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#Dirty Deeds series
tenkox · 3 months
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my sister and i have decided to ruin our lives by redrawing the full-bodies of every single jjba character we deem important enough, along with their stands if they have one (or more). valentine's up first!!!
if i give up halfway ill be so mad
1/107(?) completed
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nonsupe · 1 year
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god save me this was the worst part.
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running-with-kn1ves · 17 days
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hii! i wanted to ask if you could do a yandere kidnapper x yandere darling? like rich depressed yan that can't imagine living without their darling and ended up taking drastic action, only to find out that darling is way more insane and obsessed passionate than they thought
A/N: I've never been super big on the yan x yan trope but I think this came out kinda cool! Hope this is what you were looking for <3
Synopsis: Sneaking into your beloved's bedroom bent on getting pictures for your stash, you're quickly found by him, who's surprisingly enthusiastic to find you breaking in.
CW: Kidnapping, mutual obsession, shrine dedications, murder (offscreen lol)
WC:3000+
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“Nice… new pics for the blog.” 
Your camera click click clicked with a shutter noise each time you rapid fired its capture button, eye so close to the screen you might as well be looking through the viewfinder solely itself. 
“I can see it now… his unkept bedroom revealed, beautiful little face plastered beside this… heap.” 
You looked at the pile of dirty clothes that had yet to be picked up by the estate's cleaning ladies. Well, if you were as filthy rich as he was, you’d probably do the same. Who would waste time cleaning their room when you have the whole world to see? Or in his case, a million press conferences to attend. 
Your eye was drawn to a slightly ajar closet, an odd lock seeming to have been hastily unfastened, now leaving the doors peeking open. Something red was inside. Oh boy, you could hardly contain your excitement. 
What kind of secrets would the famous, wealthy heir Elijah Walsh have in his teensy private closet? Mayhaps some drag dress up that no fan would expect? Dead bodies? Or even, the rumored cocaine stash his poor daddy was accused of hiding? 
You knew Elijah like the back of your hand, unable to imagine any kind of hidden truths that you haven't already discovered. For you, a superfan, (and ultimately, the soulmate he doesn't know about yet) were aware of far more than the average tabloid who didn’t cross trespassing boundaries for love like you had. 
You ripped open the doors without hesitation, snapping pics before even turning the light on. 
But what you saw, was something you weren’t sure you’d want to keep on camera. 
It was you. Well, a picture of you, from some yearbook or singled-out group shot that you couldn’t pinpoint the exact year from. Around your awkward grinning face was a series of items, pinned on a pretty red board like it was a crime scene of sorts. Or maybe… a shrine?
“What the f… is that my underwear??” You looked at the old pair of stretched out undies you had since middle school. Definitely not the pair you’d want some kind of stalker or investigator to get their hands on. 
You saw a few old chapsticks taped to the board, one of which you had been searching for in some old bag you swore you left it in. “I was looking for those!” You grabbed the chapstick and a broken brush, the exact same you thought you had thrown away months ago. 
Out of all the things you hoped to find-- used Q-tips, one of his musky jackets, maybe even some dark sex toys-- this wasn’t on your list. But you couldn’t help the spike in your heart, the flutter that made your toes point inward. 
You had been running this journalist (really a stalker-ish) blog on Elijah since before he got big in the press. You went to the same elementary school and for a short time in middle school, and ever since you couldn’t get his name out of your head. Now, you had a justified reason to keep tabs on him, since his family was currently in the public eye for a variety of deeds. 
Along with professing your obsession with him since childhood, your blog dated the shocking events of his controversies--  keeping it all under an anonymous pen name, of course. You had information news sites couldn’t get their hands on; the dedication you put into watching him was a trait of pride you could never let go. 
Memories of him comforted you at night, and seeing his pretty face in the grocery store magazines hoarded under your bed made you drift off to daydream land where, maybe, you’d be more than just some heavy breathing keyboard jammer fawning over him from a distance.. 
And here was, you. Your things. In his room. Even from the times you climbed the tree beside his window, you never saw this… anomaly of items. 
“What’s this even… mean.” You whispered, dumfounded and growing antsy. Elijah would be coming back now any second, the route of his driver dinging on your phone. 
