#i never added to the masterlist because it's actually terrible

[cherriegyuu]

Actually going through my blog to get the Kris Wu fic permanently removed.

I never even added it to my masterlist and it's been years since I posted so I kind of forgot about it but someone just liked one of the chapters and I'm 🤮🤮🤮

[nereidprinc3ss]

do you believe me now? | 5

in which spencer reid and fem!reader are reunited, but the worst kind of sparks are flying. you meet a man named randall. derek morgan buys you a drink (sort of). it seems that some things can't be unsaid.

series masterlist

this series is 18+ warnings/tags: r goes to a bar but doesn't drink alcohol, gets hit on by weird men, dramatic, angst, sorry in advance a/n: surprise! i'll see myself out. love you! lmk your thoughts on this bad boy! i KNOW you'll have some! i'm locking all my doors and the cops are on speed dial after posting this. stay tuned for part six tho

You don’t call Spencer for four days. 

Spencer doesn’t call you for four days. 

It’s scary. 

There’s some texting—mostly him giving you updates on how things are going and when he expects to be back. Mostly you giving the messages a thumbs up and saying nothing else. 

Finally, on Thursday afternoon, his ringtone (the Bill Nye theme) makes you jump as you’re sitting on your bed staring into space. 

His caller ID photo—which is simply his passport photo, because you’d thought it was adorable—stares at you. You stare back. Contemplate not picking up. 

But you’re not quite there yet. 

And you cannot keep listening to Bill Nye the Science Guy. 

The answer button is cold under your thumb, but not as cold as your greeting. 

“Hi.”

You barely recognize your own voice. 

It seems to send Spencer for a loop as well, because his reply is halting. 

“Hey! Hi, um—how are you? I feel like we’ve barely talked this week.”

That would be because you told me my feelings for you are stronger than your feelings for me and I don’t know how to stop making every single word I say secretly mean I love you. We can’t have a conversation without me loving you. It will always be in the room or on the phone with us. To ignore the presence of it is impossible, and I don’t know if I can ignore the absence of yours, either. 

“Uh… yeah. I’m fine. What’s up?”

There’s a pause. 

“We wrapped up this morning. We’re getting on the jet here in a few minutes, and, um—I know it’s not ideal, but we missed Derek’s birthday and Penelope is insisting we all go to his favorite bar tonight. And he told me that for his birthday he wants to meet you. So… would you be up for that?”

“You want… to take me to a bar?”

“No. I mean—I know it’s not really your thing, but we missed Derek’s birthday three years in a row, and—and I understand if you don’t want to meet him tonight, but we wouldn’t have to stay very long and I really, really shouldn’t skip it. Derek has saved my life on more than one occasion.”

“You could go without me.”

More silence. Every second hurts, but you don’t understand why he wants you to come meet his best friend if he thinks the two of you are in different places emotionally. 

But maybe he’s not going to break up with you just yet. Maybe he’s going to keep inviting you to bars and foreign film festivals and bookshops. Maybe he’s going to treat you exactly the same as he always has but with this new added layer of knowledge that the way he treats you isn’t actually love, and it never was, and you’re not sure if it has the potential to ever become love. Because if it did—wouldn’t it have already? What more do you have to offer than what you’ve already given him?

Breakup or no breakup, you feel sick. 

When he speaks his tone is similarly chilly. It’s welcome. You want him mad. If he can’t reciprocate your adoration, then the very least he can do is have the decency to reciprocate your reproach. 

“I could. Is that what you want?”

No. I don’t want any of this. I need you to know me well enough to know that. And if you can’t love me then at least get angry. At least show me you feel something other than passive contentment. 

“Yeah. Sure. I don’t know.”

A pause stretches so long your heart pounds. You watch the elapsed time of the call tick by, second by second, and you wait for the anticipation to crack under the weight of silence, to give way to some terrible jump scare or to give way at all. 

But the words that end the conversation (if you can even call it that) aren’t any great relief. They’re just sad, and chalk full of defeat. 

“Alright. I’ll… I’ll call you later.”

You feel like you’ve swallowed an ice cube. All the words you’d like to say are frozen in your stinging throat. 

“Okay. Um… I’ll let you board now.”

“The jet’s not…” but he trails off. When he speaks again he sounds just as hurt as you’d wanted—and it doesn’t make you feel better at all. “Okay. Bye.”

“Bye.”

The line goes dead, and your face is burning as tears fill your eyes for the hundredth time this week. That call was terrible and poisonous and you don’t feel like yourself. 

Things have gone so wrong so quickly, and all you know how to do is ice him out so he can’t do it to you first. But it’s not going to make this better. No matter how mean you are to him, at the root of it all you feel unloved and scared and alone and Spencer knows things about love and relationships that you don’t. He’s confusing you with all this talk of feeling differently about each other and I’ll be home tomorrow I miss you and things get complicated when one person likes the other more and let’s talk in person and will you come meet my best friend tonight. All of it leaves you motion sick and ugly crying in the fetal position. 

All you have to get through this is who you’ve always been, a little of the person you’ve become, and the love you harbor for Spencer which rattles around in your chest like a nail in an empty toolbox. At the moment it hardly seems helpful. It mocks you, pointing out the pathetic hilarity of your paradox. The only person who can comfort you, the person you want more than anything, is the reason you’re so upset in the first place. But you can’t help being drawn to him. 

Maybe the love you have for Spencer is more like a magnet in a compass. 

Even if he doesn’t feel it for you, you do love Spencer. And that goes beyond just loving the parts of him that like you. To hide from that love would be a gross disservice to yourself and all the work you’ve done to get here. It’s not as if you suddenly know exactly what the answer is—but you’re sure that hiding is the most childish, cowardly thing you could do and the furthest you could get from a resolution. Even if you can’t make him love you back, you refuse to allow yourself to fizzle quietly out of his life. This relationship deserves something more than that. 

So maybe you don’t have a plan when you wipe your eyes and pick up your phone. Maybe there’s no strategy behind your actions as you text Garcia for the bar location. But if you keep running from everything you’ll never get anywhere. All you can do is show up. It seems like the next best step. 

------

The pub isn’t too crowded—but for a Thursday night, you suppose it’s a bit busy. 

Boot heels hooked onto the metal foot-beam of the stool you’re sitting on, elbows resting on the polished mahogany surface of the bar, you’re staring into an untouched mixed drink. Then you glance down the bar to your right, at the man who’d bought it for you. 

Maybe your ensemble gave him the wrong idea. 

Coming to this gathering had required bravery, and you came armored. Your ensemble projects significantly more confidence than you’re currently feeling. It was intentional, a form of self-protection—but now you’re wondering if it’s projecting a little too much confidence. 

All done up, clearly still a little rough around the edges, and sitting alone at a bar was bound to draw the wrong pairs of eyes. 

“Hey, darlin’,” the gruff man says, approaching when you inadvertently catch his gaze. “Are you gonna drink that, or should I? Otherwise I’m lookin’ at eleven dollars right down the drain.”

You avert your eyes, scanning the groups dotted here and there. 

“I’m waiting for friends.”

“Does that make a free drink less appealing?”

He takes the stool next to you, off-gassing the scent of cigarettes and leather. 

“I’m not drinking.”

“Really? I’ve never seen a girl who looks as sad as you do come sit at the bar to stay sober.”

You frown, looking back up at the man next to you. He seems like the Hell’s Angels type—tattooed knuckles, leather jacket, grey beard, and a weathered face that’s clearly spent decades with the sun. Fifties, maybe younger and just looks more rugged. What does it say about how I look tonight that this is the kind of man I’m attracting, you wonder. Maybe you look desperate and just as lonely as you feel. As he claims you do. 

“I’m not sad.”

“Alright. I’ll take your word for it. But a happier girl wouldn’t be all alone.”

“I’m waiting for friends,” you repeat, letting the words drip like venom from your tongue. 

“I’m Randall. See? Now we're friends.”

“I don’t need more friends. I like the ones I have.”

Something catches Randall’s attention long enough to catch yours. He raises his bottle vaguely, gesturing beyond your shoulder. 

“Are those angry lookin’ guys in the suits marching right over here the friends you’re talking about?”

You turn your head, brows furrowed, and immediately see the gentlemen to whom your new pal is pointing out. 

Spencer is storming across the bar looking close to furious (which for him, means an expression so placid it gives you chills) followed by Derek Morgan—a man who you’ve only seen pictures of and is even more impressive in person. 

You hate how your breath catches, how your heart is already beating a little faster than usual at the sight of him even though you’re not exactly pleased with each other right now. 

Suddenly the bubbles in your cocktail are once again fascinating.

“Those are the ones.”

“And why are they dressed for church?”

Church?

“They’re FBI.”

“Ah. My lucky fuckin’ day.”

You almost snort. 

“Hey,” Spencer says sternly, hand settling on your back as he partially fills the small space between you and the strange man. “Who’s this?”

You shrug, sit up a little straighter, and take a shallow breath—not because you’re scared of this man but because Spencer is suddenly so close to you and you can feel his warmth and the air bending around him and the scent of him is genuinely dizzying to you. 

“Randall,” you exhale unenthusiastically. But the odd thing is that you’re rather grateful for Randall’s presence. Because now Spencer is here and you have no idea what you’re going to say to him. 

“Oh,” Randall says, sipping his beer unhurriedly before using it to gesture to Spencer. “You’re the boyfriend. You know, that’s funny, because she didn’t mention a boyfriend.”

“I didn’t mention anything. We weren’t having a real conversation.”

Randy holds his hands up defensively, fingers still wrapped around the neck of a sweating bottle. 

“I’m just saying it’s in-ter-esting. Not trying to start anything.” He stands, pauses for another sip—Spencer obviously isn’t sure what to make of this man because he says nothing. “But listen, man to man—you better buy her some flowers or a real pretty fuckin’ necklace or somethin’ because a happy girl in a happy relationship does not come pout at the bar all by herself.”

“Get out of here, man,” Derek finally speaks up. 

“Yeah, yeah.” He sets his empty bottle down and fishes in his pocket for a cigarette, sticking it between his lips. “But—just for the record—I have a wife. I wasn’t gonna do anything weird. Sometimes when you’re my age you just gotta live a little. Buy a pretty girl a drink. Piss off some Mormons, or whatever the fuck you are.”

This guy sounds like a bad Bruce Springsteen song. But part of you would almost rather hang out with Randall than be forced into a conversation you’re not prepared for with Spencer. 

And whose fault is that, you remind yourself. You decided to come be mature. Suck it up. 

“Goodnight,” Derek emphasizes. 

Spencer doesn’t say a word. You can feel his eyes boring smoking holes into the side of your face, and you look anywhere else.  

“I’ll be here next week after physical therapy like clockwork,” the stranger waves as he ambles away—but not before pointing at you. “You enjoy that drink, friend. And don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

What a weird man. 

There’s silence for a moment—in which Spencer refuses to stop watching you and you refuse to acknowledge that. 

“And here I was thinking Spencer made you up.” Derek has a beautiful smile and a warm, charming cadence as he holds out his hand for you to shake. “I’m Derek.”

You take the proffered hand and shake, offering him a shy smile and introducing yourself in kind. 

“Happy birthday, by the way. Sorry for crashing your party.”

Really, he’s stunning. 

“Thank you, sweetheart. And you’re not crashing anything. I told pretty boy here I wanted to meet you the second he started talking about a friend. But nah, he just wanted to talk and talk and talk about you—” 

“Alright,” Spencer mumbles, blushing, eyes finally torn from your profile. You smile slightly, brows knitting as Derek magically melts some of the terrible tension.

“Pretty boy?”

Before either of them can explain, someone shrieks in your general direction. You startle backward in your seat, and Spencer steps closer, hand sliding up your back as Penelope, JJ, and Emily join your little huddle. For only a second you allow yourself to shrink into him—before you’re straightening your posture like your spine is a metal rod and his touch burns. It’s a knee-jerk defensive reaction for which you have no explanation. You can’t see him, but you don’t feel his hand on you again. 

“Oh my god! Look at this beautiful person who I love!” Penelope exclaims, pushing past Derek to grab your face and kiss both of your cheeks. “Oh my god,” she says again, wiping sticky lipgloss away with her thumbs, “I totally meant to ask before I did that. But your face is just so kissable. I’m so glad you decided to come!”

“Hi, Penelope,” you smile half-heartedly, incapable of reciprocating her cheery mood. Fortunately, she’s cheery enough for a standard commercial flight’s worth of people, and probably thinks of Derek’s birthday as a national holiday—so she doesn’t pick up on this. 

Emily and JJ offer you tamer although perfectly kind greetings. 

“Ooh, what are you drinking?” Emily asks, leaning closer to examine the forgotten beverage in front of you. 

“Not that,” Spencer mutters, grabbing the glass and sliding it away from you. You give him an affronted look—and immediately wish you hadn’t, since you’re meeting his eyes for the first time since he left. His words stall for just a moment as his eyes dart between yours before he’s saying, “you shouldn’t accept a drink if you didn’t watch someone make it.”

The audacity of him to be acting protective makes you scoff. 

“That guy didn’t spike my drink. He was harmless.”

“People thought Ted Bundy was harmless, too.”

It’s such a ridiculous thing to say that you don’t even have a response—your eyes simply narrow and you shake your head. A claustrophobic silence falls over the small group. 

“Okay…” JJ murmurs. “Um, do you guys want to go check out the jukebox with me? We have to play all of the birthday boy’s favorites.”

Several enthusiastic yeses go around, but you’re too busy having a stand off with your boyfriend to take much notice. 

Soon, it’s just the two of you. 

“Controlling isn’t a good look for you,” you finally say, spinning to rest your elbows on the bar once more and studying the bottles of liquor on the shelves beyond. 

“Evasive and avoidant isn’t particularly flattering, either. I was under the impression that you had no intention of coming after that phone call earlier.” 

You scoff again as your blood heats. Already the conversation is going worse than you’d expected—and your expectations were not high. 

“Do you think the cab driver was a serial killer, too? Or maybe the bartender?”

He’s still behind you and slightly to the side—but he leans down, resting his own fists on the bar right next to you and speaking lowly, directly over your shoulder. 

“Why don’t you try speaking to me like we’re adults instead of starting meaningless arguments in order to get under my skin?”

From him, that hurts. 

It’s a branch on the tree of your greatest insecurity—the fear that you’re too inexperienced with relationships and that makes you too immature and he’s been lying every time he says it’s not an issue. Because of course it’s an issue. It’s why you fell in love with him, it’s why you don’t know how to fix it, and it’s why you’re incapable of actually expressing any of your feelings to him.

“Why do you think I’m here right now?” you whisper—as sharp and stinging as a poison dart. “I’m trying to be a fucking adult. I don’t want to be here.”

Silence. 

“Then why did you come?”

His voice is so calm it burns like dry ice. 

“Because! Because you asked me to, because—”

You can’t bring yourself to say it aloud. 

Because I’m obviously still in love with you and I can’t just turn that off. I tried to do the right thing. 

Instead you bury your face in your hands and let it hang in the air, unspoken. You know he knows. You just don’t know why he’s acting like you’re so unreasonable for being upset. 

“Let me make this very clear to you,” Spencer murmurs, brushing your hair away from your ear so tenderly, speaking so softly you could convince yourself that he’ll say something kind. It’s the closest he’s been in days and now that he’s here you feel how much you missed him in your bones. And even though you sense a trap, you can’t help but sit up straighter. You’ll be complicit in your own undoing if it means you can have him close. His breath shakes slightly as he inhales and you brace as best you can. “Nobody is forcing you to be here. You told me you weren’t coming and then you decided to show up. I was ready to give you the space that you were too scared to ask me for. But I can only take responsibility for so much of what is ultimately your bad behavior and your adolescent volatility. You can only blame so much of your bad behavior on inexperience before I run out of patience because I don’t find thoughtlessness and emotional immaturity compelling. I told you that if there is a disparity in the way we feel for each other, that was fine, and I meant it. But if you can’t cope with how I feel about you then don’t let me hold you back. I am not holding you hostage. You can leave whenever you want. So don’t waste your time punishing me because you don’t want to be here. And if you do want to be here, good. I want that too. But act like an adult and make a decision. My leniency has limits, even for you. I am asking that you do not push it any further than you already have.”

You don’t know how long it’s been since your last breath by the time he finishes his address.

Long enough that you’re dizzy when you push away from the bar and shoulder through the throng of patrons as quickly as you reasonably can without outright running. 

Long enough that when you burst out the door into the biting-cold night air, and finally take a deep, gasping breath, it burns and stings and aches and so does your head and your eyes as they well with hot, furious, heartbroken tears. 

You speed-walk to the end of the block, hand clamped over your mouth to muffle your cries and all the curse words you’d love to scream. 

Part of you knows you walked away from the bar in case he decided to try and follow you—but when you look over your shoulder the sidewalk is empty. You should’ve known better than to think he’d follow you after that. But at least it means you can have your breakdown by the relative safety of the bar, leaning your back against the dirty brick facade next to the entrance alcove and sliding down until your butt hits the cold concrete and you don’t even care. 

Who the fuck was that man in the bar who looked like Spencer and sounded like Spencer but spoke to you like this is all your fault, like it’s your fault you love him and he doesn’t love you back, like it’s ridiculous that you’d be upset, like you’re cruel and petty for having feelings about it, about him—for having any fucking feelings at all? And to think that was the man who you let know you more intimately than anyone ever has. Every insecurity you’d ever admitted to him was hurled back in your face like it was nothing. Hell—he even handed you the ones you’d never mentioned. He proved every terrible thought you’ve been having about yourself right. 

How could he be so unabashedly mean to you?

Spencer doesn’t have to love you. It seems clearer now than ever that he doesn’t. But part of you wonders if he suffered some sort of traumatic brain injury because that’s the only explanation for why he could go from treating you how he did before to treating you like he doesn’t even like you. 

You feel like you might throw up. 

“Called it,” a rasping, grumbling voice says from a few feet away. 

You look up, and spot fucking Randall standing under a street light ten feet away, still smoking. 

You go back to studying the tar spots on the sidewalk through bleary eyes. Pebbles sting as they press into your palms. Another one of the universe’s terrible jokes, you suppose. Just earlier you’d thought that you’d rather talk to Randall than Spencer and now here you are and here he is. 

“That kid as much of a dipshit punk as I thought he was?”

Hearing Spencer described as a kid and a dipshit punk is so jarring you almost stop crying. 

“He’s not a dipshit,” you sniff, voice thick with tears as you find yourself explaining Spencer Reid to this stranger for no reason at all. “He has an IQ of 187. He’s a genius.”

“Ah,” he scoffs dismissively, flicking ash from his cigarette. “Dipshit-ism don’t discriminate. Anyone can be one. Even your genius punk boyfriend. As a recovering dipshit myself I know what the work of a fellow dipshit looks like. And this has dipshit written all over it.”

You sob harder. 

Randall speaks calmly around his cigarette. 

“You know, I’m sorry for whatever you got goin’ on. But I’ve never not been the asshole when I got a hysterical woman in front of me. It’s nice that I can confidently say this time it is not my fault.”

The bar door opens, letting a warm burst of jovial music and chatter into the otherwise still night. Steps that are too heavy to be Spencer’s hit the concrete next to you—you look to your left and see Derek Morgan before he looks down and sees you. 

“Hey—you okay out here?”

“Why don’t you go ask your Jehovah’s Witness buddy? He did this.”

Derek makes a face, locating the source of this interjection. 

“Sir, I asked you to leave her alone once and I don’t appreciate being made to repeat myself. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, whatever. Fuck me for making friendly conversation, I guess. Gonna have to call my wife and tell her to pick me up down the street. I don’t want her on the damn phone while she’s driving.”

Randall wanders away again, still muttering to himself and smoking. Derek watches him go, staring daggers into his back until he turns his gaze to you. 

Goodbye, Randall, you think. Great. Now I have neither of them. 

“Hey,” he softens, crouching down to your level. “You okay?”

You sniff, wiping your cheeks and attempting not to smudge your makeup. It’s impossible not to feel awkward—you just met this guy and now he’s here trying to do emotional labor for you on his birthday. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. This is embarrassing.”

“You don’t look fine. Can I do anything for you? Do you want some food? A drink?”

“You really don’t have to—”

“I know, I know. But look—Reid is always talking about you. You’re important to him, and he’s important to me. I’ve never seen him this happy and I’ve known that kid a long time. It is in my best interest that someone maintain you, and if it’s not him, it’ll be me. Call it a favor to him, if that makes you feel better.” Derek is sporting a slightly more modest Cheshire grin again by the end of his sentence. Listening to him speak that way about Spencer speaking about you, it’s impossible not to feel a teeny bit lighter. Even if you’re not entirely sure where you stand on all things Spencer related at the moment. “So I’ll ask you again. Is there anything I can do for you?”

You sniff again. 

“Sure. A ginger ale or something might be good.”

“Got it. I’ll be back. And come inside if Randall tries to run up on you again, okay?”

Despite yourself you manage a laugh at the way he says the name. His warm smile flickers warmer at this.  

“Will do.”

When Derek returns a few minutes later, the plastic cup he’s holding looks decidedly not like ginger ale. 

“Penelope insisted that this is what you would want. I don’t even know.”

You smile slightly as you take the cup, full to the brim with bubbles and thick red syrup. A cherry bobs underneath the layer of cubed ice. 

“Shirley temple,” you chuckle. “I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome,” he says, flashing that brilliant smile again, and you look into your cup as you drink. Maybe your face warms just a bit. You’re still shy around men, you realize. Especially attractive ones. And Derek Morgan definitely qualifies as attractive. 

“So,” he begins, and to your surprise, crouches down in front of you. “I have to be honest—I came out here in the first place because Reid sent me to check on you. But now I’m wondering what the hell he did.”

Spencer sent him. A considerate action that would theoretically signal his care for your feelings. You take another sip, staring into space and trying to digest this information, but it only jumbles with the rest to confuse you more. 

Of course, you don’t know how to convey this to Derek in a way that’s not overly-familiar for just having met the man, so you go with an old standby. 

“I’m probably just overreacting.”

“Uh-huh. I have sisters. I know what an overreaction looks like and if you were overreacting you wouldn’t be out here hiding. What’d he do?”

You can only keep up the facade of emotional stability for so long. Your chin wobbles in a horribly embarrassing way and you look down again. 

“I’m not sure—I’m not sure if he really did anything or if I’m just being dramatic and I don’t want to make him seem—”

“Why don’t you stop defending him and just tell me what he did?” Derek urges. “Trust me—I love that kid to death. But I also know he can be a dick sometimes. You don’t need to worry about making him look bad in front of me.”

Part of you is glad Spencer has such a good friend on his side. And Derek is right—Spencer is an adult. You don’t need to worry about besmirching his reputation. So you take a shuddering sigh, staring into the red of your drink. 

“He just doesn’t like me as much as I like him. Which isn’t his fault, like I said, but—he’s being such an asshole about it.”

Derek pulls a face, strong eyebrows making an impression as they knit.  

“Did he tell you that?”

“Over the phone,” you nod emphatically. “And just now he gave me this whole fucking speech about how immature and horrible I am for not being 100% happy about it. And maybe he’s partially right, I mean—I know people feel things differently and maybe he just was asking for more time. I worry I fucked it up so bad because I couldn’t handle that—but at the same time he didn’t say he wanted more time. He was really fucking unclear and vague about what he wanted, and he asked me to come to this bar like it was nothing when I’ve been worried he was going to break up with me all week. So yeah, I guess he’s right and I have been a bitch about it because I was upset that he didn’t… like me as much. And I wanted him to feel bad because I was so embarrassed, and I also didn’t want to act like everything was normal if he was just going to dump me, I…” you realize you’ve been hardcore rambling and your face heats. “I don’t know.”

There’s a pause, and you worry you’ve done exactly the thing you didn’t want to, which was overshare to this man who seems like he’s significantly more normal and well-adjusted than you. You drink deeply, swallowing sugar and the rest of your words. 

“That’s… bizarre. I don’t mean to invalidate your feelings, but… that just doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah,” you scoff, projecting annoyance so you won’t start crying again. “I was confused too. I thought he really liked me.”

“No, sweetheart, I’m saying—that doesn’t make sense because he does really like you. Really, really likes you, more than I’ve ever seen him like someone before. I mean, last week I finally finished that Tesla biography he’s been on my ass about for months and when I told him, all he wanted to do was talk about your thoughts on it. And then it wasn’t even about the book anymore. I have never, ever seen Reid pass up an opportunity to talk about Nikola Tesla. I’m talking never in my life. He finds a way to make every conversation about you. I can’t even follow the connections sometimes but he always finds a way.”

Your nose wrinkles. 

“Sorry you’ve had to hear so much about me,” you mumble. Though you’re not really sorry. It feels good. A twinge of joy in all the murk. 

“I’m not. Like I said, I’ve known Spencer for a long time and I’ve never seen him this happy. I’m not about to let him fuck it up.”

“If I make him so happy then why did he tell me we don’t feel the same?” you whisper, reaching into the puddle of syrup and ice at the bottom of your now empty cup. 

“Is that exactly what he said?” Derek asks, after a long pause. You bite the maraschino cherry off the stem and nod morosely, grinding a long-gone stranger’s cigarette butt with your boot just to crush something. There’s another beat of silence. “Alright. You know what I think?”

You raise your head to meet his gaze, your own wide-eyed and expectant. 

“I think you two need to have an honest conversation. You’re both confused and hurting—I promise Spencer is feeling it too. If you talk to him he won’t be unkind to you.”

“He already was,” you admit. 

“I apologize if I’m out of line here, but you just told me you’ve been icing him out all week because you want him to feel bad. I’m willing to bet you don’t realize how sharp these claws are.” Derek grabs your hand as he says it and you marvel at how much he is the opposite of you. Everything he does and says seems so natural and reasonable and charming even if it would piss you off from anyone else—and you just met the guy. You can see why Spencer and Penelope speak so highly of him. “I think you’ve probably both had your moments these past few days. But that doesn’t mean neither of you deserve any more chances.”

He puts your hand back on your knee and pats it. 

“Besides, Spencer‘s not good at mean. I bet he’s inside worrying himself sick over whatever dumb shit he said to you. He’s probably hyperventilating as we speak.”

“It was really out of character for him,” you concede. 

“Yeah. He’ll be apologizing for a long while. It will get annoying. But he sure as hell won’t be doing it again, I can tell you that much. If he does, let me know. Emily and I will whoop his ass and call it a fitness evaluation.”

“I think that’ll be unnecessary,” you laugh thickly, pulling your sleeve over your hand and wiping away the few tears that haven’t quite dried. “But thank you.”

“Anytime. Now, it’s my birthday, and as a grown man I should not be getting involved in someone else’s relationship drama. I was supposed to be on the dance floor a while ago.” His tone is so warm and sugary by the time he finishes it could rot his perfect grin. It’s futile to hide the way your mouth twists into a reluctant smile as you look down and fix your hair—praying he can’t tell how fazed you are by his kindness. “You’re going to talk to him, right?”

“I’ll—yeah. Right,” you say quietly. But the sinking feeling in your stomach knows it’s a thing easier said than done. 

“Good,” Derek grunts, taking your empty cup before pushing himself back up to his feet and offering you a hand. “Do you want me to send him out here or do you want to come find him inside?”

You balk.

“Like—right now? I have to talk to him now?”

Before he can give you an answer you think you’d rather not have, the bar door is opening. From your spot you can’t see who it is right away, but Derek turns over his shoulder and does a double take before looking back at you. 

Spencer steps out onto the sidewalk, eyes scanning for until he realizes you’re a few feet shorter than usual. Sitting on a filthy public walkway is probably his worst nightmare, you realize, as you scramble to your feet and dust the crumbs of concrete from your palms against the back of your cold jeans. He begins to say your name, and it sounds like relief and regret, but you stop him. 

“I have to go wash my hands.”

It’s monotonous and mumbled and comes out too quickly but you don’t have time to worry about that as you brush past both of the men on your way back into the bar, making an immediate beeline for the bathroom. 

Your face burns with anxiety as you shut the door behind you, immediately drowning in the yellowish lighting which is so harsh but seems to illuminate almost nothing. Who paints a bathroom red? It’s suffocating. You feel like you’re inside an aorta. 

Water runs cool over your hands as you sniffle, rinsing the bits of dirt from red indents made by pebbles and things, and the soap is too floral and powdery but you wash twice anyway. Maybe you’ll just stay in here and wash your hands forever. 

There’s a light knock on the shiny wooden door and it makes you jump. Your name is muffled from the other side. 

“You in there?” 

Quickly you wipe under your reddened eyes in the mirror, trying to fix the slightly smudged makeup. 

The door opens when you don’t respond, and there’s Spencer, looking weary and tense all at once. Is that your fault?

“Hey,” you sniff, trying to effect casualness, but it comes out too quickly and your posture is too stiff. Under his all-seeing gaze you cross and uncross your arms, look at him and look away. Your hands end up in your pockets. He’d say crossed arms are a sign of self-soothing. 

“Hey.” His is more measured, and of course makes you feel embarrassed in comparison. The door swings shut behind him as he enters the small room and makes it feel that much smaller. “Are you… hiding from me in here?”

Yes. 

The graffitied toilet stalls to your left suddenly look fascinating. 

“Nope. Just washing my hands.”

This is not what Derek told you to do, you scold yourself internally. Stop being so scared. Be honest with him. 

