#needing to leave 7:30-ish

[freepassbound]

43: How long does it take me to get ready in the morning?

From literally waking up to out the door? I'd like an hour, at least, I think - but of course I can do it faster when need it be.

[xxiiam]

Unpunishable

Contents - dbf!joel x fem! Reader , Jackson! Joel , relationship established but no label on it , age gap but no specific ages you’re an adult but Joel still doesn’t see you as an equal , mean-ish Joel , boot riding , two pussy slaps , size kink if you squint , daddy kink, joel always too soft on you in the end, unprotected sex, creampie , fingering, joel is huge

Wk - 2.835k

Authors note - you can imagine this as game joel or hbo joel i don’t really care need both , need dbf joel need dbf joel need dbf joel. Inbox always open reblogs and comments always appreciated. Female perverts rise

The clock had hit 7:00 pm and still no sight of joel he said he’d be home at 6:30 and would make you both dinner . You just waited , reading . You got so bored you even started inspecting all of the tchotchkes and Knick knacks Joel had collected over the years. Nothing of interest to you. Then you heard the gate close so you rushed to the window opening the drapes to see joel walking up the small path to your shared home.

You turned on your heels rushing to the door sliding on the wooden panels as you bounced on the balls of your feet waiting for the door to open. Joel walked in tired eyes meeting yours , “someone’s excited to see her old man” his gruff voice spoke out as he slid his thick jacket off and hung it up on the coat hook. “I am! I’ve been waiting- you’re late daddy.. M’hungry” you said toddling towards joel and were greeted by his large rough , calloused hand on your cheek . Thumb stroking back and forth before he smoothed over your hair , “‘m sorry sweetheart , you did your hair real nice ‘nd pretty for me today” his eyes trailed down landing on the short flowy dress you had on littered with floral patterns . Joel always liked you in floral dresses, “even dressed nice for me too? What’s the catch? You wantin somethin?” He smiled as his hands travelled to your waist smoothing out the dress .

You shook your head but a grin was plastered on your lips , “no no just wanted to look pretty for you when you got home, missed you. Felt lonely , I always feel lonely when you go out on patrol I have no one to talk to nothing to do”

He sighed smile being wiped off of his face , joel hated talking about this . He just wanted to keep you safe in the house , safe from the outside although you lived in a nice community you weren’t too sure what he meant by that. But he often scolded you saying “adults know best” although you too were an adult.

“We’re not talkin about this again when you’re older you’ll realise I’m doin all this for your benefit” his voice was stern it was more him talking at you than to you. You frowned , “I am older , I’m not asking for much maybe you can talk to the lady at the bakery and ask if I can help out I just want something to do I don’t like being cooped up in here all alone.” He removed his hands from your waist and just walked past you to the kitchen to start making food. Ending the conversation. Joel hated when you walked away from him during conversation but had no problem doing it himself.

Dumbfounded you stood there for a moment , why did he always treat you like this? Leaving you in the dark about so many things you weren’t stupid you just wanted to feel like an adult. You soon followed him into the kitchen sitting down at your retrospective designated place at the table, “you always tell me it’s rude to walk away when someone is speaking to you” . His back was still turned away from you , “you want me to start treating you’re a big girl? Start actin like one instead of a spoiled brat. You don’t know how good you have it here” . You stammered for a moment but joel didn’t actually let you speak before continuing , “you forget to set the table today. You say yer bored , got nothin to do . I ask you to do simple things around the house and I don’t see you doing nothing just day dreamin all day”

Your fists balled on the table out of protest you wouldn’t actually do anything you and Joel both knew it was performative. “I jus’ forgot that’s all” . He didn’t respond he just continued cooking 30 minutes of silence is what he gave you. Until he set your plate down on the wooden table . Joel knew you hated silent treatment. You just hated not knowing what you did wrong and why he wasn’t speaking to you. You just moved the food around your plate with your fork watching him eat. “Stop playin’ with your food nd just eat it.” He ordered his mood still sour, “not hungry” , he clicked his tongue and set his fork down staring at you , anger very present in his face. You were teetering on a thin line and you knew consequences would be in due. “You told me not thirty minutes ago you were hungry said you’d been waitin all day now you’re sayin you’re not? And you say you’re grown , you’re this and that but act like this whenever things don’t go your way?”

“Why are you being mean to me today?” You pouted staring at your food , you were hungry but you just were too upset to eat it. “I’m not . I just don’t like your attitude change it or I’ll fix it for you” he said standing up and putting his finished plate in the sink. Washing and wiping his hands with a rag. He turned around again clearly making himself more and more angry thinking about how stupid this situation is , but you still spoke up . “I just missed you nd you’re being mean to me” your tone sounding more and more childish although you didn’t mean it to be. You were just upset maybe joel was right.

He walked over to your seat pulling it back , “knees” he commanded you just stared at him blankly , “I won’t ask again” he spoke his eyes were dark , in all honesty you had done your hair and dressed nicely for him hoping he would fuck you good after dinner so you could go to bed with a full stomach and stuffed with his cum.

You slowly got to your knees from the chair , you reached to start unbuckling Joel’s belt but he swatted your hand away , “no you say you missed your daddy? Prove it” he looked down to his boot , you looked down to his boot then back at him , “how do I prove it?” . He flipped up your dress using his boot before sliding his left leg forward towards your knees , “go on” . Your cheeks began to heat up , felt embarrassing being told to hump his boot like some kind of dog. But you wrapped your arms around Joel’s leg and hovered over his boot . Joel usually had patience but not today he lifted his foot so the boot met your cunt , it felt wrong . Bad . But the pressure felt so good. You began to roll your hips down onto his boot, the hard shoe adding pressure to all the right places.

You gripped his muscular leg harder as you tried to chase some sort of high , Joel usually would help you , says you don’t know what you’re doing but you trying things on your own felt good too. “Daddy.. I want more, boots not like your cock” you pouted hoping to have this one over Joel on most nights this would’ve worked but not tonight . “You’re lucky I’m even lettin you do this. I could’ve just sent you to bed, empty stomach and untouched pussy. I know you’ve been waitin all day to be touched. Achin’ for it aren’t you?” He was still angry with you but you were his baby he knew you couldn’t sleep properly without being touched .

You nodded , “need my daddy” your hips stuttered as you continued to grind down on him , pussy leaking through the cotton panties you had on soaking his shoe . Your small whimpers filling the otherwise silent room , Joel’s patience was wearing thin he palmed his hardening cock through the denim . A part of him really loved how pathetic you were at times only could get off with his help he always needed to help you. He gripped your arm with a bruising grip pulling you up leading you to the living room . “Can’t do anythin for yourself” he said sitting down on the couch his legs parting he held his hand up stopping you from sitting down , “take it all off for me honey” you just nodded as you started to undress in front of him before standing awkwardly barren and naked for his eyes to coast over you .

He patted his thighs , “come sit let daddy take care of you” . You smiled crawling onto him he turned you so your back was facing him and he slid his rough hands down your sides . Bringing one arm over you cupping your breast in one hand pulling you back into him as he slid his hand down and cupped your sex before lifting it and coming down with a swift slap which you yelped at the sting lingering as he smiled against your neck pressing a kiss down onto your shoulder , “shhh baby I know I know I’m being mean” he began circling your clit using the pads of his middle and ring fingers before trailing down your slit collecting all of your slick wetness and spreading it up your cunt , “this wet from grinding on my boot? You did miss daddy didn’t you?” . You whined and pouted , “I told you daddy but you didn listen” . He smiled once more , “sorry sweet girl ‘m listenin now” he pressed only one of his thick fingers inside you without warning and you bucked your hips into his hand mewling like a cat. “That feel good? Been waitin all day haven’t you” .

He then inserted a second finger in stretching out your sopping hole , everything about Joel as just so big compared to you it’s why you always felt so safe with him although he was tough on you , mean at times but he fucked you so good. “When do I get your cock daddy?” You said between whimpers as he pumped his fingers in and out of you curling up to press against your velvety gummy walls. Always so impatient , but who could blame you? You loved the way Joel stretched you out, it hurt so good always rewarding you with his cum, it was like a warm hug from the inside.

He clicked his tongue , “so cock hungry, let me just play with you for a minute ,why don’t you?” He would alternate from his fingers being inside you to rubbing your clit as his fingers lazily groped and played with your tits . Joel liked this a lot just playing with you , hearing your small moans the way you’d sit and squirm on him . Wasn’t this supposed to be him fixing your attitude? He was just giving into you. This old man is getting soft.

You began to squirm more , moans becoming more persistent. Your hands gripping Joel’s scarred thick forearms. Your thighs clamping shut around Joel’s hand making him slap your cunt once more , “try to close your legs again and I won’t let you have my cock tonight” you pouted and whined at the sting before spreading your legs once more , joel loved how obedient you would be . He kissed a trail down your neck to your shoulder , being tickled by his rough facial hair . His fingers still pumping inside you like a well oiled machine , your head falling back onto him as the coil inside you began to unravel more until it finally snapped. Your thighs shaking as you had full body convulsions on his lap , your cunt clamping around his fingers as he kept curling them up inside you making you ride out your orgasm. “Good girl always cum so hard f’me , you think you deserve your old man’s dick now?”

You nodded , words still on the end of your tongue but you were in such a euphoric state your body didn’t allow sentence much more than a babble escape your mouth . He lightly moved you off of his lap , sucking on his fingers before reaching for his belt buckle . You heard the metal clang tighter before he pulled the belt through the loops and took it off completely . Undoing his button and letting you hear your favorite sound of the zip being pulled down. You loved that sound it meant you were in for a treat. Your nightly sometimes morning routine.

He pulled his jeans down just enough for his thick cock and heavy balls were free , he then pulled your now pretty much limp body onto him. Thighs either side of his , “do you wanna help daddy or do you just want me to do it” he asked like he always did in this position . You shook your head and just wrapped your arms around his neck burying your face inhaling his musk, “daddy do it” you said muffled. Joel obliged taking his dick in one hand as he held you steady with the other . Although he did just stretch you out with his fingers it was no help he was just too thick. He always has been too big for you but you both loved the stretch. His throbbing head trying to push its hardest into you , you just whined in pain into Joel’s neck . He moved his free hand from your hip to your back rubbing up and down trying to soothe you , “ I know I’ll make you feel good just push through this pain for a minute for me won’t you honey?” . His hands now both shifting to your hips as he began to push you down onto his cock , his hips lifting to meet you half way . Your eyes squeezed shut from the pain and you bit down onto his traps . Joel didn’t mind you biting in fact he liked it just a little. When he had finally fit all of himself inside you he let you settle for a moment , adjusting to the size just as he always did .

When you said you had adjusted enough he lifted your hips once more leaving a small gap between the two of you before he began fucking his cock into you from under you . You loved doing this with Joel because his cock pummelled your insides hitting all the right places making you squeeze down on him , moaning his name into his ear like a mantra . How your fingers found their way in his hair and his iron clad grip on your hips , a bruising grip but he always made sure to kiss them better after. You arched your back pressing your chest into his , his lips on your neck feeling his hot breath fanning over your collarbones .

You loved how he fucked you like you was his personal sex doll , he knew how to please you. Only him. He knew it could only ever be him that would suffice your urges. “Takin it so well for me baby, fuck- don’t think I can make this a long one tonight princess. Jus’ wanna cum in this little pussy . Made for me to fill isn it?” He panted against you. You were fucked utterly pathetic at this point babbles just poured out of your mouth not being able to respond to him properly . Joel’s hips jerked and spluttered filling you with thick ropes of his warm cum . You fell limp against him as he pressed a kiss to your head , he lifted your hips once more as he put his now half hard cock back into his jeans he didn’t care that his cum was spilling out of your onto said jeans .

He lifted you with ease into his arms so you were laid bridal style over him as your thigh muscles still contracted and spasmed . He then stood up you still in his arms , his joints popping as he stood they got louder with age . He began to carry you upstairs to the bathroom to give you both a bath . Walking up the stairs he spoke up , “how about before my shift tomorrow we go to the bakery a pick up a loaf of bread and I’ll talk to Bonnie about a job. Part time. How would you feel about that baby?”

You always got your way in the end. That old man is just too soft on you really. You’re just his baby after all .

[hyptrance1]

Temporary Dumb Jock Induction

So I suppose I am making another induction. Probably one more up my alley, at least in my interests as of late. What can I say, lots of dumb jocks are DMing me and I need to capitalize on the current interest. So the premise of the induction is to give you a post hypnotic suggestion to act like a stereotypical dumb jock for 30 minutes after going under to this induction. So not a lot of thoughts in your head, a lot of bro-ish language, and wanting to flex, show off, and grow your muscles. Additionally, You’ll leave a comment about being a dumb jock if you do go under. Pretty simple stuff. If the post hypnotic suggestion doesn’t interest you or you dont want it to happen please don’t read it. Additionally, if you aren’t able to be a dumb jock for that time then also don’t read it or wait until you’re able to. And with that pretty straightforward address let’s begin. 

Let’s begin by just letting yourself get comfortable. Find a nice spot to settle into. Allow yourself to have your arms, legs, and every other part of your body settle into the place that they will be sinking into soon enough. Give yourself time to feel the parts of your body, your muscles, to slow down and stay where they are as you begin focus on reading this. And with reading this, allow your mind to focus on just the words in front of you, taking the time to go from one word to the next so that each sinks into your head. With this way of focusing and reading, your mind should shift, allowing for all other distractions to float away into the background. Every little noise becoming muted, every small breeze not being registered, allowing it all to fade into the background as you focus on these words in front of you, one after another as you continue to read. 

Now let’s focus on those muscles of yours, since as a soon to be jock that will be the only thing that you care about anyways. With each word you read I want you to imagine that a little jolt of pleasure  filling your muscles. Just a tingling of pleasure as each drop of pleasure from the words drips down into your muscles, filling up your body. Allow yourself a moment to take in how the pleasure flows from your head once you read a word, down into the muscle of its choice. You might be feeling the pleasure drip down into your pecs, or your biceps, your abs, or even your glutes. But when the jolt finally hits your muscles it’s electric, just awakening that muscle while also relaxing it. Causing this growing feeling of contentment and happiness filling your mind as your body is being rained on by the pleasure of my words. 

And while your body is being bombarded by pleasure, allow your mind to begin dropping thoughts. Its to hard to focus on thinking when my words bring you so much pleasure anyways. Cause what were you thinking about? Can you hold onto a thought? You may remember thinking something but then you read another word and another jolt of pleasure flows into your muscle and doesn’t that just take you out of your head and focus on how good those muscles feel now. But again, trying to think, to remember a thought, yet thinking is to hard, and what would you even have to think about while you’re focusing on the words in front of you and your body is feeling this good. Fuck, another word just filling your head, dripping pleasure down into your muscles as your thoughts poof out of existence. You? Thoughts? That doesn’t sound right. Jocks dont need to think, they need to focus on their muscles. 

And you will be focusing on your muscles, while the rest of your mind poofs its thoughts out of existence. Let your thoughts disappear more and more till they’re completely gone as I count down from 10. 

10

Your thoughts leaving faster now

9

The pleasure in your muscles feeling so good

8

Just a shower filling your body with jolts of comfort

7

You can’t think with this feeling, can you

6

But wait

5

Jocks dont think

4

And you’re a jock

3

Such a jock

Look at you focused on your muscles

2

No thoughts in that head

1

Totally empty headed

0 

And nicely hypnotized. Feeling great as your brain just lets that rain of pleasure fill it as well as your muscles. And at this point you know that you’re under, happy that you’re under. But not for long, because soon enough you’ll be back awake, and as the post hypnotic suggestion stated, you’ll feel like a normal dumb jock. Which you know how a dumb jock acts, behaves, talks. You know how they speak, you know how focused on their muscles they are. So when you wake up, and only for 30 minutes after coming out of trance, you’ll feel like the dumb jock of your dreams. 

Once those 30 minutes are done though, you’ll return to normal, feeling nice and relaxed as your thoughts return to you and the dumb jock suggestion leaves you totally. You will subconsciously know that the time has passed, and will return to normal once 30 minutes has passed. 

Lastly, once you’re awake, you will comment “It’s dumb jock time”. Feel that post hypnotic suggestion sinking in and…

1

Thoughts returning to you

2

Waking up

And 3

Wide awake

Wide wide awake. 

So surprise surprise, a new induction. Hope you enjoy and let me know how you like it. 

[urmom3001]

Forbidden Fruit pt. 2

Summary: Luke asks for the help of some special people in Y/n's life to help plan her perfect ideal date.

Warnings: Fluff, ermm not much I don't think, jut a finisher of the date. Not proof read! Fem! Dionysus! Reader,

A/n: Someone asked for a pt 2, so here we are. - Leafy

Okay, Luke had until 7:00 pm to plan something anything for his date with Y/n. It was about 3:00 O'clock, "4 hours" Luke thought to himself. What better plan is there other than to go to Silena Beuregard? Because not only was she Y/n's best friend, she was also in Cabin 10, so she should be like, a professional? Right?

Luke seemed like an idiot. He really had to go to someone one else to plan a date for Y/n. He just wanted everything to be perfect. Nothing could go wrong, he wanted everything to be perfect, just like Y/n.

So here Luke was, standing in front of Aphrodite Cabin. He knocked on the door.

"Who is it?" he heard a voice ring from the inside. It was most definitely Silena. He and her have only interacted a couple times, mainly only talking about Y/n.

"It's Luke, I wanted to ask a favor Silena." He semi shouted so he can be heard from the inside. She opened the door and peaked her head out.

"What type of favor?" She asked suspiciously.

"I'm taking Y/n on a date later at 7:00 and I have no, idea what I should do, and since you're her best friend I was thinking that maybe you coul-" Silena cut him off with a shriek.

