during Hades always had the door closed? Something along those lines I would like to think.

So now here are some nice Leraye and Paimon dynamics <3 our poor fave femboy lost his piercing recently and was asking Leraye to help find it. So it appears that either the piercing is shaped like Ppyong like the barette on his hair, or it's as big as he is, which last time I checked isn't Ppyong technically the largest red lump? (idk everyone else is pretty tiny when compared to him in the red lump family)

Okay nvm my previous thing it's shaped like Ppyong (LMAO) and this sounds cute actually, beside the fact that it becomes a fucking bomb all of the sudden (ʘ‿ʘ✿)

like imagine the TSA having a field day finding one of those...

I love how Paimon is like "Someone might die but most importantly my piercing is going to be destroyed :("

Amazing priorities bby, I support you.

Also, Astaroth is interested in how the piercing works and its explosive properties so he wants to tag along (he's so weird i love him) And Leraye with his cheery self is happy to help. So he goes to the window to start his search with those amazing eyeballs of his and his hair is blowing in the wind (imagine bouncy music in the background, his hair flowing and him humming while trying to find it)

Paimon is over here thirsting over watching him and it really fuels my "Paimon probably flirts with the nobles from time to time but he's never serious about it"

So within moments, he says he has a lead but hasn't really found it yet so the three go out looking around and well, so far not so good. This is pretty much the third time Leraye had moved positions and and updated on the status of finding the piercing and Paimon is getting a bit impatient.

You see that little pouty angry face? This event isn't voiced but I can hear him now getting all upset. But tbh I get upset too when I'm trying to find something and it's always "almost, maybe the next place it will be there"

Thanks Astaroth, really helping out here lmao

So it appears that even though he was circliing around alot he finally appears to have a lock in on the piercing's whereabouts which excites Paimon. Astraoth starts being poetic about Leraye's rooftop running and Paimon is just like-

You heard him! Stfu and get your ass movin' Roro!!! (I love how Paimon is super agitated easily when it comes to something he cares about lol)

I threw this scene in here because I was like "ah yes the devil with the good eyes I wish that were me lmao"

okay so pitt stop...because even though he's not known for his endurance he surely wasn't having a problem during his h-scene so....( ͡° ͜ʖ├┬┴┬┴

So when he's catching his breath Paimon and Astaroth catch up whose pretty much questioning how Leraye can even see this far ahead and it sounds like they traveled pretty damn far. (remember it's a flashback so Astaroth didn't know about his abilities yet)

And then out of fucking nowhere Leraye just goes to this random hole in the alleyway and throws something at Astaroth while Paimon is like omfg watch out???!!!

So we find out that it was Astaroth's snake that was in that hole just hiding out. So i noticed his name is Apophis and the described him as white but he's clearly black .-. ANYWAY.

(don't worry everyone he was just coming back from filming his role in Meg the Stallion's music video /j lol) So apparently Apophis was lost and Roro was looking for him but weren't they looking for Paimon's piercing?

Lol Apophis bites Leraye and possibly others when Astaroth isn't around and that's cute. Ofc he'd only trust his owner.

And ofc we find out that the snake has swallowed Paimon's piercing...and I'm just like. Oh yikes...so how are we getting this out? lol

So for this little scene Leraye explains plainly that he can see the shape of the piercing inside Apophis' stomach and yet the other two can't and that Leraye just assumes they can because he's naive in his thinking just like most devils, a childlike wonder and view.

And while Astaroth is reflecting on that Paimon asks for him to get the earring out which again I'm like how is he even going to do that???

┬┴┬┴┤•ᴥ•ʔ├┬┴┬┴ oh.....

he can make his voice deeper?

Me too Apophis...me too. I'm shaking, crying and throwing up.

Because think about that shit...Astaroth coming into your room to just randomly corrupt and fuck with you and even if you are corrupt he has a thing for making it even worse...and then he pulls this poetic, deep-voiced nsfw audio shit on you and now you're committing crimes you never even knew you could because of it.

BUT that stops for now with part 1, phew...only 5 more to go...! (i'm really sleepy rn so I'm going to get a couple hours of sleep and then get up and start back up again lol)

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leraye #whb astaroth #whb paimon #whb gehenna bois❤️#whb event #whb spoilers #whb screencaps #let's goooooo noble event!

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depressedhouseplant · 1 day

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🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 93 🔞

Prompt: Juyeon loses his self esteem. Hyunjin builds him back up again.

Tags: Car sex, unprotected sex (it’s me. Duh?), belly bulge

A/N: This is based on a comment Juyeon made to a fan that he feels like a 4/10 which is flat out unacceptable so I’m channeling all my feelings into Hyunjin building him back up as is right & proper.

“Why do you love me?” Juyeon asked when he got in the car with Hyunjin.

“What?” Hyunjin looked at him.

“Why do you love me?” Juyeon repeated.

“You’re smart, funny, talented, gorgeous, kind, did I mention gorgeous yet?” Hyunjin replied. “Why?”

“I dunno what it is, but I’m feeling down on myself. Like people just say I’m attractive because they’re supposed to not because they actually believe it,” Juyeon looked down at his lap.

“I’m not sure who ‘people’ are, but I’m your boyfriend and I think you’re perfect and that should count for a lot,” Hyunjin turned off the car.

“Why’d you do that?” Juyeon asked, still looking down at his lap.

“Because I want to show you how perfect you are,” Hyunjin replied, climbing over the console and into Juyeon’s lap. Juyeon’s hands found their way to Hyunjin’s hips as the pretty blonde leaned down to kiss him.

“I love you more than I could ever put into words,” Hyunjin told him.

“I’m just me,” Juyeon gave a half hearted shrug.

“And you, Lee Juyeon, are perfect. Anyone who makes you believe otherwise is a liar and an asshole,” Hyunjin rutted his hips against Juyeon’s lap as he kissed him harder. Juyeon finally reciprocated, tightening his grip on Hyunjin’s hips. “And I want to ride you until I can’t stand up.”

“What? You want to bottom?” Juyeon stared at him.

“I figured I should try it at least once. See what the entire industry was so hot to try,” Hyunjin grinned.

“But you’ve never…and I’m…” Juyeon began.

“Firstly, just because I’ve never bottomed with you doesn’t mean I’ve never bottomed. Secondly, yes you’re impressively big, but I’ve also been prepping myself to take you,” Hyunjin replied, reaching between them to unbutton Juyeon’s jeans. He was still mostly soft. “Well this won’t do.”

“But how?” Juyeon asked.

“You’ve never heard of butt plugs?” Hyunjin asked as he began stroking Juyeon over his underwear.

“Of course I have,” Juyeon huffed.

“Stop thinking about how I’ll take this impressive cock of yours and relax. Let me show you that you’re a 10, yeah?” Hyunjin told him.

“Okay,” Juyeon agreed.

“Close your eyes,” Hyunjin instructed. Juyeon did as he was told. “Now focus on what you feel, my hands, my mouth, my ass. Don’t think.”

“Okay,” he agreed again. Hyunjin shimmied out of his sweatpants and sat his bare ass on Juyeon’s thighs. Juyeon opened his mouth to say something and Hyunjin shushed him.