Silence rings. All the brutally honest things you’d like to say choke you until your throat hurts and your eyes get hot. Yet again you feel like a stupid little girl who’s too emotional to communicate. 

You cross your arms. It’s an indulgence you feel you’re owed. 

Spencer says your name again and it’s too much. He never says it this often. When he does it feels good but now it’s too formal, makes you too aware of your own inadequacy, and how he must be seeing you—a wraith of a girl in a dingy bar bathroom with clammy hands and smudged eyeliner, practically shaking with fear under an unforgiving light. Someone who is too scared and much too sensitive. 

Spencer attempts to speak again. 

“What I said before, it was—”

“Can you just take me home?” 

It comes out on one exhalation and seems to stall him with all the effectiveness of a slap to the face. 

You don’t know where it comes from, either. 

Easier said than done, you’d thought a few moments ago. All the bravery Derek had tried to instill in you is gone, swallowed down the drain like soap scum. And now you’re choosing to let your fear win—because at least that’s a known quantity. The fear will never reject you. It will always be waiting with open arms. 

Too scared. 

The end feels imminent. You try to press yourself back together, fingernails biting into palms, trying to make something feel more tangible than the terrible knowingness that you’re careening toward an end which was supposed to be a beginning. It’s stifling and you wonder if Spencer is breathing it too. 

You can’t look at his face, but you watch him pocket his hands in his pants and there is so much impossible space between you in such a tiny room. 

“Yeah. I can.”

Something breaks. It’s small, and without fanfare. But it feels final. 

It’s just a ride home. Just a ride home. 

That’s all you have left, and you don’t know how you know it but you do. 

Something so important is being left in this stupid, dingy bathroom. Something that was at one point beautiful and shiny and so arrogant in its newness that it seemed it would never become ugly. And now you’re abandoning it without dignity on the chipped tile floor and in the cobwebs on the walls. It was bigger than you, it was you—and now it’s going to be nothing. 

A vehicle honks on the street. A boisterous group laugh explodes somewhere beyond the door. Water drips from a faucet. 

“I’ll… I’ll bring my car around.”

“Okay.”

But he just stands there for another moment. Like he can’t get himself to move. 

If only time would freeze before he could walk away. 

But it doesn’t. 

He sucks in a decisive breath. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. 

It’s that fucking phone call all over again. 

Then he spins on his heels and leaves you there.

Your time is up. 

-

part 5.5

[sapphosclosefriend]

-Thanksgiving Fun-

Pairing: Stepcousin! Masc! Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Genre: smut

Summary: you were never able to resist her, not even on Thanksgiving.

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: top! (beefy and tattooed 🤤) Natasha x bottom! R, stepcest, enemies with benefits, allusions to weed consumption, SMUT, oral on strap on (R giving), throat fucking (R receiving), strap on sex (R receiving), extremely brief oral (R receiving), squirting (R)

A/N: this story contains smut so anyone who isn’t 18+ DNI. I literally wrote this in 2 days out of a frenzy so Idk how good it is…M, P, G pt 2 will come, I promise!!!! Once again, thanks to @rt--link for being so sweet! As usual, likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated! Enjoy ♡

Masterlist

It was already November, which meant it was Thanksgiving time! You were so excited to finally get back home for a little bit after the couple of months you had spent away at uni. Contrary to most of your friends, you actually really liked Thanksgiving. Yes, it meant having to undergo the neverending interrogation from your classically nosy aunts, but you gladly did it every year to be able to spend some time with all of your relatives, even the ones who lived a bit more far away. Of course she was also one of them, though.

Natasha was one of your aunt’s daughters. Her mother had married your uncle 3 years before, making her, the redhead and her sister officially part of the family. Everyone liked Nat as soon as she became part of the group and her sister Yelena, with her sharp wit, was, if possible, even more beloved by everybody. As soon as the two girls regularly entered your lives, you had followed everyone’s advice and started to hang out together. You’d always felt very lucky for having cousins of your same age range, making them some of your closest friends ever, and having the chance of adding someone else to the group immediately sounded like the best idea ever, or at least that’s what you had thought at first.

That was because you didn’t like Natasha, you just didn’t. If at first, while witnessing her interactions with other people, she seemed to be the sweetest girl in the world, once you finally got to know her personally you started loathing her. She wasn’t necessarily a bad person, she was just so irritating all the time. And the worst part was that, apparently, she only acted that way with you, not with her friends, not with your other cousins, not even with her own sister, just with you. If you thought that, thanks to uni’s social life, you had met the cockiest motherfuckers in the world, you were utterly wrong. Natasha was the most terrible one of them all. It was constant teasing, constant comments, constant jokes, constant snickering and each time you heard her voice or looked at her, you wanted nothing more than to wipe that smug smirk off her pretty face.

You didn’t know how it all started. Well, of course you knew that one time, at your grandma’s house to celebrate her birthday, Natasha had been particularly annoying since the moment you’d gotten there, which resulted in you being bitchy and her pulling you into the bathroom and kissing you once she had you trapped against the locked door. You hated it, every second of it and the fact that you ended up begging her to keep going while she was with her fingers knuckle deep inside of you wasn’t of any importance. You weren’t proud of what happened that day, but you were too nice to deny her when a couple of days later she was at your door ripping your clothes off of you. You were both attending the same uni and, despite literally never seeing each other in academic nor social settings, you started finding the closeness to be a much bigger impediment to your initial want to put a stop to your newly found situation. You were growing weaker and weaker to her charm, only while in the bedroom of course, and your intent to end it all kept getting pushed to the back of your mind each time you came with her name on your lips, until it was completely gone.

And that’s how you ended up at yet another family gathering partly ruined by her, this time to celebrate Thanksgiving, having to try to push away the tingle between your legs at the sight of her in her usual casual clothes hiding the defined muscles underneath as she talked with her dad and your grandpa about something involving a bike she was fixing up for herself. You were keeping your distance for your own sanity, but you could clearly hear their words and her low, raspy voice regularly adding to the conversation. You didn’t know what the hell they were talking about and either way, you had stopped actively listening long before, once you got lost in the view of her hand as she held her glass. The second she noticed your eyes fixed on her, you were thankfully saved from her most definitely coming over to tease you, by your cousin Clint, bored out of his mind and equally in need of leaving as soon as possible, even if for very different reasons than you. Ok, maybe him being the person talking to you didn’t exactly make him your savior, he was the person Natasha had gotten the closest to after all, which meant that, as soon as she once again turned to get a peek of your outfit she particularly appreciated, he immediately called her over, most definitely hoping to lure her away from the party. She couldn’t have been more obvious with the way her eyes kept ranking your body head to toe as she listened to his frustrated rambling, but thankfully Clint’s desperation blinded him from noticing the less than innocent way in which her gaze was on you.

“I’m begging you Nat, I’ll get on my knees! Just one!”

You both couldn’t help but chuckle at the grown man’s antics, when you suddenly realized that you had no idea of what the hell they were talking about. You barely had the time to open your mouth to ask them directly, when, of course, she interrupted you without a care to keep talking to her friend.

“Fine, but I’m taking half of it”

As soon as the first word barely left her mouth he was throwing his fist in the air and putting his coat on to go to the guest house she was staying in with you. Because of course you had been placed in the same room, in the small guest house in the backyard that only consisted of one room with one bed. You didn't know why, but everyone apparently thought of you two as some sort of best friends just because you both went to the same uni, despite, again, the known fact that you did not have one single class together, lived in different places and had completely different friends, meaning that you only saw each other when she called you over or randomly popped up at your place to fuck, but of course they didn't know any of that.

“A quarter..”

He was already leaving once he spoke his final words, leaving her alone with you to shake her head at her friend’s antics.

“Fine”

You hated how easily she seemingly had you under a trance as she murmured the word while smiling to herself. She was able to put you out of it equally fast, though, as she turned to you to regard you before leaving the celebration to follow after Clint.

“Are you coming?”

Her almost soft tone had to have given you some sort of whiplash as you stood there, looking at her without being able to utter a single word for a second, before regaining control over your own mind, and sanity, once you noticed her lips starting to curl into her usual mischievous smirk.

“Don’t worry, I’m gonna stay here a bit longer”

She was once again putting at risk your ability to talk as she ran a hand through her short hair to get it out of her face and moved closer and closer to you, sneaking her gaze towards the other side of the room where most people had moved to, before reaching behind you to get a snack from the table you were leaning against, pressing her front against yours and letting your feel a certain something poking your lower belly.

“I’ll wait for you then”

She looked way too pleased by your slightly widened eyes as you tried to contain your emotions in order not to draw any attention to the two of you.

“You’re packing?”

Her brows furrowed as you whisper yelled at her, before speaking matter of factly.

“Of course I’m packing, I’m always packing when I’m with you”

She didn't give you the time to respond to her, immediately licking the chocolate off her fingers while shamelessly looking at your cleavage before turning to go to the guest house. She was infuriating, her and her constant horniness. You decided to casually join some conversations here and there for the brief rest of the night, until almost everyone had gotten to bed, including a much more relaxed Clint, and it was just you and your aunt gossiping in the living room. The moment your phone buzzed in your lap you almost had a feeling of who might had been trying to get in contact with you, so you cautiously lifted the screen, in case a certain someone decided to share something a little too private, and noticed she had sent you a picture.

The moment you clicked on it, the initial, brief awe you found yourself lost in at the sight of her posing with her tongue peaking out and the hood of her sweatshirt over her cap, was unfortunately wiped away once you finally read the caption under it. You couldn’t help but mentally facepalm at her dumb words, even if you had to reluctantly admit that the text was successful in making your heart leap at its crude nature.

“Not enough pressure on my 🍆”

Her finger was pointing to the word “pressure” printed on her hoodie, why did she have to be that way? You knew what she wanted from you, it was all she seemed to be thinking about, like some pussydrunk teen, and the way she didn’t even ask you if you were down for it, expecting you to just indulge her wish, didn’t sit right with you. Who did she think you were? Her whore always waiting for her like a pet?

You locked your phone with a frustrated sigh and got up from the couch, quickly finding an excuse with the immediate questioning you got from your aunt as to why you'd go back to your room so early.

By the time you walked across the whole backyard and got to the entrance of the guest house you were finally able to make out her figure, sitting on the wicker armchair under the small porch with all the lights off, in complete darkness, to hide the very end of a hand rolled cigarette between her fingers and the suspiciously smelly smoke coming from her.

“Your tits look good in that shirt”

You knew it was coming, as soon as you had chosen your outfit, you knew some sort of comment was to be made by her, although it had taken her a bit longer than you had expected. You were wearing a quite simple blouse with a boob window, in reality nothing as scandalous as it sounded, but the complete opposite in Natasha’s eyes. The way your jeans perfectly hugged your ass and the sway of your hips anytime you had walked past her, were just the cherry on top to the main course right below your pretty face.

You barely looked at her as you kept walking by her past the door without acknowledging her words, hearing her chuckle at your usual uptight self. You hated to admit it, but the way she was manspreading, making a bulge under her sweatpants slightly visible, while she casually smoked, had made you even more willing to help her out with her “pressure issue”, not that she needed to know about your enthusiasm anyway. By the time you were just starting to get undressed she entered the room, locking the door behind her and standing against it to shamelessly look at your ass as you leaned down to take your shoes off. As soon as your pants were off too and you were about to slip off your shirt she spoke up.

“No no no, keep that on”

Despite the way too pleased look on her face, you were silently thankful for the piece of clothing still on you in the slightly chilly room. You didn’t even bother to take your warm, ankle high socks off and left yourself fall on your back on the bed, feeling satisfied after noticing her swallowing and wetting her own lips as her eyes stayed fixed on your boobs’ slight jiggling as you had dropped on the mattress. Once you got comfortable on top of the soft duvet, you made sure to look right at her as you slowly spread your legs and immediately started lightly rubbing yourself through the fabric of your own underwear, moaning softly at the light stimulation as a way to tease the motherfucker in front of you. Without uttering a word, she left her spot by the door and walked over to you, stopping at the foot of the bed to grab her cock through her pants and slowly pump it. Pushing down her sweatpants just enough for the dildo strapped to her hips to spring out, she gave you a peak of the beautiful, defined v lines you had kissed over so many times and the bottom of the tattoos on her torso and abdomen you had to admit you loved. There was some ink peeking out from the cuff on her wrist as well, making the sight of her strong hand holding the base of her cock even more pleasing.

“Come here, get it wet”

You wanted to come up at least with a remark at her blunt order, but found nothing but anticipation in you and your body, as if moving by its own accord, immediately left your spot to kneel on the bed right in front of her crotch. You didn't waste any time, you couldn't have even if you wanted to, and, as soon as your lips touched the head of her cock, you tried your best to relax your throat in order to take as much of her length as you could, earning a pleased hum from her at the sound of your gags every time she reached the back of your throat.

“Now that's a cocksucker”

Her words pulled your eyes to her face and found her looking intently at you. The groan that came from her once you stopped bobbing your head to stay still with her cock still in your mouth sent a strong twing of arousal through you as she easily understood what you wanted.

She gently grabbed your head with both hands to keep you in place and immediately started to move her hips to fuck your face. Relishing the sight of a string of spit dropping on the part of your chest exposed by the cut in your shirt, she started pushing even deeper to see just how far you were willing to go for her. The resistance was clear as she pushed a bit more of her cock with every other thrust, until you finally couldn't wait anymore and grabbed her ass to give her a push and hopefully make her understand what she needed to do. With one final thrust she managed to push herself past your tight throat until your nose was touching her crotch. She couldn't help herself and rushed to get her phone from her pocket to snap a picture of you looking up at her with watery eyes as you grasped her ass cheeks through her pants to keep her from moving away. It was only once the need to breathe got the best of you that you pushed yourself off of her, sucking in a deep breath while Natasha stared with hooded eyes at your swollen lips and the spit connecting them to her cock.

“You say you hate me but you need my cock that much?”

You hated so much how true her words were and tried to distract yourself from the thought by lying back down and grabbing her cock now covered in your spit.

“Well, you're obsessed with my pussy so it's even”

She just smirked at your remark, deep down knowing that you were so fucking right. She couldn't get enough of it, all the girls she had fucked and she had to loose it for her stepcousin? Well, she honestly didn't give a shit, as long as you were careful she was going to keep fucking you like the slut she knew you were for her deep down.

“For the first time I've gotta say you're right”

You didn't even have the time to process her words and the shock that they had caused when she suddenly moved your underwear to the side and grabbed your ass tightly to lift your hips and get a taste of you, moaning exaggeratedly at her now favorite snack. Despite the leg shaking orgasm you knew she would've easily gotten out of you with her mouth, you pushed the delicious thought to the side and firmly grabbed her hair to lift her from your center.

“Right now I need your cock balls deep in my pussy, not your mouth”

Her lips looked way too delicious as they glistened with your juices and as they curled up she suddenly left go of your ass, making you yelp as you fell back to your lying position, before grabbing your thighs and pushing them to each of your sides, waiting for you to keep them there yourself with your arms to fully open yourself up for her. From the position you had a clear view of her strap as she rubbed it over your wet folds before finally pushing its head inside of you. She could never get enough of seeing your reaction at her entering you for the first time and once again, she couldn't help but keep her eyes on your face from the first moment. She fucked you just with the tip for a bit in order for you to get used to her and, gradually pushed more and more inside as you rubbed your own clit. You knew you were very far away from everybody else, but you still tried your best to keep your volume as low as you could, making her smirk at the clear signs of your struggle to do so.

“More, go faster”

She loved it every time when your uptight, moralist voice turned in a second into the pathetic begs of her own cockdrunk whore and who was she to give up the chance of fucking her personal pussy when she asked for it? After lifting up her hoodie a little to get a better view of your center begging to be filled up more and more, she firmly grabbed your waist, gradually thrusting faster and harder until she had set a pace that knocked your breath away every time she pushed her hips forward and her tip stroked your g spot so deliciously a deep sensation quickly started to build up inside of you. Her flexed abs and veins popping up on her hands made the pleasure she was making you feel, become even stronger, getting your orgasm closer by the second. It honestly amazed you how fast she was always able to make you cum and, despite not wanting to show her any weakness, you admittedly always felt a little self conscious because of it. You could barely keep it anymore, though, it was going to happen in a matter of seconds and your mouth opening in shock told her everything she needed to know.

“Wait, I think I'm gonna-”

You didn't have the chance of finishing your sentence before an earth shattering orgasm hit you so strongly that small, clear droplets spilled out of you every time she pulled back.

“Holy shit”

She panted the words to herself before swiftly pulling out completely and quickly rubbing her fingers over your clit, making you moan loudly as you squirted even more for her while you rode out your orgasm. By the time you were done, your legs were a little shaky and you were almost sobbing from how intense and quick it all was. Once you looked back at her, though, you knew you would've gladly done it as many times as she wanted. Her abs were a little wet from your orgasm, with a couple of drops still lingering on her tattooed skin, and, once your eyes locked with hers, she looked like the most dangerous predator eyeing its prey, ready to eat it in one bite, and, god, wasn't she going to do exactly that.

After all, maybe Thanksgiving was actually going to be even better with her.

.

.

.

Tags: @fxckmiup @natashasilverfox @dmenby3100

[starstruckmoony]

so high school.

masterlist

pairing - james potter x reader

summary - that one cute nerdy guy from your lectures gives you a follow and you end up actually falling for him.

trope/tags - modern!au, uni/college!au, instagram/social media!au, fluff, terrible humor

word count - 704

warnings - language, suggestive jokes

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

prongsyboy

❤️ liked by yourusername, pandorasbox, marymacdonald and 167 others

prongsyboy me and remussy

tagged rjlupin

10 comments

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starmanblack ...yesterday

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mmmckinnon remus looks sooooo happy to be there

lily_evans my two favourite boys 🥹

starmanblack bit rude innit petey?

pete___ no words...

yourusername

❤️ liked by lily_evans, xeno_lovegood, starmanblack and 181 others

yourusername he said i remind him of the first line from robbers

12 comments

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yourusername even got himself a mention

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prongsyboy added to their story

yourusername

❤️ liked by r.a.black, rjlupin, marymacdonald and 174 others

yourusername freaky

13 comments

prongsyboy day ruined

yourusername excuse you?

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yourusername @/casmeadowes

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prongsyboy

❤️ liked by ev.rosier, casmeadowes, euphemiapotter and 183 others

prongsyboy roadtripppppp

tagged yourusername

13 comments

yourusername not the soggy chips

prongsyboy but i like them soggy 🤤

yourusername kys

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yourusername STOPPP

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pandorasbox keeping us fed

yourusername added to their story

prongsyboy

❤️ liked by vance_emm, r.a.black, mmmckinnon and 200 others

prongsyboy robbers intro?

tagged yourusername

14 comments

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prongsyboy this isn't about me

starmanblack OMG ROCKSTAR BF???

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marymacdonald @/yourusername marry that

ev.rosier starting to understand y/n...

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ev.rosier SEE?

bartyyy added to their story

yourusername

❤️ liked by euphemiapotter, rjlupin, lily_evans and 226 others

yourusername him.

tagged prongsyboy

17 comments

prongsyboy ME?

yourusername YOU!

prongsyboy ❤️

yourusername ❤️

prongsyboy think my mum approves

yourusername she actually told me that behind your back!

prongsyboy HUUUUUH

ev.rosier cute.

bartyyy RAAAAAHHHH HOW SWEET EW EW EW 😍🤮🥰🤢🥹

mmmckinnon SICK of you two

r.a.black tell me about it

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pete___ prongs won

starmanblack keep him extra safe pls thank you

rjlupin emphasis on extra

xeno_lovegood congratulations!

marymacdonald cuties 🫶

prongsyboy added to their story

[seresinhangmanjake]

The One I Want

Jake "Hangman" Seresin x plus size!reader

Summary: You're new in town and some guy named Jake is about to be your roommate. Being skeptical of new people keeps you lonely and uninterested in any entanglements, but Jake is desperate to change that.

Notes: This is part one of a new series.

Warnings: Judgment related to weight. Cursing. Fluff. Angst. Eventual smut (alluded to/or other). Self-esteem issues.

Words: 1622

Masterlist

---

You’re going to be new again. You’re so terribly tired of being new. But that's how it’s always been. Never in one place long enough to be considered a usual in town. Never a constant in anyone’s life. No. You’re the new girl, because people don’t give you a choice to be anything else. 

You learned it quite young. People’s lingering glances have nothing to do with curiosity or intrigue. They don’t stare because you’re particularly beautiful or unique-looking. Rather, they watch you so they may judge and criticize and tease. You learned it doesn’t fade as you age. People are people, and not all of them grow. Unfortunately for you, those people are scattered about the world as much as the good-hearted ones. But the good-hearted never approach you. They never look your way. 

Eventually, as it goes, the life you’re living, surrounded by those people, becomes too much. You get tired again. You leave that disappointing town. You find somewhere new. You repeat. The many places you’ve been have become tainted, and now you’re left with few. So few that two nights ago, instead of four different cities scribbled on notecards to choose from, there were three. The options are slimming. You put the cards in a bowl, closed your eyes, and now you’re a California resident, for however long that may be.

It’s extreme, you sometimes think—writing off a whole city or town when they’re full of other neighborhoods with different people who have fresh pairs of eyes—but it makes you feel better. You can say to yourself that you no longer live in that city or town. That city or town was an old life. 

In your new life—born from the moment you crossed the state line all of four hours ago—you’ve yet to feel out of place. Things have kept from souring. No wrong turns. No bad weather. A new apartment awaiting you from an ad you’d answered the day prior. The ad included a roommate you don’t want, but it’s cheap and all you can afford until you get a job. 

It’s also a risk. This “Jake” guy could be as bad as the rest, but there’s only one way to find out. And if he is bad—well, you’ve got two more notecards in your bag.

—

It’s nicer than you expected, and that brings forth a hearty handful of questions. Why would this guy need a roommate if he lived here? Why is the rent so cheap? And when you finally knock on the door, Jake is actually…a woman?

You do a quick scan of her face and form. She’s beautiful in nearly every conventional way. Her features fit in all the right places on her face. Her body is proportional, filling out clothes the way they are meant to be filled out. She’s intimidating. Not the roommate you expected, and certainly not a roommate you can handle having. She might very well be lovely, but you don’t need a daily reminder of what you are not. 

“Are you…Jake?” you ask.

“Natasha. You’re in the right place,” she replies, moving aside to make room for you to pass the threshold. 

Looking around, you almost gasp. The interior matches the grandness of its exterior wrapping. Lofted ceilings; natural light; walls painted in thick, throughout coats so as not to allow the slightest hint of their previous shade to peek through. It officially confirms what you hadn’t wanted to acknowledge before—you’ve grown too accustomed to living in dumps. From the shine of the floor alone, you know you’ve never held yourself to this guy’s standards. 

Will I have to meet those standards? 

“Jake couldn’t be here so he asked me to let you in,” Natasha says. “The key is on the counter.”

“Right, um–” You swallow, unsure how to ask what could easily be interpreted as rude. “And this Jake guy, is he…”

“Not a creep,” she promises with a light smile, “Just irritating.”

“That’s a relief.”

“If you like arrogant pilots.”

You almost tell her that a know-it-all plane man is probably one of the last people you intend to worry about—falling in place next to old ladies, babies, and tiny dogs—but you keep your mouth shut. She doesn’t need your story. And if Jake is a pilot, then it seems safe to say he won’t be around enough to bother figuring you out, either. 

“I can handle a pilot.” As long as he keeps to himself—Another thing you don’t say. 

The brunette nods. “Then this might work out after all,” she says before giving you a once-over. “He’ll definitely be surprised by you, though."

That stops you, nudging you back into a past you’re trying to forget. It makes your breath catch in your throat. Your ears begin to thump from a quickening pulse. “What do you mean by that?”

Chocolate brown eyes widen briefly before relaxing back into an indifferent mask. “Nothing. I’m sure you’ll get along fine,” she says. Another smile. Same as before. Then, “If you’re okay, I actually have somewhere to be.”

Releasing a tense exhale, you plaster on a smile of your own. “I’m good. Thank you.”

She nods and makes her way toward the door, wrapping slender fingers around the brushed nickel knob. “Jake said to let you know he’ll be back late. So you have some time to get acquainted with the place.” 

She twists the knob and steps through the open frame. When the door has nearly eclipsed the remainder of her body, she pauses and her eyes meet yours. “I hope you'll like it here. It’ll be nice to have another woman around to dilute the testosterone,” she says. Then she’s gone. 

Standing in the apartment alone, you feel like an intruder. Though Natasha told you to get acquainted, you can't imagine going on the hunt for your bedroom, or unpacking your clothes, or reclining on the couch with a snack from the refrigerator. Something in you says it's better to stand in the same spot until your roommate returns to lead you about the place himself. If only you knew when that would be.

—

The only thing clueing you in that, at some point, you’d fallen asleep in the armchair by the bookshelf is the key-in-lock sound now stirring you awake. You jolt up out of the chair to find the sun had set so long ago that not a sliver of orange on the horizon remains. How many hours had been wasted making up for lost sleep when you should’ve been rehearsing how to respond to all possible reactions your roommate might have upon seeing you?

It doesn’t matter. You’re out of time now. 

You’ve barely readjusted your shirt to hide the exposed line of your bra by the time the door opens. But the man who walks through is far from what you imagined, and you had imagined plenty. 

You wait for a second, breath trapped in lungs. But then you realize he has yet to notice you, so with curious eyes, you use his unaware moment to truly notice him. 

He’s tall, broad, with short sandy blond hair and a jawline you’ve not seen on any man outside of a TV screen or glossy magazine page. Sharp like etched marble. His stubble is a day's worth, and while you suspect it’s not a representation of his usual appearance, you can’t say it doesn’t suit him well. 

Through pink parted lips you hear the exhale of his sigh, and suddenly see from the slump of his shoulders as he removes his jacket to hang on a nearby hook that he’s as tired as you are. Likely for very different reasons, but tired all the same. An affliction of sorts you understand too well.

When he runs a hand down his face, as if to wipe off the exhaustion like a wet rag removing dirt from skin, you get your first full image of him. Before it was just his profile. That was enough to tell you plenty, but straight on he’s…more. From the hallway light, you catch a glimpse of the green hue of his eyes. You notice the tanness of his arms–not natural, but from spending too much time in the sun–and the veins that trail along them like rivers in the earth. 

You’re suddenly not so sure what you’ve gotten yourself into. Men like him you’ve dealt with before, and it doesn’t often do you well. However, you promised yourself that with each town, you’ll pretend your past pain doesn’t exist so you may approach the new people and places without preconceived opinions. It’s a struggle of a promise to keep, but you do your best. And having just arrived, it would be silly not to try to do your best here as well. 

Those green eyes finally find yours and he stops short, almost stumbling as if he forgot to expect you. But he recovers quickly, standing straight and sturdy to confirm his height. His slightly slackened jaw coupled with the stare he gives you, however, doesn’t quite manage the same impressive recovery rate. His face can’t hide his surprise. 

A throat-clearing is followed by, “You’re my new roommate?”

You can’t tell if there’s judgment in his tone. Disappointment, maybe? He’s still staring. 

“Yes,” you say calmly, giving him a chance to not be the prick you suspect he might be. Don’t break your promise, you internally scold.

His gaze lingers on each feature of your face. Eyes pause at your lips before traveling lower; much lower until he reaches your toes then makes his way back up to where he started. 

A beat passes. He swallows hard. Then that deep voice, having turned a bit husky, mutters a soft, “Fuck.”

---

A/N: again, this is a new series. So part 2 soon. I hope you liked it :)

tags: @wkndwlff @kmc1989 @sagittarius-flowerchild @dempy @oliviah-25 @rosiahills22 @xoxabs88xox @matisse556 @hardballoonlove @ssa-sadboi @lynnevanss @pono-pura-vida @tgmreader @amgluvsbooks @ravenhood2792 @djs8891 @shakespeareanwannabe @sailor-aviator @elite4cekalyma @buckysteveloki-me @tgmavericklover @shelbycillian @kissmethric3 @penguin876

[hauntedwitch04]

Thank you

Regulus Black x reader

Words: about 0.7k words

Warnings: smut, and some fuff

Author’s note: Hi loves! I finally managed to write some more after the crazy week I had. Hope you like it, your witch Becky

p,s not really proud of this one, I just know it's not my best work but I kinda have caught a cold right now and now I have a terrible headache

Requests are open I Ask

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KINKTOBER ...........-..........KINKTOBER TAGLIST 2023

DAY 9: Somnophilia

"Praise Merlin, how can he be so cool even when he's sleeping?" You ask yourself, rightly, as you watch your sleeping boyfriend, drooling on his pillow. Although the scene in front of you isn't that sexy, you can't help but feel your panties getting wet from wanting to feel Reggy inside you.

You have already taken off your heels and have few layers left on, only the dress you had on to go out with the girls this evening to the pub, and underwear. You weren't very sure about going out this evening, but Regulus insisted that you wouldn't be scared off by the occasion and to enjoy an evening with your friends. Just that gesture alone was actually enough to make you fall on your knees before him, and give him the most beautiful orgasm he had ever experienced just with the use of your lips and tongue, but you promised yourself to thank him after the evening, or you would ruin the trick.

Now, as soon as you got home, after your friends had helped you after the larger-than-usual amount of alcohol they had made you drink, to relax you after the intense weeks you had been through, you want nothing more than to feel Regulus' body on yours, or rather inside you.

You also take off the last remaining clothes on you and slip under the covers. Before lowering yourself to his waist level, you give him a light kiss on the forehead, but immediately regret your action, for fear of waking him up.