"Yes! Finally!!" She exclaimed. "I'll SO help you, I've got so many ideas" She said excitedly as she pulled him into the cabin.

After about 2 hours Silena and Luke cooked up the best date ever, and set it up in your favorite place at camp. As they were walking back to the cabins Luke thanked Silena, all she said was.

"Listen Luke, we've been waiting for you to ask Y/n out for ages. Literally everyone at camp was rooting for you. So trust me, I've been waiting to do this. Now leave because I guarantee Y/n is going to pop up out of no where to get ready so. Go put on your best outfit." Silena ranted

"Will do." Luke said trying to act his coolest when really he was so nervous.

Silena was right.

Y/n had come banging on Cabin 10's door at around 5:30 ish, her make up was already done. Y/n only did makeup on special occasions. This was a really special occasion. "Silena!! Siliena open up! I know you're in there!" she shouted.

"Jeez woman give me a minute, its only been about 0.5 seconds since your first knock" Silena joked.

"Help me pick a dress, I've got a date with Luke, and I don't know what to wear." Y/n said as she dropped all 6 of her dress options and sighed lying on Silena's bunk.

"Alright, you already know what time it is." Silena said with anticipation. "Fashion show!!!" She said. "Come on let me see option one."

The first 5 options were not doing it for Y/n. Either is was too short, the color wasn't right, nothing felt right on her. Until the very last dress. This was the dress. It fit perfectly in all of the right places, flowed to just above her knees, just how she liked it. And the color was a beautiful stunning white, with little pink flowers printing the fabric. The straight lining on her bust was adorned with a beautiful sheer lace.

"Now that one, that's the one" Silene said. "I think so too." Y/n said. It was now about 6:50 "Shoot! I need to get back to my cabin it's about to be 7:00!" Y/n said scrambling to pick up the other 5 dresses she had. "Thank you Silena!" she hugged and kissed her cheek "I love you lots, owe you big time!" As she rushed out of the door.

Y/n had made it to her cabin, thank the gods without seeing Luke. She wanted to be surprised and vice versa.

"Why are you all dressed up?" One of your brothers asked you. Being a child on Dionysus had its perks, it was only you, and your two older brothers.

"None of your business." Y/n stated, she really did not want to be embarrassed by her older brothers.

"You're going on a date aren't you?" You're other brother pressed. "With who?" he asked strangely calmly. There was no hiding from your brothers.

"Luke from cabin 11.." you muttered.

"LUKE? LIKE HERMES LUKE?" There was an uproar of both of them discussing ways to scare him away. Y/n was going to put an end to it when there was a knock at the door. The three of them looked at each other, then at the door. Y/n was the first to move, and made it to the door before her brothers could. They may be fast. But she was faster. She creeped the door open awkwardly.

There Luke was, Looking nervous as ever, holding a bouquet of Y/n's favorite flowers, in his nicest outfit possible, which so happened to align with Y/n's color scheme.

"Hey Luke! " She looked up at him. She thought Luke looked like the most handsome guy on Earth. "You look.." She was cut off

"Y/n you better tell him you're not going on that date!" You're brother screamed. Y/n looked continued staring at Luke.

"Give me one second" Y/n said. Luke couldn't really make out what she was yelling about, something about how she was growing up already and she wasn't a little girl now, plus something about how Mr. D already approved. Suddenly it was quite

The door opened again and Luke straightened up. Now all three of the siblings came out with Y/n leading them. "Uhm..My brothers wanted to meet you before we left, I'm sure you talked to them before" She said.

"Yeah, uhm Hi. I'm here to take Y/n on a date." Luke stated the obvious.

"Yeah, we know." The two brothers were now towering Luke, Luke was about the same height as both of them but there was two of them and one of him. "Just have her back by 11. And I swear to the gods Castellan. If you do anything that hurts her in the tiniest-" He was cut off.

"Okay! Well me and Luke have to get going." Y/n said as she clapped her hands. She said goodbye to her older brothers with a hug and grabbed Luke's hand to walk as fast as she could away from her crazy over protective family.

As soon as they got as far away as they could Y/n apologized. "I'm sorry for the way that they acted, my whole family is just really over protective." She said.

"It's okay, I mean I get it, you're so beautiful they're probably fighting off boys left and right." Luke joked. "Oh, uhm.. these are for you." He said holding up the freshly made bouquet. "And, you look gorgeous tonight, I mean not that you don't always look gorgeous but I-"

"I love it Luke, thank you. You don't look too bad yourself. " Y/n said cutting off his ramble. "So, what do you have in store for me Luke."

"Do you trust me?" He said holding up a blindfold. If Y/n was being honest, she was a bit nervous. But she answered without a beat.

"Yes," and so Luke tied the blind fold on her, not too tight, but just enough to stay. He led Y/n with his hands. They definitely were no where near the cabins now.

Y/n knew where they were the second she felt the pebbly floor beneath her shoes, and heard the waves of the shore. They were on the Lake's Beachside, her favorite spot on camp.

"Are you ready?" Luke said. Y/n silently nodded. As he took off the blindfold, careful not to ruin her hair or makeup. she gasped.

"Luke.." her voice was just above a whisper. "This is.." Luke was extra nervous now. "This is so amazing." She turned around and jumped in his arms. "Thank you!"

"Of course, anything for you." he said as he gripped her waist.

The sun was setting perfectly, and the picnic looked so beautiful. The blanket that was lied out had all of Y/n and Luke's favorites. everything was perfect, they laughed and talked. They lied and cuddled together. As they sat with their heads watched the sunset Luke turned to Y/n she looked so perfect with her e/c eyes shining in the sun. She was just glowing. "Y/n, can I ask you something?"

"Yeah'?" She answered and turned to him.

"Can I be your boyfriend?" He asked as he stared into her eyes.

She smiled and started nodding "Yes"

"I have another question."

"Yeah?'

"Can I kiss you?"

Luke didn't have to do anything before Y/n's lips were on his the force of her kiss bringing them both down to lay on the blanket. Luke braced them for the impact and his hands instinctively went to her waist to stable her on top of him. They kissed until they were breathless.

As they pulled apart breathing heavily, foreheads still together. They looked at each other and laughed.

Y/n and Luke could most definitely get used to this

[aemondloverr]

𝐓𝐨𝐱𝐢𝐜

Pairing: Marc w/a little Steven+Jake X FemReader

Synopsis: Marc is your boyfriend of 3 years. You started slow the first year and he had lots of boundaries but he was trying. You know he’s been hurt before. However the second year, he started to pull away. Your relationship is getting weaker, and it seems like all he thinks about is Layla, his ex wife.

Contents: Angst, arguing, slightly drunk!Reader, jealous reader.

Wc: 2.1k ish

Proof read? Y’all know me. Hell naww (if there’s mistakes I’m sorry😔)

AN: Ngl, some of the lines Lowkey sound cringe to me but this is my first time writing angst so…😭

Every other night, Marc said her name in his sleep. “Layla..” he’d mumble.

You knew of his sleeping issues, his nightmares, his past with her. He still missed her and you couldn't bear the thought that he missed her more than he loved you.

As your relationship went on, it seemed like he was…less there, distant;Emotionally, mentally, and physically. Spacing out for long periods of time, not paying attention to what you're saying, or just tuning you out and ignoring you. He argued with you more frequently, not even over reasonable things. He’d say he was going out for work stuff and you knew, you had a gut feeling that he was lying to you. Tonight was no different.

*****

It was around 5 pm and it was already starting to get dark so you figured it was a good idea to get started on dinner. Just as you walked into the kitchen from the couch, Marc came out of your shared bedroom, dressed with a coat and hat on. It seemed like he was rushing, eager to leave the house.

Marc slipped on his boots and grabbed a small bag but as he unlocked the door, you turned around and interrupted him.

“Where are you going…?”

“Out. I have stuff to take care of.” His voice was barely audible but you could tell his tone was dismissive

“Please just be back before 8…okay? I wanna have dinner with you” for once, you added in your head

He looks at you but doesn’t say anything and steps out the door, slamming it shut. Taking a deep breath you get started on cooking, washing the vegetables to make his favorite vegan dish.

Steven and Jake on the other hand argue with Marc in the reflection of the glass in the window.

“You really need to listen to her…You don't want this to turn out how it did with-” Marc cuts him off abruptly.

“We don't talk about her. You know that.”

“But Steven is right and you know it marc…” Jake states

“Forget it mate…”

*****

5pm quickly became 7 and dinner was almost done. By 7:30, you were in the bedroom, changing into a dress you knew was Marc's favorite. It was form fitting and flattering to both your figure and complexion. You did your eye make up and a pretty lip combo and went to plate the food, setting out a bottle of wine with glasses on the table.

Half an hour later, it's 8 and he's still not here. Maybe it'll be different this time… you thought. But you waited there, sitting pretty in your long dress drinking wine and eating dinner. Alone. His food is getting cold.

10 pm. Still not here. You’re almost halfway through the bottle. At first you thought your relationship was perfect. How could you be so wrong? Why was he never there? Did he even love you anymore? Your mind starts to spiral as you become slightly intoxicated. Your overthinking always worried you.

You sat in the dark of the room, one leg crossed over the other, ruined mascara mixed with tears dried on your face. You didn’t even bother to pour wine into the glass anymore and just drank straight from the bottle. Every time you took a sip, the wine dripped down your chin and neck and stained your pretty dress. You read the clock. 12 am. Tears begin to pool your eyes again, but just then, The door unlocks. Marc opens the door to your shared apartment. Or Steven. Or jake. One of the three. He hoped that you were sleeping. When he saw that the room was seemingly dark and empty, he let out a breath of relief at the silence.

You interrupt the silence with your strained, shaky voice. “You’re late” you take another sip from the bottle slouched in a soft armchair. You knew it was Marc by the way he stayed silent. His breath hitched, slightly frightened by your sudden words and he quickly closed the door behind him.

“I know. I had to take care of something…” he mutters

“It’s 12 in the morning, Marc.” you reply sternly

Marcs mouth started to form an argument, but he snapped it shut. He took a deep breath, calming himself.

“I know…I'm sorry” he said inconsiderately

It took him a few seconds to notice the bottle of wine in your hand as his eyes adjusted to the dark.

“Have you been drinking…?”

You make a snarky remark “No shit. And you’re not fucking sorry. I told you to be home before 8. What the fuck Marc??” You took another large sip from the bottle.

Marc's jaw clenched as he sighed.

“I already said I'm sorry, what more do you want?!” he raised his tone at you.

He took the bottle from your hand and set it down on the table, looking down at you and your bloodshot eyes.

“Give it back” you reach for the bottle but he moves it away.

“You need to stop drinking-”

You cut him off with your words “What is wrong with you. You’re never here anymore. Ever.” You get up and snatch it from him.

Marc couldn't help but bristle at your words. You were always so stubborn. But it's because you loved him. You just wanted him to love you the same way he did before. He tried to hold in anger he felt building.

“Can we talk about this later? You're drunk”

“No, we're talking about it now. I can’t do this anymore Marc”

Marc rolled his eyes, thinking about how many times you’d said this before. He thought about the other times you were this close to actually breaking up with him…only for your words to turn into empty threats. He didn't want to get into a pointless argument this late at night.

“You’re being unreasonable and you're not in your right mind-” he raised his voice even louder than before

“I am not being unreasonable. Don’t you dare…”

Marc was fuming at this point. He took a step towards you until he was inches away from your face, smelling the wine on your breath. He wanted to scream and lash out at you, but he didn’t want to show you had an effect of him. After you showed him what real, unburdening, true, love looks like and he got scared. He got scared and pulled away. He gave you a cold shoulder that you didn't deserve.

Steven tries to calm him down from the mirror across the room. “Don’t say anything you’re gonna regret mate…” He does the exact opposite.

“You're here because you can't be anywhere else. I do everything I can for this relationship, and it's never enough for you.”

Scoffing in disbelief at his lie, you yell back. “You don’t do shit for me! I say I love you and you can’t even say it back anymore. You do NOT get to say you care!”

Now that was a low blow.

You had your finger poking right at his chest. Steven winces at your comment in the reflection. “I mean it’s true innit…Tried to tell you didn’t I?…You’re on your own now Marc.”

“Yea…you really did it this time” Jake comments too.

You tear up in frustration and hurt. Everything you've been feeling for the past few weeks is surfacing. Marc's lips tighten at the mention of it and he takes a sip out of the bottle he took from you. He didn’t think he’d have to hear that again and he knew you were right but he wouldn’t admit.

“You know why I don’t say it…”

He felt guilty, taking a step away. He didnt wanna look down at you as you looked up at him with those drunken, tear-stained eyes.

“Why?? It's because you still love Layla right?!”

Now that was a different kind of low blow. His body tensed at the mention of her name.

“Don’t you dare say her name…You know it's not that simple!! You don’t get to just throw that in my face every chance you get-”

“Yes it is,” you say, your lip quivering. You wanted to cry even more “all you do is think of her. You say her name in your sleep Marc!” He shouldn’t have been so quick to admit it, but something about the way you were looking up at him, the pain in your eyes, and the fact you were still slightly drunk made him soft. He couldn't help but feel a pang of guilt as he looked at you, knowing he was the cause of your hurt.

“It’s a simple question. Do you love me or not”

"Of course I love you…But that doesn't mean I'm not still heartbroken over Layla. I mean, she was my wife for Gods sake.”

“That doesn’t justify your shitty so-called ‘love’. I feel like I'm losing you…” Your tears turn black as they run through your mascara and down your face.

“I miss you...” You hesitantly grab his hands and hold them firmly in yours.

He thinks it's better to turn away and not get hurt by losing you than to be vulnerable, to take that risk again.

“It never used to be like this…before, you were there. What happened to us…?”

He pauses for a moment, tearing up. You look him in the eyes but he looks down at his feet. He wanted to prevaricate but that would only make things worse.

“I’m afraid of commitment, okay... I’m afraid to fall in love, that if I let myself feel that way again, things would end up the way they did when I was with layla”

“Why couldn't you just tell me that…? We could’ve handled it together”

“I.. thought that if I told you, you wouldn’t wanna be with me anymore. I was…”

He ran a hand through his hair, appearing stressed. He was being vulnerable with you and he wasn’t used to that…opening up to people, especially about Layla. He was really soft at heart and he’s not gonna let anyone catch him being soft…except you of course.

“I didn’t want to scare you away because I really do love you…I- It was stupid, but I promise…I promise I won’t push you away again, I’ll stop leaving, I’ll do anything…I love you”

He puts a hand on your cheek and brushes your messy hair off of your face. Tears swell in his eyes, bringing his forehead to yours. You dont reply and the two of you sit in silence for a few moments, savoring the feeling of being with him again;The way he holds you, just like way he used to before. But you can’t let it go that quickly.

“Just because you said a few words doesn't mean I can just forgive you like that…” You pull away from him and look away. “Sleep on the couch tonight please.” you walk away slowly without another word, taking his hand off of your cheek.

He doesn’t say anything more because he doesn’t want to argue, especially when you're half drunk and you both felt bad enough as it was

You go your separate ways to the couch and the bed. He stares out of the window at the moon, silently cursing Konshu in his mind, feeling the guilt of his absence. You curl up under the sheets in your wine-stained dress, no longer crying, but thinking about if he’s really going to change. Or will it just be an empty promise…

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed ittt. BTWW I’ve been SO obsessed with hotd so I definitely will be posting some Cregan fics😏🙏🏾 As always like and reblog to show supporttt

[millerflintstone]

I think the entire load up process took almost 8 hours. The van got to us at 7:30 am ish but the loaders didn't show up until 8 am, which was the earlier part of the estimated window.

The van contains two other loads. Both are military related moves.

I was talking to the driver and I did ask about how that works. The van has separate side doors for each section, so no one load determines the order of unloading. The mattress is the marker point for the end point of one load. There are divider/retaining cords that keeps the other load apart from ours.

The process is more technological than it was 18 years ago. The driver was the one putting numbered stickers on everything and entering detailed notes for any damage to existing items. Our stickers are a different color. He told us he's glad this was just a regular house vs military related move. For those, they have to enter serial numbers, additional details, and they really have to note down any damage. He gave us an example with one of our items that had a nick on it. If the nick existed and he didn't note it down, the clients could easily claim damage for the price of the entire item. Apparently the military folks take classes regarding this, too. IDK about that one.

We took up the rest of the truck!

We also timed it so that the junk haulers would show up at 4. They were a little early but it worked out. They even blew out the garage with a leaf blower.

Anyway, that part is done. The driver is headed to Arkansas and then a military fort in TX. We're his last stop.

As for the rest of today -we returned Xfinity's crap, got some dinner, and ate sitting on the floor. I went through all of our home related paperwork and threw out stuff the new folks won't need. Tomorrow we load up my car, throw any remaining shit out and leave for New Mexico!

[stardustrebels]

More of You- Chapter 7

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader

WC: 4.1k Rating: 18+ for eventual smut, MDNI Series Masterlist | Blog Masterlist Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

Tags: No outbreak!AU. Coffee shop meet-cute with a slow-ish burn. Sickly sweet fluff, some angst and eventual smut. Joel is 42, reader is mid 30s. Sarah is 19. No use of Y/N, minimal descriptions of reader. She has hair long enough to tie back, wears skirts and dresses and wears makeup.

Chapter Warnings: descriptions of anxiety/ panic, angst, infidelity (not by Joel or reader), brief mention of narcissistic behaviour/ abuse (not by Joel or reader) bereavement, alcohol as a coping mechanism (not in any detail) brief mention of hospitals and death (not in any detail)

A/N: There’s a lot of anxiety in this chapter and a big dollop of angst as well, poor reader has been through it. Honestly, is still going through it. We’re nearing the end of the slow part of the burn, I promise. I wanted to do this chapter justice, and give reader’s past some time to be explored. Just a little further and it’s back to Joel and reader fluffy fun times for a while! Shout out to my friend Lawyer Mike for answering my random pedantic questions about NY State property and notary laws among other things. Without further ado, I hope you enjoy!