‘Wait.. does he, know? That I’ve been watching him? Is this all evidence to… incriminate me??’
Worry was creeping up inside of you. But there was no time, not when a heavy vase clunked against your head from behind, letting out a resounding ‘crack!’ from the contact. The chapstick fell from your fingers, camera sliding with you as it lingered loose around your neck. 
The last thing you could think of before darkness hit, was ‘man, I hope I don’t fall on my camera… can’t replace it again. ‘
The unconscious darkness blinding your eyes was snuffed out what seemed hours later, replaced by a buzzing yellow light hanging from the ceiling. You groaned outloud, feeling groggy; an aching pain throbbed in your slumped neck and a sore bump on your scalp. 
‘Got a killer headache…’ 
You tried to pull your hands up to the bump to feel for a bruise, but fell flat with your arms tucked behind your back. You jerked them around, not realizing that they in fact were stuck together-- tied by rope, or some kind of fabric. 
“Thank god, you’re awake. Thought maybe I hit you too hard-- I don’t know what i’d do if that happened.” A familiar voice rang out in the musty, echoing room. 
“What…?” You croaked, trying to look up without facing the wrath of your headache the more light entered your eyes.
“Here, drink some water.” 
A bottle came in front of you, so close to your lips all you had to do was bend down to touch it. You did so without thinking, tasting the sandpaper of a tongue you were stuck with. As soon as the cool water touched your throat, you thought about potential poisoning. Who was this person bottle-feeding you water, why couldn’t you do it yourself?? 
You were too thirsty to care about the consequences, gulping it down as the bottle lifted higher to accommodate you. 
Letting out a pant, you sat back, trying to rub water off your lip with a shoulder shimmy. 
“Where am I? What’s going on--” It all started to come back to you, being in Elijah’s room, trespassing on private property, seeing the closet hoard of you. “Wait, please don’t report me, I promise it isn’t what you think it was…”
“Report you?” The masculine tone scoffed, a hand falling to your shoulder. “I was worried I’d never get a chance like this… you made it so easy, how’d you get in? The window?”
“...Yeah.” You sheepishly replied, looking up at your captor. “It’s not as easy as it looks.”
Oh shit. That was Elijah right in front of you. In the flesh, pretty pearly teeth grinning only inches away from your face as his hand rested on your left shoulder, gently massaging it.
“Is your head okay? I feel bad but.. I wasn’t thinking, could only think about how to keep you here.”
Keep you here? Oh no, does that mean the police are on their way??
“Now.. I don’t have to worry about sending people out to your apartment anymore.. No more security cameras, no more blackmail… just you.” He stroked the side of your cheek that was inflamed from falling against the floor. “Damn. I thought i’d have to go through the trouble of taking you in the middle of the night, I had just sent my driver out for my tools too- but, looks like that’s not even an issue anymore!”
Well, sounds like your fears about the cops was no where near the truth. But now, you were even more confused. Taking you? Stalking? Blackmail? It almost felt like you were listening to yourself talk for a second. 
Behind the dark glare covering his eyes, you could see Elijah’s trademark dimples, his pinkish lips covering the slight overbite he had, constantly showing off his front few teeth. You knew those downturned eyes were there somewhere, even with their shine dulled by the shadows of what looked to be a dark cellar around you. 
His hair was unkempt, thick, dark strands covering his ears and going so far to the base of his neck. Wow, you had never seen him look so scruffy, even when watching from outside, seeing him brush his teeth in shirtless pajamas. He looked worried, shirt untucked and pants wrinkled as he ran a hand through his hair. 
“And I’m sorry to say.. But don’t even think about trying to run away now. I made up my mind long ago, and if I find out that--”
“Urk, I wasn’t planning on it. I saw, the uh, dedication board. Or, shrine?”
At that, Elijah stopped. His baby blue eyes went wide for a moment, forgetting that was where he originally found you until now. 
You hid your head down in discomfort.  
“I have the same one…of you, in my apartment… in a box under my bed. There’s even a piece of hair from middleschool that I c..ut, from you.” You held back a nauseous gag at the admission. But here you were, this was your chance to prove how much you loved him, how much dedication you put towards understanding his every move, every like and dislike, the intricacies of his family history. “Do you know why I was in your room?” You asked, wondering if he already had seen your worship blog. 