Slowly you lower yourself down to the height of what you have been longing for for hours now, while with your mouth you leave a trail of hot kisses all along his body. Gently you slip off his boxers, the only garment Reggy usually sleeps in. Immediately in front of you appears the object of your desire. You never really got used to Regulus' dick. You had been with other guys before him, but none could match him in size or thickness.

Once you have her member in front of you, you begin to stroke it gently, soon getting it hard. You leave a few kisses on the tip, then take it between your lips and bob your head up and down. Your boyfriend has no reaction at first, only after a few minutes do you hear him moan faintly, so you look up and see that he is still immersed in dreamland, however. You continue pleasuring him, adding not only the movement with your mouth but also that of your tongue, even helping yourself with your hand, since you couldn't get it all in your mouth.

You feel him waking up when you now know he is about to orgasm. You feel him rest his hand on your head, so you look up one more time and see his still sleepy blue eyes looking at you confused, but full of passion.

"Love what are you doing?" Regulus asks you between moans, without stopping though. You do not answer until you feel him explode inside your mouth and send down all his seed, which he had released. Once your mouth was clear again, you answer him, while still staring into his eyes.

"I wanted to thank you for convincing me to go out with my friends, we had a really good time." You say giggling, before adjusting your boxers where they were before and throwing yourself into his arms.

"You didn't have to do that love, I only did it because I wanted you to have a good evening with them." He comments, as he pulls you into his arms, even tighter, and kisses you on the forehead.

"But I wanted to." You retort, already with your voice a bit slurred by alcohol and sleep, you can't help but slowly fall asleep.

"Good night baby." He whispers in your ear, watching you slowly fall into the arms of Morpheus.

"'Night Reggy." You answer before you go completely unconscious.

"Prepare to be awakened with a surprise tomorrow morning." He whispers in your ear, before also falling asleep, with a smile on his lips, squeezing your waist even tighter.

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[maple-the-awesome]

He Becomes a Dad! || Part 1/2

PART 2

Pairing: Time, Four, Legend, Hyrule x Reader

Overview: Congratulations, you're new parents 🎉 Some of the Links are prepared. Others...might need a moment to gather themselves. But rest assured! At the end of the day, they're all going to get a handle on this whole dad thing. I'm a sucker for family tropes and there simply aren't enough out there for the Chain to quench my thirst, so here it is, I'm adding my contribution👍 Btw, there will be only two parts for this prompt since Wind will be excluded for obvious reasons. Baby making isn't a platonic activity🤷‍♀️

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You only brought the topic of children up to your husband once. It was at some point during the early half of your marriage and after a particularly lengthy day of enduring Malon’s well-meant pestering. Time, beside being caught slightly off guard, delivered a straightforward answer:

“It wouldn’t feel right bringing kids into this world, especially when I would hardly be home to help you rear them.”

Now, you can’t lie and say you weren’t at all disappointed by this answer, although you wouldn’t say you had the rug completely pulled from beneath you. You understood the true implications behind Time’s statement right away. It’s the same reason he took so long to let himself marry you. It’s not you nor a disgust towards children, but rather an unspoken fear of building a life where he’s too happy - one that could be ripped away from him at a moment’s notice as has seemed to be the case for his younger years.

Although his worries are needless, you never pushed against his boundaries because you could at least see the sense in his argument. Sure, the idea of having children did always appeal to you deep down, however between Time’s constant traveling and your hard work helping at Lon Lon Ranch, it would be difficult to squeeze a family into the schedule. There was no sense in forcing him into a commitment he wasn’t ready for nor one you weren’t in a  position to properly foster.

Twelve years of blissful marriage passed before your plans changed. The blame lies with those other heroes, too. One would think traveling alongside a group of unruly young boys would’ve made someone more certain of their decision to never again subject themselves to such a headache, yet it apparently had the opposite effect on your dear husband.

Discovering first hand how much pride he could feel towards a descendant was life-altering, to put it light. Twilight was living proof that somewhere along the line, Time does something right. Whatever kids he might have will grow up to have children of their own and so on…Not to mention Twilight isn’t a terrible outcome by any means. To raise someone with the possibility of them turning out like him and to do so with you of all people? Well, needless to say, it was settled rather quickly after that: Time wanted kids.

Call it baby-fever if you will, but he was suddenly rather eager about the concept he had once avoided like the plague. He brought it up through not-so-subtly hints at first, then when you outright asked him if he was being serious, he went on a slightly nervous spew about your home being too quiet and how he could officially retire from traveling to be home more and it’s really a shame that you have an extra bedroom just sitting around - You just had to kiss him to shut him up which eventually led to…other things. Let’s just say you both got started right away.

It took you twelve years to realize you did indeed want kids yet less than a year to actually be holding them for the first time. It turns out even the universe was impatiently waiting for you both to come to your senses, so once you finally had, it decided to award you with not one, but two beautiful girls whom you affectionately named Saria after Time’s old friend and Mallory, a mix between melody and Malon, their ever-so-excited godmother.  

It’s safe to say that the twins are pretty spoiled. Malon has been over almost everyday, bringing you plenty of baked goods as a bribe to let her spend more time with her favorite goddaughters and you have practically every baby related item that you could need, courtesy of the Queen of Hyrule herself, but of course, it’s their parents who love them the most.

Never in his wildest dreams did Time think it would be possible to feel so at peace with the life he’s built. For so many years, he feared true happiness was impossible - that every turn would result in the same cruel fate he had been subjected to during most of his existence - and yet for the last couple of nights, he’s held it in his arms. He’s watched the moon rise outside his window while playing soft lullabies on his ocarina, you cuddled by his side with your daughters shared between you both. You wear a small smile even in sleep and he swears the girls match it, too; he definitely does himself…This is a priceless treasure he’ll give his life to protect.

Four and you had already been married for a few years by the time you found out you’re pregnant. It’s not to say you were actively planning for it, although you also weren’t actively trying not to either. 

It had been agreed upon early in your relationship that kids would be nice should they come your way, therefore you were both equally excited that your wishes were finally being granted, so much so that the nursery was finished within the first month (courtesy of your handy husband). It’s painted in beautiful pastels that are easy on the eyes and decorated with many toys Four had hand-carved himself; a useful craft he’s now very appreciative towards Sky for teaching him.

Seeing as this was already a somewhat anticipated next step in your lives, Four’s pretty relaxed throughout the process despite its many challenges. For starters, pregnancy itself unfortunately isn't as much of a 'blessing' for you as some have made it sound. You’re rather sick from beginning to end. If it isn't your inability to keep food down (especially in the early stages) or your fluctuating blood pressure, then it’s the aching you constantly feel thanks to both your very heavy bump and extremely active baby who just loves to make sure you never forgot about their existence by kicking you as hard as possible day and night. 

Worry not. Four has made your struggles more bearable by being a darling husband through and through. He’s by your side during each doctor’s visit, does his own personal research on all things baby-related, and helps with every chore he can to give you at least some rest even if just for a quick nap, however most spectacularly, he does all of this without ever being too overbearing. 

Although certainly concerned for your health, Four can recognize your strength any day of the week, especially when you've been rolling with the punches like a warrior queen during such a draining pregnancy. Anxious, sure, but not afraid. Why would he be? He’s confident that you’re both prepared to face anything together! …That is, until you actually went into labor…

Yeah, remember that previously mentioned, relaxed and darling husband? Forget about him. Your water broke and so did Four's calm demeanor, but can he really be blamed? You went into labor early - and not just by a couple of days either. Oh no, we're talking a couple of weeks early. 

Regardless of his newfound fear, Four does his utmost best to still present himself as calm and collected in front of you, not wanting to freak you out any more than you’re already freaking out yourself. He first helped you lay down with plenty of pillows and cushions before running to get help. After that, he doesn’t leave your side, encouraging you throughout the process with a smile on his face, however don’t be fooled: the second you turn your head to the midwife’s voice or close your eyes to scream, your poor husband’s face reflects his inner thoughts as the situation fully begins to sink in. 'Scared shitless' - that's a good word to describe it; eyes wide in terror with a mouth that’s hung agape and slightly twisted in pain as your nails clawed into his hand.

As said, he never leaves your side - not even for a millisecond. You don’t have to worry about him being the type of guy to get grossed out by natural fluids or complain about your expressions of pain; none of that is remotely a concern of his. He’s just grateful to see you okay and even more so to hear his baby crying as they should.

A girl; small like her daddy, but healthy all things considered. Four couldn't wait to hold her, knowing damn well he was going to cry the second her soft skin touched his, but he isn’t ashamed of it in the slightest. Who wouldn’t cry holding something so precious?

Then you scream again. He thinks something must be wrong until the midwife announces that it isn’t over - that there are more squeezed in there waiting.

At the end of the day, you're just relieved to finally breathe easy without going through agonizing pain while Four, on the other hand, is left in shock staring at not one, not two, but three little babies, all healthy girls who wiggle and whimper in their parents' arms, but oh well. The nursery may have to be expanded, although there's plenty of love to go around. At least he can thank Hylia that it wasn’t quads (he's had enough of those).

Legend and you have been in a relationship for several years, although you had mutually agreed earlier on that neither of you were big fans of the whole 'marriage' thing. What difference would a ceremony and piece of paper make, anyway? You already act as any officially married couple would. You live together, go on dates, occasionally argue, and even share a bed which is exactly what resulted in a recent, unplanned detour in your lives: a baby.

When you first told Legend the news, he panicked, asking himself all those stupid questions like ‘what now’ and ‘how could this have happened’ even though he knew damn well how. Then he left. Giving some half-assed excuse about needing fresh air, he turned his back to you despite your pleas and didn’t return for hours. 

Now, rest assured, he did immediately regret having that reaction and apologized for it as soon as he came home. He didn’t mean to scare you with the thought of abandonment, but as he would quietly confess during his apology, the thought of being a parent had just been too overwhelming in the moment. Neither of you had ever talked about having kids, and while he could at least have some peace of mind knowing you’ll obviously be a great mom, he fears that the same won’t be applied to him.

You have always been the light in a dim room, as Legend would put it. You’re fun, sweet, and amazing with kids. Any child of yours, planned or not, will love you with all of their heart exactly as he does. Meanwhile he’s stubborn, cranky, and the last kid to cross his path literally started sobbing. Maybe it had to do with him being covered in monster blood after just having crawled out of a dungeon but he’s pretty sure he traumatized a kid nonetheless…The thought of being just as bad around any kid you share together scares the crap out of him.

Deep, deep down, Legend’s actually somewhat excited to be a father. Although he’s too stubborn to admit it to anyone other than you, he’ll sometimes daydream about how nice it would be to tell a little replica of you both about all his adventures or to teach them how to use some of the items he’s collected over the years like his trusty boomerang. Seeing the excitement in their eyes would definitely be worth listening to you scold him afterwards. If that’s all there was to being a father, Legend wouldn’t have a single concern, yet it’s his insecurities that always have a habit of souring things. Would his kid actually find his stories cool or would they just be tempted to throw the boomerang right at his head?

You’ve done your best to reassure him, often falling back on the argument that the baby will be a part of him. Like father, like son, right? Legend was almost ready to believe you, too, especially upon laying eyes on his child for the first time. As you passed the tiny bundle over to him, he thought that maybe being a dad wasn’t going to be that scary after all, and it might not be so bad to even have more someday either…However, his worries were quick to return when the baby started screaming two seconds after being set into his arms…

Baby screams if he holds him. Baby whimpers if he looks at him for too long. Sometimes, Legend swears the thing starts crying simply by hearing his voice in another room. It doesn’t happen with anyone else, though. The baby just adores you as predicted, but what Legend can’t stand is the fact that the baby seems to like Ravio, of all annoyances, over his own dad.

He’s forced to watch as the little brat happily lets Ravio cradle him, the sight filling him with bitter jealousy and sorrow. You’re convinced that he’s just overthinking everything - that he should give himself time to adjust to his new position as a father instead of holding himself to unrealistic standards, but how long is he exactly supposed to wait until it clicks? It’s been a whole month already and he still feels as confused as day one! Will he ever get the hang of this whole dad-thing or is he a lost cause…?

If there’s any comfort Legend can have, it’s that even Ravio doesn’t know what to do with the baby once he starts crying, so at least he’s not alone in that aspect. The only problem is you’re busy making lunch and stubbornly refuse to pause your efforts. Instead, you shove a bottle over to Legend, insisting that he be the one to feed his son since it should be a ‘good bonding exercise’ for them. You won’t take ‘no’ for an answer and judging on your glare when he tries to protest, you probably wouldn’t be happy if he tries passing the task onto Ravio either.

Thus, Legend is left to awkwardly sit down and take the baby into his arms. He already knows it’s obvious he has no idea what he’s doing, Ravio doesn’t have to point it out, but luckily after some swift around, he manages to hold his son more securely against his chest before shoving the bottle in his face. The baby continues to fuss while turning his head away from the bottle, and Legend’s almost tempted to call for you in defeat until at last, the room falls silent.

Looking down, he watches in quiet awe as his son accepts his meal eagerly. His little hands quickly rise up, gripping onto Legend’s which holds the bottle in place. They’re so tiny; barely able to wrap around a single finger - Oh, and his eyes as well! They’re wide as he stares up at his dad with unbroken eye contact. It’s like a wordless conversation - one more valuable than any he’s heard before.

You return, offering to take your son now that your work is done, but Legend is quick to shake his head. Why don’t you take a well-deserved break while he handles this little troublemaker? It would be a shame to bother him when he looks so comfortable in daddy’s arms.

You've been dating Hyrule for longer than either of you can really remember, however you aren’t in any big rush to get married, figuring that it would make no real difference in your commitment to each other. You love Hyrule and he loves you. What more is there to say? For a while there, you were both perfectly satisfied with simply taking things slow and letting fate decide your course, although more recently you’ve had to switch up that method to something more stable for the baby. Yes, a baby.

You wouldn’t necessarily call it a surprise, but you also can’t truthfully say it was planned either. You had agreed that kids might be nice if the goddesses ever blessed you with any in the future, however you weren’t exactly trying for them…You just weren’t being very careful…

Hyrule must admit he was rather nervous at the start. The only prior experience he really had around kids was with Wind, but there’s a pretty big difference between a young teen and newborn. Pair that with his not so ‘kid-friendly’ world and there’s plenty to worry over. Anything could happen, but Hyrule’s determined to be the best dad and partner he can.

First thing was first, of course: you needed a place to stay. Traveling is fun and you both enjoy being on the move, but that’s no life for a baby. Hyrule and you had actually already considered the idea of settling down someplace before, so you didn’t think of it as a massive loss to take off your adventure boots for a while. If anything, it was a welcomed change once you remembered how lovely it is to be able to kick your feet up for a rest or be surrounded by warmth during a terrible rainstorm.

Again, Hyrule takes his job as your partner very seriously which wasn’t ever a surprise to you. He found a small house for you both to rent in one of the safer villages around; a perfect place for raising a child. While he might not have a talent for decorating or making a place feel ‘homey’, he does thrive when it comes to making sure you’re comfortable, his spare rupees definitely going to fluffy wool blankets and a rickety rocking chair that he saw at a market.

Early on in the pregnancy, you noticed that your boyfriend also began showing a new found determination for cooking which did scare you a bit at first - Okay, so maybe a lot. Hyrule began taking cooking lessons from some kind elderly ladies in town who must have an endless pool of patience because while you can’t say every dish is a masterpiece (or even editable for that matter), you are happy to say Hyrule can now make things like toast and tomato soup successfully. It’s progress.

There aren’t a ton of doctors in your time and none in your village, so you have to take a lot of notes from local women regarding the process. Hearing all their stories and the possible ‘what if’s for what could go wrong made you anxious, especially once you finally go into labor, but it doesn’t faze Hyrule - not on the outside, anyway. He does an excellent job of swallowing his own fears for your peace of mind, talking you through each painful contraction and doing his best to distract you from it all until it comes time to start pushing.

Some people may get squeamish at the thought of childbirth, however Hyrule isn’t one of them. He’s fought through some terrifying dungeons and has bore witness to more than a few gory injuries over the years, so bodily fluids don’t bother him one bit. He’s kneeled down right in front of you without a second’s hesitation, multitasking between mentally reviewing what he’s been told to do and reassuring you even though he’s sure you don’t hear a word of it over your own screams.

One minute Hyrule’s encouraging you to keep pushing, the next he’s holding a small, crying baby in his arms. His movements after that feel almost automatic as he carefully cleans her off and just admires the fact that this baby - this tiny, precious gift of life is his. She’s yours and his and she’s beautiful despite having come into existence within such a broken world filled with more hardships than he could count…

Your tired voice brings him back to reality - asking if the baby you hear crying is okay. You clearly feel the same thing Hyrule does upon seeing your daughter for the first time, the two of you sitting side-by-side as you soak in this wonderful emotion. Hope...That’s what she represents. Hope for a brighter future...

[dreamwritesimagines]

Garden of Secrets [41] - Daylily

A.N: The last 2 chapters! ❤️Thank you so much for your wonderful feedback and support my loves, it made my whole week, you’re amazing!❤️ I hope you’ll like this chapter as well, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think❤️

Summary: Healing comes with patience.

Warnings: Regency era society and social rules, some gender specific language and terms, mentions of sex, mentions of threats.

Word Count: 2500

Series Masterlist

You had never been the type for surprises but you had to admit, you were quite looking forward to this one.

“If I fall down—”

“You won’t fall down.”

“I might!” you said with a giggle, extending your arms in front of you while Benedict kept his palm over your eyes, guiding you to the room. “And the next thing you know…”

“Y/N.”

“The next thing you know, I’m dead—”

“Don’t joke about that.”

“And you’re like uh, a widow artist.”

“A widow artist?!”

“Is this what you’ve been planning all along?” you teased him, making him huff out a small chuckle.

“I think you will change that theory pretty soon.”

“You don’t know that,” you sang. “Ben, I’m pretty sure your studio wasn’t this big for me to walk this much.”

“I changed the place of the canvas because it has better light over there—actually wait, I’ll change it again,” he said. “Keep your eyes closed.”

You squeezed your eyes shut when he lowered his hand, and heard him shuffle the easel around the room while you waited patiently. He soon came closer to you to get behind you, sneaking his arms around your waist to hold you close to his chest as always.

“Ready?”

“Very much so,” you said with a smile. “Can I open my eyes now?”

He heaved a shaky sigh, then cleared his throat. “Yeah.”

You opened your eyes and as soon as you did, your breath got caught in your throat.

Oh.

This was what Benedict had been working on for months; your portrait.

You couldn’t take your eyes off of the portrait and you took a step closer to it almost in a haze. It looked almost surreal, both familiar and unfamiliar because you were certain that you didn’t look as—

Mesmerizing.

Now you could understand what Benedict had said about getting the look in your eyes right, you looked nearly alive on the canvas. You already knew Benedict was talented, of course you did, but even you couldn’t imagine this. It didn’t look like it belonged to here or this century for that matter, it looked like one of those paintings that you would see in a museum from a century ago, something that would be looked upon with wonder and admiration for years and years.

“Benedict…” you whispered and he rested his chin on top of your head.

“Mm?”

“How did you—when did you—?” you stammered. “How?”

He chuckled. “I taught you how, remember?”

“No but this is something else completely,” you said. “You weren’t jesting about being inspired.”

“Oh I certainly wasn’t.”

“You’re so talented,” you murmured and he smiled against your neck before kissing the spot beneath your ear, making your heart skip a beat. You bit down on your lip, still staring at the portrait.

“So I thought of something but I want to get your opinion first,” he muttered and you turned around in his arms so that you could look up at him.

“What is it?”

A look of hesitation crossed his handsome features and he cleared his throat, stealing a glance at the portrait before turning to you.

“I know I kept saying I wasn’t ready to apply to the Academy,” he said. “And they normally open up the applications for next year at the beginning of the next season, but you can in fact send your work for the next year before they finish this year’s classes and such and it’s finishing next week and I was thinking…Maybe I could send this one and apply.”

Your eyes widened. “What?”

“The wiser decision would be to improve myself until the next season starts,” he added in a haste. “But I don’t know, it—it feels right, you know?”

A bright smile warmed your face and he let out a breath.

“Is it a terrible idea?”

“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

“Do you think—do you think I could get in?”

“Ben, you’re the only person who doubts that,” you reminded him. “I’m completely sure that you will get in.”

“Really?”

“Really,” you nodded, stepping into his embrace. “I believe in you, always.”

He smiled softly and leaned in to kiss you, then rested his forehead against yours, his long fingers running over your back.

“You’re going to do amazing,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck and standing on your tiptoes to peck him on the lips again. “You’ll see.”

He heaved a pleasant sigh. “I love you, you know that right?”

“Oh I know,” you said, grinning up at him. “I still like hearing it though. Quite often I might add.”

                                       *

Lottie and Anthony’s wedding was tomorrow and you were going to go to her house to see whether she needed anything, but before that, you and Josie had a visit you two had been delaying for quite some time now.

“Do they know?”

“I sent them a letter to tell them I have the letter,” Josie said as you followed her into the inn, and raised your brows at the sight of the run-down place. Josie approached the innkeeper to ask him something and he answered, so she looked over her shoulder and nodded at you.

“Upstairs, come on.”

You followed her suit, climbing up the stairs until she stopped in front of a door, then threw her shoulders back and opened the door.

“Hello father,” she said and you leaned sideways to the door, taking a look inside. The room was small and very messy, not very different from their bedchambers back at home. A shiver ran down your spine and you cleared your throat, crossing your arms.

“Came to gloat?” your mother spat and you shrugged your shoulders.

“Not really.”

“Well aren’t you two brave?” your father growled while your mother kept pushing the clothes into the chest. “Coming here like this.”

“What’s there to be scared of?” Josie asked. “You?”

Your father took a step towards her but stopped when you pulled out your knife from your cleavage.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” you said in a sweet tone, flipping the knife open. “This inn doesn’t appear to be safe for everyone after all.”

Josie repressed a smile as your mother shook her head.

“Don’t you have any shame?” she spat. “Threatening your father like that?”

“No I’m alright,” you said and turned to Josie. “Are you alright Jo?”

“Absolutely.”

“Why are you here?” your father asked while you turned the knife in your hand, and Josie heaved a sigh.

“Well first of all I wanted to make sure you were leaving,” she said. “And to remind you what might happen if you accidentally happen to be here the same time as us in the future.”

“And what exactly will happen?” he asked and you clicked your tongue.

“Your nose doesn’t appear to have healed,” you pointed out. “I’d hate to have to see it broken again.”

“You’d love it.”

“Yeah I would actually,” you pointed out and Josie nodded.

“So that’s the deal,” she said. “You stay away from us and we will stay away from you from now on. As far as I’m concerned, you’re dead.”

“Teddy deserves—”

“Teddy deserves better than you,” you said. “And I’ll make sure he gets it.”

“He’s my son!”

“By blood only and blood means nothing,” Josie said. “You made sure I understood that, remember?”

Your father eyed the knife in your hand before narrowing his eyes.

“And who’s going to stop me if I want to see my son again?” he asked. “You two?”

“Oh I don’t think I’d be bothered with you to be honest,” you mused. “Not when I can simply send people to deal with you. At night.”

“We didn’t go to your house ourselves to get the letter after all,” Josie reminded them and your mother gritted her teeth.

“I’m ashamed to call you my daughters.”

“Don’t call us your daughters then,” Josie retorted. “God knows I do not see you as my mother. If you ever show your face here again—”

“Oh so you came here to threaten us,” your father interrupted her and you scoffed.

“No, we came here to tell you what’s going to happen if you dare threaten me or Josie, or Teddy,” you growled. “And I can assure you father, though I may not deal with you myself, I will personally make sure that you suffer if you ever cross me or my wishes ever again.”

Josie tilted her head, grinning wide.

“Well I don’t need to add anything to that I suppose,” she said with a sigh. “Have a nice trip back home, I hope we never see each other again.”

“I didn’t say we’re finished—”

“We are finished,” you cut him off. “For good.”

Josie grabbed your hand as you both walked away from them, the sound of a vase smashing to pieces on the wall reaching you while you went down the stairs, and it was only when you two stepped out that you let out a breath, feeling like a weight was lifted off your shoulders.

“Are you feeling alright?” Josie asked and you felt yourself smile.

“Yeah,” you said, flipping the knife close and putting it back in your cleavage. “Are you?”

“Better than how I’ve felt in a long time,” she said. “Nice touch with the knife.”

“Learned it from you,” you said and Josie let out a laugh, then threw an arm over your shoulder to pull you close before you both started walking to the carriage waiting for you across the street.

                                             *

Anthony and Lottie’s wedding breakfast was more fun than you had imagined it would be. It was always lovely to see Lottie being her usual cheerful self, but today, both in the chapel and in the Bridgerton house she looked like she was on cloud nine which made you very happy as well. Every guest in the house was dying to talk to her or Anthony, but you made sure to keep an eye on her and get her out of the crowd when it looked like too many questions were thrown at her.

Like now.

“Excuse me ladies—Lottie?” you said, reaching out to touch her arm. “May I borrow you for a moment?”

“Of course!” she said and let you lead you away from them, then linked her arm with yours. “God, thank you! They’re already asking me what my first ball will be like as a Viscountess, can you believe that?”

“Unfortunately I can,” you said as you both passed the foyer to step outside. She heaved a deep sigh and turned to you, still holding your hand.

“This is not a dream, is it?” she asked. “I mean I married the love of my life, and I fear I might wake up anytime.”

You let out a laugh and shook your head.

“It’s not a dream Lottie.”

She tilted her head back and smiled, enjoying the sunlight falling on her face for a moment before turning back to you.

“And I could barely talk to Tony,” she said. “You think—I mean…do you think he’s as happy as I am?”

“I had the chance to talk to him about an hour ago, while you were upstairs with your mama,” you said. “I can assure you, he’s as happy as you are, perhaps even happier.”

“Not possible,” she giggled and pressed a hand over her chest, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “How about you? Are you having fun?”

“Lottie my dearest, will you please stop worrying about everyone else?” you asked with a smile and she shook her head.

“I’m trying?” she said as if apologizing and you squeezed her hand.

“It was a wonderful ceremony,” you said. “And it’s a beautiful breakfast. Everyone is delighted to be here, just…not as much as you and Anthony will be tonight.”

She repressed a laugh. “Shh!”

“So how was the wedding night talk?” you asked. “With your mama?”

A mischievous look flashed over her face. “She didn’t tell me anything I don’t know already.”

“Scandal,” you deadpanned and grinned. “So you’re leaving for Aubrey Hall after breakfast?”

“In the afternoon yes,” she said. “And um—we’ll be there until everyone comes to Kent next week—you will visit, will you not?”

“I feel like you won’t want visitors for a while.”

“Y/N!”

“I’m just saying,” you teased. “What, can I not ask questions now that you’re a Viscountess?”

She fixed her beautiful wedding gown, then threw her shoulders back, adapting an expression of exaggerated seriousness.

“I shall have to think about it,” she joked, then burst into a laughter. “No I’m serious! Benny’s house—well, your house now— is not very far from Aubrey Hall, so you must come to visit every day.”

“Well—” you started but before you could say anything, you heard Lottie’s mother calling out her name, making you both turn to look at the house. She waved at you from the door, motioning for Lottie to come and she shot you an apologetic look.

“Duty calls,” she said and kissed you on the cheek, then walked back to the house. You looked around the garden, smiling to yourself before making your way back to the house as well. You walked through the foyer but before you could reach the stairs, someone grabbed you by the wrist.

“What—Ben!” you hissed, trying to keep a straight face even if the urge to smile as soon as you saw him was stronger. “There are people here!”

“And they’re all very much focused on the newlywed couple,” he said, pulling you into the nearest room and you leaned back to the door as he closed it. “Hello my beautiful wife.”

“Hello to you too, my handsome husband,” you smiled up at him, wrapping your arms around his neck as he leaned down to kiss you. “I thought you had best man duties.”

“Mother and Lady Danbury are giving Anthony a huge speech about marriage and responsibilities,” he said. “I have to say, it’s quite entertaining when he’s the one who’s on the receiving end of a speech.”

“I can imagine,” you grinned. “So I saw you talking to Henry. Was he very happy that you will apply?”

“I haven’t told him yet,” he admitted. “I haven’t told anyone but you.”

You frowned slightly. “Why not?”

“I mean Henry and Gordon will probably hear about it because they’re friends with the director of the Academy and many people there,” he said. “But…I don’t know, it just feels like it’s something I should do, you know?”

You hummed, then nodded your head.

“I understand that,” you said. “Well then, I suppose we will have to celebrate by ourselves when you do apply, just you and me. Others can wait.”

He gave you that lopsided grin and cupped your cheek, running his thumb over your cheekbone.

“I like the sound of that,” he murmured, then leaned in to kiss you again, his other hand leaving your waist for a moment before you heard the lock sliding into place, making you pull back.

“This is your brother’s wedding breakfast!” you exclaimed with a giggle and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Exactly,” he said and leaned down to pick you up, making you let out a squeal that turned into a laugh as he made his way to the sofa with you in his arms. “We have a lot to celebrate darling.”