The thought struck you after Joel had rushed out of Harrison’s: you’d agreed to meet him again tomorrow. Tomorrow was Saturday. He’d told you he had been grabbing coffee from there every morning before heading to the office, so did that mean he worked weekends? You figured you could ask him when you saw him, and you added it to the list of questions buzzing around your brain.  

The only word you could use to describe how you felt as you flitted around downtown doing chores that afternoon was giddy. Everything in the world seemed brighter, easier, better. You replayed every detail of your conversation, almost in disbelief that it actually happened. If Joel hadn’t had to leave so suddenly, you’re sure you’d have gotten lost in his dark, soulful eyes for several more hours. Amazingly, the reality of him had been even better than what you imagined in your head. You grinned to yourself, remembering the way his touch had sent a jolt through you that you were still buzzing from.

By the time you got to your apartment late that afternoon, you’d decided you needed to reign in the excitement a little. Getting so caught up in a man you’d had one conversation with was insane. You hadn’t even managed to get his number- he’d left so quickly you didn’t get the chance. 

Your phone had been buzzing on and off the whole way home and you’d assumed it was Summer, frantically reacting to the photo you’d sent her of Joel’s coffee cup. Your hands were so full of grocery bags you couldn’t check it. As soon as you got through the door, dropped your bags and checked your phone, your stomach dropped, the smile fading from your face in an instant. There were no messages from Summer. There were, however, three missed calls from your lawyer’s office. 

Hands trembling, you called them back. 

“We have the final paperwork for the apartment sale ready to go,” your lawyer had told you, “It has to be signed by close of business on Monday,”

When you’d asked if you could sign it electronically, she’d said no. Something about state regulations. A wave of dread washed over you and did your best to keep your voice steady as you confirmed the appointment in their New York office for first thing on Monday morning. In person. 

Once the call had ended, you tried to ignore the ringing in your ears against the emptiness of the apartment, the acidic feeling rising in your throat at the thought of what you’d just agreed to do. Your chest tightened, and for a moment, the room swam. Pressing your palms flat against the kitchen counter grounded you somewhat. 

“Okay,” you said aloud, voice trembling, “It’s fine. I can handle this.” 

You forced yourself to take a breath and straighten up. The knot in your stomach didn’t loosen entirely, but it was manageable for now. Hands still shaking, you opened your laptop and began searching for flights. 

The only available flight was early Saturday morning. You closed your eyes briefly and took another deep breath. You didn’t want to have to think about any of this, let alone face it, but you had to. Just this final time and you’d be done with it all. You booked the flight, a hotel and a return for Monday afternoon in one fell swoop. 

You didn’t move again until your phone buzzed on the counter next to you, making you jump. It was Summer, messaging to reschedule brunch. Just as well, you thought- now you didn’t need to cancel on her and have to explain why, or worse, lie about it. 

Hey you, so sorry to do this, but I’ve gotta bail on brunch tomorrow. Forgot I was out of town! Can we reschedule for next weekend? I promise to make it up to you (mimosas on me!) Hope you have a good weekend, can’t wait to hear all about Mr. Miller! 

You read her message twice; eyes refusing to focus on the words on the first pass. The relief at not having to be the one to cancel gave way to fresh anxiety. 

Joel. You had no way to tell him you wouldn’t be able to meet tomorrow.

You pressed the heels of your hands in to your eyes so hard you saw stars, willing the tension away, but it only made the rapidly encroaching headache worse. 

You couldn’t ask Summer to meet him and pass on a message, she was out of town, and you didn’t know anyone else in Austin, at least not well enough to ask them. 

Could you go back to Harrison’s and leave a message behind the counter for him? You glanced at the clock on your stove and your stomach dropped- Harrison’s had closed for the day and didn’t open again until well after your flight left tomorrow. 

Maybe an email? Absolutely not. The only way you could do that would be to take it from his business’ website, and he hadn’t actually told you the name of it, so you’d look like a top tier creeper.

You let out a shaky laugh at the absurdity of it all, dropped in to a chair by the window and closed your eyes, forcing yourself to inhale deeply, counting to four, and exhale slowly. Again. And again. Like you’d been taught. The ache in your head dulled a little, giving you room to think. 

What was the worst that could happen? If he showed up and you weren’t there, maybe he’d wait for a while. Maybe he’d leave disappointed. Maybe you’d never see him again. Maybe he’d be there every morning whether you were or not. 

The uncertainty was unbearable, but you realised there was nothing you could do about it. You had to sign the papers. You wanted to be rid of everything in New York once and for all. If Joel was there the next time you managed to get to Harrison’s, you’d apologise and hope that he understood.

You opened your eyes and stared out at the street below through tear-blurred vision. The realisation that things were out of your control didn’t make you feel better, exactly, but it was better than focusing on the endless cycle of what-ifs. A mirthless laugh bubbled up in your throat; of course this would all happen on the one day you had considered the possibility that you could finally move on with your life. 

By the time you boarded your flight on Saturday morning, you were exhausted. You’d spent half the night overthinking and the other half suspended in a state of dread. You tried not to think about Joel, but it was impossible as you watched the time you were supposed to meet him come and go. You cursed yourself for the thousandth time that morning for not getting his number. You could have at least let him know where you were, and he might have even texted you over the next couple of days and balanced out the unpleasantness. 

Mid-morning New York City greeted you with its usual chaos, and you were in no mood to participate in it by the time you landed. You travelled to Midtown by train, checked in to your hotel, made it to the room and promptly shut the curtains. The city loomed outside and you didn’t feel remotely ready to face it.

You sank down on to the edge of the bed and it struck you suddenly that the wallpaper was almost the same colour as the bedroom walls of the apartment you shared with your ex. That deep green that you’d both agreed on after a debate over swatches one rainy afternoon. You’d painted that room together, dancing around to Queen’s Greatest Hits, laughing when you realised that both of your faces were covered in flecks of paint, like tiny green freckles. 

You had laughed a lot back then. At in-jokes you shared, at stupid movies you watched ‘ironically’, at his bad jokes, at memes he’d send you on his lunch break, at the ridiculous dance moves he’d break out to cheer you up when you had a bad day. He’d promised you all of it forever when he proposed, late one night in the dead of winter, bundled up under blankets surrounded by that shade of green. You had believed him when he’d told you forever; how could you not when everything felt entirely effortless?

A smile passed over your lips, bittersweet and fleeting, before the memory burned away in your mind’s eye, replaced with a gut-wrenching ire, as all your memories of him were. After your engagement, the happiness had dissipated, slowly at first, then all at once. 

In place of laughter, arguments that had started as small, silly disagreements grew in to silences that stretched for hours, then days. He no longer sent you messages on his lunch break, had no time to spend with you, let alone watch movies any more. You caught him smiling at his phone more than your attempts at resurrecting silly old in-jokes. When you stopped all correspondence with your wedding vendors, he didn’t even ask why.

When he started spending nights away from home, the excuses had been plausible enough at first; late nights at the office, work nights out, meeting up with friends from college you’d never heard him talk about before. Your questions had been met with cool indifference until one night when they’d been met with a wild, angry outburst. You’d stopped asking after that. 

A feeling of uneasiness had started to follow you around in your every day;  suspicions that you knew you had to do something about, you just weren’t sure what. Complicated feelings, causing you to examine your definitions of love and hate, and trying to establish whether one always came with a healthy dose of the other, whether you were willing to compromise and hope for somewhere in the middle. All of your feelings had been horrifyingly validated when your entire world came crashing down around you overnight. 

You remembered every detail about it with sickening clarity- waking up alone in bed to the sharp ring of your phone at an hour when no one should have been calling, the voice on the other end telling you there had been an accident. You’d barely processed the words before you were pulling on clothes and a coat, rushing to the hospital, heart beating wildly in your chest. 

But you’d arrived too late. They’d told you he hadn’t made it in words too clinical and detached. They’d handed you a bag with his belongings, and you’d clutched it to your chest in an empty waiting room for an hour, staring blankly at the floor. 

And then, there had been her.

She had been waiting for you in the corridor, bruised and shaken. You didn’t know her face then, but you’d learn it soon enough. She had been in the car with him and survived, miraculously, with only minor injuries. You’d had nothing more to offer her than a vacant stare as she explained everything- hysterical, face blotchy with tears. When you hadn’t said anything, she’d panicked and begged you to let her come to his funeral, said that she loved him too, that he would want her there. She’d known he was dead before you had.

You swallowed hard and rubbed at your temples, as you brought yourself back to the moment, forcing yourself to take a deep breath. You didn’t want any of this to pull you under, even if you were being forced to confront it again, so you decided to spend the rest of the day at the hotel bar, ignoring anyone who tried to speak to you, mulling over just how rough the next couple of days were going to be.

You tried to keep your routine- you went to a coffee shop first thing on Sunday, sat next to the window and watched the world go by. But everything was wrong; the coffee, the view out of the window, the absence of a certain someone, even the noise around you. The overwhelming buzz of the city used to excite you, now it just left you with a sinking, empty feeling in the pit of your stomach; something that almost felt like fear. 

As you watched people hurry past, every sip you took was more bitter than the last. You had a whole day to kill, and while you had considered spending it in your hotel room, you couldn’t bring yourself to stare at those green walls any longer. 

Determined not to let anxiety dictate the day, you decided to visit some of the places you’d once loved, the spots in the city where you’d spent so much time it felt like you’d left pieces of yourself in them.

The MoMA was first on your list - a place you’d always considered a sanctuary. Wandering through the galleries that morning, you were relieved to find that it still had the same calming effect on your nerves. You took your time, moving from room to room in silence, letting the morning pass leisurely, surrounded by familiar, beautiful pieces of art.

From there, you walked to Bryant Park, where you used to sit with a book on sunny afternoons. The lawn was full of people enjoying the unseasonably warm weather and you were inclined to join them. By early afternoon, you were almost ready to admit that you were having a nice time. You crossed a few more spots off the list- you’d stuck to Midtown, consciously avoiding anywhere that might trigger any more memories, and so far, it had worked. You felt a tentative sense of accomplishment, and allowed yourself a moment to bask in it. 

The moment didn’t last very long. You were crossing the street when you saw him- or you thought you did. The man walking toward you, tall and lean, had the same blonde hair, the same confident stride, the same style of suit that your ex had favoured. Your heart seized, and for a second, you couldn’t breathe. You gawped after the man as he passed you, but he didn’t even spare you a glance. 

It wasn’t him. You knew it wasn’t. But the resemblance was enough to send a shockwave through your system. You turned abruptly, ducking into the nearest doorway, which happened to be a bookstore. 

Inside, you beelined for the back of the shop, hoping to find a quiet spot to let your breathing even out. Your chest felt tight as you tried to count the books on the shelves in front of you, the titles on the spines blurring together. It took a while, but gradually the tightness began to ease. You found an empty chair tucked in to a corner, plopped down on to it and let the panic drain from your body. 

Eyes wandering over the shelves, you finally took in your surroundings. You were in the travel section. And, directly opposite you, at eye level, was an entire shelf dedicated to Texas guidebooks. 

A laugh rose in your throat before you could stop it. It wasn’t loud, more of a choked exhale than anything. Of all the aisles in this, apparently massive, bookstore, you’d managed to park yourself in this one. As you leaned forward and read some of the titles, a smile crept across your face.

It felt like a reassurance- like a small, strange nudge from something bigger than you; a reminder that better things were waiting for you when all of this was over. You plucked the one with the brightest colours from the shelf and made your way to the cash desk, earlier panic almost forgotten. 

The next morning, you checked out of the hotel without a backwards glance and hauled your case a few blocks to the lawyer’s office to arrive just as they opened. 

It was a sterile and impersonal place, all polished wood, glass and muted tones. You sat across from your attorney, the pen in your hand feeling heavier by the minute. 

“This is the last one,” she said, sliding the final document across to you. “Once you sign here, the sale is finalised, and I promise we won’t need anything more from you in person.” 

You nodded, not trusting yourself to speak and your hand moved automatically, scrawling your signature on the dotted line. The act was over so fast it felt surreal. 

“You’re all set,” the lawyer said, gathering all the documents together, “Congratulations on the sale!”

Congratulations. The word rang hollow in your ears. You murmured a polite thank you, stood, and shook her hand. The smile you offered was thin, stretched over the exhaustion that had suddenly hit you. 

You felt drained when you left the office- in every way imaginable. The sale of your apartment should have felt freeing- like closure, but it didn’t. Perhaps that would come later, you mused, once you were further away from it. 

You hailed a cab without hesitation, desperate to leave. As the driver navigated through familiar streets, you kept your gaze fixed on your lap. You were loathe to give this city any more of your attention. 

By the time you unlocked the door to your apartment in Austin, you were exhausted. The journey back had been blissfully uneventful, and every mile you travelled had chipped away at the tension in your shoulders, but the last few days had finally caught up with you.

You dropped your bag by the door and made your way to the kitchen to immediately pour a glass of the ‘celebration wine’ you’d left in there on Friday, primed and ready for your return. As you stood against the counter, eyes closed, taking another large gulp from your glass, it felt like you could finally relax. 

The city outside your apartment hummed quietly, its sound different than the one you’d just come from. It was probably your imagination, but it felt softer - kinder, even. It was a sound you’d grown used to, had maybe even come to enjoy. This wasn’t home, not yet, but there was a comfort in being back in a space that was undeniably yours. Solace from being in a city that was free from the presence of ghosts. 

You arrived at Harrison’s the next morning five minutes after they opened, and tried not to feel self conscious at being the only customer in the whole place. It didn’t take long before other people trickled in though, causing the nervousness in the pit of your stomach to subside just a little. 

You tried to tell yourself it didn’t matter- that if Joel wasn’t there or didn’t want to talk to you, it wasn’t the end of the world, but you’d ordered a black coffee for him just in case. You stared at the cup opposite you- it was probably cold by now. 

When the door swung open and Joel walked in, your heart jumped. You’d almost forgotten how handsome he was. You called out to him before he could order and when his eyes landed on you his steps faltered. You waved him over with a bright smile, but the expression on his face gave you pause. His brow furrowed and an unreadable expression flickered across his face as he hesitated near the counter. 

A pang of anxiety twisted in your chest. Maybe he didn’t want to talk to you after all. You tried to keep the smile on your face, but the thought that you might have truly messed up your chance with him made your throat tighten. Finally, he crossed the room and sat down across from you, but the expression didn’t fade. You gave him another, smaller, smile and gestured to the coffee in front of him. 

“Hey. I, uh… I wasn’t sure if you’d be here but I thought I’d try and make up for the days I missed if you were,” you said, sheepishly, “I realised after you left that I didn’t ask for your number and I felt like such an idiot. I had to fly back to New York last minute for… a family thing and I-”

His face finally broke in to a smile and he let out a soft laugh, thankfully interrupting you mid- ramble. 

“Hey, darlin,” he said, his hand that rested on the table made a gentle dismissive gesture. “Don’t worry about it. I’m just real glad to see you again.” 

The fondness in his voice sent a wave of relief washing over you. You let out a breath and your bright smile returned. The last ounce of worry that had been gnawing at you seemed to evaporate. 

“I’m glad to see you too,” you said, and hoped that he knew you really meant it. Joel glanced down at the coffee you’d bought for him and you reached out to stop him from drinking it with a nervous laugh.

“Stay put,” you said, the tension breaking as you stood, “I’ll order you a fresh one.”

“So,” Joel said after a sip from his new cup of coffee, his gaze soft and intent on you. “What took you back to New York?”

You’d mentioned to him on Friday that you’d not long moved to Austin from NYC and given him some very vague reasoning before moving on swiftly to a different topic. But now, as he sat across from you, eyebrows raised in genuine curiosity, and given that it seemed to have disrupted his last couple of days as well as yours, you felt like you owed it to him to give him at least an honest answer.

“I’ll spare you the boring details,” you said, trying to be flippant. “I had to sign for the sale of an apartment. There was a.. tight deadline on it.”

Joel’s eyebrows raised further in surprise, but he didn’t say anything. You continued, “I didn’t want to go, but they said it couldn’t be done electronically and it was all a bit last minute, and extremely shitty. Well, most of it. I managed to visit a few of my old favourite spots.”

You shifted the focus and told Joel about the MoMA, about your favourite artworks there, about how much time you spent wandering around the place when you’d lived in New York. Joel listened intently, chiming in with questions from time to time, and you happily answered them, as long as there was no more talk of anything else you did in New York. 

Eventually, he glanced at his watch and sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly. “Hate to cut this short again sugar, but I gotta head to the office.” 

“Of course,” you said, standing as he did. “I don’t want to be the reason you’re late again.” 

Joel chuckled, grabbing his jacket and gathering up the coffee cups from the table. “This time, I’m not in a rush.” 

You told him you should go too, that you had some client deadlines looming and had to catch up on some work. It turned out as you stepped outside that you were both heading in the same direction; him to his office and you back to your apartment. You fell in to step as you walked side by side, and the conversation picked up from where it had left off easily. At one point, Joel glanced at you, his tone light and hopeful. 

“I figure we oughta exchange numbers. That is, if you’d like to?” 

You beamed up at him, pulling out your phone. “I’d love to.”

The two of you swapped phones and typed in your numbers. When he handed yours back, his fingers brushed against your palm and lingered too long to be accidental.

As you approached a corner, Joel slowed. “This is me,” he said, jabbing a thumb in the direction of his office. 