Elijah took a step back, lowering to sit on a pulled out fold-up chair across from you. His knees touched yours, still dressed in his black slacks and matching loafers, rolled up sleeves on his cream-colored button up that showed he had taken liberties to get more comfortable for the night. 
“I’ll be honest I hadn’t contemplated that… just about how perfect of a chance it was, that you-- my uh, small, obsession since fifth grade.. Was here.” He looked down, a small red tint creeping from his cheeks to the rest of his face. He was bright crimson, like a kid again confessing to his crush behind the bleachers. “But you remember me?? From so long ago? I can’t… Its hard to imagine, i’ve been watching you for years and thought you had completely forgotten about me.”
“Are you kidding?” You watched Elijah rub his eyes, trying to hide his face behind his knuckles. “You’re all over the news, even if I wanted to avoid you. But I haven’t stopped following your every move since, I can’t remember. Every house change, new school, shopping trip with your mother… anytime I was free I dedicated it to watching you, or my--”
You cut yourself off, stepping one foot off into the deep end on a subject you desperately wanted kept hidden. 
“If I knew any better I’d say you sound like a bit of a stalker.” Elijah tried to hide his grin behind his hand, leaning forward to get a closer look at you. “What were you going to say?”
“My…blog.” 
“Blog?” He parroted. 
“It’s a…. Dedication blog. To you.”
“Oh, like an obsessed fan?” He jeered, laughing with bright teeth as he braced his shaking from on his knee.  “Don’t tell me-- you snuck in here for content to your blog?”
“No-! Well, yes. But some of it was going in my private stash…” You pouted, knowing you’d never get that chance again now that you’ve been discovered. Your days of fawning were going to come to a close. 
“So you must be the one who keeps finding a way to get pictures when I never see any reporters around. By, breaking into my home.” 
“That sounds really bad.. But I promise I wasn’t going to try to steal, or hurt you!”
That only made him laugh harder.
“I can’t… can’t believe I never saw you..” He wheezed, face flushed as you sat rotting in embarrassment and shame. “I had drivers chase after you for hours when you disappeared-- but you were five steps behind me the entire time!”
Drivers… your brain clicked two and two together as he tried to stop from giggling while hunched over. 
“...Drivers?” You question. No way this is what yout thought it was.”So you’ve been spying on me?”
“Don’t sound so offended, little stalker,” He settled down, a permanent smile still on his mouth as he dragged the steel chair somehow closer. “ You’ve been hard to catch, but i’ve been keeping tabs on you, as unseemingly as it is. I couldn’t do it myself but I wanted to make sure you were, okay. Before it was safe to bring you home. Though I had nothing to fear about you forgetting me at all!”
You swallowed, mouth having gone back to a dry desert as you contemplated what this all meant. YOUR Elijah was spying on you in your home? Sending out underlings to watch and make sure you were safe? The man who you’d lay your life down for? You fantasized, imagining him at your window, you-- freshly out of the shower…
“What do you mean by home? You don’t mean.. Here, in the estate, right?”
Elijah observed you so fully, it made you nervous. He had never given someone this much attention in interviews, nonetheless in the photos and videos you managed to snap of him alone. And he was looking at you, with those eyes. 
You didn’t know how much longer you could take it. Smelling his sandalwood with his knees pressing against yours, his finely ironed shirt toned against him-- right here, in the flesh. You always thought you’d be at a distance, never able to come in contact with him.. And now, you were tied up in his family’s wine cellar. 
“Of course my darling. Where else? I can’t possibly send you back to that dungeon of an apartment. And you,” He stood, intent on coming closer. “Came in so willingly, huh? Didn’t think you’d return my love so… earnestly.”
“W-well who said anything about staying?” You sputtered, looking at his eyes glower in an exceedingly dark fashion. “I mean…. You love me? I’d accepted I’d never be seen by you but… you’ve been watching, the entire time?”
He stood up from his chair with a slight creak, causing your neck to strain upwards to look at him. A small touch caressed the end of your chin, his finger smoothening as it lifted your head to meet his gaze. 