Chapter 42

[chrissv4mp]

you're like in love with me!

summary: sabrina, the popular girl of your school, thinks you're obsessed with her. you're everywhere she looks and always staring at her with.. those eyes. when you both get invited to a party, sabrina decides to confront you.

pairing: senior!sabrina carpenter × senior!fem!reader

warnings: smut, fingering (r recieving), maybe a little degradation if u squint..., overstimulation also if u squint! , sub!reader, dom!sabrina, vulgar language, etc.

navigation...

a/n: if you wanna be on sabrina's taglist or any other taglist, go comment on the person's masterlist in my navigation!

____________________________

sabrina could already feel your eyes on her, even through the crowded space of the cafeteria.

you could never leave her alone, could you? you were always just... there! like an annoying little fly.

the blonde didn't care that much at first, she thought it was just adoration for her, but now it was starting to feel like stalking.

"sab," chloe spoke up, her attention set on you, "that girl is staring at you again. this is like the 7th time today."

"i know! isn't it creepy? it's like she's in love with me and it's honestly starting to freak me out." sabrina sighed, resting her chin on the palm of her hand.

jen nodded in agreement, "yeah, she's definitely in love with you. hey, wasn't there a love letter in your locker yesterday?"

chloe laughed, "that was isaac, his handwriting and grammar is terrible. he tries too hard, and plus that girl is like super smart."

sabrina turned her head, spotting you in an instant. you were sitting at a table alone, an open notebook laying in front of you.

she hummed in amusement, raising an eyebrow, "she's smart, yeah?"

jen sighed, facepalming, "sab, don't break her like you do with all the others, please. she seems like a sweet girl that's actually willing to put some effort into a relationship."

chloe hummed in agreement, "seriously, just maybe get to know her?"

sabrina's eyes widened, eyebrows furrowing in confusion, "what? who said i was gonna go out with her? for all i know she could be, like, mental."

"and i've only dated like three girls before. i don't know if i'm into women,"

chloe and jen shared a look before laughing in the blondes face. jen smiled, "oh, sab, don't act like you weren't eye-fucking that girl at james' party last week."

sabrina's face flushed in embarrassment, looking down at the table and suddenly finding such interests in the tiny holes.

"can't deny it, you are definitely a girl kisser." chloe added, laughing when sabrina looked up at her.

the blonde started to laugh, too, her lips upturning into a smile at the sound of jen's laugh.

what were they laughing about?

you couldn't help but stare at sabrina, she was so... gorgeous. the prettiest girl you've seen at the school.

she was smart, too, that's why you liked her. liked. you couldn't call it love, because that wasn't what you were feeling.

was it?

you just wanted to be her friend. you just wanted to talk to her, get to know her and maybe even kiss her.

her lips were so full and red and they just looked so soft, her skin did, too. she was perfect and you couldn't get enough of her.

you wanted to see more of her, wanted to see her body. but that wasn't what friends did.

so, maybe it was love. you weren't even sure you could tell the difference between like and love anymore.

you weren't even sure if she liked or even loved you.

friday, and you were still staring at her! why were you staring at her?

"what the fuck is her problem, seriously?!" sabrina groaned, balling her hands into fists before slamming them on the table softly.

jen raised her eyebrows in shock, "don't get too crazy over her, sab. i'm sure she just wants to be you, every girl does."

"i found out her name. it's y/n, pretty, right?" chloe chimed in, smiling softly at sabrina.

the blonde didn't care anymore. she didn't want anything to do with you, she didn't even want to see you anymore.

why couldn't you go away? even for just a day, and she'd be happy. she'd be happy if you got out of her head.

even when she was at home, you found a way to get to her. fuck, she just wanted to bang her head against a wall to get rid of those thoughts of you.

those thoughts.

the weird thoughts that couldn't seem to escape her head. she couldn't seem to stop dreaming about them.

she couldn't stop dreaming about how your lips would feel on hers and how you would kiss. were you a good kisser?

the thought of your body on top of hers while your tongue explored her mouth. the way you would lick the marks that you made on her neck, soothing the ache.

"sabrina!" jen snapped in front of her friends face, moving her hand out of the blondes way as she snapped back to reality.

"huh?" she asked, completely out of it.

"hey," a boys voice caught her attention, and she turned her body to look at him.

tristan rogers was standing right in front of her, his hands tucked in his jean pockets as he stared down at her with his green eyes.

"sorry, didn't mean to interrupt you and your girls or anything," he laughed awkwardly, "just wanted say that i'm throwing a party tonight and i'd be super thrilled if you came."

he flashed sabrina a smile, and she swore tristans teeth glowed, "oh, yeah of course i'll come."

"thank you, tristan." she smiled, watching as the boy nodded.

"no problem. i mean, what's a party without sabrina carpenter?" he laughed before walking back to his friends.

the blonde just waved stupidly, and if anything, tristan should've been the one to do that.

she quickly put her hand down, knowing it wouldn't help the rumors of them dating. they were so stupid and not at all true, tristan was jen's crush sabrina would never break the friend code.

you caught the blonde's eye again, even when you were sitting halfway across the courtyard behind multiple people. she still spotted you.

"oh my gosh, sab!" chloe exclaimed, reaching over the table to take her hands, "you just got invited to a party by tristan-fucking-rogers."

sabrina smiled, looking over at chloe and then jen with a smug expression on her face, "no, we just got invited to a party by tristan rogers."

jen's lips parted in surprise, and her face flushed red immediately, "what?"

"you're going and i'm not gonna take no for an answer, babe." sabrina replied, and chloe laughed at the way the brunette's face turned red.

the girls' attention was soon taken by yourself, who was walking by both tristans friend group and sabrinas.

you glanced over at the blonde before bumping into tristan, who grabbed your shoulder gently.

"y/n, hi," he smiled, running a hand through his hair.

he let go of your shoulder, and you took a small step back, "hi, tristan?"

"my bad for bumping into you, i just figured i ask if you wanted to go come to my party tonight?"

you nodded, completely oblivious to the fact that your crush was going to be there.

"great! well, see you tonight, then." tristan exclaimed, waving before walking to his table again.

sabrina couldn't not listen to your conversation. i mean, you and tristan were right in front of her and were speaking loud. well, not loud, but she could still hear!

her lips upturned into a smirk as a thought came to mind. since both of you were invited to the same party, she could just slip away from her friends and go find you tonight. she just wanted to ask you some things.

that's all she wanted! nothing else.

there you were, staring at the blonde even from across the crowded backyard. she could never catch a break.

you were leaned against a brown shed, sipping from a red solo cup as you stared at sabrina.

how did you not notice her staring back? were you not embarrassed? or were you just zoned out? she couldn't even tell at this point.

before she could even do anything else, you moved, making your way through drunk teenagers and horny couples.

you passed by sabrina again, but this time you didn't even bat an eye toward her, you simply just nudged chloe's shoulder and went into the house.

"okay, that was rude," jen huffed, taking her last drink from the cup in her hand before throwing it somewhere in the yard.

"maybe she didn't see you, i'm sure she never would've done that if she did." sabrina muttered, patting chloe's shoulder.

the younger girl shrugged, "i won't hold it against her. this time."

jen laughed, and sabrina just smiled. why did she feel so alone now that you were gone? she hated your eyes on her, and besides, now that you were gone she would have to avoid her plan.

"wait, sab, y/n's gone. go after her girl! what about that plan you made?" chloe exclaimed.

shit. curse her inability to keep her mouth shut.

"okay," sabrina muttered, "i'll be, like, 2 minutes."

moving past her friends and inside the house, she looked around, her mind set on finding you.

you weren't downstairs, so the blonde made her way to the 2nd floor of the house and knocked on various doors, one of which she heard a couple fucking behind.

walking toward the end of the hallway, she finally spotted you, coming out of a bedroom.

she quickened her pace and made it to you just as you were about to leave, placing her hand on your chest and stopping you.

your face flushed as you stared at the blonde, confusion washing over you.

pushing you back softly, she walked toward you, making you move backwards and into the bedroom again.

she closed the door behind her and was quick to lock it before the both of you made it to the wall opposite of the entrance.

"do you have a problem with me?" the blonde broke the tense silence, her face close enough to yours that you could feel her breath on your lips.

you raised an eyebrow before replying, "no, not at all,"

she moved closer before speaking again, her hand now gripping the fabric of your shirt, "then what's with you staring at me all the time?"

"it's like you're in love with me or something," your breath hitched at the accusation, and sabrina smirked.

she was flush against your body at this point, "is that it?"

silence was all she received, your lips parted as you breathed unevenly. she had such a strong effect on you and yet this was the first time you two were alone.

sab scoffed, amusement clear on her face, "it is. you know you could've just told me, i might've even let you down softly and just said i wasn't into you,"

"but that wouldn't be the truth, and i always promise to be honest." she muttered, eyes going down to your lips.

you were speechless, and all that came out of your mouth was incoherent sentences.

"and, if you could be honest tonight then i might just tell you my true feelings, yeah?" sab smiled, "c'mon, just tell me how you feel."

her eyes couldn't decide where to stay, moving from your eyes to your lips every now and then.

seeing her this close, you now noticed how blue her eyes were. they were so pretty, just like every other aspect of the girl.

your eyes went down to her lips, they were so full and red. maybe she'd let you kiss them if you were honest.

"i like you.." you muttered, eyes going anywhere but hers.

sab raised an eyebrow, clearly finding this amusing as you practically crumbled beneath her gaze, "what was that? speak louder, please."

your face grew impossibly redder, embarrassment and arousal flooding your entire being, "i love you, sabrina."

she smirked, tilting her head to the side before running her thumb along your cheekbone. your height difference wasn't crazy, but you had some inches on her.

"there you go, y/n. wasn't that difficult, right?" the smaller girl cooed, her blue eyes becoming darker and glazed with lust.

you were so submissive toward her already and she hadn't even done anything, she was simply just speaking to you.

shaking your head, you couldn't help but whimper softly at the way she ran her thumb over your lower lip.

the blonde smiled, looking up into your eyes before kissing your lips. she wasn't rough with it, but then again she wasn't soft.

the kiss was passionate, and you instantly kissed her back, desperate to even be held by her. you wanted to be consumed by her, owned by the girl.

your tongue ran over her bottom lip and she didn't hesitate to grant you entrance, surprised at how good you were at kissing.

how good you were with your mouth. she wondered what it'd feel like in... other places.

your hands struggled finding a place to stay, so you just settled for sabrinas waist, pulling her even closer to you if that was physically possible.

pulling away, both of your eyes were on the string of saliva that still connected you both, and somehow it turned you on further.

sabrina hummed at the way you tried to chase her lips, failing to show any kind of composure anymore. your self-control had entirely dissipated when she pushed you against this wall.

her lips were on your neck in mere seconds, kissing and sucking softly on your skin until purple marks appeared. she was gonna make sure tristan or any other guy know that you were off limits.

"sab, oh my god," you gasped, breathless as you raked your fingers through her blonde hair.

she smirked against your neck, continuing to leave marks until she got to your collarbone. stepping away, she admired your disheveled state.

your lips were swollen, eyes blown out, shirt wrinkled and your neck... you were so beautiful like this.

"so pretty," sab muttered, grabbing your hand and leading you to the bed.

when you got to the edge, you turned around, trying to capture sabrinas lips in a kiss again, but she stopped you.

her hand was on your chest as she pushed you to sit down, a bigger smirk forming on her face at the fact that you just let her.

"so good for me."

you whined, growing impatient as the blonde removed your shirt and bra.

your jeans were next, and sabrina took her time, loving the little whimpers that came from your throat every now and then.

she was on her knees, now, slowly unzipping and undoing the button on your jeans before tugging them to your ankles along with your panties.

grabbing your thighs and spreading your legs, the blonde couldn't help but gasp at the sight of your pussy.

"you're soaking, y/n," she said, looking up at you, "so wet and i'm only just beginning to touch you."

she hummed, running her finger along your slit and eliciting a choked moan from you, "god, you're so sensitive, baby,"

instinctively, you closed your legs when sabrina pushed two fingers into your entrance, gasping when she dug her nails into your thigh.

your legs parted again, and your mouth hung open at the pleasure coursing through your body.

the room was almost silent, the sounds of squelching coming from your pussy and heavy breaths coming from both you and sabrina.

her eyes were fixated on your pussy, not being able to tear her eyes away from the sight of your entrance taking her fingers so perfectly.

"fuck." the blonde whispered.

her pace sped up as her thumb joined in on pleasuring you, rubbing tight circles along your clit and watching as you squirmed underneath her.

your hands went to her hair, but she quickly stopped them with her free hand, raising an eyebrow.

"don't want my hair ruined, the party's still going on, hon. put your hands down or i'll stop, mhm?" she hummed, and you quickly gripped the sheets.

your head fell back, eyes fluttering shut as the coil in your stomach tightened.

"don't stop, please, sab, please-- shit, i'm gonna cum, fuck, fuck!" your moans quickly turned to short and loud gasps as sabrina curled her fingers, bringing you to edge.

your cum coated her fingers, and with the pretty sounds you were making sabrina couldn't control herself anymore.

her fingers didn't stop after you came, they hadn't even slowed.

your pleas for her to keep going quickly turned to incoherent babbles as tears formed in your eyes.

sabrina muttered quiet praises, encouraging you to give her one more as she smirked up at you.

"c'mon, you can take it, hon. one more for me?" sab said, smile sweet as her movements became quicker.

your arousal was dripping down her palm now, and she almost moaned at the feeling.

sobs were coming from your mouth as you approached your second orgasm, your legs shaking slightly as your eyes rolled back.

"shit, oh my god,"

sabrina smiled, her ministrations slowing and coming to a stop when your hands went to push hers away.

her fingers easily slid out of you, and when she stood up, she popped them into her mouth.

she could've done this all might if it meant tasting you again, hearing you again.

"you did so good, y/n," she praised, kissing your forehead softly and earning a quiet hum from you.

tapping on the steering wheel, sabrina looked over you. your hair was still a mess and so was your shirt.

she couldn't help but smirk, knowing that she was the one who got you into that state.

"stay at my place tonight?" the blonde asked quietly, and your head turned at the sound of her voice.

you nodded without hesitation, thinking about the endless possibilities of what tonight could lead to. what else they could lead to.

"sure, i wanna get to know you better." you smiled, and sabrina laughed.

"fuck, i sure hope so or else me fucking you dumb was for nothing." you looked away, your face flushing red in embarrassment.

the car ride wasn't silent, it was filled with quiet chatter and the low hum of the radio playing.

you were in love with her, and even if you didn't know her that well, you could already tell.

. . .

sabrina taglist: @cindylcuwho @cindylcuwhoknows

[drewharrisonwriter]

Life Well Loved

Status: One Shot, Complete

Summary: Dieter Bravo’s life proves that plans are overrated—and he’s never been more right about not having one.

Word Count: 12.9k words -- I KNOW! (In Monica Geller's voice)

A/N: Am I having a Dieter brain rot? Why yes, yes, I am. I know I should be writing the next chapter of Lifeline, but here we are. This story contains themes of pregnancy and navigating unexpected life changes, with emotionally intense scenes that touch on topics like potential pregnancy termination, personal doubts, and fears. Though it's mostly fluff, the narrative leans toward a hopeful and supportive direction but explores the complexities of relationships and personal growth. Because hey, it's Dieter!

Warnings: Allusion to abortion, brief mentions of substance use (past), discussions of anxiety and self-doubt, public scrutiny/social media negativity, mentions of past parental loss, minor family tensions, and emotional conversations around pregnancy. Please read with care if these subjects are sensitive for you.

P.S. My laptop, which served me well for 5 years, just gave out. With grad school, the recent loss of my stepdad, and ongoing medical bills, finances are tight. I’m currently managing writing commissions and my dissertation from my phone, which is okay but really challenging. If you can help with a donation or by commissioning some of my writing, it would mean the world to me. Just send me a message 💜 Thank you from the bottom of my heart for any support you can offer. 💜🙏🏻

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Dieter Bravo never thought he’d end up married, let alone to his best friend. It wasn’t the kind of love story he had planned for himself, but then again, Dieter’s plans were usually an afterthought to his impulsive nature. He met her—his wife, the love of his life—years ago at a book signing. He’d been dragged there by a friend who swore her mystery novels were like something straight out of an Agatha Christie thriller, but with a modern, edgier twist.

“Come on, man. Just try something new,” his friend had nudged, practically shoving Dieter into the crowded bookstore. “She’s hot and her books are actually good. Not that you’d know.”

Dieter rolled his eyes but followed, pretending not to care. He didn’t read much beyond scripts, but when he saw her—standing there all wide-eyed and charming behind the signing table, chatting easily with fans—he was hooked. She had this warmth about her, a smile that reached her eyes, and a way of making everyone feel like they were the only person in the room.

When it was his turn in line, Dieter cleared his throat, a little unsure of what to say. “So, uh, is it true you based your killer on your ex?” he asked, flashing her his signature smirk.

She looked up, amused. “Only the charming parts. The murderous tendencies are purely fictional.”

Dieter chuckled, genuinely entertained. “Good to know. I’ll keep my charming side in check.”

She laughed, and Dieter swore he could listen to that sound all day. But the moment passed quickly, and they parted ways, the brief exchange lingering in Dieter’s mind longer than he’d like to admit.

They didn’t reconnect until months later when Dieter landed the role of a lifetime in the film adaptation of one of her books. He played the brooding lead, a role he was born to play, and she was on set every day, consulting on the story she knew better than anyone.

“Bravo!” she called out one afternoon, waving the script in the air as he finished a scene. “I think you missed a line, but you definitely nailed the smirk.”

“Missed the line? Nah, I made it better,” Dieter shot back, strutting over with that effortless confidence of his. “Besides, isn’t the lead supposed to be mysterious and broody? I’m just adding layers.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “Layers of bullshit, maybe.”

Their banter was easy, and soon, late nights spent in hotel bars became their thing. They’d laugh over terrible room service and even worse dialogue changes, often rewriting entire scenes together between drinks.

“Do you think the audience is gonna buy this twist?” Dieter asked one night, his brow furrowed as he scribbled on a napkin. “It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”

“It’s a mystery, Bravo. It’s supposed to be dramatic,” she said, playfully nudging his shoulder. “Besides, you’re the one bringing it to life. If anyone can sell it, it’s you.”

Over the years, their friendship grew deeper. Dieter adored her—not just for her talent, but for the way she saw right through him. She didn’t care about the Hollywood persona; she cared about the guy who struggled with his lines, laughed too loudly, and occasionally got lost in his own head. And it was clear to anyone who knew him that she was the only one who truly got him.

“Why do you even stick around?” Dieter asked one night, half-drunk and more vulnerable than he intended. They were sitting on the balcony of some hotel in Vancouver, the city lights flickering below them, empty glasses scattered between them.

She looked over at him, surprised at the question but not at the insecurity behind it. “You’re kidding, right? Who else is gonna put up with my obsessive rewriting of everything?”

Dieter smirked, but the self-deprecation was still there, hovering. “I’m serious, baby. You’ve seen me at my worst. Hell, you’ve probably seen me at my best, and let’s be real, there’s not a whole lot of difference.”

She rolled her eyes, but there was affection in the gesture. “Come on, Dee. You think I don’t know who you are? I’ve watched you screw up a million times and still pull it off somehow. You’re not as hopeless as you think.”

“Yeah, but it’s all smoke and mirrors,” he muttered, leaning back and staring at the city. “I’m just this mess pretending to be a movie star. And people buy it, but I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the act.”

She leaned closer, her smile gentle but knowing. “You’re not acting, Dee. This is you—chaotic, brilliant, all over the place. And somehow it works. That’s why people love you. It’s why I love you.”

He chuckled, shaking his head. “Sure, but it’s not exactly the stuff that makes for a stable life. I can’t even commit to a weekly gym routine, let alone… you know, anything permanent.”

“Well, it’s good you know that about yourself,” she said, her tone more serious now. “But just because you’re not ready for all that doesn’t mean you’re a failure. You’ve built this crazy, messy, amazing life, and you’ve done it on your terms.”

Dieter glanced at her, the sincerity in her eyes almost too much to bear. “But it’s still just a mess, right? Like, I don’t know how to be the guy who settles down, who has the white picket fence and the kids. It’s not in me.”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t make you any less,” she pointed out, nudging his knee with hers. “You’re the guy who shows up when it counts, who makes people laugh when they need it, who cares more than he lets on. And that’s enough, Dee. It really is.”

Dieter stared at her, his expression softening. “You make it sound like I’m not totally screwing everything up.”

“Because you’re not,” she said simply, giving him a small, reassuring smile. “You’re doing what works for you, and that’s more than most people can say. So don’t be so hard on yourself, okay?”

They sat in a comfortable silence, the kind that comes from knowing each other inside and out. Dieter wasn’t sure if he could ever really change, but with her by his side, he felt like maybe he didn’t need to.

The media loved to ask when Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s lovable mess, was going to settle down. He always laughed it off, brushing it aside with jokes and his trademark self-deprecation. “Settle down?” he’d scoff to reporters, flashing that crooked grin. “Have kids? I can barely take care of myself. I mean, who’s gonna look after the baby when I’m off in Cabo or Amsterdam on a bender?”

He was always open about not wanting to be tied down, convinced that marriage and fatherhood were responsibilities he’d inevitably screw up just like everything else. Deep down, he didn’t think he was cut out for it. Not the commitment, not the kids—none of it. And yet, every time he thought about those nights spent talking with her, he couldn’t help but wonder if maybe, just maybe, he could be more than the sum of his fears.

The truth was, Dieter loved being around kids, especially when visiting his favorite charities—arts programs, hospitals, anywhere that needed his presence to brighten the day. He had a soft spot for the kids who showed up at his movie premieres with homemade signs and for the shy ones who peeked out from behind their parents at hospital visits, their eyes lighting up at the sight of a real-life movie star. He’d spend hours signing autographs, posing for pictures, and handing out gifts. But wanting that momentary joy and having it every day were two entirely different things, and he didn’t think he was built for the kind of life that meant forever.

Then there was Vegas. It was one of those wild weekends that only Dieter and his friends could pull off, the kind that started with a simple plan and spiraled into chaos before anyone could catch their breath. They were there to celebrate a friend’s birthday—a milestone that felt more like a warning than a celebration to Dieter, who had spent the better part of the year dodging questions about settling down and growing up.

The night was a blur of neon lights, overpriced drinks, and the kind of reckless energy that only Vegas could inspire. Dieter and his best friend were deep into their third round of shots at some tacky but charming casino bar, laughing so hard their sides hurt. The conversation was easy, like it always was, jumping from half-remembered movie quotes to bad relationship stories that only got funnier with every shot.

“Remember when you two were drunk off margaritas and swore you’d get married if you were still single at 35?” one of their friends blurted out, pointing at Dieter and her with a tipsy grin. “Well, look at that—clock’s ticking, you two.”

“Oh please, they’d kill each other in a week,” another friend chimed in, rolling their eyes dramatically. “But hey, at least the headlines would be great.”

Dieter leaned back, smirking. “You think she’d kill me? I’m charming as hell.”

She snorted, leaning in closer to Dieter. “Charming? Sure, Dee, if charming means spilling three drinks and forgetting your lines.”

“Oh, you love it, don’t lie,” Dieter shot back, nudging her shoulder playfully.

Their friends egged them on, throwing out half-baked marriage advice between sips of whatever was in their glasses. “Just make sure you don’t pull a Ross and say the wrong name at the altar,” one joked, and they all burst into laughter, doubling over as the drinks kept flowing.

“Hey, I can pronounce her name just fine,” Dieter retorted, raising his glass to her. “What do you say, baby? You and me, Vegas style.”

“Wel…we’re way past 35 now…” she said, still smiling but now with a hint of mischief, “technically, we missed our window… so might as well make good on that old pact, right?”

Dieter stared at her, the room spinning slightly as he tried to read between the lines. They were supposed to be just friends, right? But it didn’t feel like a joke anymore, not when she looked at him like that. And for once, he didn’t want to think it through. He didn’t want to second-guess it or talk himself out of it like he usually did.

“Fuck it,” Dieter said, grinning wider than he had in months. “Let’s do it. You and me, baby. Let’s get hitched.”

Their friends erupted in cheers, half-shocked, half-encouraging, but it didn’t matter. They were drunk on cheap tequila and the reckless abandon of the Vegas Strip, where anything seemed possible. Before Dieter knew it, they were stumbling into a tacky little chapel off the main drag, the kind with neon hearts and an Elvis impersonator in the back who’d seen one too many late-night weddings.

The ceremony was a blur. Dieter remembered laughing so hard that he nearly dropped the ring—some gaudy, oversized thing they’d bought from a souvenir shop on the way over—and the way she squeezed his hand so tightly he could feel her nerves mixing with his own. There were no big speeches or dramatic declarations of love, just a lot of giggling, whispered jokes, and the kind of easy joy that felt like it belonged to them and them alone.

“Do you, Dieter Bravo, take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” the Elvis officiant drawled, barely keeping it together.

Dieter glanced at her, still half-expecting her to back out at the last second. But she was looking at him, eyes full of that familiar mix of sarcasm and something deeper that he’d never quite put a name to. “I do,” he said, and for once, it didn’t feel like a lie.

“And do you, sweetheart, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Elvis asked, already cracking a grin.

She squeezed Dieter’s hand, barely containing her laughter. “Hell yeah, I do.”

Elvis squinted, pausing dramatically. “Are you sure? Divorces are expensive. Trust me, I’ve had three.”

Their friends howled from the pews, tossing out quips. “Yeah, blink twice if you need an escape plan!” one of them shouted, while another chimed in, “You’re stuck with him now, good luck!”

Dieter threw his arm around her, laughing so hard his sides hurt. “Don’t worry, baby, I’m the best terrible decision you’ll ever make.”

She leaned in, grinning. “Guess we’re both screwed then.”

They kissed, and it was messy and off-center, but it felt right. It was the kind of kiss that was more about the laughter and less about the perfection of the moment, which was exactly how Dieter liked it. When they pulled apart, he was breathless, and she was glowing in a way that made the whole crazy, impulsive thing feel like the best decision he’d ever made.

They walked out of that chapel with matching rings and a new reality that neither of them fully understood but were more than willing to figure out together. And in true Dieter fashion, they celebrated the only way they knew how—by grabbing greasy burgers at an all-night diner and gambling away the rest of the night like newlyweds who couldn’t care less about what tomorrow would bring.

For once in his life, Dieter didn’t feel like he was running from anything. He was running toward something—toward her—and it felt like the only thing that made sense.

–

The first few months of marriage were an unpredictable whirlwind, much like the wedding itself. There were no grand changes, no dramatic shifts—just more of the same easy companionship they’d always had, now with the added humor of “Mrs. Bravo” peppered into their banter. They spent mornings in Dieter’s cluttered kitchen, arguing over the best way to make coffee while stumbling over each other in pajamas that never quite matched. Evenings were spent curled up on the couch, watching bad movies and stealing kisses during the credits like lovesick teenagers.

Their friends couldn’t get enough of it, either. The tabloids had gone wild over the news—Dieter Bravo, Hollywood’s most notorious bachelor, suddenly married to his long-time friend in a drunken Vegas escapade. Headlines like “Bravo’s Big Gamble” and “Hollywood’s Wildest Newlyweds” splashed across every gossip rag in the country. But Dieter and his wife took it in stride, shrugging off the noise and focusing on what actually mattered: them.

His family had been just as surprised but in the best way. They had welcomed her with open arms from the very first time she and Dieter had visited together. His mom had pulled her into a tight hug at the door, immediately peppering her with questions about her books and telling her how she had a shelf dedicated to them in the living room. Dieter’s siblings loved her, too—his sister often roping her into baking sessions in the kitchen, laughing over old stories about Dieter’s childhood antics that usually ended with him covered in mud or glitter or some combination of both.

It wasn’t long before she became a staple in their family gatherings, fitting in as if she’d always been there. Sunday dinners at the Bravo house turned into her favorite ritual. She’d help Dieter’s mom in the kitchen, rolling out dough for pies while swapping recipes and stories. Dieter’s nieces and nephews adored her, crowding around to hear tales of mystery and adventure, eyes wide as she brought her characters to life with every word.

“Can you tell us the one about the detective who finds the secret tunnel again?” one of his nephews had asked during Thanksgiving, tugging at her sleeve.

She smiled, glancing at Dieter, who was sitting at the head of the table, grinning like an idiot. “Only if you promise to help me figure out what’s at the end of it,” she teased, ruffling his hair.

His father, a retired fertility expert who had always been the more reserved member of the family, quickly warmed up to her, too. They’d sit on the porch during long afternoons, sipping coffee and talking about life, books, and the occasional scientific trivia that she found endlessly fascinating. He appreciated her wit, her genuine interest in everyone around her, and the way she always seemed to make his son smile.

As the year rolled by, the Bravo family embraced her more and more, and she felt a sense of belonging she hadn’t expected. She was no longer just Dieter’s wife; she was a daughter-in-law, a sister, and an aunt. She was family.

So when Christmas rolled around again, she was eager to be back at the Bravo household, despite feeling under the weather. She’d been sick for nearly two weeks, and Dieter had been worried. She barely ate, surviving mostly on pesto chicken paninis and iced coffee—the only things she could keep down. Still, she was excited to see his family, to bask in the warmth of his mother’s home-cooked meals and his sister-in-law’s desserts. She was looking forward to being surrounded by people who loved her as much as she loved them.

The moment they stepped through the front door, Dieter’s mom engulfed her in a hug, commenting on how thin she looked, and his sister immediately dragged her into the kitchen, insisting on making her favorite cookies. Dieter watched from the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smile. She fit here—so naturally, so effortlessly—that it almost made him forget how odd it all still felt to be someone’s husband. But then she’d look at him across the room, with that same smile she’d had since the bar in Vegas, and it felt right.