“I remember the first time you came over with that flimsy excuse of checking up on me. I knew what you really wanted. What you didn’t know is that I wanted you just as much. Of course, I had no idea how to approach you. How do you say I want you so fucking bad my cock is raw from jacking off to fantasies about you and not come across desperate? You know how I feel about looking desperate,” Hyunjin pressed his lips against Juyeon’s ear. He pulled Juyeon’s jeans and underwear down. Juyeon’s cock was starting to show interest.

“Now I don’t care so much. I don’t care about looking desperate or needy when I’ve got you all to myself. I’d be lying if I said I haven’t enjoyed what I’ve had to do to prep myself to take you. Though most of it is knowing that you’ll be just as helpless with me on your cock. You’ve thought about that, right? What it would be like to have me on that massive dick of yours? Nod if I’m right,” Juyeon nodded as Hyunjin flicked the buttons of his shirt open. “I thought so.”

Hyunjin finished opening Juyeon’s shirt and ran his hands up Juyeon’s chest. The other man arched up into Hyunjin’s touch. He flicked Juyeon’s nipples with his thumbs. Juyeon whined.

“Don’t get to play with these much,” Hyunjin flicked them again.

“Jinnie,” Juyeon whined.

“So good for me Juyeonnie. I think it’s time I finally sat on that fat cock,” Hyunjin kissed his cheek and removed a plug from his ass. He continued teasing one of Juyeon’s nipples as he speared himself on the biggest cock he’d ever taken in his life. “Open your eyes.”

Juyeon opened his eyes and blinked a few times. Hyunjin leaned over and turned on the overhead light.

“Look down,” he said. Juyeon looked down and behind Hyunjin’s prominent erection was a bulge in Hyunjin’s lower belly. Hyunjin took Juyeon’s hand and pressed down so he could feel it. “That’s your cock that’s about to rearrange my insides. Only you have that.”

“Only me,” Juyeon repeated, still marveling at the feeling of his cock in Hyunjin’s body. “Not as tight as I thought.”

“I hope that’s not disappointing,” Hyunjin replied.

“No, no, I just wasn’t sure,” Juyeon shook his head.

“Wasn’t sure I was ready? Darling, we’ve been together for the better part of 3 years, I think I can estimate the size of my boyfriend’s dick pretty well,” Hyunjin kissed him.

“I love you,” Juyeon kissed him back.

“I love you more, babe. Now let me show you how I ride a cock,” Hyunjin grinned. He put Juyeon’s hands around his waist and began riding him hard. Juyeon watched as Hyunjin’s belly moved with his cock inside of him. It wasn’t the first time he’d seen it happen with a partner, but there was something about it being Hyunjin with his lithe frame and the sounds he was making as he moved that got Juyeon hotter than he’d ever been before.

“I dunno how long…” Juyeon gasped.

“I know. I was counting on it,” Hyunjin nipped at his earlobe. “And once you’re done I’m gonna plug myself back up full of your come.”

“Oh god,” Juyeon choked on his own spit.

“Thought you’d like that,” Hyunjin leaned back and rested his weight on the dashboard. Juyeon got a full view of Hyunjin’s cock slapping against his abdomen as he pushed them both closer to release. The sight made Juyeon’s balls tighten the first time.

“Don’t fight it,” Hyunjin told him.

“Okay,” Juyeon panted, his hands in a vice grip around Hyunjin’s waist. It would probably bruise, but Hyunjin wouldn’t care. Hyunjin suddenly tightened around him and Juyeon released into him. He felt like he’d been punched in the gut as his cock pumped inside Hyunjin. The blonde leaned forward and kissed him hard as he began to come all over Juyeon’s stomach. When they both finished, Hyunjin placed a gentle kiss on Juyeon’s forehead and rested against his chest, damn getting come all over his shirt.

“Thank you,” Juyeon kissed his hair.

“Of course. And the next time someone makes you feel bad about yourself, let me know so I can rip their throat out,” Hyunjin replied.

“Sure,” Juyeon huffed a laugh.

#just fucking write 2k24 #minors dni #the boyz fanfic #stray kids fanfic #crossover ships #Juyeon x Hyunjin #stray kids smut #the boyz smut

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heartthumpnovel · 2 days

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Heart Thump: Chapter 7

“Growing Pains”

Word count: 9437

Just got this wrapped up before I leave for a week! This is gonna be insight to how Jason is dealing with the new big changes in his life (I am not sorry). This chapter was very fun to write because it has my favorite character in it; Oliver :> By they way, since it seems people are getting interested in this story, I've seen people do tag lists for each chapter. Let me know if you're interested in that!

cw: Cursing/Swears

Last chapter: Seeking Answers

Next chapter: It Came From Outer Space

---

Atlas Gang Group Chat November 9th @ 3:00 pm

Jason: Just got out of the doctors office.

Jason: Won’t be dying anytime soon, but, It seems like I did get electrocuted at some point on the golf course.

Ellie: FR??? Are you going to be okay??

Natasha: HOW?? OH MY GOD JASON HUN I AM SO SORRY!! I SHOULD OF GOT YOU TO THE HOSPITAL!!!! D’:

Motor: Shit dude. F.

Jason: Now don’t get too upset @Motor.

Jason: But to make this clear, @Natasha you have nothing to be sorry about. It wasn’t obvious and I had a bit too many drinks. I am still not sure what shocked me but I have those lighting scars on my back…

Ellie: Like Lichtenberg Figures? At Least those are the coolest scars to possibly have right?

Jason: @Ellie I guess... I am just lucky I managed to live through it.

Motor: bro you realize you don’t have to @ everyone you’re trying to talk to right??? It’s literally just the four of us here.

Jason: It’s called being efficient @Motor.

Motor: I don’t wanna hear pinging coming for you every five seconds. IT'S CALLED BEING ANNOYING.

Natasha: uh hey are we just gonna ignore the fact Jason nearly died from electrocution or??

Jason: Awh @Natasha It’s quite alright! The doctor said that I had little to no damage and the shock passed right through me. He did say that it was a risk considering my heart condition but, I am overall unharmed. However, he did write me up for two weeks of rest just to be on the safe side.

Natasha: Consider the call in done. Imma also gonna look into that golf course to see if there’s any loose wiring problems and give them hell!! >:(

Ellie: YEAH GIRL GET THEM!!!!

Ellie: And here I thought golf courses couldn’t get any worse.

Ellie: But uh Jason, wasn’t there anything else the doctor … found out about your condition or?

Jason: No. Just pain medication and rest.

Motor: yeah no big deal..no BIIGG deal at all. >:3

Natasha: :/ ????

Jason: Shut it @motor.

Natasha: Uhhhh

Ellie: Don’t worry about it Nat. :’D

The phone screen went dark as Jason pressed the side button on his phone and shoved it deep into his pants pocket. He didn’t need the stress that Motor was giving him for nearly spilling the beans on the whole giant fiasco. It felt like the entire thing was one stupid joke away from giving away the big secret. He laid back in the bus seat and stared down at the small paper bag filled with the prescription antibiotic cream and tylenol that was settled in his lap.