You smiled, pointing in the opposite direction. “And this is me.” 

“Unless you plan on jettin’ off to another city…” Joel’s lips curved in to a teasing smile. “Same time tomorrow?”

Without thinking, you reached out, lightly touching his arm as you laughed. “Same time, same place,” you promised, your smile lingering. “I really mean it this time.”

Joel’s eyes softened, his gaze dropping briefly to where your hand rested on his arm before flitting back to yours. He stepped just a little closer and the air between you seemed to still. His fingers brushed against your elbow, the lightest of touches, but it sent a shiver racing up your spine. Neither of you moved for a beat too long, his eyes flicking down to your lips, just for a second. 

“Have a good day, darlin’,” he said sincerely, taking a step back and dropping his hand. You already missed his touch. 

“You too,” you said with a smile, voice steady despite the way your heart was hammering against your ribcage. 

He gave you one last grin before he turned away with a nod. You stood there for a moment watching him disappear down the block, before finally heading toward your apartment. If you’d had the energy, you would have skipped all the way. 

Next Chapter

[luke-hughes43]

beautiful crazy | luke and melissa

luke and mel enjoying their retired life and life as parents after the NHL and catching up with their closest friends and families.

*there's a couple of time jumps in this but it's their adult life after college and into the NHL and after. maybe with Luke being involved at the NTDP*

(I kept the ages vague and gave random names for their kids since we haven't talked about it yet)

~

her day starts with a coffee, and ends with a wine, takes forever gettin' ready, so she's never on time for anything

mel is very much a morning person compared to luke. she didn't always used to be a morning person but early morning workouts in college to having kids converted her into being an early riser despite her husband being in a deep sleep.

mel is up between 5 and 5:30 every morning to enjoy some peace and quiet before her teenage kids wake up. she's enjoying her coffee when at about 5:15, she feels a pair of arms wrap around her face. she knows it's luke.

"come back to bed." he mumbles into her neck. she giggles, "no. I'm enjoying my coffee in the peace and quiet before the kids get up. bridgette has a skate at 6:15, and christian is doing off ice at 6:00 with mini duke. delaney said she'd come too and just do her own workout in the gym at the rink before school."

"what time will you be home?" luke mumbles again, holding mel tighter.

mel smiles at her sleepy, clingy husband. she runs her fingers through his curls and says, "I drop the girls off at school at 7:45. so I'll be home at like 8 ish. when do you have to be at the rink?"

"8:30. I'll be leaving when you get home but I'm only there for half the day since the kids have school for the second half. and I took a half day anyways so I can spend time with you."

mel smiles and leans into luke's hold until she hears her first born moving around upstairs. she sighs, "and bridgette is up. goddamn early bird child."

"she gets it from you." Luke smirks and kisses mel's cheek. mel smiles, "while she obviously didn't get it from you. christian and del definitely did from you."

Luke goes to protests but they hear a "mom?!" coming from bridgette's bathroom and mel says, "duty calls. I love you babe." and kisses him before going up to their oldest daughter.

"I love you too sweetheart."

when she gets that come-get-me look in her eyes, well it kinda scares me, the way that she drives me wild, and she drives me wild

luke gets home from a long day at the rink with christian to see mel cooking dinner and doing the dishes. he asks over to hug her and give her a kiss but also to steal a piece of chicken.

mel slaps his hand and scolds him, "luke warren absolutely not. go take a shower before touching this. I don't need your hockey smelling hands contaminating dinner."

"I'm offended honey. really."

"I don't care. go shower." mel says sternly. she turns and gives him a look that says "if you don't get your butt upstairs and take a shower you're sleeping on the couch." luke recognizes the look and immediately retreats to shower.

he says as he's going up the stairs, "I love you!"

"go shower luke. then I'll tell you I love you." mel shorts back at him. he chuckles and just goes to shower before mel killed him.

beautiful crazy, she can't help but amaze me, the way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances, and wears her heart on her sleeve, yeah she's crazy, but her crazy's beautiful to me

(this is while they are still in the NHL, it's gonna be shea's wedding so part of mel telling Luke she's pregnant, maybe for their third kid.)

mel is sitting with ethan's wife for a few minutes sipping on water since she can't drink. luke walks over, extends his hand, and smiles, "may I have this dance mrs. hughes?"

she looks at ethan's wife who nods and mel smiles, "you may mr. hughes." she lets him pull her onto the dance floor for a slow dance. something they don't get to do often. mel comments, "I'm so happy for shea. he looks so happy and grown up."

"yea. you always had a soft spot for him didn't you?"

"of course I did. you left me alone with him and gavin for a year and someone had to supervise them. I grew close with him and he's the little brother I never wanted but got stuck with anyways."

"I don't know if I've ever told you this but one of the things that I fell in love with about you is your ability to open your heart to anyone. especially the important people in my life."

"well if they are important to you then they are important to me. we're in this life together luke."

"that's what I mean. you took shea in your arms in college and kept him under your wing while he made the transition. and I know it meant a lot to him."

"he's family. it was a no brainer." mel smiles up at her husband. Luke leans down and presses a soft but long kiss to her lips. he mumbles against them, "I love you mel. my crazy girl."

"I love you too Luke."

she makes plans for the weekend, can't wait to go out, till she changes her mind, and says, "let's stay on the couch and watch TV", and she falls asleep

"come on Luke, let's get the whole gang back together for the weekend, send the kids to your parents or my parents or to their friends and just have a weekend with our friends with no kids and no responsibilities. like college all over again. it will be fun, and we haven't seen some of them in ages with mackie, mark, and ethan moving out of michigan."

"fine. but you have to promise not to change your mind about it. because even if you do, it's still happening and they'll still be here."

"I won't change my mind." mel says nodding with smile, excited about their friends coming to town.

~day before their friends come to town~

"luke, are we sure they're still coming tomorrow?" mel asks while cooking dinner. luke rolls his eyes and nods, "yes. you aren't getting out of it."

"but I really just wanna wear sweats and watch tv with you."

"not happening. and we do that every night. they are coming and it's final." he says looking her in the eye. mel nods and mumbles "fine" under her breath.

~night of~

after the first hour of catching up and being excited to see everyone, they all gather around the fire pit on the back patio. mel is curled up on luke's lap and after being under the blanker with luke rubbing her back for 30 minutes, she's out cold. luke chuckles and dylan asks, "what's so funny hughesy?"

"mel is out cold."

"typical mel." ethan comments. mark adds, "some things never change." both of their wives smack them for their comments but everyone knows it's true. she always suggests doing something and then curls up on luke's lap and falls asleep pretty quickly.

beautiful crazy, she can't help but amaze me, the way that she dances, ain't afraid to take chances, and wears her heart on her sleeve, yeah she's crazy, but her crazy's beautiful to me

mel is sitting in her office, in late july, on her computer to organize the family calendar to make sure that her and luke can get all of the kids where they need to be. luke comes home to his wife hard at work once again. he smiles, "do you ever take a break baby?"

mel jumps, not hearing him walk in. she says, "no. because if I take a break, the kids don't get where they need to be. because christian was so focused on hockey this summer that he never took his road test, bridge moves into holy cross in 3 weeks, and Delaney is coming back from pgf with lauren and sophia in 3 days and she has a camp at michigan when she gets back."

"woah, just relax for a second mel. it's gonna be ok. just breathe." luke says softly and pulls mel up from the desk and into a hug. mel lets out a deep breath and asks luke, "were we crazy for signing our kids up for so many activities as a kids and they kept that schedule into their teen years? like did we cause this because this is what we did?"

"no at all. we told them that if they didn't wanna do any of this that they didn't have to. and that just drove them even more. they get their crazy dedicated work ethic from you sweetheart."

"I'm not crazy dedicated, I'm just passionate." mel argues back against luke's chest. he chuckles, "you say passionate, most people say crazy. but you're my crazy girl and I love that about you. and don't worry about the kids, we'll figure it out mel. we always do."

"are you sure?" mel questions. luke nods, "I'm sure. I'll tell christian that he had to schedule a road test before school starts with the program or else he can find a different ride to the rink. and del will figure out what she wants for college soon, she's only a sophomore don't forget. and we'll get bridgette to worcester. you're parents are still nearby and I'm sure they'd be willing be to help out. but we got it melissa, I promise."

"never melissa me again." mel says looking up at him.

"I won't. I just used tot o get my point across." luke chuckled and kissed her head. he just holds her close and enjoying a moment to themselves in their very busy lives. mel is understanding how jim and ellen felt reading quinn, jack, and luke.

she's crazy, she's crazy, but her crazy's beautiful to me, her crazy's beautiful to me

luke is never not amazed but how go-go-go his wife is when it comes to the kids and how organized she has everything. he loves seeing her take control of the situation and get everything handled using her crazy methods to do so and is never not so deeply in love with mel that it hurts him to even think about a life without her.

[becausegraf]

'Why does Blitz care so much about Loona, when he seems to be kind of a self-centered uncaring dick for the most part'

This question popped up on my feed today somewhere, and it made me want to drop some thoughts.

First of all, about Blitz as 'uncaring' well - we've seen him in a protector role with Fizz when they were teenagers - looking out for people and standing in the line of fire for them to take the heat is what he did then, and he still does now. In battle he doesn't hesitate to shield the others and take risks for them if needed, you even see him do this with Fizz on the day they rekindled their friendship.

Heck, even when he was really young, he caved in to emotional manipulation of the 'surely you want to be able to help take care of/do things for your mama'.

Blitz 100% absolutely cares a LOT about the people he's attached to, and it's a massive vulnerable spot for him that gets him all tangled up in his feelings sometimes.

Now, about Loona -

TL;DR: Blitz has been through a completely wrecking, horrible experience, and in Loona he saw someone on the verge of dropping off the same kind of cliff he had to claw his way back up from all by himself. He recognised the danger she was in, and stepped in to save her from having to go through the same thing.

Emotional gushing and elaboration below.

If you do the math on timelines... 25 years passed between his first and second meeting with Stolas. Octavia is 17 at the time the show starts and would've been 16-17 at the time Blitz came to nick the book, meaning ~7-8 years passed between their first meeting and Via being born. Assuming Stolas was *actually* already an adult when she was born, that means he and Blitz couldn't be much younger than ~10 when they first met. Assuming Blitz and Stolas were roughly the same age at the time, that'd make Blitz somewhere around 35 years old, and thus...

about 20 tops, 15 years prior, when things went horrendously to shit.

Some assumptions would be that for the sake of relatability and understanding, imp society with regards to ages and milestones probably works largely the same as ours.

As an adult, nobody *has* to step in and take care of you.

My conclusion is that after the fire, Blitz was basically cast out, left injured and homeless to fend for himself completely alone.

He had to figure things out going through an absolute nightmare of having lost the *only* adult we know seemed to actually be there to shelter and love him, nearly killed his best friend and crush, and gotten rejected by his father and sister (and presumably the rest of the circus troop as well).

Blitz was left with *nobody*, zero zip nada not a single person who'd give enough of a fuck to help him out, at the lowest point of his life. We don't *know* yet what kind of shit he went through throughout his twenties, other than leaving a trail of heartbroken exes in his wake, and getting into the killing business somehow.

The picture painted by a 20-year old with nowhere to go in *actual hell* to me isn't a pretty one. The comment he made that one time about having developed a high tolerance to tranquilizers 'in college'? College of hard knocks, maybe.

So, fastforward to Blitz, roughly age 30 - 5-ish years before the show, assuming Loona was adopted when she was almost 18 and is now ~22 years old.

It seems to me like he was at the pound looking for a hellhound in the context of recruiting someone to help out with whatever (probably dangerous) gig he had going at the time, and then -

He's shown a 17-year old, *about to get thrown out on the streets with nothing, with nobody to look out for her and give her a safe place to stay*. A traumatized, struggling barely-an-adult, about to go through the same as he did: to be ditched to your fate with nobody to turn to and nothing but the clothes on your back as personal belongings. Nowhere safe to go, nobody to reach for.

There was no fucking way he could just let that happen, when he was right there as probably the only person who had the chance to take her in and spare her that nightmare. He was able to catch her before she had to fall entirely through the cracks like he did.

He gave her a safe place to go, shelter and food and basic safety. He was there as someone who'd go to bat for her and absorb her hostility and distrust and anger and fear, because he *knows* what it's like to be in survival mode amped up on pain and terror feeling backed into a corner. He *knows* how being rejected and cast aside fucks with your head. He might not really understand this explicitly the way a therapist would, but he's been there, and it makes him not take her grouchiness and problems personally or as a reason to dismiss her.

Blitz and his loyalty to Loona really feels like a special bond they have as survivors, even if they might not consciously see it that way.

Blitz and Stolas with their respective daughters are very similar in that regard: the older generation that had to figure things out alone and got embroiled in horrible situations as a result of their inexperience and lack of support, and has nothing but love and devotion to give to their youngsters. They both want to give them the entire world they managed to build for themselves, even if what they've made of themselves is makeshift and missing critical pieces. They want to give them a better life, the love and support they never had themselves but understand the importance of.

Stolas and Blitz didn't have mentors to learn 'how to adult' from. They made things up as they went, getting warped and remaining stunted in ways. But they made it through, and they suffered while somehow keeping enough of their heart intact to still be capable of feeling compassion and connection to these special young ladies they want to see grow and flourish.

[dailyfatefigures]

that said dear followers, a word to the wise: if you're on a trip to japan and want to go figure shopping, you can just skip akihabara entirely, every store is crowded and everything's marked up. i stayed in a hotel in akiba for my first 4(?) days (don't quote me on that i can't count) and i ended up only getting 7 figures there, which sounds like a lot until you realize 1 of them was from a gashapon machine, 3 were from amiami's physical store and like. if you're into figure collecting at all i think you probably understand that you do not need to go on vacation to buy things from fucking amiami. and 1 (2 technically. the gashapon machine was in there too) was from don quijote, a department store you can find p much anywhere in japan (and also made me cry <3). so that leaves two figures and both of them were prizes and fairly common ones to stumble across too. if you want to go figure shopping in japan go to nakano broadway trust me on this one, it's everything you think akiba's going to be but w less people. they had so many rare old cheap and niche options and i was only there for ~30 minutes and didn't even fully cover the 2nd floor (you can skip the first one and the basement there isn't much otaku stuff there) bc i was rushing to catch a plane. i still walked away from nakano w 13 figures and 3 of those dubiously figure-ish keychains you want to count as figures but mfc disagrees w you on.

[clairelutra]

A dead cheap extremely spoonie-friendly recipe that I constantly get compliments on:

Chili (adapted from this recipe)

2 tbsp cooking oil (preferably olive but basically any mild cooking oil works, as does butter/butter substitute/etc)

1 diced onion (any size, try to go for 1-2 cups of diced onion total, as your heart desires) (can be bought diced if need be)

SPICES*

1-5 cloves of garlic (chopped, minced, jarred, etc)

3 15oz drained cans of beans (your preferred mix of black, kidney, pinto, red, garbanzo, etc)

1 14.5oz can of diced tomatoes

1 6oz can of tomato paste

1lbs ground meat (beef, pork, turkey, chicken, whatever) (optional)

1 tbsp sugar (make sure it's normal sugar, not a substitute)

1 cup of water (or beef/chicken/vegetable stock)

OPTIONAL: Leftover vegetables/mushrooms/etc, 1 drained can of corn, 1-2 tbsp of worcestershire sauce, extra bullion, a splash of soy sauce

Spices:

1 tsp cumin

1/2 tsp onion powder

1/4 tsp garlic powder

1 tbsp smoked paprika and/or chili powder (the mild spice blend, make sure you're getting that unless you know what you're doing)

1 tsp salt

OPTIONAL: 1/2-1 tsp smoked paprika, 1/2-1 tsp Italian seasoning/oregano/dried herb of choice, 1/4 tsp cayenne, 1/2 tsp black pepper

Instructions:

Oil in big pot over ~medium heat until it's fizzling

Measure the spices into a bowl

Put the onions in the pot with the oil, dump the spices on top and stir it around

Set a timer for 3 minutes and go sit down while you open and drain the cans. Stir when the timer goes off and then set it again and sit.

When the onions look like they're probably translucent-ish (6-9 minutes for me), add the garlic. If it's raw cloves chopped big, cook em for 5 minutes. Raw pressed or chopped small, 1-2 minutes. Jarred, not at all.

Add in the meat, if using. Poke and stab and stir until it's in cooked crumbles and there's no pink left. Take breaks to sit if you need to.

Add all the cans, all at once (beans, tomatoes, tomato paste, any extra canned vegetables), plus the water/stock and any other vegetables you might be using.

Stir until it's all combined, and sit and wait for it to boil (big bubbles) stirring occasionally, then drop the heat until it's only giving you small bubbles

Set a timer for 30 minutes and let it simmer, stirring every 5-10 minutes.

This is the time to start adjusting things by taste if you're into that. Add more salt or bullion or soy/worcestershire or sugar as needed -- the sugar is to help cut the acid from the tomatoes and can offset bitterness from the spices if you messed those up. Go tsp by tsp and taste after every addition.

It's good to eat after 30 minutes of simmering, but you can leave it there for an hour or two and it'll only get better.

NOTES:

I am a biiiiig wimp about heat and leave out the cayenne and pepper and only use smoked paprika, but I have it on good authority that it's very good with heat as well

Costs as low as $5-7, depending on whether you already have the spices and if you can chop an onion, if you make it vegetarian.

Makes like 6+ solid meals.

All the ingredients except the meat are shelf stable or long-lifed at room temp, so it's good for leaving in the cupboard as a backup meal

It's extremely adaptable. You can make it with just about any combo of canned beans you might have around, you can make it with whatever the cheapest ground meat is currently, it's already dairy-free and you can make it vegetarian or vegan or whatever. Use up old veggies in the fridge and grab your favorite savory spices.