But as they settled into the cozy familiarity of his childhood home, Dieter’s father began to notice something. It wasn’t just that she looked tired—there was something else. A subtle glow to her skin, the way her eyes would soften when she looked at Dieter, the quiet but unmistakable aversions to certain foods she normally loved. When she grimaced at the sight of his wife’s famous lasagna and instead picked at a simple salad, he raised an eyebrow. He had seen it before, four times with his own wife, and the theory formed in his mind almost instantly.

It was the little things: how she leaned into Dieter when she thought no one was looking, resting her head on his shoulder like she couldn’t quite keep herself upright; the way her laughter was softer, tinged with something almost nervous. She hadn’t touched a drop of wine the entire evening, claiming she wasn’t in the mood, which was unlike her—especially when Dieter’s mom brought out her favorite bottle from the cellar.

Dieter’s dad observed quietly, piecing together the signs with a mix of curiosity and growing certainty. He knew better than to jump to conclusions, but every instinct told him that there was more to her recent sickness than a simple bug.

–

Later that evening, after dinner, Dieter and his father found themselves outside on the patio. The chill in the air was biting, and Dieter’s breath formed little puffs of smoke as he lit a cigarette, the faint glow of the ember flickering in the dark. He offered one to his dad, who simply shook his head, declining as usual. They settled into an easy silence, the kind that came from years of shared moments like these, watching the yard stretch out before them, dotted with twinkling Christmas lights that cast a warm, festive glow over the familiar landscape.

Dieter took a long drag, savoring the brief buzz of nicotine, and leaned back in his chair. It was quiet, the kind of quiet that always made him think too much, but tonight he welcomed it. He glanced sideways at his dad, whose face was half-lit by the soft glow of the porch light, lost in thought as he nursed his coffee.

“You know, son,” his father said finally, breaking the silence, “I couldn’t help but notice something about her tonight.”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, curiosity piqued. “Yeah? Like what?”

His father hesitated, his expression thoughtful as he swirled the coffee in his mug. “She’s been feeling under the weather, hasn’t she? Seems a bit off.”

Dieter nodded, taking another drag and blowing out the smoke in a slow stream. “Yeah, she’s been sick for a couple of weeks. Picky about food, which isn’t like her. She’s basically living on those pesto chicken paninis. She can’t keep much else down.”

His father chuckled softly, the sound low and knowing, like he was recalling something long ago. “Huh. That’s interesting. Reminds me of your mom back in the day.”

Dieter frowned, glancing over at him. “What do you mean?”

There was a pause, and his father’s eyes stayed fixed on the yard, lost in a memory that Dieter couldn’t quite place. Finally, he spoke, his tone careful, almost gentle. “Have you considered she might be pregnant?”

Dieter’s reaction was instant—he snorted, nearly choking on his cigarette smoke as he laughed it off, but the sound was more nervous than amused. “Pregnant? Nah, no way. She’s got an IUD. Besides, we’ve been careful.”

His father smiled, but it wasn’t condescending. It was the kind of smile that spoke of experience, of having lived through more than one surprise in his lifetime. “IUDs aren’t foolproof, son. Nothing is. And I’ve seen those signs before. Aversions, fatigue, the way she looked at food tonight… I saw it with your mother every time she was pregnant.”

Dieter’s laugh faded, replaced by an uncomfortable tightness in his chest. He ran a hand through his hair, tugging slightly at the ends as his mind raced. “You’re serious?”

“Look, I’m not saying she is,” his father said, raising his hands in a small gesture of surrender. “But I’ve been around this long enough to know the signs when I see them. I’m just saying, it’s possible.”

Dieter stared out at the yard, the once comforting sight now blurred by the thoughts colliding in his mind. He tried to dismiss it, to chalk it up to his dad’s habit of overanalyzing things. But suddenly, every little moment from the past few weeks replayed in his head like a reel he couldn’t pause: the way she’d cried over soup earlier that evening, overwhelmed by finally finding something she could eat; the quiet, tired smiles; the sudden need to rest her head on his shoulder whenever she got the chance. Dieter had brushed it off as just a rough patch—nothing serious, nothing that couldn’t be fixed with rest and time.

But now, hearing his father say it out loud, it all started to click. The missed meals, the strange cravings, her emotional reactions to things that normally wouldn’t faze her. It was like putting together a puzzle he didn’t even know he was working on.

“What do I do if you’re right?” Dieter finally asked, his voice low, tinged with a mix of fear and something else he couldn’t quite name.

His father took another sip of his coffee, considering his son carefully. “You talk to her. Find out for sure. And whatever the outcome, you handle it together. That’s what this is, Dieter. Marriage, family—it's not about knowing every answer. It’s about facing it together, no matter how unexpected it is.”

Dieter nodded, though his mind was still reeling. He didn’t know if he was ready for what his father was suggesting, but one thing was clear: he needed to talk to her. His dad’s words hung heavy in the cold night air, and suddenly, the easygoing world Dieter had grown comfortable in felt a little less certain. 

–

That night, back in their room at Dieter’s parents’ house, the tension lingered like a thick fog. They were staying for the weekend, and though the familiarity of the guest room usually felt comforting, tonight it felt like the walls were closing in. Dieter sprawled out on the bed, flipping through channels on the TV without really watching. His mind was a mess of half-formed thoughts, circling back to the conversation with his father, and he couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling gnawing at him.

She was curled up next to him, absorbed in her Kindle, but every so often, Dieter noticed her shifting slightly, like she couldn’t quite get comfortable. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, trying to figure out how to bring up what was weighing on him without sounding like he’d lost his mind.

“So, funny story,” Dieter started, forcing a lightness into his tone that he didn’t feel. “My dad has this theory. He thinks you might be pregnant.”

She looked up from her Kindle, her brow furrowing as she processed his words. “What? Where’d that come from?”

“Yeah, I know,” Dieter laughed, though it sounded more nervous than amused. He fidgeted with the remote, clicking through channels too fast to see what was on. “He’s been watching you tonight, noticing stuff. You know, the food aversions and all that. He said something about it reminding him of when my mom was pregnant.”

She blinked, staring at him like she wasn’t sure if he was joking or serious. “That’s… random. I mean, it’s just paninis and iced coffee. And I’ve been stressed, that’s all. I mean, I have an IUD.”

“Yeah, that’s what I told him,” Dieter said, shrugging. “I told him it’s not possible, right? But he kept going on about how those things aren’t foolproof and—”

She cut him off, her laugh sharp and a little shaky. “No, yeah, of course. It’s just… I mean, we’ve been careful. I thought…”

Dieter raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk crossing his lips. “Careful? Are we really?” He gave her a knowing look, recalling their many reckless moments. “I mean, I lost count of the times we said, ‘eh, what’s the worst that could happen?’”

She groaned, burying her face in her hands, but she couldn’t hide the grin peeking through. “Oh God, don’t remind me. You said it’d be fine because ‘science, baby!’”

“Yeah, classic me,” Dieter laughed, feeling the tension break just a little. “Maybe our ‘science’ needs some workshopping.”

They chuckled, genuinely amused by their own recklessness. For a moment, it felt like any other night, just the two of them joking around like they always did. But then the laughter faded, and the unspoken possibility lingered, nudging at the back of their minds.

Dieter hesitated, then set the remote down, his voice dropping to a softer, more vulnerable tone. “IUDs aren’t a hundred percent, you know.”

She didn’t say anything right away, her eyes locked on him as if searching for some reassurance he couldn’t quite give. Finally, she set her Kindle aside, pulling her knees up to her chest. “Do you think… do you think he’s right?”

The question hung in the air, too big to ignore, and neither of them moved. Dieter rubbed the back of his neck, his mind racing. “I don’t know, baby. But we could… find out.”

She nodded, her breath hitching slightly, and they didn’t wait to talk themselves out of it. The drive to the pharmacy was tense and quiet, but the nervous energy turned into something almost comical when they got inside. Dieter, trying to look inconspicuous in his cap and mask, accidentally grabbed a COVID test from the shelf and tossed it in the basket without looking.

She glanced at it, biting back a laugh. “Dee, unless you’re worried I’ve got a pandemic brewing, I think you grabbed the wrong kind of test.”

“What?” He squinted at the box, his eyes widening. “Oh, shit. I just saw ‘test’ and panicked. Could you imagine? ‘Congratulations, you’re… COVID positive!’”

They both snorted, trying to suppress their laughter as they swapped it out for a pile of pregnancy tests. “At least we’re wearing masks,” she quipped, trying to hide her nerves behind the humor.

Dieter nodded, their masks pulling at their grins as they paid quickly and slipped back out into the night. Back in their room, she took the tests into Dieter’s private bathroom, thankful she didn’t have to make the awkward walk down the hallway past his nephews, who were still glued to the PlayStation. Dieter paced the room, his anxiety growing with every passing second. He could hear the faint sounds of her moving in the bathroom—running water, the crinkle of plastic, the sound of her soft sighs—and each noise sent a jolt of unease through him.

He ran his hands through his hair, messing it up even more, his mind racing with a thousand thoughts. What if his dad was right? What if they were really about to become parents? He didn’t know how to do this—any of it. He wasn’t cut out to be a dad. Hell, he could barely take care of himself most days. But then he thought about her, about the way she used to talk about wanting a family, back in the early days of their friendship, years before they got married. She’d share those dreams in the quiet moments when they were lying in bed, late at night, her voice soft and wistful as she painted a picture of a life she wanted someday—one with kids, a messy house full of love, and mornings that started with chaos and ended with bedtime stories.

He hadn’t heard her talk about it in a long time, not since they’d crossed the line from best friends to whatever it was they’d become now. They hadn’t really discussed it after they got married, like the possibility had just been a footnote in their drunken Vegas vows, not something real. But Dieter knew she probably still wanted it, that deep down, those dreams hadn’t gone away, just tucked themselves into a quieter part of her heart.

And now, for the first time, Dieter let himself admit what he’d been denying all along—he wanted it, too. He tried to fight it, tried to tell himself he was still the same guy who didn’t want to be tied down, but the truth was, he’d settled down the moment he said “I do.” And now… he’s sure he’s ready to dream of that life, too. The one where they weren’t just figuring things out as they went but actually working towards something together, as husband and wife, as mom and dad.

Finally, the bathroom door creaked open, and she stepped out, her face pale and her hands trembling slightly. She didn’t have to say anything; Dieter could see the truth in her eyes. Without a word, he followed her into the bathroom, and there they were, lined up on the counter: five pregnancy tests, each one showing two clear lines.

Positive. All of them.

Dieter stared at the tests, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to find something, anything, to say. He could hear her breathing beside him, shallow and uneven, and he knew her heart was pounding just as hard as his. She swallowed, her eyes fixed on the tests as if they might change if she stared long enough.

She finally broke the silence, her voice small but steady. “It’s okay, Dieter. You don’t have to worry about it. I’ll… I’ll take care of it.”

–

Her words snapped Dieter back to reality, his brows furrowing as he tried to grasp what she meant. He watched her walk past him out of the bathroom, her movements brisk and determined, but there was a tremble in her step that made his stomach drop. She went straight to the dresser, grabbing her phone with a familiar sense of purpose. Dieter followed, his confusion mounting as she dialed a number with shaky hands.

“What are you doing?” Dieter asked, his voice edged with growing alarm. “Who are you calling in the middle of the night?”

She glanced at him but didn’t answer directly. “It’s fine, Dee. I’m going to take care of it.”

The line clicked, and a familiar voice filled the silence—one of her friends, an OB-GYN Dieter had met several times at dinner parties and gatherings. “Hey, I’m sorry to call so late,” she said into the phone, her voice tight but controlled. “I need another favor.”

Dieter’s heart sank as he heard the gasp on the other end. The doctor’s voice wavered, filled with concern. “Are you sure? I mean… are you really sure about this?”

Dieter watched her, still trying to catch up, but he could hear the tension in the doctor’s voice and the weight of what was being asked. She glanced at him, her eyes meeting his, and in that moment, Dieter felt like the ground was slipping out from under him. “I’m sure,” she said quietly. “I’ll wait for the prescription in the morning.”

She ended the call and set the phone down, her hand trembling. Dieter felt his shock morphing into a hot, simmering anger, his chest tightening as he tried to make sense of what he’d just heard. “What?” he asked, his voice rising, desperate to believe he’d misheard. “What prescription? Prenatal vitamins?” He was trying to hold onto some hope, clinging to the possibility that this wasn’t what it seemed, that she wasn’t about to make a decision without him. But deep down, he knew.

She sighed, biting her lower lip, her eyes brimming with unshed tears. She opened her mouth to speak, but the words seemed to catch in her throat. Dieter could see her knees wobble, and before he could process it, she was leaning against the side table, her legs barely holding her up. He rushed to her, guiding her gently to the bed and kneeling before her, his anger wavering as he saw the look in her eyes.

Tears streamed down her face, silent and relentless, and Dieter realized it was the first time he’d seen her cry in years. Not since her father had passed, not even when she’d broken up with someone he knew she had loved deeply. She was always so strong, so composed, but now she was trembling, and all she could manage were soft, broken apologies. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice cracking as she repeated it over and over. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Dieter’s anger melted away, replaced by a sharp pain that pierced his chest. He reached up, cupping her face gently, wiping away the tears that continued to fall. “Hey, hey, calm down, okay? Just… baby, please… can you tell me what that was all about?”

She nodded, her breath hitching as she tried to collect herself. The silence between them was tense, heavy with unspoken fears and the weight of what was happening. Finally, she spoke, her voice small and wavering. “I know you don’t want kids, Dieter. I’ve known that from the start, and I respect that. I love you so much, and I know I don’t say it often, but I do. I love the life we have together. And I didn’t… I didn’t want to ruin that.”

Dieter listened, the words sinking in, but every syllable felt like a sting. “You’re not ruining anything, baby,” he said, his voice softer now but still edged with confusion and hurt. “But you didn’t even… I mean, we didn’t even talk about it.”

She looked down, her tears falling faster now. “I was afraid to. You’ve always been so clear, and I didn’t want to make you feel trapped. I know kids were never part of the plan. I didn’t want to put that on you.”

Dieter took a deep breath, his mind still reeling, but he tried to keep his voice steady. “You’re not–Jesus…I understand why you feel this way baby…” he said gently, squeezing her hands. “And I’m sorry we never talked about it before, not even once. I know I said I didn’t want kids, and I thought that was it. But… then…” He sighed deeply… “W-we should at least talk about it before you go and get that prescription in the morning.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and glistening with tears, clearly caught between fear and guilt. “Dieter, I—”

“No, listen,” he interrupted softly, his tone calm but firm. “I want you to know that whatever you decide, I’ll support you. I’ll stand by you no matter what. But I need to know that if you go through with this, it’s because you want to, not because you think it’s what I want. I respect you, and I love you. And yeah, maybe I’ve always been afraid of having kids, but I also know you’ve wanted this. I’ve known for years, and I’m sorry we’ve never talked about it since getting married. But maybe… maybe now’s the time we should.”

She shook her head, biting her lip to keep it from trembling. “I don’t want to pop our bubble, Dieter. I’ve spent so long thinking that if I brought this up, it would be too much for you. You’ve said it before—kids are overwhelming, right? And I get it. Hell, the thought of it overwhelms me, too. But it’s different for you. I didn’t want to lose you. I love you so much, Dee. I love what we have. And I was scared that… that if I bring it up, it would drive you away.”

Dieter’s heart ached as he watched her, the weight of her words sinking in. “Baby, I’m not going anywhere,” he said, his voice cracking slightly. “But you can’t just… handle this alone. Not for me.”

She took a shaky breath, the truth finally spilling out in the soft, halting words she’d kept buried. “That’s why I got the IUD. A few months after we got married… after I found out I was pregnant. You were away in London for that shoot, and I was alone. And I—” She paused, choking back a sob as she struggled to get the words out. “I panicked. I was terrified of what it would mean for us, for you, for everything. So, I… I took care of it. I didn’t want to burden you with it, and I thought I was doing the right thing.”

Dieter’s face went pale, his expression shifting from shock to something more profound—hurt, confusion, and an aching sadness that he didn’t quite know how to process. His hold on her hands went slack. He hadn’t been there. He hadn’t known. While he was away, filming scenes and living the life he thought he wanted, she had been here, facing a reality that should have been theirs to share.

“You—” Dieter started, standing up, trying to say something but the words caught in his throat. “You did that… without telling me?”

She nodded, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I didn’t know how to tell you, Dee. You were gone, and I was scared. I didn’t want you to feel trapped or forced into something you never wanted. I thought it was better that way.”

Dieter’s mind raced as he tried to grasp what she was saying. He ran a hand down his face, cupping his mouth as he took in a long drag of air. The anger he’d felt earlier had melted into something more painful, something that cut deeper than he expected. He’d never wanted this, but now, faced with the reality that they’d lost something before it had even begun, Dieter felt a profound sense of grief for what could have been—and for what he still had a chance to fight for.

He swallowed hard, his voice breaking as he spoke. “I wish you’d told me. I wish you hadn’t gone through all that alone. I know I’m not perfect, and I know I’ve said a lot of shit about not wanting kids, but… I want you. And if you want this—if you want us to have this—then I want it, too. But you have to be sure. This isn’t just about me. It’s us, and we can’t keep pretending it’s not.”

She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of hesitation, but all she saw was the man who had always been there, even when they hadn’t known what the hell they were doing. Dieter knelt before her, his hands steady on her knees, offering her the quiet reassurance she’d been afraid to ask for. They were scared, both of them, but for the first time, it felt like they were scared together.

A heavy silence stretched between them, thick with the weight of everything unsaid. She stared down at her trembling hands, struggling to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. Finally, she broke the quiet, her voice small and cracking under the strain. “I understand if you want a divorce, Dieter.” Tears began to roll down her cheeks again, and she looked up at him, and he could feel and see the pain and resignation in them. “I’d give it to you, you know. If that’s what it takes for you to live your truth. If it means you get to live the life you always wanted—not something complicated by a kid and a wife.”

Dieter’s breath caught in his throat, and he shook his head, trying to grasp the gravity of what she was saying. “What? No… what are you talking about? Divorce? That’s not—”

“I don’t want to trap you, Dee,” she interrupted, her voice quivering. “I never wanted you to feel stuck. At least if we divorce, I get to keep my baby, and you get to live your life. We both get what we want.” She said it with a heartbreaking kind of finality, her gaze dropping as though she couldn’t bear to look at him.

Hearing her say “her baby” like that shattered something inside Dieter. He could feel his chest tighten as his emotions boiled over, hot tears streaming down his face. “You think that’s what I want?” he whispered, his voice breaking as he tried to keep it down. They were still in his parents’ house, and he didn’t want anyone hearing this, but he couldn’t keep the hurt out of his words. “You think I want to live some half-assed life without you? Without… our baby?”

She flinched at his words, torn between the guilt and the love she still felt for him. “Dieter, you’ve always said—”

“I know what I’ve said!” Dieter snapped, his voice rising before he caught himself. He pressed a fist to his mouth, trying to stifle the sobs that threatened to break free. “God, I’ve been so fucked up. So caught up in what I thought I wanted, what I told everyone I didn’t want. I never… I never told you how much I love you. How much I need you. And now you’re willing to sacrifice everything because of me? Because I’m too much of a mess to communicate? That’s not fair, baby. That’s on me.”

She looked away, blinking back tears as she tried to keep her voice steady. “It’s not about blame, Dieter. I can’t live with the guilt of not giving you the chance to have the life you deserve. I’d rather… I’d rather set you free than see you stuck in something you don’t want. I love you too much for that.”

Dieter shook his head, his shoulders slumping as the enormity of her words hit him. He didn’t know how to make her understand. “But I don’t want to be free,” he said, almost pleading. “I don’t want any of this without you. I’ve spent my whole life running from everything—commitment, responsibility, you name it. But not you. Not us. You… you made me realize I could be more than that.”

She listened, her heart breaking with every word. “I don’t want to be unfair, Dee. I’ve spent so long dreaming about this—about being a mom. And I know kids were never part of your dream, and I just… I don’t want to take that from you.”

Dieter wiped his eyes, his voice hoarse and desperate. “You’re not taking anything from me. Please, don’t do this. Don’t make decisions for me. You’ve always been my partner, my equal… baby, you make me want to be a better person… whatever the hell that looks like…”

She let out a shaky laugh through her tears, reaching up to cup his face. “I just… I didn’t want to pop our bubble. It’s been so perfect, even with all the chaos. And the thought of losing that, of losing you in such a way… it scares me more than anything.”

Dieter’s sobs turned to quiet laughter, a broken sound that mirrored the bittersweetness of the moment. “You think I’m not scared? I’ve been scared of fucking everything my whole life, and you were the one person who made me think I didn’t have to be. You’re my team, baby. We’re a damn good one. And I know that if we have this kid… our kid… we’d be amazing parents, too.”

She looked at him, her tears finally slowing, replaced by a fragile smile that made Dieter’s heartache. “I just don’t want to be unfair,” she whispered, her voice soft but sincere.

“You’re not being unfair,” Dieter said, his tone tender but firm. “Please, just… reconsider. Our relationship, our marriage… our baby. Let’s figure it out together. No more guessing what the other person wants.”

She nodded, her eyes locking with his, and for the first time since the night had started, she felt a glimmer of hope. They were both terrified, still reeling from everything that had come to light, but at least now, they were facing it together, no more secrets, no more hiding. Just the two of them and the uncertain but hopeful future with a baby they were ready to build.

–

The next morning was Christmas, and despite the whirlwind of emotions that had unfolded the night before, Dieter and his wife had decided to keep their news to themselves for now. It was too early—too new, too precious, and far too complicated to try to explain just yet. They put on their best smiles, exchanged gifts with his family, and managed to get through the morning without giving anything away.

As soon as they left his parents’ house, they headed straight to her OB-GYN’s office. Dieter squeezed her hand in the waiting room, both of them tense but trying to stay calm. When the doctor finally confirmed the news—they were eight weeks along—it felt both real and surreal at the same time. They were both relieved and overwhelmed, knowing it was still too early to tell anyone, too early for announcements, but their hearts were already full of the possibility.

Back at their house, Dieter immediately started making little changes, moving things around and insisting on turning one of the guest rooms into a nursery. “This room gets the best light,” he said, gesturing animatedly as they stood in the empty space, still filled with random furniture and boxes they hadn’t sorted through. “We can do a crib over here, maybe a rocking chair by the window… Oh, and I saw this thing on Pinterest—don’t laugh—about these little wall decals, like stars and moons. We could do a whole sky theme.”

She watched him, leaning against the doorframe, a soft smile tugging at her lips. “I didn’t even know you had a Pinterest account.”

Dieter turned, shrugging sheepishly. “What? I like my aesthetics.”

She laughed, her heart swelling at the sight of him so invested. It was like watching a kid with a new project, and she couldn’t help but feel a little lighter. “You’re really into this, huh?”

He looked at her, eyes sparkling with an excitement that was infectious. “Yeah, I am. What’s so funny?”

She shook her head, still smiling. “Nothing, it’s just… I never thought I’d see the day when Dieter Bravo is this excited about becoming a dad.”

Dieter’s expression softened, and he crossed the room, wrapping his arms around her. “Well, get used to it, baby. I’m all in.”

As the days passed, they began to settle into this new phase of their life together, their once spontaneous and free-spirited existence slowly evolving without them even realizing it. They had always been people of the moment, living day to day with little thought of what came next. Before, their conversations rarely drifted beyond the present—they were about last-minute weekend trips, late-night takeout, or whatever wild idea Dieter would come up with next. The future was never really on the table, not in a serious way. They thrived on spontaneity, on the freedom of not being tied down by plans or expectations.

But now, there was a subtle but undeniable shift in the air between them. It wasn’t something they talked about directly, but rather something that quietly settled in, like a warm, comforting blanket. Their conversations began to naturally drift into what was coming, not just what was happening now. They found themselves talking about baby names over breakfast, Dieter suggesting offbeat, quirky names that made her laugh while she countered with more classic choices that she’d always dreamed of, being the writer that she is and her love for literature.

Dieter would randomly pull out his phone to show her baby gear he’d found online, everything from the practical to the absurdly adorable. “Look at this stroller, baby. It’s got all-terrain wheels! Imagine us taking the kid hiking. Okay, maybe not hiking, but, you know… walking down a slightly uneven sidewalk.”

She’d laugh, watching him with a kind of fondness that was new, soft, and overwhelming. She’d catch him in the nursery sometimes, hunched over with a tape measure, making notes and sketches of where things should go. He was planning—actually planning—and it warmed her in a way she couldn’t quite describe.

One afternoon, she found him kneeling on the floor, surrounded by paint samples and wallpaper swatches, muttering to himself about whether to go with the pale blue or the pastel purple. “I don’t know, do you think clouds are too cliché? What if we did something more abstract? Like a sky, but, like, artsy. You know, like, dreamland stuff.”

She leaned against the doorframe, a smile playing at her lips. “Dieter Bravo, debating interior design for a nursery. Who would’ve thought?”

He looked up, his grin boyish and bright. “I know, right? Next, I’ll be on HGTV. ‘Bravo’s Baby Rooms.’ It’ll be a hit.”

She rolled her eyes, but her heart swelled with something deeper. They were still them, still the same pair who’d decided to get married on a whim in Vegas, who’d spent years living in the moment and rarely looking ahead. But now, the future wasn’t something scary or overwhelming. It was something they were building together, brick by brick, conversation by conversation.

Sometimes, in the quiet moments, she would find herself lying awake at night, her hand resting on the small swell of her belly, feeling the gentle flutters of life within her. Dieter would be next to her, snoring softly, and she’d just listen, soaking in the warmth of their home. She realized then how much had changed between them—how they’d gone from two people floating through life, clinging to the present, to a couple that was starting to dream together. 

It wasn’t just about the baby, though that was the catalyst. It was the way their whole world had shifted, gently guiding them toward a future that felt bright and full of possibility.

Their once spontaneous, fly-by-the-seat-of-your-pants relationship was evolving into something richer, something that made space for plans and hopes. She’d catch Dieter browsing parenting books or obsessively researching the best baby monitors, and each time, she couldn’t help but feel a surge of love she hadn’t quite known before.

It wasn’t forced or awkward; it was the most natural thing in the world, like breathing. They were still the same Dieter and his wife, the quirky mystery novel writer—impulsive, playful, unorthodox in every way—but now, their lives together carried an undercurrent of something… warmer, softer, and a little more planned than usual. 

One evening, she was curled up on the couch, cozy under a thick, soft blanket, her Kindle in one hand and the other resting gently on the small but noticeable bump of her belly. She’d grown accustomed to the comforting weight of her growing child. Dieter strolled in from the kitchen, carrying a bowl of popcorn, and dropped onto the couch beside her with a contented sigh.

“You look way too comfortable,” she teased, nudging him playfully with her foot, a smile tugging at her lips as she watched him sink into the cushions like he belonged there.

“I am,” Dieter said, settling in beside her and resting his head against her shoulder. He let out a contented sigh, his eyes drifting down to her bump, and his hand found hers, resting warmly over the swell of her belly. “I love this. I love everything about this.”

She chuckled, her fingers absentmindedly tracing soft circles on her belly, feeling the little flutters of movement beneath her skin. “You always loved kids, Dee. I know that. I just… I never thought I’d live to see the day when you’d actually be a dad.”

Dieter’s smile softened, and tears welled in his eyes as he scooted closer, wrapping his arms around her and pressing his face into her chest. She could feel the quiet, vulnerable sobs shaking his shoulders, and it melted her heart. “You’re making my deepest, darkest dreams come true, baby,” he mumbled, his voice muffled by her warmth, words spilling out with raw sincerity.

She laughed, tilting her head back as she ruffled his hair affectionately. “I thought your deepest, darkest dreams that I made come true involved a strap-on, Bravo.”

Dieter snorted, lifting his head just enough to flash her a cheeky grin. Without missing a beat, he buried his face into her chest, playfully motorboating her. She squealed, swatting at his head as they both dissolved into laughter, tangled together on the couch.

“God, you’re such a perv,” she giggled, half-heartedly pushing him away even though she was laughing too hard to mean it.

He finally pulled back, grinning unapologetically as he reached up and cupped one of her breasts, squeezing playfully. “Honk honk,” he said, eyes twinkling with mischief.

She rolled her eyes, shaking her head but unable to keep a straight face. “Dieter, you’re ridiculous.”

“I know,” he said, still chuckling as he leaned in to kiss her softly. 

“I love you, mama.” He whispered against her mouth. 

–

As days turned into weeks, they found themselves back at the doctor’s office for the 20-week scan. The drive there was tense, filled with nervous silence and half-hearted attempts at small talk that did little to mask their growing anxiety. Dieter’s usually easygoing demeanor was replaced with restless energy, and she could feel it radiating off him as they sat in the waiting room, both of them on edge.

She sat nervously beside him, her leg bouncing up and down as she stared at the outdated magazines scattered on the table in front of them. Dieter glanced over, noticing the jittery movement. He nudged her lightly with his elbow, offering a crooked smile. “Babe, you’re bouncing your leg like you’re tweaking. Seriously, I’ve been around a lot of meth heads, and you’re giving me flashbacks.”

She snorted, covering her mouth as a burst of laughter escaped, her nerves momentarily easing. “I can’t help it, okay? This is… I’m freaking out.”