Thinking back on the doctor appointment, Jason wished he could have told his doctor everything that was happening to him. Maybe he could have gotten more than just stuff to treat the surprise scars on his back. But, the troubles that would have come from telling his doctor would have been extremely bad. His doctor could have thought that he was either having a mental breakdown, ran out of the room screaming if Jason were to prove the claim, and may have probably called the government to take him away to be then experimented on for the rest of his life. Yeah, there’s no way he was going to take those chances.

However, Jason was told that his heartbeat was now more noticeable and beating faster than usual. Not enough to be at the regular rate but a definite improvement than before the incident.

“Huh, cure me a little bit and in exchange turn me into a freak of nature… Not really a fair trade is it?” Jason quietly mumbled to himself as he placed a hand on his chest. Looking outside the bus window to check for his stop, his mind began to wander as he witnessed the rain outside fall into the streets of Seattle. Sure, he does believe now that he was right in the middle of this weird phenomenon but it still felt so unreal. A monkey’s paw’s finger must have curled as he always wanted to be a few more inches taller, feel more happiness and have a clean bill of health. At this cost however?

Definitely not worth it.

While listening to the bus’s public radio talk about this newly discovered meteor that was currently in orbit of the solar system, The bus slowed and pulled up to the bus stop where Jason needed to get off. He rose from his seat and stepped off the bus as quickly as he could. He just wanted to get home. Before he could make his walk back to his townhouse, Jason couldn’t help to notice the inky spot on the road that was across the bus stop. His memory started to jog and wondered how that lady with the crushed minivan was doing.

Wait, had he seen that minivan before? Consequently, he could feel a slight pain emerge from his foot and once he put two and two together; He remembered.

During that fateful night, he remembered getting the boot from a ride-share car. Jason couldn’t recall for the life of him why he was removed from the car or how he even was able to summon one in the first place. However, his drunk/electrocuted brain was thinking of Natasha for some reason and with the knowledge Jason gained about what happens when she enters his thoughts…

He could only recall pieces of the night. Losing one of his nice dress shoes, stumbling in the streets, buildings slowly shrinking around him, and the moment his foot accidentally stepped on a hunk of metal that blared loudly as it was crushed beneath his weight.

The pain in his foot stung worse and Jason immediately started speed walking down the street. He needed to get home ASAP before he unexpectedly grew again and caused more damage. If only he could repay that woman for her van and make it up to anyone else who was a victim of his carelessness. Though that would be very expensive, and he would have to admit that he was the giant freak that did it. Perhaps these one-time sins from when he didn’t know better could serve as a lesson to Jason to not let himself get carried away.

That fast paced walking turned into a sprint as he had no faith in his wandering imagination. Thinking back on the bus ride, he realized that could have ended badly as well and Jason mentally scolded himself for putting people in danger. The few people he ran past stared at him and Jason for once didn’t care what they thought. He needed to put himself away at home where he could focus on NOT focusing on those lovingly destructive thoughts.

He stumbled onto the stairs on his front door and shoved a hand into his pocket, fumbling on grabbing his keys. His two feet tapping anxiously on his welcome mat, and Jason using his other hand to search for the keys as well. Wait- where was his prescription bag!? His gaze darted below him and his head snapped to the bottom of the porch stairs. Jason spotted his nearly spilled out shopping bag on the sidewalk and just as fast as he sprinted there, he quickly shuffled his way down the stairs and nabbed his bag with a swift snatch. Muttering a few quiet ‘oh come ons’ before he managed to shove his key into the front door.

The front door swung open and slammed closed. Jason laid on the other side of the front door, trying to catch what little breath he had. It took the man a couple of deep breaths to find his bearings as his shoulders dropped. Though he did snap back to reality when he felt a comforting presence press on his calf. “Meow.” Jason looked down to see that his orange companion, Oliver, was already complaining about waiting for his dinner. The lovable dope had his tail raised and was rubbing his face into Jason’s pant leg, getting fur stuck on the fabric. “Awh is the little pumpkin hungry?~'' Jason cooed as he bent down and picked up Oliver by the sides to hoist the cat to be cradled into one of his arms, “Sorry I’m late, Daddy’s dealing with reality shattering stuff lately.” Jason walked into his cozy living room and dropped the prescription bag off at the coffee table while his orange fur-baby was meowing complaints. As he made his way to the kitchen, Oliver kept staring at Jason with his one eye and began to purr loudly as he lay comfortably in Jason’s scrawny arm.

What a strange little creature.

Oliver didn’t stay in Jason’s arm for too long as he jumped off when he saw his food bowl come into view. A cat has his priorities after all. Going through the cabinets Jason started to tell his thoughts to his cat, just like any cat owner would even if the cat had no idea what the heck their owner was talking about. It wasn’t like Oliver could snitch on him or anything.

“I honestly don’t know what’s happening to me Oliver,” Jason said as he peaked through the cabinets, “I’ve become a ticking time bomb overnight and now I am a threat to society without even meaning to be…” Jason grunted when he didn’t see the cat food in the usual place.

“Wha- oh goodness I thought I just bought you a palette recently..” Jason spoke as he pushed some cans of soup aside and he tried to rack his brain on where in his house the cat food could be. It was about a week ago he went grocery shopping, and consequently that night had also been board game night with his friends from work. He did pick up some extra snacks for that night and Motor, while annoying he can be, actually offered to help Jason with the heavy groceries.

He felt his blood run cold. Jason arched his neck up to the high cabinets in his kitchen. While it probably was a stupid idea for a short man like Jason to rent a home which felt like it was specifically made for tall people, it was a really good deal at the time considering he was living in Seattle. Besides, he had managed to live with it this long and had no problems since he had a step stool on hand. Though he had to admit, Motor putting the heavy cat food stack on a high shelf was seriously infuriating.

Jason sighed and turned to find that step stool buried deep in the pantry. However, his feet stopped half way through the turn as he had a small thought sprout in his mind. What if instead of spending more precious time digging through his pantry to get the step-stool, Jason could just simply put that new side effect to good use. Jason shook his head for a moment, “Oh heavens no-” He mumbled as he took a step towards the pantry, “That’s ridiculous, I wouldn’t want to risk it…” He cleared his throat as he reached his hand over to the pantry door. The hand halted before it could grab the handle and Jason took another glance at the high up cabinet. It had never looked so close yet out of reach…

“I mean,” Jason spoke towards Oliver, “Just maybe a little bit couldn’t hurt… Now I know about what the cause is..” “Meow.” “Yeah, it could end up being safer than throwing my back out! Smart boy, Oliver.” “Meow.” It has been decided, then.

He made his way back to below the high up cabinet and stretched out his arms as if he was going to be entered in a weight lifting competition. A long concentrated deep breath came from him as he closed his eyes. Feeling a bit anxious from this but, if he only thought of her for a moment then it should only be a few inches right? “Alright Oliver, keep your distance.” Jason said as pushed up his glasses and wondered what he should specifically think about. Obviously nothing too intense, probably? He actually wasn’t sure when the point of no return was. His hands came together and made them hold each other. Maybe just the thought of holding her wonderfully soft palms might do the trick--

BANG

CRASH

“HISSSS! ROWWEEERRRR!”