The process can be done almost entirely sitting, if you need to. If you have slightly more money and you're very low energy, you can buy pre-chopped onion.

It's pretty forgiving if you're prone to forgetfulness. The only things that really need to go in order are the onions and meat, because the onions need to break down and flavor the meat, and the meat needs to be crumbled before it goes into the liquid. I forgot to add the meat at the right time once and came out with a perfectly good vegetarian chili. Yesterday I forgot the garlic until the simmer and dumped it in halfway. The spices need to be simmered for a while, but if you forget until the end somehow, you can add them and let it simmer for another hour. It doesn't burn very easily. You can add water or boil it off if you need it thinner or thicker. There's a very long time in the middle to adjust the flavor if it tastes off.

It was one of the few things that reliably came out good when I was forgetting my sentences in the middle of saying them, so I hope this helps some of you as well!

[joels-shitty-puns]

The Key To Your Heart - Track 7

Pairing: Pedro Pascal x Musician!Reader

Series Summary: After writing your feelings for Pedro into a song, it gains a lot more popularity than expected. Ultimately it brings both criticism and support, with new possibilities around the corner.

Series Warnings: 18+ only (MDNI). Fat shaming, name calling, kissing, angst. Mentions of food, weight loss, weight gain, dieting, weighing, potential eating disorder, food guilt. Potential for puns/dad jokes (name of my blog, and the fic) should give that away. This is my first fic which should be its own warning, lol. Also some cursing. Mentions of masturbation (f) maybe more smut later idk. Sadness, reader is pretty depressed. Poor body image. Rude people. Bullying-ish and just lack of support? Anxiety. Age gap! Reader is in her mid 20's, Pedro is current age (48).

Other stuff: Reader is plus sized. AFAB. Inexperienced. Also has a dog, but you can pretend it is another creature probably. Further, in case it isn't clear, italics almost always are the reader's inner thoughts!

Word Count: 6.6K!!!

Series List: Here!

Miss last chapter? Here!

Hi guys! I'm so sorry this took a little extra longer than usual. I've had a lot of ideas for this chapter for a long time and I struggled with putting it all on paper. I'm also on vacation 🤪 but I really wanted to get this one out there, especially before Halloween. Also I'm sorry if the spacing and stuff is crap, I did this from my phone/iPad while falling asleep at 3:30 AM. Hope you enjoy! Thanks for reading!

__________

You awoke with a start, your alarms blaring through the bedroom. Giving the snooze button a smack, you reach across your mattress, touching the sheets to find the other side of your bed empty.

It was still warm, but missing the actual body that you fell asleep cuddled next to. Blinking your eyes a few times, you called out into the bedroom. "Baby?"

You climbed out of bed, making your way down the hall to the living room, where you finally saw him on the couch. Sound asleep, eyes gently closed, a soft snore passed from his mouth. At the sound of your footsteps, he opened his eyes, giving a big stretch and wagging his tail.

"Good morning Skippy, my little sunshine! I missed your cuddles this morning. Why'd you move to the couch?"

He looked at you and yawned, his eyes closing once again. You giggled and headed for the shower to get ready for another day. Some of us have to actually work and get stuff done in this house!

_____

The day at work was busy, leaving little time to chat with Pedro. You couldn't help but smirk to yourself as your coworkers buzzed about your new album freshly released the day before. They still hadn't figured it out, but you decided you would continue to let it be your little secret a bit longer. They didn't need to know. Just you and Pedro could share this for now.

On your lunch break, you finally opened your phone to find a few text messages from him. "Good morning! I had fun video chatting with you last night. I'm so glad we listened to your album together, and it was nice to finally get to see you." His message made your heart skip.

Second text from Pedro: "Hey, I hope work is going well for you. I was thinking, maybe if you'd like, we could chat again later? If you don't want to video chat anymore, no pressure, but I enjoyed it and thought maybe if you wanted to, we could."

You replied. "Hey P! It's been a crazy day :) but a good one. Especially waking up happy after enjoying a lovely evening. I would really love to video chat with you again too."

Pedro breathed a sigh of relief at your answer. He couldn't help but feel nervous to ask you, despite having just video chatted last night, and he also didn't want to make you feel pressured; especially with someone as private as you are. But with your response, he smiled as he felt his stomach fill with butterflies at the thought of seeing you again.

_____

Later on, after work, the two of you were texting and deciding on the time to video chat again. However, before you called, Pedro texted you again. "Hey, I had a question for you, but I didn't want to ask it over the phone or video call and make you feel pressured. But, there's this Hollywood Halloween party coming up in a few days. I know you still want to keep your identity, but I thought if you'd like to, each guest is allowed to bring a date, and I thought you could mingle a little with some other musicians and actors. I can just tell people you're one of my friends from a set if you don't want to give your real name. You don't need to tell them anything you don't want out to the public. Plus I would love to spend some time together in person too, if you want to. I know it's a lot, so if you would rather not go, I understand. But I'd love to meet you."

The idea of going to a party filled with other celebrities, AND Pedro, had you filled with mixed emotions. Nervous. Excited. Terrified. Love-sick. Hesitant.

After a bit of thinking,you decided, and the answer seemed obvious from the start. The party sounded terrifying, and was completely unknown territory. But you also knew that if you didn't go, you'd surely kick yourself and regret this chance forever.

Finally you replied. "Okay! I'll go. I'd love to spend time with you, too, Pedro. Thank you for inviting me."

He replied again: "Really?! So, will boo be my date? 👻"

You: "That was a little too.. (candy) corny. I may have to ghost you. 🎃"

Pedro didn't miss a beat. "Okay, you're driving me batty. 🦇 Want to call and talk about our costumes?"

Oh shit, I forgot about costumes.

The two of you chatted, easily falling into the comfortable conversations you always do. Fitting together like two peas in a pod. Even though neither of you were dressed up fancy anymore, it didn't feel like you had to be someone else, or dress up. Things were comfortable. Easy.

Pedro suggested a matching costume, which made you want to scream and pace through your living room. Unfortunately, due to your camera situation, pacing and screaming would surely cause some alarm. After dancing around things like pirates, ketchup/mustard, and movie characters, you finally had an idea and suggested Cinderella and her prince.

"It just feels kinda fitting you know? Nobody knows who I am, but I go out for once, I meet this prince, and he lets me have this fun night. But then at the end of the night, everything goes back to normal, and I'm unknown again."

Until he eventually can't stay away and they both fall in love and live happily ever after… but that's neither here nor there. Totally not my intention.. pffft…

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. Should I send a carriage?" He joked with a wink, but you could tell he was a little bit serious. You couldn't help but feel like he would have reserved a carriage ride in a heartbeat had you said yes.

"Absolutely not. Way too big of a scene," you laughed. "In fact, I actually have work that day. Would it be possible for me to just meet you there after I get off work? I can just take an Uber across town. My work isn't too far from the party and I'm sure parking will be a mess."

Pedro agreed, although he felt bad you'd be taking a ride-share service alone and continued to offer a ride if you needed. He also felt a bit disappointed he wouldn't get to have any time alone with you beforehand, but he wasn't about to tell you that detail.

Either way, the two of you agreed on your plans, and as the days led up to the party, you grew more and more eager. You also felt more and more dread in the pit of your stomach.

But this will be good. It has to be. Right?

_____

The night of the party came quickly.

You got off work, took a quick shower, changed into your costume, did your hair, and added a little bit of makeup. The costume felt silly, but you kept telling yourself it was Halloween and everyone would be in costumes. Plus, you have a handsome prince waiting for you inside. As your mind and heart raced, the Uber driver pulled up to the curb, dropped you off, and you were met with a line to the entrance.

The line to the party was lengthy, filled mostly with eager fans, paparazzi, and journalists hoping to gain entry. Occasionally you'd see a celebrity pass by, but they were quickly ushered in once they were recognized.

You, however, were unknown by all. So you stood in line, surrounded by others who hoped desperately to meet their favorite celebrity. Not unlike yourself.

Having finally made it, you sent a quick text to Pedro. "Hey! I'm here :) sorry I'm late."

Your stomach twisted in knots. Sure, you were excited to meet Pedro. Especially with as much as the two of you have been talking over the past couple months now-

Geez, has it really been months?

But despite your connection, you still had that nagging self-conscious worry that he might not like you. Maybe he's just been talking with you to be nice, and the second you're together in person he won't give you the time of day. Maybe he will find you boring in real life. Maybe he will think you're ugly. Or weird. Or fat. Or -

"Next!" The bouncer at the door yelled after sending yet another hopeful fan away. Your stomach dropped and your mouth was dry.

"Hi, I-"

"NAME?" He barked, clearly done with this whole event.

"Well, actu-"

"Speak up princess, I can't hear ya when ya mumblin," the man said with a thick New York accent.

You cleared your throat. "Actually my name isn't on the list, I'm a guest of Pedro Pascal."

The man, towering over you, let out a bellowing laugh. "YEAH, I'm sure ya are, toots. You and every other woman in this joint."

"But I-"

"And trust me, I've turned away much prettier broads than the likes a' you at this doorway," he said while looking you up and down with an amused look as if he had just told the punchline at a comedy club.

Your heart sank. You always said things like that to yourself on the inside, but it wasn't often that people were that blunt to your face.

The man sneered while smacking his gum and arrogantly moving it to the other side of his mouth with his tongue. That gum. You wanted to punch him if you had to hear him smack it one more time.

"Back a' the line, kid. Y'ain't gettin' in here tonight, but I appreciate the self-confidence," he said, laughing at his own joke.

Disheartened, you didn't even care about meeting Pedro anymore. Your mood was dampened, your ego was hurt, and all you wanted to do was go home, get out of this stupid costume, and cry on your couch. With a short nod, you bit your lip to choke down the tears, turned, and headed towards the exit.

"Hey!!! There you are- wait where are you going?"

You'd recognize that voice anywhere. Pedro.

You turned around, swallowing down your emotions and putting on a fake smile, despite the wave of hurt and anxiety pooling in your stomach and chest. "Hey, Pedro! You found me."

Pedro smiled at the guard and snuck past, telling him "hey, she's with me." Fans in line squealed, which he greeted with a kind wave and charming smile. At last, he reached you and gestured for the two of you to head inside to the party. You gave a nod and a small, half-hearted smile.

You didn't want him to know how upset you were. Not only did you feel pathetic and slightly agree with the bouncer, but you also didn't want to ruin Pedro's night.

As the two of you entered the crowded party, you looked around at the decorations. Filled with purple and green lighting, the Halloween music blared and monsters danced the night away. A bowl of green punch sat on a table to the side, surrounded by bowls of candy and platters of snacks. An open bar was on the back wall, providing both normal booze, and Halloween themed drinks topped with gummy worms or syrup made to look like blood. To the right of the bar was a door to the large rooftop balcony which held tall, dark-green potted hedges, perfectly trimmed and shaped underneath rows of charming fairy lights. Beyond the shrubbery, the deck had several nice patio tables and chairs, a few people catching their breath outside or chatting, and a gorgeous view of the city below with the sparkling sky above.

Back inside and off to the right of the patio door, away from the dance floor, was a door which you assumed was the restroom, based on the long line of women.

"I'd like you to meet some people, if you feel up to it," Pedro yelled to be heard over the booming music from the dj.

"Okay!" You yelled back.

He led you over to a couple of people off to the side of the dance floor, one you recognized as his friend Sarah Paulson, who was dressed in a shimmery witch costume.

Pedro introduced the two of you. Sarah was very sweet, and while you talked music and acting, Pedro touched your shoulder and spoke into your ear to avoid yelling. "I'm going to grab a drink, can I get you anything?"

"I'll just take a soda, thanks!" Although some alcohol might help your nerves, you wanted to maintain a clear head and maybe not do or say something to Pedro that you might regret.

"You got it," he replied, turning on his heel towards the bar.

Once he had left, Sarah gave you a look.

"What?" you laughed.

"You know, he talks about you all the time. I know you already love some other guy based on that hit song of yours, but I gotta say I think he might be smitten with you."

"Oh please, no he isn't. We're just friends!" You smiled at the idea, but inside, you kept hearing the bouncer's words on repeat. There's no way Pedro could have feelings for you. Even if you wanted him to have those feelings more than anything, it couldn't be.

"Whatever you say," she said with a smirk.

A pause before she added "just… don't hurt him. I know you love someone else, but he's a good guy," she pleaded, letting her protective side show.

On his way back from the bar, Pedro ran into Oscar, whom he tagged up with and headed back to your small group. "This is my friend Oscar," said Pedro, introducing you to Oscar as his friend.

Friend. Remember that. Friend. That's all. All you'll ever be.

"Nice to meet you Oscar!" You gave him a cherry smile.

"Nice to finally meet the woman of the hour! Pedro here just won't shut up about you," he said with a smirk, looking at Pedro mischievously. Pedro blushed and looked into his drink cup, taking a sip while trying to hide himself.

"Yep! It's always 'she said this, she said that, can you believe she can do that? She's so smart, funny, sweet…' yada yada yada," he said, smirking again and taking a side glance at Pedro, who choked on his soda. "Shut. Up. Oscar." He quietly threatened through clenched teeth. But despite his quiet tone and a loud party, you heard him.

I mean, I say kind things about my friends that way sometimes. It's nice he's so appreciative of his friends. Because that's what I am. A friend.

Sarah chimes in. "That's what I was telling her! But she claims they're just friends," she air-quotes around the words 'just friends.'

Pedro's heart sank. He knew deep down that's all you were to him, but hearing it second-hand from you still hurt. Just friends… he thought.

"Yeah right," Oscar rolled his eyes, talking to Sarah as if the two of you weren't standing literally right next to them.

"Believe what you want Oscar, but it's true," Pedro answered with a shrug.

Now it was your turn to feel heartbroken. Just friends… you thought.

You cleared your throat, "anyway, I'm going to go get another soda. Can I get anyone anything?" They all answered no, and you headed for the bar.

Deep in your thoughts, you walked over to the bar when a woman slammed into you. She spilled her red, bloody Halloween cocktail drink all down the front of your costume. "Watch where you're going, fat bitch," said the woman, appropriately dressed in a devil costume, her skin-tight red dress barely covering her ass and breasts.

You sighed. At this point you decided to skip the refill and head toward the bathroom to clean up your now wet front. You looked back to see the devil herself headed right towards Pedro's direction. Typical, you thought with an eye roll. She wants him and is mad I was talking to him.

You turned away from that scene and reached the line to the bathroom. It was lengthy, but luckily it was moving fast. Once inside, you finally could let your emotions out a little bit. You wanted to put on a brave face for Pedro and not ruin his evening, but ever since the bouncer made his comments, you couldn't get them out of your head. And now with that woman spilling her drink on you, you had another reason to be upset. You felt undeserving to be here to begin with, and their comments really solidified the imposter syndrome.

Despite wanting so desperately to see Pedro in the flesh, you hadn't even been able to really make eye contact all evening. Your nerves about meeting him were still there, but now you were just upset about the whole night. Even though you wanted to look at him, really see him, you felt like you didn't deserve it; and your nerves warned you not to look or else he'd figure you out.

If he realizes I like him, it's game over. It'll be like that guy I liked before. He'll eventually say it's weird. Weird for me to have a crush on him, weird for me to touch him, weird for the two of us to talk about relationships or sex. It's 'weird' with you.

You really started to hate that word; weird.

Perhaps you were destined to be a single hermit forever. Or maybe just become a nun.

Cleaned up and having let enough tears out for a couple more hours, at least until you could go home and really cry, you walked out of the bathroom. Heading back toward Pedro, you saw a tall, thin, beautiful woman wearing a tight black dress with a slit down the thigh and skeleton makeup on her face.

The woman was standing close to Pedro when you saw her touch his bicep. Slowly running her hand down his forearm, she batted her eyelashes and twirled her hair with her other hand. She said something to him you couldn't hear, but the two of them began to smile, Pedro's eyes growing wide with his grin. He said something to her and they both laughed, him throwing his upper half forward in a classic Pedro laugh.

That's it. I can't do it. I can't be here and see this.

Turning on your heel, you made for the patio door. The crisp air hit your face, urging the tears to fall immediately.

_____

Pedro laughed as the woman, Tricia, held up both hands in defense. "I SWEAR, Pedro. That's what she did. She touched my arm like that, twirled her hair, batted her eyelashes, and said "hey baby. Come here often?"

Pedro laughed, "oh man, that's so cheesy."

"I know!" Tricia laughed, holding her stomach.

Pedro raised an eyebrow. "Okay, you agree it's cheesy, yet I feel like every time I've seen you two together tonight, you're the one that can't keep your hands off of her," he stated with a sassy smirk.

"Alright, you caught me," Tricia replied with a laugh, right as her girlfriend Sam walked up in a matching skeleton costume. Sam handed Tricia a cup of purple liquid and asked what they were laughing about.

"I asked how you two got together," Pedro replied with a chuckle.

"Oh, gosh, I can only imagine how she's spun the story this time!" Sam replied with an eye roll and a quick kiss to Tricia's lips. Seeing the two love-birds kiss made Pedro long to experience that with you.

Where did she go? There's no way she's still getting a drink.

He excused himself and headed towards the bar, but you weren't there. Then he walked towards the bathroom to check the line. Nope.

Finally he looked to the left and saw you, leaning against the balcony which overlooked the city.

He pulled the sliding door open, slipping outside into the cool October night. The patio was mostly empty, apart from a few stragglers on the far side of the rooftop, sitting at the patio furniture underneath a heat lamp. Most of the guests had gone inside when the temperature began to dip. He walked towards you, saying your name to gain your attention, but you didn't turn. Too deep in your thoughts.