Dieter reached over, his fingers lacing through hers as he squeezed gently. “I get it, but you gotta chill. You’re acting like you’re on something, and trust me, I know that vibe.” He gave her hand another reassuring squeeze. “You’ve gotta stop reading all those Reddit posts. They’re nothing but horror stories.”

She nodded, though she still looked pale, her eyes flicking around the room as if searching for something to distract herself. “I know, I just… I can’t help it. I’ve read too many stories about 20-week scans going wrong. What if something’s wrong, Dieter? I don’t think I can handle it.”

Dieter leaned in closer, brushing a kiss against her temple. “Hey, nothing’s wrong. Our kid’s strong. Just like you. Baby’s gonna be fine, okay? Let’s just breathe.”

They were finally called into the scan room, and the doctor greeted them with a warm smile, chatting casually as she prepared the machine. “How are we feeling today? Ready to see this little one?” she asked, her voice calm and reassuring as she applied the cool gel to her belly. Dieter stood by her side, holding her hand tightly, both of them staring at the monitor with bated breath.

The doctor moved the wand over her stomach, her brows knitting slightly as she searched the screen, waiting for a heartbeat. At first, there was nothing—just static silence, the absence of that familiar, rhythmic thump that they both so desperately wanted to hear. The doctor adjusted the wand, repositioning and angling it slightly, her expression remaining neutral but focused.

Dieter could feel his wife’s grip tighten, her fingers digging into his, and he squeezed back, his own heart pounding. “Is everything okay?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper, laced with fear.

The doctor glanced at them, her smile reassuring but a little strained. “Sometimes the baby’s in a tricky position so it’s hard to get the heartbeat. Let’s just give it a moment.” She moved the wand again, her eyes flicking between the screen and her belly as she pressed a bit harder, trying to get a better view.

But the silence lingered, and the tension in the room grew thicker. Dieter could feel his pulse racing, his mind going a mile a minute. He tried to keep calm, tried to joke, but his voice came out strained. 

“Kid’s already messing with us, huh? Definitely takes after me.”

It falls flat, and he frowns deeper. 

The doctor’s brows furrowed as she moved the wand slowly, deliberately, the silence stretching on until it was almost unbearable. “Come on, little one,” she murmured under her breath, adjusting the machine again.

She glanced at Dieter and his wife, reading the fear on their faces. “I know it’s nerve-wracking, but try not to panic. This happens sometimes.” The words were meant to soothe, but each passing second felt like an eternity, and Dieter felt like the walls were closing in.

Suddenly, the doctor paused, her eyes widening slightly. “Oh—hold on. I think I forgot to turn on the sound.” She reached over and pressed a button on the machine, and instantly, the room filled with the steady, reassuring thump of their baby’s heartbeat, clear and strong.

Dieter and his wife both let out a collective sigh of relief, laughing shakily as the tension broke. “Oh my god,” she breathed, her head falling back against the table as she squeezed Dieter’s hand. “You just shaved ten years off my life.”

The doctor chuckled, her face apologetic. “I’m so sorry about that. It happens more often than you’d think.” She moved the wand slightly, showing them their baby on the screen. “There we go. Heartbeat is strong, and baby looks perfect.”

Dieter let out a shaky laugh, wiping at his eyes as he glanced at his wife. “Kid’s already got us on edge. I guess that’s just payback for all the years I’ve been a handful.”

They all shared a brief, much-needed laugh, the tension slowly melting away. But the doctor’s expression turned a bit more serious as she continued to move the wand, examining the screen with careful precision. She began marking key areas on the screen, capturing images and making notes as she went. “Now, remember, this is your 20-week scan,” she said, her tone gentle but factual. “This is an important one because it’s when we check for congenital anomalies. We’ll be looking closely at your baby’s organs and development to make sure everything is on track.”

Dieter and his wife nodded, their earlier relief tempered by the weight of what the doctor was saying. This wasn’t just about hearing the heartbeat; it was about seeing if their baby was healthy, if everything was developing the way it should. The room fell quiet again, the soft whir of the machine the only sound as the doctor carefully scanned each part of their baby’s tiny body, capturing and saving images to review.

“We’re looking at the brain and skull,” the doctor explained, pointing to the image on the screen as she took a snapshot. “The structures look well-formed, and everything is measuring normally.” She moved the wand again, pausing over the baby’s chest and marking the image. “And here’s the heart. We’re checking for proper function, looking at the chambers and blood flow. So far, everything looks great.”

Dieter squeezed his wife’s hand, the feeling of both awe and anxiety filling the cavity of his chest. Every tiny movement on the screen felt monumental, every word from the doctor a lifeline. The doctor continued, showing them the spine, the kidneys, the limbs—every detail scrutinized with care and captured for documentation.

“And here’s the stomach and the diaphragm. We’re looking for normal positioning and function,” she said, moving methodically, her voice steady and calm. “All good signs here.” She took another image, marking it on the screen with a series of measurements.

Dieter’s wife squeezed his hand, her eyes locked on the screen, watching their baby’s tiny fingers flex and curl. “Is that… is that the baby’s hand?” she asked, her voice soft, filled with wonder.

“Yes, it is,” the doctor smiled, zooming in on the tiny hand and capturing the image. “Five fingers, all accounted for.”

They watched in silence, their emotions swinging from relief to fear and back again with every scan of the baby’s developing organs. The doctor’s voice was steady, reassuring them as she checked for any signs of congenital anomalies. Each confirmation that everything was normal felt like a small victory, a breath they didn’t realize they were holding.

“Everything looks normal and healthy,” the doctor finally said, pulling back and saving the last image. “Your baby is developing beautifully.”

Dieter and his wife both let out breaths they hadn’t realized they were holding, their hands still clasped tightly together. It wasn’t just relief—it was gratitude, to the doctor and the universe, for keeping their little bun healthy. 

They thanked the doctor, their voices filled with a concoction of relief, exhaustion, and overwhelming joy. As they left the office, they felt lighter, buoyed by the knowledge that their baby was safe and thriving. There’s only one thing for them to do now: start telling their family and friends. 

–

“You okay?” Dieter asked, his voice gentle as they pulled into his parents’ driveway. The house looked warm and welcoming, draped in fairy lights that twinkled against the evening sky, but she couldn’t quite shake the tightness in her chest.

She nodded, but it was automatic, her mind racing with thoughts she hadn’t fully processed, and her tears just started spilling like clockwork. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just… it’s a lot, you know? Your parents are going to be so happy, and I—I don’t have that anymore. I don’t have anyone to tell.” She tried to laugh it off, her voice catching slightly, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. “God, listen to me. I’m such a mess. It’s probably just hormones.”

Dieter squeezed her hand, his expression softening. He knew how much she missed her dad, how his absence lingered in moments like these. “It’s not just hormones, baby,” he said gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles. “You’re allowed to feel this. I wish your dad was here, too. I think about it all the time—how proud he’d be, how he’d probably be spoiling you right now.”

She let out a shaky breath, “It’s stupid, but it just hit me today, you know? Like, he was the only family I had, and now… I guess I thought I was past all this. But it’s different now. This is so big, and I feel like I’m missing that piece.”

Dieter pulled her hand up, kissing her knuckles softly. “It’s not stupid. And you’re not without parents completely. My parents love you—hell, they might love you more than they love me. They text you more than they text me, anyway.”

She let out a laugh, and it felt good, a brief moment of lightness breaking through the weight in her chest. “They do, don’t they? They’re always sending me recipes, cute cat and dog vides, and asking for book recommendations. Meanwhile, you get the ‘how’s your liver?’ texts.”

Dieter grinned, happy to see her smile even through tears. “Exactly. Trust me, they’re going to be over the moon about this. You’re their family, too. And yeah, it’s big—it’s bigger than anything we’ve done—but you don’t have to carry that alone. My parents, they’re gonna be here, every annoying, loving step of the way.”

She squeezed his hand, feeling a little more grounded. “Thanks, babe. I needed that.”

Dieter nodded, his own emotions bubbling under the surface. He knew how hard this was for her, and he wanted to make sure she never felt like she was alone in this. “Hey, we’re in this together. And we’re about to make their year, so let’s go in there and give them something to celebrate.”

They stepped out of the car, hand in hand, and walked up to the front door. She adjusted her coat, feeling the weight of the moment settle in her chest, but Dieter squeezed her hand reassuringly. They’d been parked for a while, gathering themselves, and now it was time. Dieter knocked, and within seconds, the door swung open.

Dieter’s mother stood there, her expression a mix of concern and relief. “Oh, there you are! We were starting to get worried—you’ve been sitting out there for ages. I thought maybe something was wrong.”

“Everything’s fine,” Dieter assured her, giving her a quick hug. “We were just… talking.”

His mom nodded, though she kept glancing between them, still a little uncertain. “It’s so good to see you two! Come in, come in.”

Dieter’s father was in the living room, setting out coffee and cookies on the table. He looked up, grinning in his usual dry way. “Hey, you two. What’s this? I thought you’d be busy writing another bestseller or maybe dragging Dieter around to get some culture.”

Dieter laughed, shaking his head. “Well, it’s not that, but it’s something just as good.”

His wife exchanged a quick look with him, her nerves sparking up again. Dieter, sensing her hesitation, gave her an encouraging smile and gently reached up to help her with her coat. As he slipped it off her shoulders, he draped it neatly over the back of the couch, revealing the gentle curve of her growing bump.

His parents’ eyes widened, and for a second, they both just stared, taking it in. Dieter’s mom’s hand flew to her mouth, her eyes brimming with tears. “Oh my gosh… are you…?”

Dieter’s wife nodded, her voice trembling with a mix of nerves and joy. “We’re having a baby. I’m pregnant.”

For a moment, there was only stunned silence, and then his mom let out a joyous cry, rushing forward to hug her. “Oh, sweetheart! This is the most wonderful news! Look at you—how far along are you? I can’t believe it!”

Dieter’s dad, who usually kept his emotions under wraps, pulled Dieter into a hug, his voice thick with pride. “Son, this is incredible. I can’t tell you how happy I am for you. I’m not sure if you remember this, but there was a time when I wasn’t sure you’d ever get your life together, let alone settle down.”

Dieter blinked, caught off guard by his dad’s words. “Thanks, Dad. That means a lot.” He hesitated, swallowing hard before speaking again. “I know I’ve been a mess, but… I’m really excited about this. I want to do it right.”

His father clapped him on the shoulder, his expression warm. “You’ve already done right by me. You’ve grown up, Dieter, more than I ever thought possible. And now you’re going to be a dad. I couldn’t be prouder.”

They all settled into the living room, Dieter’s mom already buzzing with plans. “Okay, so tell me everything! When’s the due date? How are you feeling? Have you thought about names yet? We have to start planning—oh, and the nursery! We’ll need to paint, get a crib—”

Dieter held up his hands, laughing. “Mom, slow down. You’re going to choke yourself on your own saliva with how fast you’re going. One thing at a time.”

She laughed, waving him off but nodding. “Okay, okay. But this is just… it’s all so exciting. I’ve been waiting for this day for so long, and now it’s finally happening.”

Dieter’s wife smiled, feeling the warmth of Dieter’s mom’s excitement wash over her. “Thank you. Really, I’m so glad we get to share this with you. It’s been a lot to take in, but having you both here means the world.”

Dieter’s mom squeezed her hand, her eyes filled with emotion. “You’re not without parents completely, you know that, right? You’ve got us now. We’re going to be right here with you, every crazy, wonderful moment.”

She nodded, fighting back tears. “I’m so grateful for that. You have no idea.”

Dieter’s dad leaned in, his voice quieter but no less heartfelt. “And I mean it, Dieter. I see the way you are with her, how much you’ve grown. You’ve got this, both of you. And I know you’re going to be amazing parents.”

As they continued to talk, laugh, and make plans, one thing stood out among them– they knew there was so much ahead—so many unknowns, so many firsts—but for now, it was enough to just be together and celebrate this beautiful news.

–

After spending a few hours basking in the joy and warmth of Dieter’s parents, they knew the next step was sharing the news with the rest of the world. It felt like another hurdle, one they were both eager and anxious to jump. They drove back home, feeling the weight of their secret beginning to lift. 

Once they were settled on their couch, they knew it was time to tell Dieter’s manager. Dieter pulled out his phone and scrolled through his contacts, glancing over at his wife. “Ready?”

She nodded, though a nervous flutter still twisted in her stomach. “Yeah. Let’s do it.”

Dieter hit the call button, putting it on speaker. His manager picked up on the second ring, his voice chipper and businesslike. “Dieter, my man! What’s up? You ready to talk about the next big project? We’ve got offers coming in like crazy.”

Dieter laughed, exchanging a look with his wife. “Hey, uh, about that… we’ve got something to tell you. It’s kind of a big deal.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and then his manager’s voice dropped, curious and cautious. “Oh God, are you in trouble again? Do I need to get a lawyer on the line?”

“No, no, nothing like that,” Dieter said quickly, his grin wide. “Actually, it’s the opposite of trouble.”

His wife jumped in, smiling as she spoke. “We’re having a baby.”

The line went quiet for a beat, and then his manager erupted in a cheer. “What? Oh my God! Are you serious? This is amazing! Bravo’s having a baby! You two, this is incredible.”

They laughed, feeling the enthusiasm radiating through the phone. “Yeah, we’re serious,” Dieter said. “We’re excited, and we wanted to let you know before it goes public.”

His manager was still buzzing, the excitement palpable. “You’re going to break the internet with this. But listen, you’ve got to be prepared. This is going to be huge news—your fans, the media, everyone’s going to go nuts. Some good, some bad, you know how it is. But honestly, this is the best news I’ve heard all year.”

They chatted for a few more minutes, exchanging congratulations and discussing the logistics of managing the media frenzy that would inevitably follow. Once they hung up, Dieter turned to her, his eyes bright. “You ready to tell the world?”

She nodded, and together, they crafted a simple but heartfelt post for social media. They chose a candid photo taken that morning, with Dieter’s hand resting protectively over her small bump, both of them smiling with unfiltered joy. The caption read: Our greatest adventure yet. Baby Bravo coming soon.

They hit ‘share,’ and within moments, the post began to explode. Likes, comments, and shares flooded in at a speed that was almost overwhelming. Messages of congratulations poured in from friends, fans, and fellow celebrities. The overwhelming support was heartwarming, and they found themselves caught up in the happiness of it all.

But as the notifications kept coming, there were, of course, some that stung. Dieter scrolled through, his brow furrowing at the inevitable wave of negativity from the corners of his fanbase that couldn’t handle change.

“She’s probably just using him for fame. Classic.”

“Guess Dieter’s fun days are officially over.”

“He doesn’t deserve this. What about all the times he said he didn’t want kids?”

Dieter sighed, shaking his head as he turned off the screen. “I knew there’d be some backlash, but damn. People can be ruthless.”

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her own emotions in check. “I mean, I expected some of it, but it still hurts. I just thought… I don’t know, that people would be happy for us.”

Dieter pulled her into his side, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. “Hey, don’t let them get to you. They don’t know us. They don’t know what we’ve been through to get here. This is our moment, not theirs.”

She nodded, leaning into his comfort. “I know, it’s just… I guess I didn’t expect people to be so… mean. I thought this would be different.”

Dieter kissed her temple, his touch gentle. “Some people will never be happy, babe. But look at all the love we’ve got here.” He pulled up the comments from their closest friends, the ones who knew them beyond the headlines. Messages of support, love, and shared joy filled the screen, reminding them of the people who truly mattered.

“Look at this one,” Dieter said, reading aloud. “‘I always knew you’d be the best parents. Baby Bravo is lucky to have you both.’” He smiled, scrolling down. “And this one—‘I’m so proud of you guys. Can’t wait to meet the little one.’”

She smiled, letting the warmth of those messages push away the sting of the negativity. “I guess we have to focus on that, huh?”

“Exactly,” Dieter said, squeezing her close. “This is our family. Our life. And no one gets to take that away from us.”

They spent the rest of the evening curled up together, ignoring the noise of the outside world and focusing on the love that poured in from those who truly understood. Their phones continued to buzz, and the news spread quickly, but for now, it was just the two of them, dreaming about their future with the baby they were already so deeply in love with.

A few weeks had passed since their announcement, and life had begun to settle into a new kind of normal. 

They were still receiving messages of congratulations, along with the occasional snarky comment, but the love outweighed the negativity by miles. 

Dieter and his wife had embraced this next phase with open hearts, pouring over baby books, setting up the nursery, and spending quiet moments together, dreaming about the future.

One night, as they sat in the nursery—still half-finished, with paint samples and swatches scattered everywhere—Dieter was busy assembling a crib, grumbling softly as he fumbled with the instructions. His wife sat cross-legged on the floor, watching him with a soft smile, one hand resting on her belly.

“Are you sure you don’t want to wait for your dad to help with that?” she teased, noting his intense focus and the stray bolts lying around.

Dieter looked up, smirking. “Nah, I’ve got it. Besides, I’ve got to prove I can put something together that’s not going to collapse on us. I mean, it’s literally a crib. If I can do this, I can do anything.”

She laughed, watching as he finally managed to fit the pieces together, looking far too proud of himself. He stood back, admiring his handiwork before turning to her, his smile broad and genuine. “See? Told you I’d figure it out.”

She patted the spot beside her on the floor, and he sat down, pulling her into his side. They sat there quietly for a moment, both gazing at the crib—the first tangible piece of their new life together.

“Can you believe this is happening?” she murmured, her voice soft with wonder. “Sometimes it still feels like a dream.”

Dieter nodded, his hand drifting to rest over her bump. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been in a lot of weird dreams, but this… this is the best one. And it’s real.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat against her cheek. “We’re going to be okay, aren’t we?”

He turned to kiss her forehead, his lips lingering for a moment. “We already are, baby. And it’s only going to get better.”

They stayed like that for a while, wrapped up in the promise of what was to come—messy, beautiful, and entirely theirs.

[wolverinesleftclaw]

Hey sweetheart! 😘 I hope I can ask for an Elijah Mikaelson imagine where you both fell in love during the events in Mystic Falls, even though he never wanted to show feelings again, but he couldn't help when he met you. So you started dating and he's always making sure you're okay and it's all just great. That changes when Klaus comes to town and sees you with Elijah. He kidnaps you to hurt his brother and Elijah gets furious. He finds you, but you're pretty hurt and barely alive, so he needs to make a decision and turns you in the end. After you wake up he's there for you and promises to be with you forever and you're accepting your new life ?

Hope this is okay with you 🫶🏼

Save Me

18+ —— (masterlist)

He was going to be your downfall. You already knew that, but what you didn’t expect was for you’re fate to be in his brothers hands.

⋆˚✿˖° Thank you for the request my love @talesofreading ! I literally spent days working on this for you so i sincerely hope you love and enjoy every second of it. I also left it open for a second part of you wish <3 ⋆˚✿˖°

warnings: violence, mentions of kidnapping, Elijah being stubborn, Klaus being Klaus, possessive!Elijah, no mention of y/n, angst, heartbreak, biting, kinda beefy!elijah (i just always imagine him actually towering over my ocs), power dynamic, seems unfinished but i rly wanna write a second part lol

You had grown up in mystic falls you’re whole life, the quiet town where nothing ever happened. Well that was bullshit, the whole town crawled with the worlds most dangerous creatures. You had found out about Vampires after your best friend Elena started dating Stefan Salvatore then you heard about his less charming douche bag brother Damon and decided to stay away from them as a whole. Subsequently because Elena and you had been attached at the hip since preschool you didn’t have to interact with them but you sure did get filled in on all the gossip. Which was why you were currently in the car on your way to the lockwood mansion with her. Apparently the latter were on a mission to kill elena’s freako look alike great something grandma.

“this sucks” you said looking over at Elena who was driving the car — “we literally live in a town of vampires, werewolf’s and witches and the two of us are just human” you added

“yeah well i think i’d rather be human than a vampire” Elena declared stubbornly

“you know i think i have to agree because we both know that Stefan and Damon are going to do a terrible job at killing Katherine and if you were a vampire i think she’d make your life eternally miserable” you responded just as you pulled up to the Lockwood mansion. “i am so not dressed for the occasion” you muttered under your breath eyeing your oversized sweatpants and spaghetti strap tang top, you barley had time to put your shoes on before Elena was pulling you out of the house. you wrapped your arms around your body as Elena pulled you through crowds of people into the mansion. You and Elena quickly found bonnie and Jeremy quietly talking amongst themselves in the corner. Unfortunately you couldn’t get yourself to care about the conversation going on in front of you mainly because of the chill running down your spine at the sight of a man in a jester mask staring right back at you. You blinked and the man was gone just as Elena cried out in pain.

~~~~

“I can’t believe Katherine did that to you” you rushed as you tried to keep up with Elena. The night had only gotten worse and when everything was said and done Elena was a bloody mess and you were freezing.

“honestly, i’m surprised you think she wouldn’t do this to me” Elena retorted storming to her car.

you followed closely behind, “okay well don’t get mad with me it’s not my fault that you almost died” you argued back crossing your arms over your chest. “i’m sorry okay? it’s just… she’s only doing this because she’s in love with Stefan” Elena sighed.

you saw the same man from earlier with the jester mask walk up behind Elena. You’re eyes widened in worry “Elena watch out” you yelled as you ran forward to push the man away from your friend. He grabbed you and threw you against the car slamming your head into the door.

~~~

When you wake up the first thing you notice is the rope around your arms and legs. You quickly try to get out of them but fail miserably.

“Stop trying to get out of the ropes. It’ll never work” a brunette said as she walked into the room. “who are you?” you asked flinching as she walked towards you and bent down.

“my names rose.” she responded voice dead “you weren’t supposed to be with the girl” she said sadly, undoing your restraints.

“where is Elena, what do you want with her” you shook as you replied.

“it’s not what we want. it’s what he wants” she said as she looked away from you — “who’s he?” you asked lowly, she moved her head back to face you and replied “Elijah”

~~~

“oh my god you’re okay” Elena said as she rushed towards you when rose took you into the other room. “yea i’m okay lena” you smiled sadly.

“he’s here. this was a mistake” a man rushed out as he paced around the room. “Trevor in order to get our freedom we must give him the girl. This is no mistake” the woman demanded grabbing the man to a stop. “I will bring him here, watch the girls.” she asserted as she walked out of the room.

“I’m not going to make it out of here am i?” you sighed trying to fight the tears in your eyes as you looked forward towards the covered up windows.

“hey, no don’t say that. I’m going to do everything i can to make sure we both get out here alive” Elena reassured you as she held you, you rested your head on her shoulder and sighed out a breath. The weight of this situation coming crashing down on you. While you both were human, Elena was more important to the supernatural world than you would ever be. You also knew if it came down to it Stefan and Damon would leave you to die if it meant saving her. You didn’t resent her for that, you were happy she had somebody who would do anything for her, you just wished you had someone who would do the same for you.

Your head snapped up at the sound of footsteps, your breathing became shallow as Elena pulled you onto your feet with her. You were terrified, you had no idea who Elijah was and from roses reaction to him you could tell he probably wasn’t going to be a saint.

In the blink of an eye you were throw behind Elena’s back as a man took place in front of her. You saw what you would say was the most handsome man you’d ever seen. You kicked yourself. you shouldn’t be thinking that when your best friends life was on the line, but you couldn’t help but notice the way his hair fell perfectly down around his handsome face, the powerful stance in which he stood. You noted he was dressed in a suit which probably cost more than your whole life together. His eyes drew you in from behind Elena and you couldn’t look away. If this was the way you went out you wouldn’t complain.

“human. It’s impossible” he breathed out in shock. “hello there” he smirked, you noticed his gaze went past Elena and right into your eyes. He was talking to you. why would he be talking to you? You felt your heartbeat quicken and you were sure you’d held your breath way beyond your lungs capability. You quickly shifted your gaze downwards biting your lip, suddenly remembering your lack of clothing moving closer to Elena.

“we have a long journey ahead of us we should be going” Elijah says grabbing Elena’s arm and turning them around.

“And the girl? What should we do with her.” Rose asked from across the room.

Elijah’s gaze moved to meet yours again. “leave her be. Do not harm her.” he ordered rose.

Elena looked at you with a pleading look before crying out towards rose “please, don’t let him take me.”

Elijah let go of Elena’s arm pushing her towards rose. “one last piece of business before we go”

Elijah stalks towards Trevor who shrinks down in fear “you have no idea how long i’ve waited for this day” he sputtered out. You noticed how Elijah held such an air of power around himself. You wondered how old he was, surely he was a vampire. You tuned out the rest of the conversation watching as Elijah ruled the two vampires in the room with just his presence. You suddenly hear rose cry out in sorrow as Elijah smacks Trevor’s head clean from his body. You noticed that Elijah had moved his body so he was in front of you, like he was intentionally blocking you from the scene in front. Your face paled as he grabbed both you and Elena dragging you to the front of the house. “who else is here” he demanded towards rose who shook her head “no one”

His grip tightened around your arm as he pushed Elena towards rose keeping you firmly planted next to him. Damon and Stefan were playing games with him. That probably wasn’t a smart idea you thought. You felt your body being ripped away from Elijah’s grasp and slammed up against a wall. Your head hitting the wall hard. Too hard. You cried out in pain and shook as the dizziness came in waves until everything went black.

~~~

When you woke up you took note of the fact you were still in the house, except it was night time now. You brushed the dirt off of your pants as you stood up and looked around. “Elena…” you yelled out wincing when you remembered that probably wasn’t a good idea. You were answered back with silence as you made your way towards the front of the stairs. You gasped as your eyes landed on a very dead Elijah, you walked quietly towards his seemingly sleeping body. Just as you reached out to pull the coat rack from his body he awoke with a gasp of his own. Anger displayed upon his face as he ripped the coat rack from his chest and threw it across the room at a very inhuman speed. He cracked his neck and fixed his jacket before his gaze landed on you.

“what did you do?” he roared taking large steps towards you. For every one step he took you had to take three steps back. “i — i didn’t do anything” you felt your face pale and mouth dry with fear. “y — you were dead” you stuttered trying to look anywhere but his angry eyes. “for centuries now. where did the girl go?” he demanded looking you up and down as if he was trying to decide what to do with you. “i really don’t know, i just woke up on the floor. I’m assuming Stefan and Damon took her… they left me, no way they actually left me here” you rambled out as your back hit the wall. You realized you had nowhere to go as Elijah’s frame blocked you in. You noticed how tall he was, you had always been short it didn’t take much for someone to be taller than you, but Elijah; he was tall. You stood just below his shoulders, your small frame feeling even smaller as he stood in front of you.

“what wonderful friends you have” he implied looking down from your eyes to your neck where he could see the blood rushing between your veins. “they aren’t my friends. only elena is” you mumbled shifting on your feet. “hm. we should get going then” he declared swiftly pulling his jacket from his shoulders and holding it out to you.

~~

“do you always kidnap teenage girls?” you asked looking out of the window in Elijah’s car and wrapping his jacket tighter around. “do you consider this kidnapping?” he asked with a cocked head. “yes i do.” you stated firmly looking over at him “do you not?”. he looked fully at you now, “i consider this me doing you a favor, saving a poor defenseless girl from an abandoned home, to which your own friends didn’t save you from. Now i could have done what i originally intended and drained every single drop of blood from your body and left you there, but i didn’t. So No i would not say this is considered kidnapping” he replied putting his eyes back on the road. “why didn’t you kill me?” you pondered fidgeting with your fingers in your lap. you noticed his fingers tightened their grip around the steering wheel as he said “there’s something awfully interesting about you.”

~~

From that moment on you and Elijah had been inseparable. He told you about his desire to not be seen in mystic falls just yet. So you returned home and acted as if some friendly stranger gave you a ride home.

It hadn’t taken long for you to fall head over heels for Elijah, but you noticed his hesitance when it came to you. How he never shared too much about himself. How he absolutely insisted you never speak of him to anyone, as if he was scared. You had learned he was one of the oldest vampires to ever exist. A thousand years old, he was strong, and wise and he surely had a copious amount of enemies. You knew all of that should have scared you away but you found it only intriguing you more and more each day. He handled you with such care, as if the smallest of things would break you and he’d lose you forever. Yet he never said what you wanted him to say.

It had been weeks since the day in the abandoned house and Elijah had finally made his presence known to mystic falls. You especially enjoyed pretending you didn’t spend all your time with the man. You knew in your gut Elijah feels the same way about you that you do him. It was just getting him to act on it that proved to be hard.

When you saw him at the founders party all dressed in his grey suit and hair slicked back, you didn’t care who noticed you decided that you had had enough of pining over him.

“so, Mr. Smith?” you quoted raising your champagne glass to your lips to hide your smile. “not everyone can be privy to my actual identity sweetheart” he replied looking down at you. You noticed his eyes raking over your form. “you look absolutely astonishing tonight” he said voice husky as his gaze returned to yours. You almost moaned at the tone of his voice. This was what you meant, you knew he was attracted to you but he never acted on it. You figured your best bet would be to show him what he was missing. “do i?” you questioned him with a smile “i thought you’d like this dress” you winked at him as his eyes darkened. “I didn’t think you would be bold enough to test your little theory here” he smiled licking his lips before raising his glass of champagne. “what theory would that be?” you pushed trying to get him to say it for himself but before he could answer a hand wrapped around your shoulder.