CLANK

“AGGH! BOLLOCKS!!”

[Image Description: Jason grew too tall and ended up slamming his head on the ceiling. This caused him to fall back onto the kitchen island and he got smacked by a pan and is in pain.]

In one brief moment, the kitchen descended into chaos. The height that Jason had desired was passed up very quickly and his head punched itself through the ceiling, causing a huge crack to form. Debris fell and blinded Jason for a moment- causing him to stumble backwards onto the kitchen island. In a different time, it was nice to have a really good cast iron steel set of pots and pans. At the moment however, the back of Jason’s head didn’t appreciate it as he tumbled into them. His back was sprawled across the counter and all he could do was hold the back of his head, seizing in pain.

“Oooowww-” The now 10 foot tall Jason moaned, “How... have I not gotten brain damage?…” He opened his eyes to a horrifying sight, not at his ceiling being caved in nor his expensive cooking equipment being scattered everywhere; but the sight of his poor fluffed up baby boy huddling in the corner and hiding his scared face behind his puffed up tail.

“Oh… oh no pumpkin I’m so sorry...” Jason cooed, feeling like an absolutely disgusting human being, “I-I didn’t mean to scare you, It’s still me Oliver…” Jason managed to flop himself over so he could lay on this stomach comfortably. He reached out a large hand to Oliver, who at first backed up from the offered hand. The man’s heart dropped from seeing this and expected Oliver to sprint towards the bedroom to hide from the big scary monster that invaded his home.

Instead, Oliver slowly raised his head from his tail and stared at the hand with his good eye. His nose reached over to Jason’s huge fingers and gave them a couple of small sniffs. From this new perspective Jason gained, Oliver could have been mistaken as a kitten on how small he looked. This almost made Jason’s heart soar with glee as he’d never got the chance to meet Oliver when he was a baby cat, but what really brought him glee was when Oliver rubbed his fuzzy head into Jason’s palm and let himself be wrapped by his owner’s large fingers for scratches. Tears of happiness covered Jason’s knocked askew glasses.

Forgiveness was granted.

----

After giving Oliver double the serving that he usually had for dinner, Jason crawled through his own home to get to the bathroom. The hallways of the townhouse had become more like service tunnels as he had to duck throughout the home. While he was careful to not smack his head on any light fixtures, his feet were having a hard time adjusting to the new walkway. The pain in the back of his skull was still stinging slightly from the incident so he used his free hand to massage it while the other large hand traced the walls and grabbed onto the door frame that entered the bathroom.

“Ugh, the new pain meds are comin’ in handy today..” Jason mumbled before he looked up at the mirror, “AH!!-- Oh… oh.”

He yelped for a brief moment before realizing that the bathroom mirror had only reflected himself. However, he almost didn’t realize it was him due to the fact he was now completely covering the doorway and he was crouching to be able to get inside the bathroom.

Watching his reflection, Jason's emotions morphed from surprise to a tinge of sadness. It dawned on him why his coworkers had initially been apprehensive around him. With a resigned sigh, he maneuvered into the bathroom, barely leaving any space to spare. He chuckled at the thought that he had once considered this compact bathroom relatively spacious for townhouse living. Without further ado, he removed his glasses to splash water on his face.

“...Wha- Wait what!? Are you kidding me!? Noooo,” Jason spoke out of disbelief as his glasses suddenly shrunk right as they left his face, “How the hell?...”

Try as he might, he couldn’t put them back on his face as they just simply wouldn’t fit. Jason couldn’t exactly get himself to fit the glasses either as the pain in the back of his head made it near impossible to concentrate.

“Oh, that’s just great…” Jason said sarcastically as he placed his glasses on the bathroom counter, “That’s how it’s going to be then.” He rubbed the arch of his nose before gingerly turning the faucet on. Splashing cool water on his face did make him feel a little bit more grounded despite the weirdness. He patted his face dry with a teal bath towel before eyeing his sweater vest and polo.

“I guess I’m not expecting visitors or going out like this…” He mumbled to himself as he grabbed the bottom of his polo and started to pull it over his head, “But I’ll leave the trousers on for now- Ugh!” Jason grunted as he was having a bit of trouble trying to get his upper wear over his shoulders. His elbows had hit the ceiling and the lack of space made it hard to yank the polo combo off. Undeterred, Jason persisted, shifting and shimmying until he successfully removed the polo shirt.

Jason held onto the clothing and was rather stunned as he saw that it too, had shrunk back down to his normal clothing size. This brought on more questions from Jason; Why did his clothing shrink back to normal when he took them off? Does anything in his pockets change size too? How is his clothing growing along with him and not getting ripped to shreds?

Jason shivered, perhaps he should just be grateful that he gets to remain fully clothed as the alternative would be a whole new set of problems to deal with.

He tossed his clothes into the hamper to put an end to those thoughts and looked back at the mirror. His large hands nearly eclipsed the bathroom counter as he gingerly placed his palms on it. His eyes traced the scrawny ribs and various fresh bruises that marked the kitchen incident. An uncanny feeling was raised from within as it felt like a crime against nature itself for a body type like his to be able to fill an entire room.

Spotting the end of the lighting scar on his shoulder, Jason reached out his fingers to touch it and turned a little bit to get a better look at the wound. The appearance of this scar shocked him as he hadn't felt pain from it till days after the incident. His muscles tensed up from touching the scarring and he pulled away to just stare at it. While getting a Lichtenberg figure from a lightning strike wasn’t uncommon, what was strange about this scar was that the entry point looked shaped like a cartoon heart. Probably a silly coincidence or a mocking branding.

Coming to terms with his condition felt impossible, it wasn’t like anyone else in the whole world that could relate to him. He could no longer stare at the freak in the mirror and hung his head low, thoughts wondering if this meant he could never truly find happiness in a relationship. While he didn’t want to be in a relationship, now it was as if he no longer had any say in the matter. Tightness built up in his chest; what did this all even mean and why him? Perhaps he was being selfish for falling hard for someone who could be fired and have her life ruined if he’d dared to act on his feelings.

“Meow.”

“Oliver? Oh bloody hell I left the door open didn’t I?”

“Meow!”

His eyes squinted to try to make out the fluffy orange blob that passed under his legs and was rubbing his ankle dramatically. The flick of Oliver’s tail made Jason’s frown curl into an appreciative grin. Oliver’s paw twitched a little bit from the unexpected puddle on the floor, Jason looked back up in the mirror and realized his face was completely wet with tears.

“I-I’m sorry for crying like a big baby Oliver, That’s very unbecoming of me…”

“Meowwwwww.”

Jason reached down gingerly to hoist the fluffy noise box off of the tile and into his arms. Oliver squirmed a little as Jason tried to find a comfortable position for his fuzzy son due to his arms being much longer. It only took a few seconds to adjust and Oliver was once again cradled like a newborn comfortably.

“Oh my gosh Pumpkin you’re so tiny~”

Jason sniffled as he used one finger to lightly pet Oliver’s fluffy tummy as he turned away from the mirror. Truthfully, It was awkward trying to shuffle out of the bathroom with a bundle that demanded attention. The kitty’s insistence was a little bit annoying, but the annoyance was overpowered by how Oliver wields his cuteness to his advantage.