"Are you okay? What are you doing out here all alone?" He touched your shoulder gently.

Startled, you tried to quietly sniffle and wipe your wet eyes without him noticing, careful to avoid smudging your mascara.

You turned to face him, planting another fake smile on your face. "Yeah I'm fine, just needed some air, that's all. You?"

"I can tell you're not okay. What's wrong?" He frowned, stepping closer to you and eyeing the red stain on your dress. Confusion laced across his face.

You stepped back a half-step away from his touch. "It's nothing, it just seems it isn't my night I guess… but you look like you're having fun. Get back in there and dance with Sarah and Oscar," you said with a gentle smile. "I think I might head out. Skipper is probably wondering where I am, anyway."

"I'm sorry you're not having a good time. Let me at least give you a ride home," he pleaded with his brown eyes. This was the first time all night you had actually made eye contact with him, finally seeing just how handsome he really was in person.

Yeah. There's no way he'd go for me. That's for sure.

"No, no please, you stay, I'll just get an Uber. It's fine! Thank you for inviting me tonight though, Pedro. That was really sweet of you."

"I'm not letting you take an Uber home when I'm right here."

"No, dont. I don't want you to miss the party…" you added.

"I've partied enough tonight. Come on, I'm taking you home. No arguments," he pressed, puppy dog eyes unwavering in his demand.

Seriously this man could get away with murder the way he looks with those eyes.

"Okay. Fine, if you really don't mind," you finally agreed, not that it was even an option.

He gave a quick explanation to his friends with a brief wave before the two of you headed out the front door. You scowled at the guard as you walked past.

Thanks for ruining my night, asshole.

After receiving his car from the valet, Pedro pulled open the passenger door for you, gesturing for you to climb inside.

Nobody has ever opened the car door for me before, other than my dad.

What a gentleman...

Just because you were upset didn't mean you weren't zapped with a feeling of adrenaline and love at his chivalrous action. Whoever ends up with him is a lucky person.

You climbed in the passenger seat and he went around the car, entering the driver's side.

Not only did you feel like you ruined the party, but you worry you may have ruined your shot altogether. Why would Pedro want you after you didn't even talk to him your first night out together?

_____

*Pedro's POV*

As he climbed into his seat, buckling up and starting the ignition, he couldn't help but wonder where the night went wrong.

Did I say something to offend her?

He began to replay all the conversations you'd had tonight, trying to figure out when your sadness began and what could have caused it.

The party conversations? The texts? The phone calls?

Nothing came to mind, which worried him even more that he could be so ignorant to have said something hurtful without realizing.

Pedro looked over at you in his passenger seat. You were curled toward the side, arms scrunched toward your body and looking out the window. Silent. Just the occasional sound of a sniffle, or a road direction for him to take toward your house.

He wanted so badly to reach over and touch you. Hold your hand and rub his thumb over your fingers to comfort you in any way possible while driving. Then, he'd pull you into his arms the second you two got out of the car.

But he knew he couldn't. You weren't his to hold.

Was her crush at the party too? Could he have hurt her somehow?

He felt anger flare into his system at whatever could have made you cry. You deserved the world and he wished he could spend every day trying to prove it to you.

_____

*Back to your perspective*

About 20 minutes later, you quietly said "this is me."

Pedro put the car in park, and told you to wait. Confused, you sat, but he ran around the car and opened the door for you.

What. The. Hell. Is he real?

You stood from the car, fluffing down your ruined princess dress. "Thank you Pedro. You really didn't have to give me a ride, I feel bad you went out of your way. I'm sorry if I ruined your night."

"Hey, whoa, don't apologize. There's no way you ruined my night, and don't worry about the ride. I feel better knowing you made it home safely from me than some taxi service," Pedro placed his hand on his heart.

"Well, thank you either way. It was nice getting to finally meet you in person…"

"It was nice meeting you too," he shifted his weight, awkwardly wondering how to proceed.

"You should go. Get back to your party before you miss anything else! I'm sure Oscar and Sarah miss you," you prompted.

"Oh, I'm not going back. I'll just call it a night and head home. It's not as fun without my date, anyway." He smirked, and you couldn't help but wonder if he was flirting with you. Probably just being nice.

"You aren't going back??"

"Nah, I'm good. But…" he rubbed the back of his neck with his palm.

"What?" You felt nervous.

"Can I ask why you're so upset? You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. It's just… if I did something or said something to upset you… I'm so sorry," he said, and you could actually feel the genuine sadness in his voice.

"Oh, Pedro. No. You did nothing wrong. It's just," you sighed. "Do you want to come in?"

You worried about asking and seeming too forward, but now that it's out there it can't be taken back.

Friends go over to other friend's houses. It's totally fine and normal.

"I, uh, sure," Pedro stumbled over his words. "I'd love to. If you don't mind." He seemed nervous and a little surprised at your invitation.

You unlocked your door and the two of you entered. Instantly, you were greeted by your boy, who was all too happy to have a new friend. His tail wagged, smacking against nearby surfaces.

Pedro's face lit up instantly, and he crouched down to Skip's level. Letting Skipper get a good sniff, you heard Pedro gently coo to your dog. "Hi buddy!! I'm Pedro. I've heard so much about you." He scratched behind his ears.

Your heart swelled. Here they were, two of your favorite boys, bonding like old friends.

Pedro stood up again, giving a final scratch to Skipper's head before turning to you. "So, do you want to talk about it? What happened tonight?"

You ushered him to the kitchen table, asking him if he would like a drink. "Sure, thanks. Just water, please."

You poured two glasses of water and sat at the table near him, finally delving into the events of the evening. You told him about the bouncer and the woman with her drink. "I also saw that one girl talking to you and being really touchy and flirty and I felt like I was intruding."

I was also really fucking jealous…

"Wait, what girl?"

He repeated the evening's events through his mind. He wasn't flirting or being touchy? Who were you - Oh. Tricia, when she was describing Sam. Were you jealous of her? He allowed his mind to wonder, slightly hopeful that you might want more.

"I guess I just… I don't really feel like I fit in here. I don't look like I fit in here. I don't act like I fit in here. I honestly don't even know why you're as nice to me as you are. I wonder why you want to be my friend. Not that I'm not happy about it, because I am, but-"

He cut off your ramblings. "Whoa, whoa, hey. Sweetheart. You belong here. People just don't know you yet. That bouncer was totally out of line and a complete asshole. That woman, who spilled her drink on you, was rude, offensive, and nasty; and I don't tolerate that kind of behavior. Especially towards those I care about. The second she came over, I could tell she was a snake. I didn't give her the time of day. And lastly, the girl you saw being touchy was my friend Tricia. She was describing how her girlfriend picked her up in a bar," he laughed.

"Oh," you listened to his words, still not making eye contact, looking at your hands on the table.

"And as for you," he prompted, "I'm nice to you because you deserve it. You're sweet and funny, and I'm so thankful to have met you. I talk to you because I like talking to you. I enjoy spending time with you, whether it's on the phone, or, even better, when I get to see your face. Although I have to say I hate to see it crying." He brushed away a tear from your cheek, and you gave a small laugh, wiping the rest of your face.

"Thanks Pedro. I'm sorry if I brought down your night. I just really wanted tonight to be special, and it felt like my carriage turned back into a pumpkin before I even started." You gave another defeated laugh.

"You didn't ruin my night. If anything I'm just disappointed you didn't say anything, so I could help cheer you up or we could go do something else." He paused, brushing your hair from your eyes. "By the way, I never did get to tell you how beautiful you look in that dress, princesa."

Your cheeks heated under his gaze. "T-thanks Pedro. You look pretty handsome there, yourself," you answered nervously. It was the first time you had truly looked at him all night, and he was more beautiful than you ever could have imagined. Even pictures didn't do him justice. Dressed in a white suit with golden epaulets and golden buttons on the jacket, he was the most charming prince you'd ever seen.

Pedro rubbed his neck. "Thank you." He smiled. "But, hey, just because the night didn't go your way doesn't mean we can't turn it around."

You smirked. "That's true. Do you wanna watch a movie or something? Because if so, I think I might change out of this costume real quick," you began to stand.

"Whoa, not so fast princesa," he grabbed your arm.

You turned and gave him a confused look.

"Not before I share a dance with you in that dress. I've been waiting all night," he held out his hand.

"Really?" The grin on your face lit up, and you pulled him towards your music room where you stored your records.

"Wow. This is amazing. You have so many records and instruments in here! Is this where you write your music, too?"

"Yep! Here's where the magic happens," you answered with a laugh, pulling out an old record filled with slow love songs of the 50's and 60's. You placed the needle on the record, hearing a soft crackle as it began to play.

Pedro pulled you into his chest, grabbing your right hand with his left and gently placing his right hand on your waist. You slid your left hand up to his shoulder and smiled up at him as the two of you gently swayed to the music.

One song turned into two. Then three, and finally four; the two of you holding each other, silent except for the soft music turning from your record player on the desk. At some point you took the risk and decided to rest your face on his chest while the two of you swayed. His head rested on top of yours, both of you breathing softly, eyes closed, with you listening to the rhythmic drumming of his heart in his chest.

The record crackled with the end of the first side and the two of you looked at each other. You didn't miss the quick glance he stole from your eyes down to your lips, and you began to slowly lean closer.

Is this it?! Am I finally going to have my first kiss?!

You continued leaning closer, both his and your eyes gently closing. You could feel his breath fanning across your nose when-

Clunk clunk clunk. Pant pant. Whine.

You and Pedro opened your eyes, confusion painting your expressions as you turned your faces away from each other towards the sound. Still held in each other's arms, you peeled your eyes away from each other to see Skipper looking at you both with a big doggy grin on his face. His tail smacked the table with a thump thump, and he let out soft little whines and coos for attention.

The two of you laughed, the moment over, as you both kneeled down to give pets while Skip wedged between the two of you. Although you were disappointed the kiss was interrupted, you can't be mad at such a cute face. Still scratching your dog, you looked across to Pedro on the other side of Skipper. The two of you shared a soft look and smile, filled with so many unsaid words and feelings.

"So, uh.. how about that movie?" Pedro asked, still smiling.

______

You changed out of your princess costume into a comfier movie watching outfit and he changed out of his prince costume. He had some clothes in his car, which he changed into, looking handsome as ever. He wore a navy blue sweater with jeans, both fitting him perfectly. The two of you settled on your couch and turned on a movie. Although you sat next to each other, you kept a friendly distance, neither of you wanting to push the other too far.

As the movie rolled on, you had a hard time focusing on the plot with him so close. He looked so cozy and soft, you just wanted to climb in his lap. You wanted him to hold your hand. You wanted to finish that kiss. He smelled nice, he looked nice, and you wanted him more than anything else in this world.

Without realizing it, you gravitated closer. Your body inched toward him, and without him realizing it, he inched closer as well. It wasn't long until your leg was brushed against his. Just the slight touch of his leg on yours was enough to send an electric feeling pulsing through your body. The tension was as tight as an electrical cable, slowly fraying until it eventually snaps into sparks.

Pedro's fingers twitched at his side, his jaw clenching and unclenching. Your eyes kept sneakily darting over to him, his doing the same at opposite times. Your hearts were racing, breathing quick and shallow. The movie finally ended, neither of you able to tell someone the storyline if asked.

You nervously turned towards Pedro, rubbing the back of your neck. "So that was some movie…"

"Yeah, that ending… it was-" his eyes darted to your lips. "Something." He looked into your eyes, hand settling on your thigh as the two of you once again began to lean in closer. You had just shut your eyes, noses brushing together, when he pulled away.

What the heeeeeeeellllll??? Whyyyy!?

You couldn't help but let out a whimper as you opened your eyes after the second failed kiss of the evening.

Pedro sat with his elbows on his lap, holding his face in his hands. "I'm so sorry…"

"What? Pedro? Why are you sorry? What's wrong? Did I - did I do something wrong?"

Do I smell bad? Does he not like me? Was this some sick joke?

"I don't know what I'm doing. I'm sorry. I let my feelings get in the way, and I shouldn't have done that. You're in love with someone else. I can't steal your first kiss. You deserve to have it with the man you really love."

"Pedro-" you tried to pry his hand from his face.

"No. I'm sorry if I ruined things. I should probably leave-" he began to stand up, but you grabbed his forearm and pulled him back down.

"Stop. Pedro," you begged.

He sat back down, looking into your eyes guiltily.

You continued. "Please don't apologize. I wanted you to kiss me…"

"But that guy in your song. You deserve to be with him. I've been letting my feelings take over and stealing all your time away on the phone and text, video chat, and now in person. I almost stole your first kiss from you twice tonight and-" he rambled on, once again throwing his hands over his face before you interrupted him again.

"Pedro.." you pulled his hand away from his face, leaving yours to hold his cheek instead, but he still avoided your eyes. Taking a deep breath, you figured it was time to take the plunge.

"It's you, Pedro."

His eyes glanced up to yours. "What?"

"It's you. It's always been you. You're the one I like."

"Wait, so you mean-"

"Yes. The songs, the interviews, our chats… I've been talking about you this whole time. I really, really, like you."

Pedro gave a gentle smile, leaning his face into your hand. "I like you too, baby," he whispered.

His hand moved from his cheek to yours and the two of you leaned in. Closing your eyes, you brushed your noses together before you whispered "please kiss me.

You could feel a soft smile as he pressed his lips to yours, first gentle and soft, then stronger and more desperate. Although the kiss was still very tame, you could both feel all the emotions you've been harboring for each other for so long.

Breathless, the two of you pulled back, falling into a gentle laughter. "You don't know how long I've been waiting for that kiss," you spoke softly, wanting to keep the words as quiet as possible, heard only within the tiny bubble you currently shared.

"Me too," he smiled, pressing another kiss to your lips.

"I think you were worth the wait," you pecked his lips.

"I think you were too," he rested his head on your forehead with his hand on your neck, lightly stroking over your hair.

"I like you." You giggled.

"I like you too." He grinned. "But, you know, if I remember correctly, 'like' wasn't the word you used in your song…" he teased.

Your stomach flipped. "I don't want to scare you off too soon, P."

"You won't, sweetheart. You couldn't if you tried. I feel the same way." He kissed your forehead.

You looked at him, and feeling slightly nervous, yet calmed by his deep brown eyes, you told him those important words that have been spilling from your chest in silence.

"I love you Pedro."

"I love you too," he grabbed your face, once again pressing a kiss to your lips, this one much deeper than the others, before pulling you into his arms. The two of you were finally together. Finally you had love. All the things you wanted were coming true.

Turns out you got your happily ever after tonight after all.

__________

To be continued...

That's all for now! I hope you liked this chapter. I've received a lot of kind messages and DMs saying how much you guys relate to the reader and I just want to say thank you. It really means a lot to me that people are finding something to relate to. I'm essentially just using this fic as my diary, because she is pretty much just me. So to see others feeling the same way, it makes my heart so full! I send hugs to all of you.

Next Chapter! Here!

Taglist: (Want in? Let me know!) If I forget to add anyone, I'm sorry!

@pedrotonin @starcrossed02 @lightupsketchersperson @cartoon-garbage04 @tyferbebe @maryfanson @gwendibley84 @faithfullyyours2000 @brilliantopposite187 @hc-geralt-23 @jenniferpendragon @winchestergypsy90 @red-red-rogue @theendwhereibegin @lottieellz101 @oliversaurus @kyga01 @milly-louise @titabel @taz-97 @stefanibear003 @marantha @fandomoniumflurry @ilovemybrown-eyedbabygirl

[wildemaven]

Sweet Creature: Chapter Eight

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4643

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Talks of failed relationships, Bi!Dieter, Fingering (public, F receiving), food and drinks, fluff fluff fluff, handy in the car, praise kink if you squint, oral (semi-ish public; F receiving), reader’s nickname is Poppy- zero physical description, these two hot dogs are just trying to make up for lost time, if I missed something let me know

A/N: Uhh, this chapter ran away from me. But it worked out cause now these two get some lovin’ and we get an extra chapter! Thanks so much @gnpwdrnwhiskey for being the sweetest beta reader as always— I appreciate you and your eyes so much!!

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous / Next

“You don’t think she’ll be mad?”

“No Dieter, I don’t think she’ll be mad. Poppy’s totally going to understand, she loves you and will support whatever you do.”

Diem had always been able to reassure him when he needed it most, especially when it came to you— the one good thing in his life he refused to mess up. 

“Please don’t mention anything, I want to be able to do it in person— I’ll probably just tell her tonight.”

“Oh, shoot— I was just going to text her right now, ‘Hey Poppy! I wanted to tell you before Dieter did…’” Diem’s voice dripping in sarcasm, acting like she’s typing out a message on her phone. “Of course I won’t tell her— My lips are sealed!” Pretending to lock her lips and tossing an invisible key over her shoulder, laughing at his annoyance with her. 

“I can’t with you.” He sighs, scrubbing his hands over his face.

Dieter paces around the kitchen, not really sure what to do with himself, ready far sooner than he anticipated— nerves buzzing with excitement knowing he would be seeing you in 30 minutes— to pick you up for your date.

First official date. 

You had both laughed at how backwards it felt. Your first kiss. Your first time together. Your first ‘I love you’.— all done before you had even managed to go on an actual date. 

Finding a Friday that worked with your busy schedule, but that also led into a weekend where you could spend it together uninterrupted— no plans, just together. 

Dieter wanted to, as he put it, wine and dine you. He made reservations for 7 at a somewhat fancy Italian restaurant, only telling you to get dressed up in your favorite dress and that he’d pick you up at 6:30. 

He can’t remember the last time he had put this much effort into a date, probably due to the fact he hadn’t really ever been on one in years. 