He hummed, Elijah’s eyes full of an expression you’ve never seen him wear before. Something in the mix of a sentimental possession, and a lover. But it was so tender, you couldn’t look away. It was so safe, so familiar. You recognized that look in the mirror, visible in your own eyes when you planted kisses on his printed photo taped to your vanity. 
“Haven’t been able to keep you off my mind since you plucked that leaf off of my spoiled head. Love doesn’t even begin to describe it. I need, you.” 
His gaze was so genuine, your eyes soothed by the glazed over grin he gave you, leaning down to hunch on his knees to be closer to you. 
“I…” You breathed, wondering if this was a dream. “I’ve wanted you to see me.. for so long. Is this real?” 
You stopped working. There was no chance that he had been watching you, wondering and waiting for you to recognize him, when you were longing for his attention, having convinced yourself long ago you’d only be able to possess him from a distance. 
Soft fingers that hadn’t worked a day in their lives creeped up your knees, Elijah’s face only inches away as his eyelids lowed, looking sultry as he watched you squirm. 
“I pray it’s not.” He exhaled. 
“...Well, I’m not staying tied up in this chair, no matter how much you beg. Though… I can’t say I’d mind staying with you. Being with you.. Here, together.”
“Good. It wasn’t really a matter of choice, anyway.” He grinned, pressing a slow kiss to your cheek. 
You involuntarily hummed in content, pressing closer to his lips as you arched out of the chair, longing to touch his warm body. He was kissing you; somebody get you out of these ropes before you jump the man. 
Elijah couldn’t help but grin like a maniac, drugged on the way you relished his touch and pressed your chest forward to him. He rushed kisses to your chin, bites to your ear and licks to your neck with a groan. 
But a sudden stop brought your blissfully closed eyes to an open. 
“I’m sorry… want you too much, it’s getting to the better of me.”
“I’m not sorry,” You mumble, hoping that if this was a dream, you wouldn’t ever wake up. “Please, don’t stop.. I’ve killed for this, don’t stop now.”
“You tempt me too much,” He chuckles, gripping the sides of your chair seat to stablize himself leering over you. “So lucky you were my little creepy stalker, and no one else’s. Wouldn’t be able to control myself otherwise.”
“Stalker, murderer of your old lovers… I have many names.” You joked, but the bitterness on your tongue remembering those placeholders you got rid of was sour. 
“Many talents, too.” Elijah’s eyebrows furrowed. “You’re the one that caused my fiances to dissapear? I wondered how they kept doing that,” He looked keenly, seeing right through your little ‘joke’. “Even I couldn’t shoo my mothers’ arranged partners away.”
You tried to look away, embarrassment showing on the way you bit your lips clean and your heartbeat wrapped. “I did it in your name….  I couldn’t stand them thinking they were worth being so close and casual with you! It was infuriating every time I saw it I-- I just  couldn’t take it anymore. Even if it meant I’d never have you.” 
Elijah buried himself in your hair, holding you tight. The squeeze was so personable, hungry and desperate to hold all of you.
 “You have me now, you have me completely. I want you-- what a favor you have done, and you hadn’t even known.”
It felt so good, praised for such hard and hateful work you carried out. Their bodies were mangled, your rage manifesting in the corpses buried under the old golf course near your dingy apartment complex-- and he was happy you did it. Oh, you wanted to hold him, to smell him fully. These binds were stopping you from caressing the lover, the dream you had fantasized holding you to sleep so often, spooning the jackets and dresshirts of his musk in replacement for comfort. 
Elijah still snickered in your ear, playing with the tips of your hair.
“But now, I have to see this blog. I’m too curious-- though I can’t say seeing it will help my small obsession for you. A stalking blog-- too cute.”
You were still so shameful of it, now that he brought it up. You didn’t want your soulmate to see the virtual shrine you had dedicated to him, your unseemly thoughts and hungry urges that were far too detailed and graphic to be shared with their perpetrator. But what choice did you have? He’d find it, one way or another. 
“F..fine. But you’d you atleast untie me now? My arms are getting sore.”
That seemed to cease his light-hearted expression, frowning against your skull as he inhaled the sweet scent of your hair. It was the same as he remembered, now a decade later. 
“You’re not gonna try to leave, are you?” He murmured, caressing pinching your ear with a light tone. But something dangerous was held behind it. It was frightening.. But oh, as if the possessiveness didn’t fuel how much more your insides craved him. 