While it took a minute to navigate his home, he managed to get to his living room. Thankfully the ceiling was raised considerably, so he didn’t need to stress his back anymore. Getting to his usually comfy leather couch, Jason ever so carefully lowered himself down. The squeals from the wooden legs made him flinch and held onto Oliver for support. When he managed to sit completely down onto the couch, he sighed in relief that it didn't give way. Looking around his living room, he started to notice the fragile photographs that adorned the walls, the expensive television across from him, and plenty of breakable items that are precious to him. More things he could quite easily destroy without meaning to.

He’d let go of Oliver and the orange fluff cloud pranced onto the low coffee table, sitting down regally with his tail covering his front paws. “Well,” Jason said, leaning down to his right and attempting to make himself comfortable on his ‘new’ loveseat sized couch, “I think it’s about time to reorganize the place, just to be on the safe side.”

The couch creaked in protest, as Jason laid his back to toe cushion and his neck cradled haphazardly on the arm rest. His long legs found it uncomfortable to curl up on the couch, so they stretched out over the opposite armrest, and the soles of his feet rested on the floor. Finally, he had managed to find some comfort in this new body of his.

He took a deep breath and- SNAP

Oliver leaped off the coffee table in response to the loud noise, caused by the couch's plywood giving way under the weight it was never meant to bear. Although it startled Jason for a moment, his body sank back onto the broken couch with a disappointed sigh. What else was new?

------

A Ravine [ Dream II ]

She was farther than ever before;

Across the Ravine.

Upon looking down,

He couldn’t comprehend the unseen.

Before he could plead,

His chest burned.

No fear, no regrets

He took the leap.

The blue moon loomed

Claws dragged his ankles down,

Before he could cross;

Abyss cemented his doom.

Down he fell into the ravine;

Knowing he will never be seen.

Darkness consumed all,Lost forever within the Ravine.

------

It wasn’t a recent development for Ellie’s hatred of college level essays about the unclean parts about mental health. Though she didn’t like writing essays in general, she really had to double her effort from having to research grotesque subject matter. While it was necessary for her future career, damn if it wasn’t a mood killer. The blank document’s cursor flickers in mockery at Ellie as he sat on top of her bed sheets. Curled up with a nice warm cup of matcha on the side and held a firm grip on the sticker covered laptop on her lap. Sadly, she couldn’t use her love birds as an excuse to procrastinate as they were in the middle of their mid day cuddle nap. Ellie rubbed her nose in frustration, her mind pulling out blanks for an introduction for a tricky subject such as this.

After another embarrassing date going south, she wasn’t in the mood to chat up potential bachelorettes either. This left her with just herself, and the doomed assignment.

Usually when she found herself stuck on inspiration for stuff like this, she’d head over to her best friend that was conveniently next door for guidance since he’d always had a knack for essay writing. Unfortunately, he wasn’t available and hasn’t been for a week. Ellie missed the days where they’d open their bedroom windows to chat nonchalantly about their weekend or gossip about their coworkers. It was one of the reasons why they rented these townhouses as they could stay in touch and get those sweet discounts on the places. However, every time Ellie peaked through her bedroom window to check to see if Jason was there, his curtains had remained closed. Ellie did think about heading over there herself to check if he was okay, though her deep rooted fear held her from going. It wasn’t like she was scared of Jason necessarily. What monster would be afraid of their best friend suffering from an unknown sickness? On the other hand, her sleep had been tormented with imagery of being unknowingly squashed under a heel and feeling like a helpless bug in an uncaring universe.

This part of herself she knew, long before this mess. A deep sinking feeling of panic brewed when she passed by unthinkably tall buildings and passed on Motor’s movie night ideas. If she could diagnose herself, she'd guess it was a classic case of megalophobia. That fear was usually unfounded and didn’t affect her life day to day usually so she wasn’t that upset about it. Until now. While she did manage to push through it during their experiments in the forest for her friend’s sake, she did have to binge through videos of kitten fostering videos to cope through the tears.

Ellie noticed that she was gripping the sides of her laptop and biting her tongue as her stress boiled over. Her laptop was pushed onto her bed and she rose from her sheets with a determination filled with obligation. She rushed to her drawers and got dressed into her usual autumn weekend outfit.

Her heart couldn’t take the communication break down anymore. Ellie needed to make sure Jason was alright and the thought of abandoning her friend when he needed her most made her feel like a disgusting coward.

Ellie snatched her keys and rushed by her chirping lovebirds as she made her way to the front door. Once she shuffled down the front steps, her gaze turned to Jason’s front door. At first she couldn’t find the strength to move her feet, the mere thought of what could be happening in there made her blood run cold. Though it was too late to bail now.

With one last look at her front door, Ellie sighed and her heavy feet walked up to the front door of Jason’s home and she knocked her fist on the door. Ellie’s shoulders jumped when she heard a dramatic thud coming from within the home. Her concern only grew from there as the noise was followed with a few scraping noises and then silence.

“Uh, Hey man are y-” Ellie said before the front door suddenly swung open, revealing a normal sized, but uncommonly disheveled Jason with a deceitfully wide grin.

[Image Description: A very concerned Ellie staring at Jason, who has opened his front door and is leaning on the door frame with a wide guilty grin.]

“Heeeeey Ellie,” Jason said, with fake cheerfulness, “It’s so nice to see you! Man alive, how long has it been?” “Uh, about a week…” Ellie said, trying to peek her head behind Jason, “Wanted to check in on… things.”

Jason shoved his head in the way of Ellie’s eye line while he kept that telling grin on his face. “OH! Things have been just swell! ” Jason paltered.

And as if the universe itself took offense, a shelf crashed to the floor.

Ellie peered further over Jason’s shoulder and decided to push him aside despite Jason’s protest. To no one’s surprise; everything wasn’t swell in Jason’s abode. Bits of the ceiling fluttered onto the carpet and the cardboard boxes that had been hastily taped up. Once Ellie looked up, she could see multiple sized dents in the ceiling with a few expensive looking holes.

“Jason…” Elllie gasped, turning to look at Jason who at this point was hiding his face with his fingers. “I know…” Jason groaned, “the landlord is going to bloody kill me.”

Ellie gestured her hands towards the disaster in his house, “You did all of this in a week!?” Her voice raised, more so out of concern than disbelief. Jason kept his head low and moved past her into his ruined living room in shame as he laid a hand on one of the boxes. “Getting used to this disease has been harder than I anticipated…” Jason confessed, “I’ve been putting everything breakable away and haven’t left the house for days.” At this point he had completely dropped the act, his face darkened in shame.

“Oh gods…” Ellie said as she reached a hand out to Jason’s shoulder to comfort him. Though right before she could, she heard a familiar yowl come from the couch. Her attention was shattered and she cooed at Oliver, who was trying to take a needed nap and was rudely woken up by the commotion. Ellie bee-lined towards the couch and scooped up the orange fluff ball into her arms.

“Right, that’s why you came over,” Jason said with snark as he approached the two.