Sure, there were a handful of women and men on his arm at many times in his life, accompanying him to five star restaurants across the greater Los Angeles area, pictures of them stumbling into the streets plastered across the tabloids the next day. 

‘Dieter Bravo & Mystery Woman Dining at Hollywood Hot Spot: Is She the One to Tame this Bad Boy?’

‘Dieter Bravo Seen Dancing with New Beau at Packed Nightclub’

Many were a lame attempt at a PR stunt, to draw attention to his upcoming movies he’d be starring in— but most of them were also meant to keep his name in the positive spotlight, distract from the shit show of his life behind the scenes. 

There were a few that felt like a little more than weekend arm candy, only to find out he was the one catching feelings, while they were looking to catch a free ride to stardom. 

There was the model he met on the set of a cologne campaign, also a sweet bubbly aspiring actress. The whirlwind fling seemed to move at lightning speed, and against his better judgment and the concerns of his people, she moved in after only a few short months of them seeing each other. Their relationship had been one of his many attempts at getting sober, wanting to give his best to her, but things became increasingly tempestuous as Dieter pulled away from the wild parties and she went out with friends, only to come home as the sun was coming up— leaving Dieter bored and alone. When Dieter caught word of her affair with his closest friend and fellow actor, he kicked her out of his house and began to spiral back into his old ways. 

Then there was the time with ‘what’s his face’, Dieter vaguely recalls what he looked like— let alone what his name was, gallivanting around Europe taking in its beautiful countryside, experiencing the food and the touristy atmosphere. When time came for them to head home, Dieter needing to prepare for a new role, he found himself flying back alone— leaving ‘what’s his face’ in Mallorca to continue on his soul-searching journey, which included some business opportunities with someone by the name of Lucas Gutierrez. 

The last relationship, if you could even call it that, was a drugged out daze where he almost married the receptionist of a high end hotel, Dieter had been convinced her hospitality meant she was in love with him. A weeks stay turned into a hazy mess of pleading for her to have sex with him while he was high as a kite, and by the end of the week she was saving his life and he was even more sure she was his forever— until his publicist and crisis manager had to step in and tell him he was not of sound mind to make such life altering decisions. 

Dieter had written off relationships or anything that resembled some sort of courtship, especially while in treatment— wanting to get himself right before even thinking about getting involved with someone. 

And then a year later, you came out of left field and had him seeing what love could feel like.

A knock at the front door pulls him from his head, glancing over to where Diem is eating dinner with Wren and getting a shrug of ‘I’m not expecting anyone’, he goes to answer it. 

Opening the door, he wasn’t expecting to see you, stunned into silence as his eyes slowly roamed over your body— completely done up, no semblance of your innocent teacher-look in sight. 

You take his reserved demeanor, no real expression except for wide eyes and a slack jaw, as if there was something wrong with how you looked. 

“What is it? Is the dress too much?” You say looking downward, smoothing out the fabric of your silky black dress and matching heels. You had given yourself a once over in the mirror before heading over, thinking everything was in place and really feeling the look— but maybe you had missed something. 

“N-no— No! You look fine— I mean you look beautiful.” Dieter stammers over his words, the way your dress hugs every inch of you has his eyes nearly bugging out of his head. “Wow!”

“Thank you. You don’t look so bad yourself there, handsome.” Biting your bottom lip as you adjust the wonky lapel on his navy suit, giggling at how you both can’t seem to stop staring at each other. 

“You’re early!” The realization hit him, looking over the clock on the oven to see he still had another 25 minutes before he even needed to leave. 

“I know. But I’ve been ready for the last hour and I was getting bored sitting on my couch waiting— plus there’s only so many songs on one side of a record and I got tired of getting up to flip it. So, I figured I’d walk here, kill some time.”

“Poppy, it’s like a five minute walk from your house.” He laughs, but his chest swells at the thought of you being so excited for the evening. 

“Actually, it’s a good 8, maybe 10 minutes in these heels— which by the way, are made for sitting not walking, so the sooner I can sit the better.” You mention as you shift your body from side to side, trying to relieve the tension that’s already settling into the balls of your feet. 

“Let’s go then.”

He runs back to the counter to grab his phone and his keys, stopping to give Wren a kiss on her head and a good night to both her and Diem. 

“You kids behave yourselves!” Diem quips with a smirk. 

“Uncle Dieter and Poppy aren’t kids mama! You adults behave!! Are they going to get in trouble?!” Wren confused, trying to wrap her head around the whole thought of her uncle and Poppy not behaving. 

Thankfully it’s a short walk, his hand securely on the small of your back as he guides you from the front door to his car, mindful of your slow calculated steps. 

A machine-like beep echoes out into the night as he unlocks the door, you start to bend down slightly to reach for the door handle, but Dieter grabs your wrist, carefully pulling you to him— your chest colliding with his. 

“You look beautiful, Poppy.” He breathes against your mouth, his nose gently nudging at yours before his lips seal over your awaiting lips. 

You can’t help the small whine that escapes your throat the moment his tongue slowly invades your mouth, eliciting a lustful moan of his own as he deepens the kiss. 

With his hands firmly grabbing onto the globes of your ass, pulling your lower half as close to him as possible, he shuffles your bodies around before pressing your back into the side of his car, the cold metal hitting your bare back sends a shiver down your spine, his feet tapping against yours signaling you to widen your stance as much as your dress will allow.

The way his lips continue to move over yours paired with the slight grind of his hips, a prominent bulge rutting up against the ache that has begun to settle between your legs, your appetite grows for something a little stronger and involving less clothes— is it too late to cancel reservations?

Goosebumps scatter across your skin as the sensation of his fingers gliding over your thigh, breaching the slit in your dress and settling at your unclothed and heated core— no panties were a risky move with how high the slit of your dress went, but the choice was paying off earlier than you had expected. 

Your fingers digging into the back of his arms to help  keep you upright, fearing your legs might give out at any moment. 

“Can you be quiet for me?” He asks against your swollen lips— grateful you opted for a gloss over a stain of color, knowing this might have been on the menu for the evening. 

You can only manage a nod as a jolt of pleasure hits you the minute his fingers push into your dripping pussy. 

Dieter covers your mouth with his other hand, quieting the tiny sounds that you can’t help making with how his fingers move so intently against your velvety walls, tripping the tiny live wires that have you electrified and pulsing around his digits. 

“Fuck Poppy, I can feel you’re already there. What’s got you so worked up already?” Dieter’s words muffled against your warm ear, his husky voice aiding in the chase for your release. 

He moves his hand from your mouth, your lips parting as you take a few quick breaths, your mind actively trying to string together a few coherent words. 

“Y-you.” Your response is airy, as you start to feel the building pressure of your climax. 

“Me?” He asks, removing himself from where he had settled against your neck, giving you a mocking puzzled look, playing stupid—he wants to hear you say it. 

“Yes— ah! You! Y-you look s-so— oh fuck! So fucking pretty! Oh god, Dieter— don’t stop please!” 

His hand moves to rest behind your neck, holding your head up so he can watch the way your face looks the second he sends you into a euphoric state. 

It’s a subtle swipe of his thumb over your throbbing clit, that has you catapulting into a blinding nirvana. 

Dieter presses his lips in a leisurely haphazard manner to your fiery skin as you come down from your peak, slowly removing his fingers from your spent cunt. 

You manage to catch his hand the moment it leaves the underside of your dress, locking your eyes with his as you bring the two fingers, now glistening under the moonlight, that worked earnestly to satisfy you up to your watery mouth. You wrap your lips around them, tasting your tangy sweet arousal, releasing his hand and wiping the corners of your mouth— Dieter practically coming in his suit pants at the sight

“Fuck, Poppy! You teach kids with that mouth of yours?” Eyebrows raised in question as he jokes at the lewd, yet arousing, gesture. 

“I knew you’d be a dessert before dinner kinda guy—” You reply, pressing a kiss to his cheek then whispering into his ear, “Hmm, plus, that’s not the only thing it can do.” 

You lightly push him off of you, giving him a sultry smile and a wink, adjusting your dress before opening the door to the car and getting in. 

“Fuck me!” He breathes out into the crisp evening air. 

*

The restaurant was the perfect backdrop for the evening— an outside table tucked in the corner of their patio with dim overhead lighting, candles glowing between table settings, a heavy card-stock menu listing their elaborate dishes and expensive wines. 

You had told Dieter on the ride over that you would have been more than fine with the local pizzeria or even stayed in and cooked together— he said the latter would be added on to the list of options for next time. 

Dieter had opted to sit next to you as opposed to sitting across the table— you didn’t argue, agreeing that it felt more intimate having him closer. It also allowed Dieter to rest his hand on your exposed thigh the entire evening, running his fingers along the seam where your leg crossed over the other— at times your hand resting over his, lighting caressing the top of his or changing it up and interlocking your fingers together.

The conversation flowed nicely once you were both satisfied with the order for the evening, sharing of childhood stories and funny life moments kept you both engaged and connected throughout the night. 

“What made you want to be a teacher?” Dieter asks, munching on a crunchy piece of garlic bread, his hand still resting on your leg while his thumb caresses over your knee. 

You finish your bite, wiping the pasta sauce from your mouth. 

“Actually, my mom is a teacher— she was my sixth grade teacher too. When I was in college trying to figure out my path, I remembered the joy she got out of being with her students and how much she had helped kids in my class. I knew it was something I wanted to do too. I guess we’re kind of alike in a way, following our parent’s footsteps.” Giving his hand a brief squeeze at the realization, your eyes beaming as you look at him. 

He smiles at the coincidence, he likes listening to you share these parts of your life with him. 

“What did you want to be as a kid?” He asks before taking a sip of his ice water. 

“Oh no!” Laughing softly at his question. “You’re going to laugh at me!”

“Well, now I need to know!” Trying to picture what a younger version of you would have dreamed of being in your adult life. 

“I don’t want to hear a single thing when I tell you, you understand me Bravo!” Jokingly point a finger at him as you prepare to reveal your childhood dream. 

He draws an X over his chest as a promise, encouraging you to continue. 

“I wanted to be an actress.” You reveal in a low hushed tone. 

“I’m sorry, what was that?” He’s fighting back his laugh, tilting an ear in your direction as if he didn’t hear what you said. 

“I wanted to be an actress!” Your face scrunches up with embarrassment as you repeat yourself. 

“Would have never guessed!” It’s the smallest laugh that escapes, shaking his head in amusement. “What made you change your mind?”

“Fifth grade— I was the female lead in our class play, it was a musical. I was sure this was going to be the thing that proved how much I wanted to act, convince my mom to put me in acting classes— I secretly hoped that maybe I could make it big, then move to be with my Dad and I don’t know, prove to that I could be something to him.”

You take a sip of your white wine. When ordering earlier, you had told Dieter you would be fine with just water since he wasn’t drinking, but he had insisted it was fine— and you had to admit it paired well with your dish. 

“I practiced nonstop, to the point I think mother was counting down the days until opening night so she didn’t have to hear me belting out my solo song in my room. Opening night came, and my part was about half through the play— I was so excited. Once it was my scene, I walked out on stage, saw all the faces staring back at me and I just froze. I couldn’t even say my lines, let alone sing.”

“What did you do?” 

“I ran out of there so fast. Begged my mom to switch schools so I wouldn’t have to face my class again. My dreams of becoming a big star faded instantly and I realized also that wasn’t going to fix anything with my Dad. Could you imagine though? Me, an actress— that would be a fucking sight.”

You both laugh uncontrollably at the thought of you being a Hollywood star  and how different your life had become, agreeing that you ended up where you were meant to be. 

“When do I get to meet her?”

“My mom?”

“Yeah, I feel like I should meet the mother of my girlfriend— hopefully sooner than later.”

Girlfriend. 

You both hadn’t really discussed labels, and you were perfectly fine with letting things happen organically being this was all still new for you both. But also acknowledging this was something more than just casually dating someone you didn’t know.

“Well, she’ll fly in next Thursday and will be at the gallery for my exhibit on Friday, so you can meet her then.” You’re giddy at the thought of your Mom meeting Dieter, having spent so many hours on the phone with her talking about him. 

His face morphs into a look of panic at the mention of your gallery showing, deciding that now would be the perfect time to tell you the thing that’s been weighing on him the last few days. 

“What?”

“Poppy, about your showing. I got a call the other morning— they bumped up pre-production and I’ll be leaving sooner than originally planned.”

“When do you leave?”

“This Monday. I’ve been trying to figure things out, find some way to still be able to make it, but they aren’t really working with me— as of now, it’s looking like I’m going to miss it.” Now that it’s out in the open, he doesn’t feel any better now that you know, he knows how much this means to you and wants to be there for you. 

“Dieter— hey, it’s okay!” 

You can see the anguish looming over him, hating that he was nervous to tell you. 

“You’re not upset with me?”

“No! Why would I be upset? I mean, sure I’m a little bummed out, but this job is important to you.”

“But your art is just as important.”

“I appreciate you thinking that, but there will be others I’m sure. Maybe not at that gallery, but I’m sure I’ll find another place and I’ll convince them to let me show off my work there too.” 

“Thank you, for being understanding.”

“Of course, Dieter… You’ll just have to make it up to me in other ways I guess.” 

As the date progressed, you’re both completely satiated, barely able to take a single taste of the dessert you had ordered. 

Dieter shared more about his love for acting growing up, fun stories from movie sets and his favorite roles to date— you didn’t want him to stop sharing, the way his eyes lit up you could tell how passionate he was about his work, it made you fall for him even more. 

“Does it still make you happy?” You ask him, your elbow propped up on the table, hand under your chin, the answer seemed so obvious to you but you wanted to hear him say it. 

He laughs at your question, leaning against the chair back, taking a minute to collect his thoughts. 

“What’s so funny?”

“Driving Birdie to school one morning, she asked me the same question. Just funny I’m being asked again after being here for a few months now.” He explains, rolling the edge of his napkin between his fingers, knowing you’re going to want him to answer it truthfully. 

“Is your answer still the same?” 

“Well, Birdie said I need to listen to my heart.”

“And what does your heart say now?” You ask as you lean forward, pressing your palm over his chest, feeling the steady strum of his heart as he looks at you with the most loving gaze. 

Adjusting himself forward in his seat, angling his body closer to you, wrapping his large hand over yours and pressing them both close to his chest, the up turn of his lopsided grin slowly growing. 

“It says that I am happy. Happy to be alive and sober. Happy to be home— making up for lost time with Diem and Wren. Happy to have this opportunity to discover the joy I have for a simpler life. And more importantly, it says I am happy to have you.” 

Tears began to shimmer in your eyes, hearing him say how happy he was, was an indescribable feeling— he was so deserving of not only happiness, but love and you were so grateful he was feeling it. 

“I love you, Dieter.” Trying to sniffle back your tears, your hand cradles the back of his head, closing the gap between you as his lips settle against yours. 

He can taste the few tears that do manage to escape, their wet briney sweetness coating the ardent kiss. 

“I love you so much, Poppy.” 

*

The ride home was a comfortable silence, no real need for conversation, just being in the presence of each was enough for the drive back to your place. 

It was peaceful— your hand resting on his leg, your gaze focused on the way the houses and trees blurred together in passing. 

“What are you smiling about over there?” Catching the slight grin on your face as you look out the window, wanting to know what thoughts were the cause for it. 

You hum in response, drawing your bottom lip between your teeth as your mind replays a loop of the entire evening thus far. 

“I had fun tonight— thank you.” Your head still resting against the seat, watching the way Dieter’s hands grip around the steering wheel, the muscles of his neck taut and flexed as he checks the mirrors. 

Acutely aware of the dampness that’s been lingering between your legs all evening, watching him right now you can feel your arousal beginning to pool and slowly drip down your thighs— grateful for your dress acting as a barrier between you and the car’s leather seats. 

The car jerks slightly as Dieter pulls it into your driveway, shifting into park and killing the engine, turning his attention to you, mirroring your position. 

“I had a great time too. Pretty sure I earned myself a second date, maybe even a little kiss goodnight.” 

His enthusiasm and lack of humbleness about his odds have you reeling, but it's his signature wink that hits you like a freight train that has you moving before your brain can register what’s happening. 

“I think you earned yourself a little more than that.” Your words are honeyed and laced in a seductive sugariness. 

A dual clicking, triggers the release of your seat-buckles, the snap back of the retracting belts reverberates through the car. 

A soft sliding of fabric against an oiled leather seat merely tickles your ears, trying to shift your body upward, your knee finally finding purchase to hold steady. 

A myriad of soft sounds expelled from Dieter’s side of the car. The rigid unzipping of his pants. The shuffling and pulling of excessive fabrics. A string of mumbled fuckshitohgodpoppyplease tumble from Dieter’s mouth as he watches the way your hand works itself over his hard cock. 

He’s putty in your hands, breathing ragged and tight with each swipe of your thumb over the head of his shaft. Gathering every glassy drop of pre-cum to help your hand slide effortlessly, pausing at the base of his cock for a moment— your firm grip producing another string of sounds from Dieter, mostly heady opaque moans. 

“Pop-Poppy! fuckfuckfuck! I-hnnnngh!! I’m gonna come if you— shit! If you keep that up!” 

“That’s the point Babe, I want you to feel good. Show my boyfriend how much he means to me.”

You can feel the way he tenses in pleasure at you calling him your boyfriend, the way he throbs in your hand as you resume your movements. 

“I’m going to miss you so much Dieter. Miss your stupid handsome face while you’re out doing what you love most. Letting everyone see how amazing and perfect you are.“ Your soft voice fanning across his ear. 

“N-no Poppy— You- fuck! I love you, the most.” His jaw is tight as he grits out his words. 

“I love you Dieter. It’s okay, let go— for me.” 

And he does. 