“Fancy seeing you here, my, my you look amazing” Damon stated, you winced out of his grasp moving away from him. You noticed the deadly look on Elijah’s face as he stared Damon down. “Damon i do believe it’s time we have a chat just the two of us” he said through gritted teeth. The two disappearing upstairs before you could say anything

~~

You sat a the bar picking at the fruit tray when Elijah approached you again. “I’m sorry sweetheart, i had to take care of something” he said moving to stand behind you. “did you kill him” you accused taking a bite out of a strawberry. “No i did not, I should have.” he replied turning you in your seat so you were facing him. “why” you questioned looking up at him. “because i do not like the idea of him ever looking at you again.” Elijah moved his head down so he was level with your ear, “or anyone for that matter” he muttered moving your hair out of the way, inhaling your scent. “i know this is what you want, it’s what i want too. But it would be selfish of me to subject you to the life i live.” he confessed before he grabbed you and in the blink of an eye you were in a different room. “you don’t get to decide what’s right or wrong for me Elijah” you argued back pulling out of his embrace. “why are you scared, I know it’s not the reason you just gave. I know that because for months i have been living as apart of your life, i know you think giving me some noble reason will deter me from continuing this but it won’t, so what’s the real reason?” you semi shouted at him, you were angry and you had every right to be. He’d been playing that game since the day you met him, where he acted as if he wanted you and then decided he couldn’t be with you. “Because i have lost every single person i have ever loved!” he roared back with tears in his eyes “i have had every person i have ever cared for ripped away from me, for a millennium i have been dealt constant heartbreak. I would be a fool if i left myself care for another being ever again, and i would be eternally selfish if i let you in and you died at the hand of my enemies.. or worse me. But you have infiltrated my very being, every thought, every feeling is because of you, so i cannot just let you walk away, because no where is far enough for me to not crave you, you’re scent is engraved in my senses and i cannot stop it.” he confessed moving toward you, he lifted his arm and ran his knuckles down your face as he gazed lovingly into your eyes. you leaned into his hand and looked up at him through your eyelashes. He was staring at your lips, this was new he’d never done that before. Elijah leaned down until his lips were just above your own “can i kiss you” he asked against your lips. You nodded your head vigorously as he entwined his lips with yours. His lips are softer than anything you’ve ever known. The feeling in your chest was explosive, spreading all throughout your body. He tilted your head upward biting your lip in the process. you let out a moan of approval, moving your hands to lay underneath his suit jacket. You could feel every inch of his muscles tensing underneath your touch. You loved it, craved for more. His hand moved from your face into your hair, bunching it up and pulling you closer to him. You loved every second of this moment, how raw and beautiful it truly was.

When Elijah pulled away from the kiss he rested his forehead on yours, out of breath you closed your eyes.

~~

Elijah had entrusted you with the secret of the curse placed upon his brother Klaus. You were sleeping one night when he came to see you, telling you that Elena would need to be sacrificed in order for him to kill his brother. Of course you asked him if he was sure he wanted to do this and he was. So tonight he was attending a dinner party at the Salvatore mansion in order to keep and eye on Damon. You had told him you thought it was a bad idea, that you got a bad feeling from it, but he insisted he would be alright. Now it was two days later and you hadn’t heard or seen from him. You were currently on a mission to find him when you entered the Salvatore mansion to find all your so called friends having some type of meeting. “where is Elijah” you announced as you walked in. “so you are sleeping with him” Damon said back smirking as he turned around to face her. “Yeah Damon i am, you know if you were going to have such an issue with it maybe you shouldn’t have left me for dead” you said walking more into the room. “well he’s not here, so no need for you to be here any longer” he dismissed her. You looked at Elena over his shoulder meeting her gaze. She quickly moved her eyes towards the basement door. You nodded your head and turned to walk away when Alaric called out to you. “hey wait up” he called after you following you outside.

“you’ve literally never talked to me before Alaric, so unless your going to tell me where Elijah is don’t start now” you said not stopping your stride heading to your car.