“Nooo, I did come over to see how you were doing,” Ellie said as she bounced Oliver like a newborn, “But I mean, come on look at him!” She hoisted Oliver up in her arms and the look in his eye showed that there was truly a void of nothing behind it.

Jason couldn’t wallow forever and acquiesced with a chuckle. He petted the top of Oliver’s head and kept his eyes on his little furry friend as he spoke to Ellie. “He somehow still loves me after all of this mess, ” Jason said, “Though I’m not sure how long I can control myself to keep him safe.”

An awkward silence filled the room after that. Ellie sighed as she looked at her dissonant friend and she gave herself a moment to ponder the situation. She took note of the crater’s in the ceiling and the clearly evident eye bags below Jason’s eyes. “How much sleep are you getting?” Ellie asked as she set Oliver free. The cat pranced out of Ellie’s arm and onto the back of the broken couch. Jason sighed as he put a hand on his forehead in foggy thought. “None,” Jason complained, “I’ve been having a lot of dreadful nightmares and I’m afraid I’ll wake up to find myself homeless.”

Ellie anxiously tapped the broken remains of his couch and took a deep breath. She gave a comforting gaze to Jason despite her own comfort. “Why don’t you come over to my place?” Ellie suggested, “We can try to do research on this thing, just like what we used to do in college.” She put a firm hand on Jason’s shoulder as he recoiled in shock. Before his stuttering could refuse, his head shook vehemently and he tried to pull away. “Wh-what!?” Jason exclaimed, “N-no! No, that's a terrible idea! Do you want me to get you in trouble with the landlord too!?” Ellie thought to argue that. “Look around, You’ve been isolated for way too long and it’s gonna drive you nuts!” Ellie said as she gestured her hand to the disastrous state of Jason’s living room, “Besides, I know that you’re gonna be extra careful if the house isn’t yours, you’re too considerate.” Jason folded his arms. It was very rare that he was unsure of his friend’s judgment, though at the moment, his doubts were plenty. “It’s dangerous,” Jason said, “I’m not keeping myself locked in my house for no reason Ellie.” He pushed Ellie’s hand away grimly and stared at the floor longingly.

Well, Ellie didn’t care for that one bit. She took it upon herself to scoop up Oliver, who chipped in surprise, from the couch and marched towards the door. “In that case, I’m sure Oliver would love to study with me to find out how to cure your stubborn butt.” Ellie said while she headed straight towards the front door with a sly grin on her face. “Wait- WAIT ELLIE,” Jason called after her and clumsily followed her trail like a helpless puppy, “You can’t just take my cat! Hey- ELLIE! HOLD JUST A SECOND-!!”

------

If one were forced to think of one word to describe Ellie’s living room, it could very well be ‘serene’. The place definitely looked lived in, but it was a very clean mess of psychology textbooks on the handed-down oak coffee table, that had been gifted to her by her mothers. Pots were placed around the room that cradled many different types of plant life, and in one corner, Ellie's cassette collection laid haphazardly near her vintage boombox. Despite the apparent disorganization, she never had trouble locating any mix-tape in that pile. Music selection was not a frequent problem, though, as her two very vocal love birds' cage occupied a central position in the living room.

Jason had been sitting quite uncomfortably on her bequeathed bargain couch, though not due to the lack of support from the couch, but because he was essentially held hostage there. His traitorous kitty decided he wanted to spend time with auntie Ellie after being catnapped. He crossed his arms pouting, trying to ignore the smug look she had on her face as she entered the kitchen. “Whatcha want to drink?” Ellie asked.

“Earl grey,” Jason said, “Also you’re evil.” “I know,” Ellie playfully replied as she disappeared through the doorway.

As much as he wanted to right then, Jason couldn’t seethe forever and eventually released the breath he was holding. He knew she was just trying to help but he was more scared than angry at her insistence. His gaze checked around the room for anything potentially breakable and expensive. By the end of the first week of being a circus freak, he’d picked up a new awareness of how fragile things can be and how much of a hassle it would be to replace them. Jason stood up from the couch, not wanting to dwell on how much money he was already losing, and made his way over to the pair of love birds.

“Ah! Hello Mango and Papaya,” Jason greeted them as he leaned over to the cage, “Oliver is in the guest room right now so you two can stretch your wings, yeah?” Mango squealed in agreement as the door to the cage was opened and she hopped excitedly onto Jason’s hand. Papaya decided to stay cautious and only peaked her head out to check on Mango’s well-being. Mango had always been the more approachable one out of the couple. Jason’s thumb scratched the love bird’s neck and ruffled her head feathers. She leaned her head towards his hand in merriment, as her closed eyes smiled in bliss. For a minute, Jason completely forgot that he was forced to be there against his will. He showered the bird in affection until their wholesome interaction was cut short.

Despite the desperate neck stretches and opening her beak to show authority, Jason didn’t realize that Paypapa wasn’t going to let her soulmate be taken by some human tart. She thought to rectify this slight and confronted Jason with a hard bite on the fingertip. “Owch! Okay fine I’ll put her down, god-” Jason stammered as he let both birds onto the top of their cage. He rubbed the small bite mark on his finger as he saw his aggressor frantically groom Mango. Despite the pain of being chomped on, Jason chuckled after the fact. “My apologies,” Jason said, “I almost forgot you’re a bonded pair.” While he was not a bird expert, it was obvious that Papaya was just trying to protect her sweet girlfriend. How romantic.

Only for a moment Jason got lost in thought, unaware of his surroundings as his mind was swooned by the very idea of soulmates and his longing desire to have one for himself. To be honest, he did feel a tad jealous these birds have a better love life than he ever will. The train of thought crashed as he heard a loud gasp, tea being spilled and the feeling of the ceiling pushing down on his head.

“Oh gods, J-JASON!” Ellie stuttered, trying to regain her composure from nearly suffering from a heart attack by the sight of a giant suddenly appearing in her house. Panic flooded onto Jason’s face as he realized he wasn’t as careful as he thought he was. “I-I’m sorry!” Jason begged as he tried to crouch down, trying to make him seem smaller in vain, “I’ll try not to break anything on the way out.” Before he could start crawling towards the front door in a fit of panic, Ellie rushed to set the un-spilled mug of earl gray onto her coffee table and approached him. “Wait!” Ellie said, with her phobia and compassion at war with each other, “You don’t have to go! It’s fine, I swear!”

Jason halted and looked at her in disbelief. While he wasn’t the best at reading people like Ellie was, even he could tell that Ellie was terrified of him and was just trying to be polite. “I know you’re scared of me,” Jason said bluntly, “My feelings aren’t hurt, I’ll just take my leave.”

A harsh tug on the bottom of his t-shirt stopped him from turning around. He looked over to see that Ellie is gripping the fabric as if she was able to actually keep the man the size of a Honda from escaping. Though that sad desperate look in her eyes may as well have bolted him to the floor.

"No! I might be scared, but I'm even more terrified for your well-being!" Ellie argued, “No matter what horrifying thing you turn into; Giant, cockroach, hell, a giant cockroach! I’m still not going to abandon you!” Jason sighed heavily and before he could even begin to formulate an argument, Ellie cuffed her full hands together. “Please let me help you,” she pleaded, “you don’t have to deal with this alone.”