Warm spurts of cum coat the top of your hand and his dark navy button down shirt—  a painting of white Rorschach blots of arousal. 

“I’m going to miss you too, Poppy.” He manages to say, his throat raspy and dry. 

You find yourself flush against your front door, purse dangling from your arm, intoxicated by the way Dieter is kissing you fervently. 

“Dieter, babe! My feet are killin’ me! I’ve got to get these shoes off asap!” Taking a moment to catch your breath and search for your keys. 

Sifting through the mess of your purse, you miss Dieter kneeling down, his hand cupping the back of your calf as he attempts to undo the strap of your heels with the other, it doesn’t take long for you to feel your shoe being removed, the pressure instantly dissipating. His hands begin to work at your other shoe when you find your ring of keys, relief again as he removes the shoe and gently places your bare foot on your tiled porch. 

“God, that feels so much better! Thank— ah! Dieter!” 

Your skin feels soft under his touch, dropping a few kisses up the length of your exposed leg, stopping when he gets to the peak of your dress's slit, looking up at you to see nothing but want swimming in your eyes. 

He presses his hands on your hips, shifting  the fabric of your dress just enough so the slit allows him access to your cunt. 

A few bold licks through your wet folds has your knees buckling, his grip on you tightening to keep you from slipping, you’re so keyed up already that you know this is going to be a quick completion. 

But Dieter takes his time with you, and it’s worth it the minute your orgasm hits— a mixture of tingling excitement and hot lips between your legs. 

Your head lulls back against the door, as you wait for the sensation to come back to your legs. 

Dieter standing to his full height, shifting your dress back to its proper position. 

“I’ll have you know, I’m a dessert anytime kinda guy.” Devilishly smirking,  his lips damp with your arousal as he presses them to yours. 

“Stay. I’m not ready for you to leave me yet. Stay the weekend with me, please.” 

You’re practically begging him, and he finds it incredibly hard to tell you no— but sees no reason why he should. 

“I’m yours, Poppy. Show me where the bedroom is.”

[achoshistor]

ffxv

i just finished ffxv like last night (more like early this morning...) but lowkey i was too depressed to go through the dlc. this was really sad.

SPOILERS (MAIN story didnt open it back up to ch 15 yet)

i think if you are a #loyal fan then you read that last post where i meant to play this game originally. lowkey i liked this better than the remake even though everyone else hates on it. i think after going through the game's history the ending did feel a little rushed so i didnt feel the exact same sadness i did with ccr but i nearly shed a tear at that ending. IMO this game really had a lot of potential, like i don't understand the complaints about the open world. like u hear botw is great an all but it has the exact same "issues" tbh—i have it in quotes bc ofc the open world is going to be a little bit more empty—if you go outside everything will be empty too?? and i mean like at least just about every structure in this game has a side quest tied to it, while botw/totk leave SOOO many mysteries and have such a strange connection between the lore; this one just has too much for you to think about it in detail. like compared to ff7r there feels like more in ffxv too, ive got like 50hr in xv compared to my barely 30 in remake. though afaik rebirth is open world (sale was only $48 too expensive for license only will review when it goes 50% off ish) and the original by technicalities is as well and really this game kind of feels like a precursor to ff7r. like theres an anime, a movie, and a novel too but SO much cancelled content (which apparently was cancelled bc the director left on "good"(BAD) terms with sqenix and the team and budget were moved over to some other game) like i watched one of the old trailers right after finishing the game and lowkey now I'M pissed off on Tabata's behalf like the only reason this went to essentially shit is due to tabata's corporate opps... did they not pay attention to shinra at all?? i heard xvi and rebirth did NAWT sell well (obvs in part cause they were ps exclusive) and that i say is tabatas curse.... like ?/?. off topic but i saw that evil cs major again. i think we made eye contact. MY fault for going outside (it was an omen). back to topic at hand im looking at tabatas works (includes ff7cc) and honestly afaik these have a totally different feel from the other guy's (nomura idk) work like i think i dont have anymore to say on this topic but i have more to say

ffxv feels soooo American like maybe its just cuz of cindy (speaking of im kind of surprised they didnt just rate the game M) & i remember back in 2016/17 when the game came out it was so hyped up and for good reason cuz its open world but with a car. i feel like the game is car centric (just like american society!!) and like even when its not you get to see these huge big cities like altissia (felt like i was playing infinity nikki there lol) or insomnia or even lestallum but the game again really just gets cut short at Nibelheim (Nifelheim??) and the relationship with the bros gets explored really deeply. the thing with that though is the relationship with luna does not.... like prompto and noct have better chemistry than noct/luna (tbf luna was the one that set them up). i feel like though you need to see the companion media to experience the full game, like when i got to insomnia i lowkey dgaf until i watched brotherhood (im inspired by prompto) bc you see all of the bros with noct and it kind of just sets in how bad its really gotten for Lucis (speaking of, the map is unfinished?? there seems to be a region next to insomnia + insomnia is on the base map looking regular so i wonder if there was gonna be more... same with altissia bc you can get to altissia and the main continent directly but not nifelhiem) bc lowkey the game doesn't really set it in for you. not that big of a deal though especially since 7 has the same issue.

anyways my mind is lowkey like two marbles clacking around rn and i know i wanted to say something but im forgetting what so that will be in a later post (when i finish dlc). thanks (sorry) for coming to my ted talk

[batz]

can i ask u to drop the sweetrolls recipe 👀

preemptive apology for how illegible this might be, i eyeball my recipes usually so ill just write down whats in my brain. its a Generic Dough Recipe nothing too special

INGREDIENCE

- 1 1/2 teaspoons of instant yeast

- 2 cups milk or water (milk is better tho imo)

- 4 cups flour (bread flour or all purpose it doesnt matter)

- lil bit of vaniller extract

- 3 table spoons of sugar? (i like it mildly sweet not too sweet bc the icing)

- lil bit of cinnamon

- lil bit of salt (no idea how much i kinda eyeball the amount. its less than the sugar tho)

- 1 or 2 tablespoons-ish of olive oil or butter or any oil rlly

- an egg for the eggwash (optional - just makes it golden brown n shiny. use egg tablespoon of cold water and pinch of salt)

- generic cream cheese icing recipe

DIRECTIONS

1. mix sugar in slightly warm milk in a big ol bowl

2. put the yeast in the warm milk and mix! dont heat the milk too much or youll kill the yeast or smthn. also the sugar helps the yeast do its thing so make sure you mix in the sugar beforehand. i cover the bowl for 15ish minutes until foam forms at the top of the liquid (thats the yeast bein Happy n Active)

3. add in olive oil and salt and cinnamon and vanilla extract and give it a stir.

4. add in flour. i use a machine sometimes bc my bones suck and i Hate the feeling of wet dough - you can use a silicone spatula as well if u also hate the feeling of wet dough. anyway mix it until its a shaggy-ish dough - itll be firmer bc of the sugar content. cover and let it rest for 15-30 minutes idk

5. stretch and fold the dough and cover for another 15-30 minutes

6. stretch and fold, cover and rest in a slightly warm area for a minimum of 1 and a half hours. sometimes i leave it in the fridge overnight. at max like 10ish hours. the dough will get Big N Huge if all goes well

7. after the dough is done resting, punch the dough so it deflates, take it out of the bowl and start stretching it slooowly til it becomes flat. or Pizza Dough Toss if ur bones can handle it. I just slowly rotate and hold the edges up, letting gravity do the work for me

8. once its flat, or at least flat-ish, cut it into strips using a knife or Chopping Appliance. roll up those strips, then cut those rolls in half as well. place them flat side down on a baking sheet with parchment paper. cover them and let them rest for another hour or so.

9. using a basting brush, rub a thin layer of eggwash on the top of the rolls. preheat the oven at 350 but lower it to 325-ish when putting the rolls in the oven (my oven runs hot tho). then i leave them in for 24 minutes, flipping them around half way thru (if ur oven has hot spots)

10. take it out of the oven and EAT ur CREATION.

(edit : i forgot... add cream at the bottom of the pan before baking if possible - milk might work too, i just had half n half cream in the fridge n needed 2 use it. not a lot, just enough for the dough 2 absorb a little bit while baking. makes it taste good n moist but still fluffy. the rolls will be a lil dry if u Dont do that but still good)

[ionlymadethissoicouldleaveanask]

Okay! Backstory for this one so that it makes some semblance of sense. This is a universe that @helix-enterprises117 and I came up with while shooting the breeze a bit ago, and it takes some groundwork, so here goes. First off - Bruce is quite a bit younger (30s-ish?) and he started fighting crime because after losing his parents he renounced his wealth and went soul-searching and crap and then came back later (fairly standard Batman origin, just a smaller age gap between him and his various teammates). Also, significantly, Jim Gordon is a bad guy. They still call him The Commissioner, but that's because he is a mafia boss who owns most of the GCPD. Dick Grayson has a slightly more Red Hood vibe, and he came back to Gotham specifically to kill Gordon because he is the one who got Dick's parents killed. The problem with that is that when he got to Gotham he started working for Gordon to get close enough to kill him and that resulted in him meeting Gordon's untouched aspiring-lawyer goody-two-shoes daughter, Barbara. Naturally they fell in love because that's just how I do. Eventually Dick (who has been working as a thug under the name Nightwing while secretly sabotaging all of The Commissioner's dastardly plans) runs into Batman. At first they fight, then they really learn to hate each other, but all the same they end up working together because Babs guilt-trips Dick into being a wholly good person again and drop the edginess. Also he calls Babs Cinnamon. And... I think that brings us up to speed. Anyway. If you've made it through all of that, here's the story!

Moniker

Dick Grayson was tired. No… tired didn’t quite cut it. He had cuts that were still weeping blood. Bruises had claimed ninety percent of the real estate known as his skin. He got dizzy just standing up - not that you would notice. Dick Grayson’s version of dizzy still managed to make the average person look like they were operating on a 0.5 blood-alcohol level. No… Dick wasn’t tired. He was exhausted. The kind of exhaustion that ran bone-deep. The kind that made you want to curl up in the safety and comfort of your bed and seriously consider the possibility of never climbing back out. Only… he didn’t have a safe, comfortable bed. He didn’t have much of a bed to speak of, in all honesty. He barely had an apartment. He’d decided he didn’t need one when he came back to Gotham - he was there for one reason, and one reason only. To get on the good side of The Commissioner… and then to put a bullet in his head.

Naturally, that hadn’t gone according to plan. No… Dick had to go and fall in love with the man’s daughter. Then he had to get guilt-tripped into trying to do some good in the world instead of just killing off the bad against which he had a particular vendetta.

That was how the former-hitman-turned-vigilante found himself sneaking through the window of what was probably the most well-secured, highly fortified apartment in all of Gotham. Even if Barbara had cut ties with her father’s criminal enterprise, that certainly didn’t mean that the old man didn’t find ways to keep eyes on her. Luckily for Dick, he was simply better than the Commissioner’s guys.

He made it into her bedroom silently. She wasn’t home, he knew - she had an advanced literature analysis lecture on Thursdays from 7:00 to 8:30. Usually he would wait for her to leave the lecture hall, take her to dinner, and generally go about pretending he wasn’t pathetically in love with her. Tonight… he just didn’t have it in him. He needed her.

Dick didn’t bother turning on the lights; he knew her apartment by feel at this point. Practically by smell. He made his way into her bathroom and grabbed the first-aid kit from the mirror, but saw that she had run out of ACE bandages - correction: he had already used all of them. He just shrugged it off, knowing that she kept a second first-aid kit in her bedroom closet. 

He made his way back, taking one misstep on the way. One of the so-called Penguin’s goons had gotten a particularly good hit on his back with a two-by-four earlier, and he was fairly certain he had a light concussion. Oh well. Cinnamon would chew him out for it later, and he would let her because even angry her voice was his favorite sound in the world.

Dick finally succumbed to the need for sight when it came to going through Babs’s closet so he flipped the switch before turning to fumble around blindly on the top shelf. Finally his fingers found purchase on the first aid kit, and he pulled it out roughly - only to bring a second object crashing down with it. It was a book, he confirmed with a cursory glance. It had fallen open when it hit the ground but he could see a glittery pink hardcover and a pink ribbon that he presumed was supposed to keep it shut. Watermarks of kittens on unicorns adorned the pages and everything inside was written in Cinnamon’s personal looping style. 

It was a diary. Nightwing bent down to grab it and put it back. He snuck into her apartment and helped himself to her medical supplies, but he wasn’t some peeping tom and he certainly wasn’t going to start rifling through her diary. They were her private thoughts, and he respected that. But then he saw the way she signed the entry, and his outstretched hand suddenly stopped.

Love, Mrs. Batman

Dick gingerly picked the book up, trying to be careful not to bleed on the pages, and stared at the offending letters. It wasn’t like he was expecting her to sign her name Barbara Grayson or something, but signing it as Mrs. Batman? It was concerning to say the least, and to his battered mind it bordered on insulting given the fact that he hated his partner-in-crimefighting and that she was supposed to be in love with the other vigilante out on the streets fighting for Gotham’s security and peace.

He was so busy staring at the three offending words - and just concussed enough - that he didn’t hear the sound of the front door opening. He didn’t hear her walk through the apartment, he didn’t even realize she was coming near until he saw the hallway light flick on and her shadow fell across her bedroom floor.

“Well, to what do I owe the pleasure?” she asked, her rich voice playful and flirtatious. “A tall, dark, masked stranger in my bedroom, eh? I didn’t know you were into that kind of game, but I can’t say I’m-” She trailed off when her eyes took in the extent of the injuries he had taken, and she quickly stepped forward and reached out for him. The flirtatious note dropped from her voice and she spoke urgently when she asked, “Dick, what happened?”

Dick, for his part, grunted something noncommittal. He felt a guilty warmth bleed into his cheeks as he realized he was standing there holding her diary of all things, and yet somehow there was a small corner of his mind that wanted to demand the story behind the moniker she had given herself.

He didn’t have the time to decide what he would even say if he did let himself ask her about it before Cinnamon was talking again. “Baby, you’re bleeding,” she said, pushing him toward her desk chair. “You have the medical kit in your hand, what are you…” She trailed off again when she noticed the book he was holding in his other hand. “Is that… is that my diary?”

Dick looked at her with a slightly dazed expression. “I wasn’t snooping,” he tried to defend himself, his words slower and slightly more slurred than usual. “It just… it fell open. And…” He fell to an uncomfortable, guilty silence as he realized that he could do no more than shrug embarrassedly and hope that Babs was willing to forgive this particular infraction.

“And you… decided to read it?” she asked, posting her hands on her hips and arching one perfect, crimson eyebrow as she stared down at him. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised when my crime-fighting detective boyfriend looks through my things, but I certainly wasn’t expecting it.” The bemused smirk curling the corners of her lips flattened slightly when she noticed the strange expression on his face and she crouched low enough to bring her eyes level with his to ask, “What’s the matter?”

Nightwing didn’t have an answer for her that didn’t sound jealous and accusatory, so he just shrugged again. Babs looked him over with concern in her beautiful green eyes that he wouldn’t mind getting lost in for the rest of his life, then dropped her gaze to the open page. “Dick, what’s… oh.”

When Barbara Gordon blushed, she didn’t turn pink. She turned bright red, a color so vibrant that she nearly matched her hair. Right now she was a shade slightly redder than her usual, even.

“Okay, I think I see what’s happening here,” she said bashfully, absentmindedly running her hand through his hair still damp with rain water. “And I just want to say - before you start thinking something stupid - that I wrote in this journal when I was fifteen and it’s been lost wherever you found it pretty much since then.”

Dick cocked his head to one side, both to express confusion and to lean into her hand like some kind of ridiculous touch-starved puppy. “I’m not… I just…” He took a deep breath and resigned himself to the fact that he wasn’t getting out of this without sounding like a jealous teenager. “Do you… do you have some kind of feelings for him?”

Cinnamon’s mouth dropped open for a moment as she listened to his question… then she laughed. She laughed hard enough that her shoulders started shaking, hard enough that even he started chuckling in spite of his concern.

“Wingnut, light of my life, you big beautiful dummy,” she said, carding her fingers through his hair again. “No, I don’t have feelings for him. I used to have a crush on him, sure… but that was before I met him.” She leaned close enough to bump her forehead playfully against his. “What’s the matter, Nightwing?” she asked playfully. “Are you jealous? That’s a new color on you, Boy Wonder. You’ve never been jealous of the guys I actually did date, but now you're getting defensive over one I didn't?”

Dick screwed his face into a mock scowl to hide the almost embarrassing sense of relief he felt. “Well first, you never signed your diary with the names of your ex boyfriends,” he fired back almost petulantly. “And second, none of those idiots were the living legend of Gotham.” It was a flimsy defense at best. Mostly he just hated Bruce and the thought of the love of his life having feelings for the man was enough to make him shrivel up inside like a slug in a salt shaker.

Babs laughed again, pressing her lips to his forehead in a sweet, lingering kiss. “Don’t worry, handsome - I promise that you’re the only superhero I have eyes for.”

Nightwing tipped his head back enough to catch her lips with his own and pressed a kiss against them that was passionate enough to make his head spin a little bit, concussion or no concussion. “So…” he said with a tone that was dazed as much from that kiss as it was from the piece of wood that had collided with the back of his skull, “does that mean you sign your diary as Mrs. Nightwing these days?” “I’m not dignifying that question with an answer,” Cinnamon shot back. “Now shut up and let me wrap these up before you start bleeding on my carpet.” Her emerald eyes sparkled playfully when they met hers when she added, “And if you’re good and let me do this without interrupting anymore, you might manage to persuade me to prove to you that you’re the only broody nightstalker I want in my diary… or in my bedroom.”

Nightwing pantomimed locking his lips, then threw away the imaginary key.