“cmon now love i just wanted a chat. seems we have to do this the hard way” Alaric replied grabbing your arm and slamming your head into your car window.

~~~

you awoke to a shooting pain in your side as you stirred. “welcome back to the land of the living love” a man said crouching in-front of you “i’m getting really tired of people knocking me out” you murmured groggily.

“ah yes, you see i’ve heard my brother was plotting my demise, and since i’ve got more at stake than him i figured an eye for an eye.” klaus said reaching to grab something above your head. His hand returned with a knife, your eyes widened as he covered your mouth and stabbed you in the thigh as your screams muffled. “now living for a thousand years you learn a few things about torture. except your human and you can’t handle as much as i’d like.” he said twisting the knife, the pain you felt was white hot and expanded through your whole body. “So i’ll resort to draining all but a drop of blood from you until Elijah comes to find you.” he said with a wicked smirk, grabbing your hair and tilting your head back. His whole face changed, you remember seeing Elijah’s vampire face which you loved but Klaus’ was just outright scary. You felt his sharp teeth rip into your carotid artery, you felt every drop of blood leave your body. The excruciating pain of his teeth in your skin. You head felt heavy as it rolled to the side when he finally pulled away. “cmon love the games are just beginning.” he taunted.

~~

when Elijah had woken the first thing he demanded of Elena was to bring him to you. When she failed to find you red flags raised in his mind. You would never disappear and all he could think was you had hurt yourself in the process of trying to find him. what he wasn’t expecting was for his brother to have taken you captive. when Elijah found you, you were a bloody mess. Crimson red everywhere, you say in your own puddle of blood. Shallow breathing was all he heard as he rushed forward and held your face in his hand. “my love” he whispered trying to wake you up.

You failed to wake up after the fifth time he tried. You had bruises and cuts all over you. The wounds on your thighs bleeding the most. When you whimpered in response to him shifting you he was glad for a sign you were alive.

“Elijah” you cried out unable to move “i can’t it hurts so much” you reached out to grab his arm as he picked you up and speed the two of you to his apartment.

“i’m so sorry my love” he cried as he held your hand. “for what?” you asked weakly wiping his tears away from his eyes. “for not protecting you. I can give you my blood and it will heal you.”he said moving your body to lay down. in the process of moving you the wounds he had patched in your thighs had opened, resulting in you losing blood. Again you had become faint and in and out of consciousness.

Elijah had managed to get his blood down your throat but he knew he would lose you. he had waited to long to feed it to you. Within the next minute he whispered a quick apology into your ear and snapped your neck.

[bobohu4eva]

Messy

Part 1/2

Characters: Reader x Baekhyun

Genre: Enemies(ish) to lovers, roommates, smut

WC: 7k

Masterlist

“I swear to god..” You mumbled to yourself, walking out into your living room to find it once again trashed by your asshole roommate, Baekhyun. 

You started picking up the beer cans from the night before, annoyed but not surprised by his lack of consideration. This was how a lot of Saturday mornings would go. You’d be kept up late by Baekhyun and his friend’s loud laughter and music, and the next morning your kitchen and living room would be left a mess of empty beer cans, boxes of food, and whatever else he and his friends happened to drag in. On particularly unlucky nights, like the one prior, you’d have to listen to him “entertain” a lady guest as well. Quite loudly. 

It was obnoxious. When you had first allowed Baekhyun to move in it was because you desperately needed someone to help out with rent, and he just happened to show up. He liked the place, and had the money, so you let him move in. But things went downhill quickly when the semester started and he started inviting people over for parties every other weekend, leaving your home a mess in the process. And he sure as hell wouldn’t clean it up himself, at least not until days later, which was too long for you. So you had to spend your Saturday mornings cleaning up his messes. 

Luckily he wasn’t dirty, just messy. On days when he wasn’t having people over he was actually fairly clean, it was when he’d throw his little parties and get drunk that he’d leave it so bad. But it was getting really, really, old. 

You’d finally gathered a majority of the beer cans when you heard a door open and a small dark haired girl emerged from Baekhyun’s bedroom, obviously still in last night's clothes. You didn’t recognize her, as per usual. Baekhyun rarely took the same girl home twice. It made sense that he was a fuckboy, despite how much you hated to admit it, he was hot, even if in a very extra and obnoxious way. He kept his hair in a mullet, and recently he’d even added red streaks for some extra flair. Even the way he dressed with his skin tight jeans and colorful shirts was annoying to you. 

Living with him was slowly starting to eat away at you, if you were being completely honest with yourself. You didn’t like him. Not at all. Having to live in the same space as someone you disliked so much was terrible. The worst part was that you knew he didn’t care at all. 

Once you’d finally gotten the majority of the mess cleaned up and had the living room looking half decent again, you heard his door again and this time it was him who stepped out into the living room. 

He looked around, acknowledging you and the now clean apartment, before grabbing himself a glass of water. 

“You’re not even gonna thank me this time for cleaning up after your shit?” 

He just stared at you for a second before shaking his head, rolling his eyes, and turning to walk back towards his room. 

“You’re such an asshole, you know that right?” 

“Yeah sure whatever, I'm too hungover for this.” He said before retreating back into his room and closing the door behind him. . 

As angry as you were, you knew arguing with him was useless. He simply didn’t care if what he did bothered you and had no intention to change his behavior at all. He always said you just needed to learn to chill. That you were too high strung, and maybe he was right, you were never good at dealing with messes, and it probably bothered you more than it should’ve, but it was also just him and the way he acted in general. When you’d first met him he didn’t have that stupid mullet yet, and he had just moved into town for university. You actually thought that he was sweet, and above all else, clean. You thought that maybe you two could even learn to get along fairly well. But when he started making friends and going to parties he grew more and more aloof, until he was nothing more than another messy, asshole fuckboy in your eyes. 

You retreated back to your room, avoiding seeing or talking to him for the rest of the day. 

Usually you just didn’t speak to one another. If he was in the common space when you needed to use it you’d simply put in headphones and try to ignore him. Oftentimes he would just go with it, leaving you unbothered as he did whatever it was he was doing, but other days he would make it his mission to piss you off. 

Later that same week, one of those days came. You could hear him watching TV in the living room, while you needed to make dinner. You were tired of waiting, so you decided to just go do it and pay him no attention. 

At first he left you alone, but when you started cooking the bacon for your carbonara he, unfortunately, appeared next to you. 

“That smells so good.” 

You ignored him. 

“Wanna make enough for two?” 

“Not a chance Baekhyun.” 

He huffed, giving you his best fake pout. “You’re always so mean to me.” 

It was always like this. This stupid little game he liked to play with you.

“Yeah because you’re an asshole. Make your own food.” 

Baekhyun just giggled, clearly pleased that he was succeeding in his mission to annoy you. “But you know I can’t cook for shit, come on please?” As the last word came out he leaned forwards, blocking your view of the pan with his face. 

“You’re getting bacon grease in your hair.” 

He snapped his head up, running his hands through his hair in concern and you scoffed. 

“But I haven’t eaten since this morning and it smells so goood come onnn y/n.” He whined. Why did he always have to be so dramatic? 

“Not my problem.” You spoke as you took the bacon off the stove, getting your noodles ready. 

He caught your eyes again and you made note of the mischievous glint they showed you. He looked at you for a little while before speaking again.

“What if I promise I won’t have anyone over this weekend?” 

That caught you off guard. Was he really bargaining with you right now, for some damn noodles?

“You want it that bad?” 

“So do we have a deal then?” He smirked. 

You thought about it, and at the end of the day making some extra pasta was still far less annoying than spending hours cleaning up after him. 

“Fine.” 

Baekhyun grinned and made his way back to the couch, humming happily. You rolled your eyes as you got out more bacon. 

You were grateful that he at least left you alone while you were cooking. When the pasta was done you set his bowl down on the coffee table before walking away towards your bedroom door. 

“Where are you going?” 

You turned around and raised an eyebrow at him. “To my room. To eat in peace.” 

“Aw, really?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I thought you liked this show too.” He said as he gestured towards the TV. 

He was right, it was one of your favorite shows even. But you’d still rather watch it by yourself in your room. 

“And?” 

“Come sit and eat with me.” He said it like it was the most normal thing ever.

You let out a dry laugh. “No way.” 

“Why not?” He pouted.

“You’re just gonna be annoying the whole time and talk over the show. And it’s not like we’re friends.” 

“I promise I won’t talk! Just sit down, you know the couch is comfier than your desk chair anyway and your noodles are getting cold.” 

You sighed, but sat down on the opposite end of the couch. It was much comfier. If he hadn’t been out there you would’ve been anyway, watching the same thing. As long as he didn’t talk, you could just act like he wasn’t there. Hopefully.

To your relief he actually stayed true to his word, too busy devouring his pasta to speak anyway. You still felt incredibly awkward sitting there with him. You never did this. You couldn’t even remember the last time you two had a meal together. His presence was enough to make you uneasy and when a sex scene started playing in the show, you got up, abandoning your bowl of pasta on the coffee table. 

“Are you seriously leaving because of a little sex scene?” Baekhyun laughed. “You’re such a prude.” 

“I am not a prude! I’m just not watching that with you.” 

“You so are though.” 

“My sex life is none of your business.” 

“You don’t have one anyway.” He almost sang out, you clearly hear the smirk on his lips, mocking you.

He was having way too much fun with this. You wanted to smack the stupid grin off his stupid perfect face so bad. 

“You don’t know that.” 

“Oh yes I do, you’ve never even brought a guy home before.” He chuckled. 

“Just cause I’m not a whore like you doesn’t mean I’m barren.”

He let out a little fake gasp, but you knew better than to think he was actually offended by that. “Whore is such a strong word, I prefer to think of myself as someone who likes to indulge in the various physical pleasures life has to offer.” 

“So you’re a manwhore.” 

“So you’re a prude.” 

You groaned, and he was still just grinning smugly up at you from his position on the couch. 

“I’m not a prude.” 

He stood up, standing himself directly in front of you, close enough that you felt yourself stepping backwards but he kept moving closer, until you found yourself trapped between him and the wall. 

“Well then bring a guy home sometime and maybe I’ll believe you.” He challenged, the mischievous sparkle in his eyes never failing to provoke you. “I’ve never had any trouble getting girls to come home with me.” 

He said it with such a gross lopsided smile, you had to fight the urge to throw your noodles at him. 

“I know, Baekhyun, because I unfortunately have to hear it every time.” 

 “And you listen? Weirdo.” He wrinkled his nose up in disgust, but you knew he didn’t actually care if you heard. “But I guess I can’t say I’m surprised since you don’t seem to have sex at all or if you do it’s incredibly boring.” 

At this point you were fuming, and Baekhyun was having a fantastic time. This was exactly what he loved to do. To get you all riled up, arguing with him about something he didn’t even really care about, because he knew it would get a rise out of you. He was surprised again and again by how easy it was to get you like this. 

He thought it was so cute. 

“I do not have boring sex!” 

He scoffed, clearly unconvinced. 

He knew you were bullshitting and so did you. Truth be told though, you didn’t have boring sex, because you hadn’t had sex at all since he moved in, or even in the months before that. There’d been a pretty gnarly breakup and you hadn’t felt comfortable going out and meeting new people yet. But of course Baekhyun knew nothing about that. 

“Well if you ever wanna know what good sex is like, you know where to find me.” He said casually, smiling as he twirled a strand of your hair around one pretty finger of his, watching as it fell back to frame your face. And with that, he turned and walked into his room, shutting the door behind him with a big stupid smirk on his annoyingly gorgeous face. 

For a minute you just stood there. Your brain was still trying to process what he had said, and no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself you heard wrong, you hadn’t. You heard him loud and clear. 

There was no way he could actually want to sleep with you though, right? He had to just be saying that to get to you. The thought of doing anything like that with him was something you vehemently fought off. Of course he was attractive, even if it was in a very obnoxious way, but as much as you hated to admit it, you couldn’t help being attracted to him. He was just hot. 

But you were better than that, you told yourself, and either way, he was too much of an asshole for you to even consider it. 

That Friday evening you let yourself relax knowing that at least you wouldn’t be bothered by him and his friends making a mess of the place. And what a relief it was. After a nice relaxing bath and maybe one more glass of wine than necessary, you found yourself falling fast asleep, free of any dread of the morning to come. 

When you woke up you felt refreshed and when you remembered the deal you’d made you let out a sigh of relief, smiling to yourself. You’d be able to get up and get ready and make yourself a nice breakfast in a clean kitchen. He didn’t seem to be awake yet, so you’d finally be able to have a peaceful Saturday morning. 

After washing your face and putting on your favorite hoodie you turned the corner from the hallway where the bedrooms were towards the kitchen and living room. 

You felt all the joy drain from your body when your eyes met the room in front of you. 

The coffee table was barely visible beneath the blanket of takeout containers and beer cans, and the couch was littered with dirty napkins. His guest didn’t seem to care to take their shoes off either, judging by the amount of dirt stuck in the carpet, and the longer you stood there, the more you noticed the unpleasant smell of seafood that sat out too long coming from the dirty dishes all over the kitchen. 

The anger that filled your body was more intense than on any other morning. You had made a deal. This was the one day you were supposed to get to relax. One morning to relax and not deal with his shit. That was all you wanted. 

You briefly considered banging on his door and demanding that he clean up his mess but you knew that wouldn’t work. He’d just laugh at you for being ‘dramatic‘. As much as you hated it you still wanted to try to have a decent morning, so you got to work cleaning it all up. 

The beer cans, the takeout containers, and the smelly piles of dishes felt like they were mocking you, and the more you did the more you realized that you were still pissed and this time you wouldn’t just get over it. When you finally had everything clean and made your breakfast you sat down and turned on a show to watch as you ate. 

You turned around when you heard yawning, narrowing your eyes at your roommate. 

“Looks nice in here.” He commented. 

“You better be fucking kidding” You felt the anger rising again. 

He shrugged nonchalantly. He once again didn’t care.

You watched as he went to make himself a coffee and you stood up and walked over to him.

“We made a deal.” You were pissed. You hoped your tone would be enough for him to know not to fuck with you but that’s wasn’t the case. 

He just shrugged again. “We were gonna go to a buddies house but something came up. Sorry princess.” 

When he went to put a hand on your shoulder in mock solidarity for the stress you had to endure on his behalf, you lost it, yanking his arm away from yourself and going off on him. 

“Dont fucking touch me! I’m so tired of you! This was supposed to be the one day I don’t have to deal with this.” 

Baekhyun took a step back, not at all expecting this kind of outburst from you. You hated that you were an angry cryer, and inevitably tears started to spill over as you continued your yelling at him. 

“School is stressful enough and for once I just wanted to be able to relax and you promised you wouldn’t have people over! Do you ever think of anyone but yourself? Are you so self absorbed that you never even consider that someone else lives here too?! You’re such a fucking asshole Byun! You don’t give a shit about anything but yourself!” 

He just stared back, mouth slightly parted in shock, not even fully awake yet.  At this point you were hysterical, fully crying as you kept pushing the words out between sobs. 

“You think I’m so uptight and prude but really you’re just an inconsiderate piece of shit. I’m so fucking done with you.” 

And with that, you turned around, going to your room and slamming the door behind you. 

Baekhyun still just stood there, processing your words to him. 

You’d never cried in front of him before, and you felt the embarrassment start to consume you as you curled back up into bed, still crying as you let out the last of your frustrations. You didn’t mean to blow up the way you did, but you’d suppressed so much of your frustration with him, when you finally let it out it was overwhelming.

You never wanted him to see you in a moment of weakness like that, and you could only imagine how crazy he thought you were now. He already thought you were a bit odd for how you got onto him about his messes, you hoped that your outburst would at least help him take you more seriously, though. You wished you didn’t have to care what he thought about you. 

That day Baekhyun didn’t try to engage you any further, and you were grateful. He stayed in his room, and you stayed in yours.  

It took you a whole day to leave your room again. You had waited until you knew he was in his room, and cautiously approached the kitchen, expecting to find some mess of his in there mocking you. However you didn’t find anything of the sort, in fact the whole common space was spotless. When you opened the fridge you saw a box of your favorite cheap white wine, with a note attached. 

“I’m sorry.” 

You gave the box a puzzled look. 

Baekhyun felt bad. For the first time since he’d moved in, he actually felt some remorse for how he treated you. You almost couldn’t believe it. 

The next few days felt incredibly odd to the both of you. Baekhyun actually cleaned more than you did, even doing your dishes if you left them out for more than an hour or two. 

As usual, you didn’t talk to him. Even if the both of you were in the same room. But the strange thing was, he didn’t try to speak to you either. By now he usually would’ve made some dumb joke to piss you off, but he said nothing. 

It was almost a full week later when he finally got the courage to talk to you again. Your birthday was coming up, so he cooked for the both of you, the one meal he knew how to make; mac and cheese. 

You were surprised when he knocked on your door that evening. 

When you opened it for him he wasn’t wearing his usual sarcastic smirk, just a small, slightly nervous looking smile. 

“I made dinner. I thought we could eat together.” 

You looked up at him with a look of confusion. “Why do you want to eat together?” 

“I just thought it might be good for us. You don’t have to talk to me. We can just put on a show and eat in silence.” 

You thought it was a strange request, but you were getting hungry, and he was offering to feed you, so you agreed. 

It was odd seeing Baekhyun in this light, when he wasn’t being obnoxious, and he was actually looking at you and speaking to you with a completely serious look on his face. It did not match the image of the man you were used to, with his loud mouth and flamboyant hair. With how he usually acted it was easy to forget that he was an actual human with thoughts and feelings, no matter the aloof fuckboy front he usually put up. 

Just as he had promised, the both of you sat on the couch in silence and watched the show as you ate your dinner together. He didn’t try to tease you about anything, he just let you eat, until you were finished and he took both of your bowls to the kitchen to wash them. 

You watched as he did the dishes and you realized something. It was almost 9pm on a Friday night. And he didn’t have anyone over. 

Before you could question yourself any further, you blurted it out. “Do you want some wine?” 

He looked up from the dishes, pausing, as if he needed to check that he’d heard correctly. 

“Sure.” 

So you poured two glasses, and you were both back on the couch. You couldn’t help but smile as you took your first sip, because this time you knew there wouldn’t be a mess in the morning. 

You still didn’t understand the sudden shift in his behavior towards you, but that was okay. You assumed that he really was sorry, as the note suggested, he was just too proud to say it out loud yet. The two of you talked a little the more you drank, but not about anything noteworthy. Just polite small talk. 

It was frustrating, because you were coming to realize that it was actually easier to hate him. The less he annoyed you, the more you noticed the little things about him. The sharpness of his jawline in contrast to the soft features of his face. How pretty his hands were. How strong his back looked in a fitted T shirt. 

You needed him to start being obnoxious again. 

The following morning when you were making breakfast your prayers were answered when he appeared behind you in his sleepy state, voice still low and rough.

 “I do hope you’re making enough for both of us.” He grumbled into your ear, resting his chin on your shoulder. 

You turned around, leaving a light slap on his chest. “And if I’m not?”

“Then I guess I’ll have to go to my room again and cry myself back to sleep.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“Don’t roll your eyes at me! You should be thanking me right now.” 

“I should be thanking you? For what?” You scoffed. 

“It’s Saturday morning and everything is clean.” He said proudly, raising his eyebrows and shooting you his best smile.

You gave him a blank stare. “I’m not going to congratulate you for being a decent person. I never should’ve had to clean up after you in the first place.” 

His brows furrowed and a pout formed on his lips. He was just wearing a thin white t-shirt and black sweats but he still looked so good. You really hated it. He had no right to look like that, this early in the day, after rolling right out of bed. He didn’t have his contacts in yet so he was wearing his glasses. You found it silly how someone with such an obnoxiously douchey look could wear such dorky round glasses, but you figured that was why he never wore them outside. It was an interesting contrast to his disheveled black and red hair, and the broadness of his shoulders and chest. As much as he might try to fight it, there were certain things about him that you couldn’t help but find cute. The way his glasses sat on his round little nose, the tired droopiness in his eyes, and the little pout on his pink lips. He was making it very difficult for you to deny him. 

“C’mon please? You know pancakes are my favorite.” 

This wasn’t a battle you were going to win. You didn’t really want to anymore anyway. 

“Fine. It’s too much batter just for me anyway.” 

His face broke into a wide grin and his hand moved up to ruffle your hair. “Thanks princess.” 

You cringed at the unexpected contact, trying your best to conceal your embarrassment. 

The pet name was another thing. You knew that most other girls would be delighted to hear Baekhyun call them that, but to you it just felt like another one of those things he did to get under your skin. It didn’t feel sweet, it felt like you were being mocked, that he was calling you uptight and prissy. You hated it, and he knew you did, which made him want to do it even more. 

He simply made his way over to the couch, plopping himself down happily. You rolled your eyes and continued on with the pancakes.  When they were finished you brought him his plate and when you were about to turn to go to your room you felt his hand on your wrist. 

“Come on, sit down.” 

“Why?”

“Because I wanna eat with you.”

You gave him a look. “Okay, why do you wanna eat with me?” 

He frowned. “Isn’t it a good thing for roommates to have meals together? You’re the one who asked me if I wanted some wine last night.” 

“I should’ve just drank it myself.” You muttered. 

“You know I really am sorry.” 

Your eyes snapped to his face. You found yourself sitting down on the opposite end of the couch. 

“I didn’t realize all that stuff actually bothered you so much, I thought you were just a little extra with all the cleaning and that it was more annoying to you than anything else. I didn’t mean to upset you that bad.” 

He was avoiding eye contact and seemed genuinely remorseful for his behavior, to your complete surprise. 

“Um, thank you. I appreciate it.” You eventually responded weakly.  

“You really meant it all those times you called me an asshole, huh? I never thought you actually disliked me so much.” 

He sounded a bit sad as he said it. You thought it was obvious that you meant it, because why wouldn’t you? Was he just so used to women falling at his feet that he really thought you were still fond of him despite his behavior? 

You sighed. “Yeah. I did mean it. You were really inconsiderate. It was super frustrating.” 

“You know you make it way too easy though.” 

You raised an eyebrow, crossing your arms over your chest. “Make what too easy?”

“Come on y/n you’d get so huffy and puffy about the littlest things it was just fun to get you all riled up. You’re so cute when you’re pissed.” 

You stared at him, dumbfounded. He wasn’t even wearing that usual dumb smirk you’d usually see after he said something like that. He looked completely serious. 

You narrowed your eyes at him and let out a small dry laugh. “Well I’m glad my suffering is at least amusing for you.” 

You absolutely did not want to address the fact that he’s just called you cute. If you let yourself dwell on it you knew you’d only lose your mind. 

He hummed in agreement and you were rolling your eyes at him again. “I’m gonna miss it.” He said. “I wish I could still mess with you like that but I really don’t want you to hate me either.” 

“Since when do you even care how I feel about you?” 

“I always have! I just didn’t realize I annoyed you that bad is all. I thought maybe you just liked arguing with me. I know I love arguing with you, half the time I didn’t even care about whatever it was we were discussing. I just wanted to see you get all heated.” 

He was having a wonderful time. He had a big grin on his still slightly tired face and you knew he meant every word he’d just said. But that also meant that despite what you’d thought in the past, Baekhyun actually did care about your perception of him. It seemed he might even be trying to get on your good side now. 

“Are you really that bored all the time? That you have to bother me?” 

“Come on y/n don’t lie I know you don’t actually hate being around me. If you did, you wouldn't have sat down earlier or offered me the wine last night.” 

You really shouldn’t have offered him that wine.

He was right, but why? You didn’t even fully understand it yourself. Now that he stopped with the messes the most obnoxious part of having him as a roommate was gone. Without that to piss you off, you actually did like talking to him. He was stupid and ridiculous to you most of the time but it was still amusing. 

“You’re a lot more tolerable when you aren’t filling our home with garbage.” 

He smiled even wider. “Well I can’t promise that it’ll never happen again but I’ll try my best to keep it at a minimum if it really bothers you that much.” 

You sighed.  “You know I’m glad you’ve decided to be a little less terrible, but that doesn’t mean I want to be your friend either.” 

That infuriating little pout made its way back to his stupid pretty face.

“Well, then can I make it up to you somehow?” 

Why was he doing this? You never thought he cared about any of this. It made no sense to you that he was suddenly now feeling the need to be considerate after being anything but for months already. 

“I don’t know… why do you even care?”

“Well if you think of anything let me know and I’ll do my best. We live together and I’d really rather not have any hard feelings between us. It makes it weird.” 

Truth be told, Baekhyun really didn’t want to upset you. He thought it was cute and entertaining to mess with you but he thought it was all in good fun and that none of it was that serious. He also just liked having you around. Yes you cleaned, but he also thought you’d made the place look really nice, it always smelled good, and just having another person around was nice, especially when it was a pretty girl. 

Occasionally Baekhyun entertained the thought of trying something with you, but he was still cautious since you were roommates and sex could easily complicate things. He noticed when you wouldn’t wear a bra, or walked around with a big T shirt on, thinking that he wouldn’t be able to tell that you only had underwear on underneath. You liked to be comfortable in your home and never thought twice about what you wore around him, and he knew that, but he still couldn’t help letting his eyes linger a little longer than they should. He found it surprising that you’d never seemed to notice. 

But you had noticed. You just tried your best to ignore it and tell yourself that it didn’t matter. 

You noticed it then too, when his eyes slowly drifted down from yours to your chest when he was done speaking. You never wore a bra to sleep, and you hadn’t bothered putting one on yet this morning. The shirt you wore was quite thin and a little fitted and you knew it left very little to the imagination. 

“I’ll get back to you.” You said, and his eyes shot back up to yours. You almost scoffed, catching yourself just in time. 

You knew how he looked at you at times, and more than anything it just made your blood boil. Doing anything like that with him was a monumentally terrible idea. It had stressed you out enough when he’d made that comment about showing you what good sex was like, you weren’t sure how much more you could take. Especially since you knew he wasn’t actually serious at all. He knew he was a very attractive person and he was just using that as another way to fuck with your head to boost his ego. 

But god did it work. You wished you were immune but that just wasn’t possible. It was infuriating because as much as you disliked him and tried to avoid him there was still a part of you that was drawn to him. You hated to admit it, and you’d refused to in the past, but now that he was being nicer to you, you definitely had a thing for him. Even if it was mostly physical, there were aspects of his personality that you did actually like. Sure he was usually trying to do or say something that would piss you off but you had to admit that he was whitty and oftentimes it was pretty funny too. You could see how he so easily got girls to come home with him every weekend. Not only was he gorgeous he could be incredibly charming as well. 

After finishing your pancakes you retreated back to your room, where you stayed. You really didn’t want to have to face him again, you’d had more than enough of him for the day. 

That evening you felt yourself becoming uneasy as you watched dark storm clouds slowly moving closer through your window. According to your weather app it would be the first big storm of the season, and you felt the dread building within you as the sun began to set. You hated storms, and although you liked this apartment a lot, it was in an older building and it didn’t always feel the most secure when the weather would act up. 

It was well after dark when the rain started and soon you were hiding under your blankets, blasting music through your headphones to try and drown out the sound of the rain and thunder. Unfortunately you could still hear most of it, and worst of all, you could hear the building creaking as the wind blew.

You were still just trying to tune it all out and distract yourself when you felt a wet spot in your bed, and realized you felt something dripping. Using your cell flashlight you looked for the source, soon spotting the wet area on the ceiling over where you slept. 

Of course there had to be a leak, and of course it had to be right over where you slept. You dragged yourself out of bed, placing a bowl under the leak and dragging your stuff with you to sleep in the living room. 

You tried making yourself comfortable on the couch, but you knew this was a couch for sitting, not laying down. You had a long night ahead of you, not to mention the thunder and lightning outside that made you jump every time there was a loud unexpected boom. You were still trying to find some decently comfortable way to sleep when you heard Baekhyun’s door open. 

“What are you doing?” You heard him ask, peeking up from where you had buried yourself in your blanket. 

“There’s a leak in my room, my bed got all wet.” 

You tried to stay composed as you said it but when a loud clap of thunder caught you off guard you jumped, letting out a small wince. Baekhyun gave you an odd look. 

“So you’re sleeping out here? You know that couch sucks to sleep on.” 

You were about to answer when another loud boom had you screaming and hiding under your blanket. You stayed under the covers, still shaking slightly until a hand moved them off of you and you looked to see your roommate gazing down at you. 

“Y/n, are you scared of thunderstorms?” 

You weren’t about to play along if he was planning on making fun of you right now. You were too stressed out. 

“Shut up, you’re just gonna make fun of me.” You whined, covering your face with the blanket again.

You heard a long sigh and before you had time to react you were being scooped up off the couch, and Baekhyun was carrying you through the living room towards his bedroom. 

“What the hell are you- put me down!” You tried to protest, but it was no use. 

“You can sleep in my bed tonight, there’s enough space for both of us.” 

Not giving up so quickly you kept trying to get out of his hold, and his eyes met yours, faces now only centimeters apart. 

“Would you really rather be on the hard couch all night, freaking out over every little clap of thunder or do you want to be comfortable?” 

He raised his eyebrows, daring you to say something back but you didn’t. You just pouted and let him take you to his room. 

You knew that his king sized mattress would be big enough for both of you, but sleeping next to him still felt wrong. You were already feeling uncomfortably warm just from him picking you up and holding you like that. 

He set you down on one end of his bed and climbed in next to you, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. 

“Why are you doing this?” 

He turned to look at you. “Midterms are starting, you’re always stressing about your grades so you should make sure to get enough sleep.” 

He said it as if that too was completely normal. Like he actually cared. He turned away again to turn off the light and you both tried to get comfortable on your respective ends of the beds. 

Knowing he was just right next to you still felt very strange. However before you were able to dwell on it any longer another loud boom had you jumping and shaking in fear, pulling the blankets up over yourself. You heard Baekhyun laughing. 

“Don’t make fun of me! I can’t help it.” 

He was still just laughing and you were trying to ignore him and get comfortable again but another loud clap of thunder had you tensing up, letting out a scared whine. 

“Yahh, are you really that scared? It’s just a little thunder.” 

He sounded less amused now but you still didn’t like how he was teasing you about it. 

“Yeah, I am scared. I really hate storms.” You said from beneath his blankets, voice shaky. 

You were becoming more and more frustrated and the seconds ticked by, waiting for the next annoying comment from him or loud bang of thunder still coming from outside. As much as you tried to prepare yourself for it, you still got scared every single time, and the storm only seemed to be getting worse. 

Baekhyun watched through the dim light of his room as you hid under the covers, gasping and shaking every time there was a loud noise or flash of light through the windows.

He frowned at how terrified you still seemed. Did you really always get this scared when it stormed? It seemed a little ridiculous but if you were actually that distraught, he wanted to somehow help. He just wasn’t sure what to do as you continued to hide, wanting nothing more at this point than for this storm to be over. 

There was a bright flash right outside his window, followed almost immediately with a sharp, ear shattering boom, and you lost it completely. There were no thoughts in your mind other than how badly you needed to get away from this storm. You were so scared that you hadn’t even realized how much you’d jumped, and that Baekhyun had pulled you in, letting you hold onto him for comfort. 

You hated this. This wasn’t like you. You weren’t usually some damsel in distress and it pained you that you were acting like this, but you didn’t stop yourself either. In fact when you felt Baekhyun’s arms wrapping around you, you only held onto him tighter and he was moving and you felt something wrapping around your head. It was a pillow, and Baekhyun made sure to cover both of your ears with the thick memory foam while still holding you close. He made sure you couldn’t hear and couldn’t see the storm, hoping that you would finally be able to calm down and go to sleep. 

And it actually worked pretty well. The sounds were now muffled and you couldn’t see the flashes of lightning when your face was buried in his chest, surrounded by the pillow and blanket. He had you all curled up, close and protected and after a couple minutes, you finally felt yourself relaxing. 

Baekhyun didn’t move, keeping you snugly in his arms until the storm passed. When he was sure there wouldn’t be any more thunder and only the soft sound of the rain remained, he let go of you and the pillow. 

“The worst of it’s over, try to get some sleep.” He whispered before turning, laying down with his back to you as he dozed off. You too were exhausted, and the comforting smell of him on his sheets had you slowly drifting off. His bed felt so warm and cozy.

Part 2

[racinggirl]

Collision of hearts - 01

Lando Norris x OC (Fayenne Jackson)

word count: 2k warnings: none notes: I hope you like the first chapter, please let me know what you think about the piece at the end, I'm planning on incorporating that a lot more! Any way of feedback, whether it's positive, negative, in the comments, in my asks, as a reblog in the tags is very very welcome <3 If you want to be added to the taglist, read the bottom of this post 🧡

masterlist (will be up somewhere this week)

prologue

next part

🏎️ = Lando

⛸️ = Fay(enne)

⛸️

‘’You go first, I don’t want to be the one falling through the ice, that’s cold!’’

I let out a soft chuckle as my friend, Melanie, stood at the edge of the lake, a scarf around her neck, gloves around her fingers as she looked from the ice to me, very quickly. See, I loved to skate, it was something I used to do when I was little, something to escape the world for just a moment. No, I wasn’t a professional skater, I wish I was, though. I started on some home-made skates my father made me for my 6th birthday. I fell, a lot, but that’s part of life. You fall, get up, fall again, and keep trying till you get better and better, and that’s exactly what I did.

I’m 23 now, and my best friend is holding her phone with her right hand, positioning it so she’d capture the perfect content for when I’d fall through the ice.

‘’It’s been freezing for almost a week straight, Mel, the ice is thick enough!’’ A smile appears on my face when I hear the metal of my skates touch the still untouched ice. It was a beautiful sound, soft, but it pierced through my ears like it was the only thing I could hear. A few steps onto the ice, and I slowly turned around, watching how Melanie slowly put away her phone.

‘’Damnit, that would have made some great content to be fair.’’ She looked over at me with a smirk, a playful one, because I knew she didn’t mean that.

Melanie, she has been my best friend ever since kindergarten. We basically grew up together, only under very different circumstances. We finished primary school together, and even secondary school. However, after that, she went into a different direction for her career, one my parents would never allow me to take. She started modelling, and I was lying when I’d say I wasn’t jealous of her. She started of doing a few shoots for some of her boyfriends at the time. I know what you might be thinking, but Mel would never do THOSE kinds of shoots. She wasn’t your everyday influencer Instagram model, not at all, she’s smart, and made sure to have a backup while modelling.

‘’Come on! It’ll be fun, and totally safe.’’ I teased, skating around the lake to make sure every bit of the water at the top was frozen. I felt like a fish in the water, but on the ice, and not a fish, because that would be… You know what I mean. I felt like home on the ice. Like I said before, I’m not a professional skater. I’m actually a lawyer. I ended law school this year, and I couldn’t be happier to have finished it and never look into those books ever again. I’m a terrible lawyer, at least, that’s what I’ve been telling myself.

‘The only way to do great work is to love what you do’

And well, I don’t love it. I hate it, even. I know many people would want to have a law degree, I know many people would want to finally have that paper and help people, help the innocent ones. But that’s the thing, you don’t get to choose who you defend, especially as a beginner. You take every job you can get, and that’s mostly not the one of the victim’s defenders. You’ll have to work with stubborn people, criminals, the so called ‘bad guys’.

‘’Okay, okay, fine, hold my hand.’’ I skate towards my best friend and hold out my hand for her, making sure she would be stable on the ice before we moved on the slippery surface.

‘’You’re doing great, Mel, just remember, lean forward, and focus on where you want to go.’’

Melanie has supported me every step of the way, even when I finished my degree and got a job at the local skate centre instead of being a lawyer, the path my parents set out for me. It was a hard decision, and one that came with consequences, but it was the first time I had actually gone against my parent’s commands. I felt torn, because they were the ones that paid for my university, they were the ones that made all the effort and what did I do? I just chose my own way, my own path, after everything they did for me. I know they want to see me happy, but telling them I wouldn’t be happy pursuing my career as a lawyer was the hardest thing to do, and they didn’t take it well. That’s why I moved out. That’s why I took the job as a skate instructor for the little kids, ages around 7 to 9, at the local skate centre.

‘’I have a better idea, why don’t we grab a hot chocolate and have dinner at my place tonight? I heard there’s this new club opening, and guess who got tickets for the grand opening?’’ She tugged my hands slightly, mostly to keep herself balanced on the ice, but also because of the excitement.

That’s the thing of having a well-known friend, she always knew where to go and where to be, receiving invitations for one of the biggest club openings, and me always being her plus one.

‘’One more round on the ice, and we have a deal.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Melanie groaned, holding my hand tightly. ‘’Fine, but just one!’’

🏎️

‘’What’s up chat! I’m back! I know, three times in a row, pretty mint huh?’’ I positioned myself in the chair, the headphones on my head, a snack on the side, next to my bottle of water. I scan through the chat, trying my best to read some of the comments, ignoring most of them.

The season ended, not the best way possible, but it could have been worse. The upgrades we brought the second half of the season made a big improvement to the car, and I’m quite glad about that. We’re going into the direction I wanted, which is up, and times like these are the moments I’m grateful for the patience I’ve had with McLaren.

‘’It’s gonna be a shorter stream though, chat, cuz I have somewhere to be after this.’’ I take a bite from the biscuits I held on the desk, immediately taking a sip of water after it.

‘Do you have a date?’

‘Where are you going after this?’

‘What are you eating?’

I quickly scan through the reactions, not really answering any of them. I loved to stream. I wasn’t able to do it a lot because of the busy season we had. Because of the busy schedule I had, but right now it was a little more toned down, meaning I had found a few free hours I could sit and talk to the camera on Twitch.

‘’Thanks for all the gifted subs, everyone! Holy shit, I can’t even keep up with them.’’ I laughed, trying my best to thank every single person that popped up on my screen. I never could get used to the amount of support I was getting from the fans. People chanting my name, the thousands of bracelets people would make for me, taking the time and effort to create something for me, it was surreal.

As the chat buzzed with questions and comments, I couldn’t help but smile at the energy radiating through the screen. The support from my fans was overwhelming in the best possible way. I glanced at the clock, realising time was ticking away faster than I anticipated.

‘’Alright, let’s jump into a quick Q&A, chat!’’ I announced, grabbing a handful of questions popping up in the chat. ‘’First up, where am I headed after this? Well, I’ve got a charity event lined up. Gotta give back when I can, right?’’

The chat exploded with emojis and words of encouragement. I chuckled at the flood of enthusiasm, feeling grateful for the platform that allowed me to connect with such an incredible community.

‘’Next question,’’ I continued, scrolling through the comments. ‘’What am I eating? Just some biscuits, nothing fancy.’’ I reach for the packaging of the biscuits, showing them to the camera. ‘’Not sponsored!’’ I joked afterwards.

Time flew by faster than expected, and as the charity event drew nearer, I reluctantly announced the stream’s conclusion. The chat flooded with messages expressing gratitude and excitement for the next stream.

‘’Thanks everyone, it’s been fun! You’re the best, love ya. I’ll catch you in the next one.’’ I said, creating a heart with my hands before I ended the stream.

I quickly gathered my things, leaving the streaming setup behind as I rushed to the charity event.

⛸️

It’s been a while since I went out to a club, especially one where a basic pair of jeans and a nice top weren’t ‘good enough’. The club we were headed to wasn’t your ordinary ‘I’m bored with my friends so let’s go out’ kind of club, not even close. It was a higher-end, new, influencer filled kind of club, one where normal people like me wouldn’t usually get access to. At least, if you didn’t have a model as a friend.

Melanie had been modeling ever since we finished secondary school, she got scouted by many modeling agencies across Europe, but she always chose the one near London, near me. She was like an older sister to me and when times were rough, she’d be there and vice versa.  

‘’You know? I’m quite jealous of you, actually.’’ Melanie got me confused by that comment, she, jealous of me, what for?

‘’Oh?’’ I furrowed my eyebrows slightly but remained focused on applying my mascara.

‘’Your natural beauty, your eyebrows, your lashes, and oh my god your lips.’’ She said, sipping her wine as she applied some nude lip-gloss on her plump lips. I knew where she was going with it all. I never had surgery, not once in my life. I never wanted to, because maybe I was a little proud of my so called ‘natural beauty’. I barely wore make up, and whenever I did, it was a simple clear brow gel and a lip balm. My lashes were dark, black, long and they had volume without me having to do anything about it aside from curling them. My eyebrows weren’t black, but a nice dark colour of brown that matched my hair. My lips, never done anything about them, no fillers, nothing. I’m not saying anything is wrong with having fillers, I think it’s beautiful on Melanie, really natural as well, it just wasn’t something I’d see myself doing.

‘’Your lips are so.. urgh, plump, I wish I had that.’’ She says as she finished her make up and moved on to pick out an outfit from her never-ending closet. ‘’What do you think, this Versace dress? Oh, or this Elisa one?’’ She says, holding out two black sparkly dresses.

‘’Left,’’ I start the beginning of my next sentence. ‘’You have gorgeous lips.’’ I say, full honesty. ‘’Yeah, but they’re fake.’’ Melanie says and simply grabs the Elisa dress and starts putting it on, making sure every one of her curves and pros of her body were nicely hugged with the expensive fabric.

‘’Mel…’’ I sighed, closing the tube of mascara, and placing it back in her vanity as I almost always used her make up. ‘’I know, I’m just kidding, I’m just saying, maybe you should start to model too, it’s gonna give me competition, but if it’s you, I can handle it.’’ She teases with a smirk, making me roll my eyes.

‘’Come on, Fay, let’s go.’’

...

taglist

@smoooothoperator @itsjustkhaos @tpwk-cherie @skynel09 @peqch-pie @aphroditeisamilf

a/n: if you want to be added to the taglist, comment ❤️ down below

[starstruckmoony]

style.

masterlist

pairing - sirius black x fem!reader

summary - you and sirius start dating after accidentally running into each other at a concert but confirm nothing (till now), just to watch everyone lose their shit online.

trope/tags - band/celeb!au, instagram/social media!au, modern!au, fluff, terrible humour

word count - 1k

warnings - language

part 1 / part 2 / part 3

yourusername added to their story

starmanblack

❤ liked by yourusername, ev.rosier, marymacdonald and 856,327 others

starmanblack shades

26,013 comments

yourusername cigarette*

starmanblack ok duolingo

yourusername smash tbh

starmanblack not you copying my comment

yourusername i don't have the rizz it takes to come up with something original

starmanblack ain't no way you just said that

prongsyboy stop stealing people's glasses 😤

starmanblack never

vance_emm i'm like ragingly gay but you're kinda cute

starmanblack this is why you're my favourite lesbian

mmmckinnon TRAITOR

mmmckinnon it's not too late to delete this

starmanblack get out of my comment section

user828181 address the rumours sirius

user000423 run me over with your car i promise i'll pay for the damages 🙏

user627477 YOU HAVEN'T GIVEN US ANY ANSWERS

user999653 i'm perfect wife material, just saying

user424227 y'all realise that he's less likely to address the rumours if we keep being annoying 💀

user209996 nah fr he's gonna start hating us all

yourusername

❤ liked by starmanblack, prongsyboy, pandorasbox and 899,997 others

yourusername never would have though that my shows in dublin would be the craziest ones out of all but you guys actually delivered and i couldn't be happier! 💕 these past three nights were absolutely insane and i can't wait to be back (and i may or may not have already booked a few venues 😩) PLUS someone got proposed AND I DIDN'T EVEN SEE 😭 so if any of you beautiful people who were there have the video my dms are open for business lmao 🙏💞

tagged ev.rosier

27,664 comments

starmanblack apparently the proposal happened right next to me 💀

yourusername BABE HOW DID YOU NOT NOTICE?

starmanblack CAUSE YOU WERE BETTER THAN THE PROPOSAL

starmanblack my guitar ate as always

yourusername she's even signed 😱

starmanblack slay 😝

yourusername GO TO SLEEP OMG

starmanblack say it to my face 😤

xeno_lovegood i had so much fun

yourusername i'm smiling so hard rn

pete__ sirius is a certified simp because how do you miss a proposal that's happening next to you?

mmmckinnon it's because he's both sirius and a simp petey

prongsyboy sirius doing sirius things 🤣

user552520 dunno bout y'all but i got my confirmation tonight

user073789 YOU WERE SO GOOD OH MY GOD

user843632 i'm so lonely the proposal made me cry

user439546 love me some sappy shit fr

user674848 this was un fucking real no joke

user993455 SAY SOMETHING ABOUT THE RUMOURS I'M BEGGING

user200017 learn to read between the lines lol

starmanblack added to their story

yourusername

❤ liked by starmanblack, bellatrixieb, cissy_blck and 901,077 others

yourusername date night ⭐

29,208 comments

starmanblack pretty dress

yourusername why thank you

starmanblack my stomach feels funny from all that wine

yourusername my precious toilet 😭

marymacdonald gorgeous!!!

yourusername i was impersonating you

vance_emm AND SHE SAYS SHE HAS NO RIZZ

ev.rosier am i about to get fired?

yourusername of course not, you're my second favourite person

starmanblack i'm first

pandorasbox my friends are all so beautiful 🥺

yourusername us hot people stick together 😌

pandorasbox ONG

user329295 sirius is so lucky

user400128 i've never been more jealous of a man

user006272 IS THIS OUR CONFIRMATION?

user883265 mother is mothering

user306084 THE STAR

user243123 if this is another sike istg

user727211 I THINK IT'S NOT A DRILL ANYMORE

user492932 Y/N WE JUST NEED A SIMPLE YES OR NO DON'T DO THIS TO US

starmanblack

❤ liked by mmmckinnon, ev.rosier, casmeadowes and 916,222 others

starmanblack platonic snog

36,775 comments

yourusername people just don't appreciate friendships nowadays 🙄

starmanblack it's just so so sad 😣

yourusername i have better photos of us 👹

starmanblack strongly disagree

yourusername you don't wanna make this a competition

marymacdonald my mum said friends don't do that

starmanblack mama macdonald may be onto something

r.a.black affection 🤮

starmanblack i thought you unfollowed me?

r.a.black i did but i like lurking around here

starmanblack fan behaviour

rjlupin best friend things

prongsyboy HEY I'M HIS BEST FRIEND

rjlupin you were supposed to play along

user020226 MOTHER OF GOD IS THIS REAL

user366232 HDJQJDJQDJQ MY DELUSIONS WEREN'T DELUSIONS

user500447 you still need therapy

user432777 AIN'T NO WAY

user718710 I DIED DEAD.

user907015 GADHQHDQUDJQXJQDJQ I CAN'T FUCKING CATCH MY BREATH

user138282 are you still alive?

user907015 NO

user882446 this and platonic don't go together sirius 🙄

yourusername

❤ liked by walburgablack, cissy_blck, bellatrixieb and 933,052

yourusername pda is afraid of him

39,457 comments

starmanblack FINE you have better photos

yourusername see? that wasn't so hard to admit!

starmanblack i actually won in life

yourusername damn right you did

starmanblack celeb_gossip losing their minds rn

yourusername the kettle is B R E W I N G 🥵🫖🤩👀😳☕😝😻

bartyyy I KNEW BEFORE EVERYONE ELSE HAHA

yourusername well you're the favourite child...

lily_evans kinda illegal how you're both so hot

casmeadowes i've been saying!!!

cissy_blck REG'S SISTER IN LAW 😭

bellatrixieb he's one lucky man

r.a.black lucky isn't exactly the right word but okay

user737729 OH MY FUCKING SHIT

user632444 MY ACTUAL PARENTS

user536272 NOT ME NOT BEING DELULU

user292920 swifities can't relate

user155161 WALBURGA LIKED THIS HELP ME

user993929 narcissa is so real LMFAOOO

user032386 THAT SHOULD BE ME (idk which person i want to be more)

starmanblack added to their story

yourusername

❤ liked by cissy_blck, luciussy, bartyyy and 942,773 others

yourusername happy birthday to this idiot who i unfortunately love very much 💕

tagged starmanblack

30,033 comments

starmanblack tragic how i love you back

yourusername absolutely

starmanblack rizz god since 12

yourusername are you still 12?

lily_evans got me tearing up over here

yourusername awwww 🥺

rjlupin you should have used that one photo where he was on the potty

starmanblack WHY ARE YOU LETTING THEM KNOW THAT EXISTS?

rjlupin denying it would have worked yk

casmeadowes i woke up to this 💀

starmanblack good

mmmckinnon mondays.

user939355 THE CAT

user019661 i'm making this my profile picture

user763772 tell him i said happy birthday

user195666 imagine having someone say they love you so publicly ha ha ha ha ha

user244488 fuck being single fr

user328911 NO BUT THIS IS KINDA CUTE 😭

yourusername added to their story

[halfbakedideas]

DC & BATFAM MASTERLIST

Note: not all the DC/Batfam fics I've written, most only exist on my Ao3. Not currently being added to.

Tim's Pet Fish(/es) ~ Because everyone knows that fish are the easiest pets to keep. Or; Tim's experiences with pet fish over the years.

BatRules ~ The full list of rules that the Bat Family has, for both their civilian lives and their night lives. It gets a little out of hand. Just a little. [list!fic]

Tell Me Why The World Never Fights Fair ~ Welcome to the worst nightmare of all: reality! - Clive Barker.

Or, Three vigilantes (Bruce, Jason and Tim) don’t have that great of a time. It gets better. It just takes a bit.

If It’s Too Much Trouble… ~

TIM DRAKE (outgoing to JANET DRAKE): if it's too much trouble, I'll walk home.

He will actually do it, he will walk home, even if his legs are jelly and he feels like he's seconds away from ruining his dry clean-only school blazer.

THEY/THEM JASON SERIES🌟

Don't Talk To Me Like I Don't Know What You Are Feeling ~ Tim’s eyes are stormy. “I never replaced you, Jason. I was the Robin that got replaced, not you.”

To Be On the Receiving End of a Hug ~

Jason *being hugged by Dick*: This is terrible I hate you.

Dick: I can leave—

Jason, with a gun: You stay right the fuck here.

EVENT FICS🌟

The Concept of Christmas ~ Freshly-arrived-from-the-future Bart Allen did not understand the concept of Christmas. Plain and simple; he hadn’t grown up with it. Over the next seven years, he learns what the holiday involved through a range of holiday traditions. Not-so-freshly-arrived Bart Allen-Drake thought that he had a handle on the whole Christmas thing. [2023 Christmas!fic]

Of Shish kebab-ing and Brothers ~ Tim pays for Damian's defiance. [written for Whumptober 2022 prompts 'defiance' and "better me than you"]

Hot Potato, Hot Potato ~ Have you ever wanted to play hot potato with your littlest brother who has been magically turned into an iguana? The Batkids did. [written for Whumptober 2022 prompts 'manhandled']

[dontsh0vethesun]

Hiya~

I know I've sent you so many asks already (and feel free to tell me to stop if I'm annoying you. I'll understand) but I was thinking maybe a Melissa's reaction to reader bringing home a puppy without letting her know first. Maybe one of the Italian breeds like a Cane Corso.

<3

i literally just wrote this quickly because i love dogs and couldn't resist so i hope you don't hate it - but also i love your requests sosososososo much!!

hoagie

melissa schemmenti x reader

this is just pure fluff | wc: 799 | masterlist

Melissa had been waiting for you to come home after your trip to the store; she’d sent you out to pick up a couple of ingredients for dinner. An hour ago. She was almost done with her second glass of wine and you’d still not come back. 

She was beginning to get worried, only hoping that her wandering thoughts of something terrible having happened were way off the mark. 

She breathed a sigh of relief when she finally heard the front door open and close, soon followed by you, bag in hand and a smile on your face. 

“What took you so long?” she asked you, taking the bag from you to begin unpacking. “I was beginning to think you’d started another street brawl.”

“That was one time. And an accident. And hardly a ‘brawl’,” you argued with a huff whilst she just laughed. “My friend called me whilst I was out, she was nearby and I got distracted, I’m sorry.”

“Mm, and I see you bought my favourite coffee to get in my good books,” she muttered as she put it away.

“Has it worked?” 

“Definitely, honey,” she answered, pressing a kiss to your lips. When she pulled away she eyed you inquisitively, eyebrow raised. She knows you too well not to notice something was up.

“What?” you laughed, shuffling where you stood. 

“Which friend was it?”

“Angela.”

“The one with all those dogs?” she countered whilst you nodded and she began chopping vegetables. 

“Don’t you think having a little puppy would be so perfect?”

“No,” she returned. “I love them but I don’t think I could handle two of you with the zoomies every night,” she added with a chuckle. 

“I get that,” you agreed. “Want me to help?”

“Sure.” Her voice questioned your intentions and she was convinced there was some kind of ulterior motive. “You tryna butter me up or somethin’?”

“Can’t I help my girlfriend, just because?”

“I guess,” she shrugged. “But don’t actually touch anything.”

“Y’know, her Cane Corso just had a couple puppies,” you muttered as you took a seat on the kitchen counter, mindlessly stroking her hair to try your hardest to appease her. 

“Proper Italian dogs,” she mused. 

“Here, I’ve got some photos,” you responded, shoving your phone in front of her face excitedly. “They’re a few months old and one of them nibbles on your fingers with his toothless mouth which was a little gross but I love him so it’s fine.” You were getting antsy, glancing towards the front door, and luckily Melissa was distracted enough to not notice. 

“He sounds like you - is he gassy as well?” she teased, only receiving a little shove from you in return. 

“Rude,” you pouted as you hopped down from your seat, heading back towards the front door. “I just remembered I forgot something in the car, don't miss me too much - also don’t forget how much you absolutely adore me, and how you can never be mad at me about anything ever.” 

“God, what’d you do?” she sighed, turning off the stovetop, but you were already gone, muttering to yourself words she couldn’t clearly hear. 

You were glad to see her facing away from you when you walked back inside and you were able to walk up behind her before she could chastise you right away. The dog in your arms sat comfortably with his head against your shoulder, soft fur against your cheek and his tail wagging slightly. 

You cleared your throat to get her attention and her eyes widened, though she wasn’t overly surprised considering you're always causing a mischief she only pretends to find annoying. 

“No. No, we cannot have a dog,” she spoke, keeping her eyes on your face to avoid his.

“Aw, but look at him,” you pouted, using his paw to wave at her. “Hi, mom, I woof you.”

“That was terrible,” she groaned, unable to hide her smile at your silly grin. You both looked so adorable, both of you sporting puppy dog eyes. “We can’t keep him. He hasn’t got a name so it’s not too late fo-”

“He has got a name,” you interrupted. “I named him Hoagie and I love him.”

She hated how she couldn’t resist the pair of you and how her own body betrayed her when she cupped his face between her hands, letting him chew on her thumb excitedly. 

“You’re both gonna cause me a lotta trouble.”

“Yep,” you grinned largely, instantly grimacing at the sudden appearance of a certain smell you don’t care to sniff ever again. 

“I knew he was gonna be gassy,” Melissa groaned, pinching her nose between her fingers as she grabbed the air freshener. It would soon be clear that the cotton fresh spray would have to make a regular appearance.