Jason felt this stomach tie up in knots. He’d already felt guilty for being a terrible house guest, but he couldn’t just say no to her insistence. Jason stared at the floor in shame as he admitted defeat. “Fine,” Jason said, “I’ll stay.”

Ellie smiled, releasing her shaking hands and turned to pick up the spilled tea mug off of the floor. “We’ll figure it out,” Ellie said, “Besides, what kind of a cat dad leaves their precious baby behind?~” Jason groaned, “Don’t push it.”

----

This impromptu study session really did bring back those college freshman memories when Ellie and Jason had to cram for exams. However, the tension wasn’t being built by a demanding deadline. Ellie felt the stress when she peaked over her laptop and saw the gargantuan man sitting next to her couch trying to gently sip the tiny mug in his massive hands. His fingers fidgeted around the mug's handle uncomfortably. He also kept hesitantly pulling the cup towards his lips but, whenever it got near his mouth, he pulled away reluctantly. Watching this constant backpedaling was starting to be unbearable to watch. “Dude, I can make you tea in a mixing bowl,” Ellie commented, glancing over to see Jason’s grimacing face being offended by the mere suggestion.

“What? No,” Jason said as he tried to ‘properly’ hold his mug, “I don’t need to feel anymore out of place than I already am.” He uncomfortably shifted as he glanced down at his remarkably large hands that nearly enveloped the little mug. Ellie rolled her eyes, sharing that same gaze to his mug. “Getting accommodated doesn’t make you weird,” Ellie said, taking a sip herself before turning her attention back to her internet browser, which had several open Wikipedia tabs. They’d been looking at a variety of human body size disorders that could fit the bill. None of them helped in the slightest, since it seemed like Jason’s condition was anything but normal for a human. Ellie started to mass-close all of those useless tabs as Jason sighed in defeat and sat the mug onto the coffee table gingerly.

“I don’t even know why we’re bothering trying to search this… thing on the internet,” Jason said, folding his arms, “It’s not like some other poor sod could be going through the same deal, and if we do find something, it’d be some weirdo’s fantasy writing.”

Ellie thought for a moment before snapping her fingers. “Myths! We can look at legends around the globe for answers,” Ellie said excitedly as she started to type search terms in the browser bar. “Why myths?,” Jason asked, “Shouldn’t we be looking for, you know, factual evidence?” “There’s a nugget of truth in a lot of cultural tales,” Ellie explained as she pulled up more web pages filled with different stories concerning giants, “Maybe one of them is actually true.” “You’re sounding an awful lot like Motor,” Jason said as he pushed himself a tad closer to Ellie and arched his neck so he could get a look at the kind of ridiculous stuff she was searching for. The listings had notable large figures such as the treacherous Gogmagog to the vastness of the Daidarabotchi, though many of these listings seemed to pull up gods or malevolent creatures. Jason was sure he was definitely not either of those things.

Probably.

While Ellie may have been on the right track, Jason couldn’t see how any of these beings and monsters had any relation to him. Though it was getting hard to read her laptop screen as she kept tabbing through websites at top speed. While this made Ellie great at procrastinating and getting away with it in her college classes, Jason wanted to research too.

A brief flicker of recognition flashed registered in Jason’s brain as he spotted golden fur for a split second through Ellie’s browsing. Quickly Jason leaned over her and without thinking, slammed his hand next to hers. “Hold on! Can you… Ellie?” Jason attempted to ask before he realized that Ellie’s body froze suddenly. The only thing that was moving was her shivering hand. It felt like her entire soul left her chest and seeing a huge hand that could have weighed more than a brick nearly missed hitting her frail fingers. Ellie’s neck craned slowly tilted her head upwards hesitantly to be met with Jason’s wide chest. Ellie was rendered speechless and Jason eventually picked up on that. He lurked away from her, sputtering apologizes as he proceeded to sit on his hands. “I’m so sorry I-I didn’t think about- I’ll keep myself right here,” Jason nervously trembled as he watched Ellie let go of a sigh of relief she herself didn’t realize she was holding.

“Warn me next time will ya? Geeze,” Ellie said as she tried to regain her composure and sense of safety, “could’ve lost my writing hand.” Compulsively, Ellie rubbed her wrist as she kept her eyes off of Jason for the time being. For now, she pushed down that icky feeling of distress and flicked through some of the back pages silently to see what Jason nearly broke her hand for.

“...It’s uh- … the golden dog I think,” Jason muttered with his gaze glued to the floor, “It looked familiar.” After a quiet moment that felt like ages, Ellie finally spoke up again after taking a swig of her tea.

“The Golden Beast,” Ellie began to read out loud, “A phenomenon seen around the world of a large golden canine that is very elusive, but it is said to be a symbol of great change and good harvest.”

Jason waited for a moment to listen intently to Ellie’s lecture, but nothing else came. “... and?” Jason asked, though he got his answer when Ellie shrugged with a disappointed look. “That’s it, not much information written down here,” Ellie responded as she went ahead to search for the term elsewhere on the internet. Both of them would be lying if they said they weren’t disappointed, especially Jason.

“I swear I’ve seen something that looked similar but,” He commented as he easily finished off his tea with a single sip, “I just can’t seem to recall anything.” He sat the mug down and watched Ellie peruse through a few websites, but in the end didn’t seem to find much else about the mysterious beast.

“Another brick wall… bummer,” Ellie said as she stretched her arms outward, making sure her wrists weren’t getting sore. Her bones cracked as she rolled her shoulder, she had attempted to loosen up and let go of the pent up anxiety she had plenty of. In her peripheral vision she could see Jason reaching his head to the side to look hopelessly at Ellie’s laptop without having to get too close to her.

“There really is nothing that can help me is there?” Jason said as he slumped, “Figures.” The two of them sat in silence for a while, unsure of what they could possibly do next or even find a trail to follow for the answers to their building questions. Ellie even half-mindly scrolled through news sites for anything unusual happenings. Though other than a couple of strange meteoroids being found around the globe, it was all mostly just news of politicians lying, groan worthy e-celebrity drama and a heartwarming story of a local pit bull named Twinkles saving a bus full of deaf school children from falling into the Vancouver River.

Ellie took a deep breath, “Jason I’m sorry I can’t…” Before Ellie could properly apologize to him, she noticed that Jason had a few visitors perched on the top of his head that were tugging tufts of his hair. Though he didn’t seem to notice it himself until he saw the despair disappear from Ellie’s face and she started to chuckle. She couldn’t keep a straight face for even a second.

[Image Description: Mango and Papaya are playing in Jason’s hair and Ellie is just sitting there. LAUGHING. ]

“Hey, what are you two doing!?” Jason exclaimed, trying to gently shoo away the uninvited guests. The birds of course, did not even acknowledge Jason’s attempts to evict them. Papaya just tugged at tufts of his hair to see if she could make a nest and Mango naively rolled around in the strange grass they discovered. If he had just been a little more stern, he could have negotiated with Mango and Papaya to retreat. However, Jason’s hesitant hands and soft voice made it clear that he wasn’t going to risk being slightly rough with Ellie’s pets.

“Uh- a little help please?” Jason asked as he turned his awkward gaze back to Ellie. She stood up from the couch, and from there, she had to hold on a second to take in how large her friend had become. Her mind could still barely comprehend a giant human being real and be sitting in her house. However, that pleading look in his eyes that paired with his helplessness from the invasion of her birds made one thing very clear: Despite her skin crawling, he was still a harmless dork. “They probably think you’re a tree,” Ellie giggled, feeling confident enough to wave him down closer to her. The giant hesitated, unsure if he really wanted to loom over her like a beastly ogre and give her heart’s well being a run for its money. That thought ended quickly though as Papaya started to nip at the brim of Jason’s glasses. “Oh good grief,” Jason mumbled, rolling his eyes and leaned down towards Ellie’s direction. His shadow engulfed Ellie as he eclipsed the ceiling light to draw closer. The heart in her chest might have exploded in fear when he bowed his head at her. Though upon seeing the little trouble maker’s untroubled play in his hair, Ellie’s shaking ceased. Perhaps, there wasn’t anything for her to worry about after all. Ellie reached her hands out to coerce her babies onto her shoulder and pushed aside tufts of hair to get to them. Though she froze when she felt a huge sigh brush against her legs. “I don’t know what to do,” Jason groaned, “no one in the world is going to know how to help me, never mind fix me.” His fingers halfheartedly fiddled with his socks, not really giving Ellie’s fiddling with his hair much mind. Ellie frowned, placing her birds onto her shoulder and gave the crown of Jason’s head a few pats. “Thanks,” Jason said. “No problem…” Ellie responded, though she did pause for a moment to contemplate a suggestion that Jason probably wasn’t going to like very much. “You know, ” Ellie continued, “there is someone who knows a lot about giants and he already knows about this curse.” “No way,” Jason objected, raising his head up to look Ellie in the face. She stepped back in a panic, trying to not be in the path of his drastic head swing. “Wait- hear me out,” Ellie pleaded, “Motor might be a bit… eccentric, but he might be our only available expert on how to handle yourself when you’re like- big.”

“He’s not a professional Ellie, he's a nerd,” Jason said, folding his arms indignant, “all he’d be able to teach me would be how to level a hospital.” Jason kept coming up with complaints while he watched her carry her birds back to their cage. Though most of those unwarranted complaints went through one ear and out the other. “And he’s just not all that bright honestly, how could I trust that ido… ” Jason’s rant was cut short by the daggers Ellie was staring at him, “My bad.” He learned to shut his mouth and sat there with gripped hands on his knees. “I know you two aren’t always on the best of terms,” Ellie said, “but he wants to help you and might be your only option for insight.”

The very idea of Jason having to grovel to Motor for help was already humiliating enough, but reaching out to him about this life threatening disease? Jason would almost rather stay indoors for the rest of his life. Realistically however, it would be only a matter of time before he hurts someone or destroys his house. Unfortunately it would seem like getting help from Motor was going to be his only option even if it was going to be an agonizing experience.

“Augh, Alright then if I don’t have a choice,” Jason said with a defeated sigh, “can’t help to feel that this is going to be a big mistake.”

Ellie closed the bird cage behind her, “Come on man,” she said as she walked back to Jason with a smile on her face, “What’s the worst thing that can happen?”

“Something terrible I reckon,” Jason responded, his fingers gripping his knees with another long sigh, “Also uh, can you help me shrink back to normal please?”

-----

Nothing happens in Stanley, Idaho. Well, that’s how one particular citizen would like to keep it.

This unassuming older woman stepped out of her lifted jeep with little effort and made her way inside the tea shop. A subtle exchange of knowing nods were exchanged between her and the front store worker as she walked past the meticulously put together display of various tea leaves. Upon reaching the elevator in the back of the shop, she proceeded to press the following buttons: Lobby, 1, 9, 8, 7, and pound. The elevator closed, and took her below the ground floor, which shouldn’t be possible for a two-story building.

As the elevator took its sweet time, she glanced down at her Hamilton military watch and gripped onto her steaming hot americano in her other hand. Seeing the watch read ‘5:00am’ made her groan with distaste. It was way too early for her to be up at her age. Duty calls, however, and she begrudgingly accepted.

After waiting for what felt like an eternity for the elevator to stop on the correct floor, she stepped out and was greeted by a long metal corridor that was barricaded with several security doors. Unperturbed, the woman walked up to each door, the same song and dance she always put up with to get to her damn office. Fingers to the hand scanners, eyes to the headache inducing retina scanners, and the most embarrassing of all, sticking her tongue out to a DNA analysis to let her through the final door. She had wondered if the engineers thought that last trial was some kind of bad joke.

Nevertheless, She slogged into the massive intelligence operation room that was filled with the panicked voices of government workers. They have all been responding to all sorts of calls for assistance to deal with found anomalies and confused 911 operators. However, the older woman was used to this chaos, and promptly walked past all of the pesky underlings trying to ask her questions. Even if she wanted to answer their queries, she had no idea what was going on or what she was called in for during her vacation.

Once she got to her office, she took off her windbreaker coat and wearily donned her standard issue FAIRA director’s coat. Before she headed to her desk, her hand shuffled through her windbreaker coat’s pocket and pulled out an opened box of cigarettes. Today was going to be difficult, why else would her superiors spring a surprise call-in on her? It didn’t take long for her to sit down at her desk and log her passwords into the computer with the help of her countless post it notes. The video call did not take its time either, ringing the moment her desktop loaded. She rolled her eyes and answered.

“Witch reporting in, receiving you loud and clear Eagle,” the director spoke before she heard the ear-grating voice come from the other end.

“EEEY BLAIR! How’s it goin’ grandma?”

“Sir, we have discussed this, we need to use our code names, also do not refer to me as grandma ever again.”

“OOOOH YEEEAAAH… I forgot.”

“Of course, sir. Anyway, was there any godforsaken reason why I was pulled from my vacation?”

“Calm down grandma! This is your crop and you gotta be the cream of it, ya hear?”

“Just get to the point.” “Aye soooo, we got a situation brewin’ up in the lil’ Washington, oooh yeah. You gotta take care of this ASAP. Ya see, they found these shiny rocks fallin’ out of the sky and it looks like your ring, if you catch my drift.”

“Right, so why isn’t NASA leading this operation?” “HMmmmmm uh, remember those budget cuts?” “I see.” “And while I love my guys in camo, they ain’t got the brain cells like your eggheads do, ooohh nooo.” “Fine, I’ll dispatch my team in the pacific northwest immediately-” “Oh no sister! You’re goin’ to pack your bags too!” “What!? Why?” “Cuz I noticed yer always sitting on your ass in that chair for years and I think you’re forgettin’ what it’s like to be one of your men, grandma.”

“My way of running things does not hold any relevance to the situation and for the last time; stop calling me grandma. I have a codename, Eagle, use it. ”

“It does more than you think chica, with somethin’ this big, I don’t think you should skimp on it. Plus, it’s the big Eagle’s orders so ya got no choice ya hear me?” She groaned, “…Understood sir.”

#heart thump #g/t #gt community #giant tiny #gt writing #giant/tiny #gt #writing #giant #jason #Ellie #Thank you guys <3

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