“Do you think I’d really try to go anywhere? Not when you’re so accessible to me now.” You looked over. Elijah’s lashes looked so long up close, sweetly deadpanned eyes watching as if you were being tested, hunted. 
He seemed to find your answer appealing, getting up and pulling something out of his back pocket. Leaning down once more, you saw the switchblade bobbing between his hands, a pretty and simple hunting blade. He leaned over you, pressing it against the knot above your wrists. 
You focused on feeling for the blade as to not get cut, only for your attention to be pulled back to the spoiled one-percenters lips pressing yours directly. It was a shock, more than anything. You wished you had seen it coming, wish you had been better prepared to share your first kiss with your darling! 
Elijah left your mouth nowhere to run as he pressed up against you, fervidly ensnaring your lips between his.
You gladly accepted the pull away for a second kiss, leaning up as much as you could while hiding your desperation. He was so soft, lips gentle and big as they enveloped your bitten ones. 
“Sorry,” Elijah broke away slowly, not straying far. “I’ve wanted to do that for ages.” You watched his eyes stare wonders at your lips, fingers brushing against your trapped ones from behind as the task at hand was forgotten. 
“Me too.” You uttered, pulling forward to kiss him again with an open, insatiable mouth. 
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thetriumphantpanda · 8 days
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i don't really wanna fight, 'cause nobody's gonna win | javier peña
Take The Weight Off His Shoulders - Chapter Eight
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Chapter Summary | A little slice of domesticity wasn't ever going to be enough to cover the stress of the story unfolding on your desk, but it was worth a shot right?
Chapter Warnings | Mentions of drugs and the drug trade, work frustrations, explicit smut, fingering, unprotected PiV smut, creampie, dirty talk, we ride this man like our LIFE depends on it and some ANGST (I'm sorry, it had to happen sometime.)
Pairing | dbf!Javier Peña x F!Reader
Word Count | 3.2k
Authors Note | OOOOOF okay we're back with these two. Real life has been kicking my ass so I'm sorry this took so long - but we're moving into the tail end of this now so prepare yourselves for even more drama! Thank you for being so patient with me and waiting for this - I hope you enjoy it. If you are enjoying this then reblogs and comments really do help and if you’d like to support me further, please consider a donation to my Ko-Fi. 
I no longer use taglists. Please follow @thetriumphantpandanotifs to be notified of new updates.
Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist | Ko-Fi | Series Playlist
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The words on the deed to the drug den in town are all forming into one - you’re not actually sure they’re in the English language anymore. You’ve been staring at the pages for what feels like a full week, even if you’d only spread them out for reading on your desk this morning. You don’t know what to do. There is, of course, the obvious option, of walking right up to their front door and asking what the hell is going on, but the more you dig, the more you think there’s something bigger going on here.
You pour over your notes, trying to make sense of it all. It was nothing to do with Tyler Johnson, but it had something to do with his family, that was for sure. There’s no way that this whole thing would have been brushed under the rug and dealt with by the police saying ‘oh well, we don’t know’ if there wasn’t something incriminating behind it all. You tried not to think about that possibly meaning your dad was implicated somewhere along the line.
Instead of sitting around and feeling useless, considering the words on the page weren’t leading you anywhere at all, you tidy up your desk, stick your head around your managers door to tell her you were heading out for the story, and you get in your car and drive.
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They lead such dull lives, is all you can really think at this point. The sun is setting and it’s finally starting to cool a little. The thought process had been simple, if you weren’t going to catch them in the act on paper, you would have to catch them in the act for real - whatever that act might be.
You’d started with Tyler’s dad, following behind him as he went about mayoral business, driving from his office to some meeting in town and then back again. You’d waited an hour in the parking lot to see if he moved again, but gave up after a while. Deciding on following Tyler’s brother instead - but he’d been more of the same. You’d found him getting into his car at work once the day was done, driving to the grocery store and then going home. That was it. Nothing out of the ordinary.
Thinking about it, what would you even do if you did find them doing something? Tyler’s brother getting a package handed to him down a dark alley - there’s no way to get any proof, you don’t have a camera, and no-one’s going to believe you against them. The more you sit there, the more you think maybe you should have taken the story at face value, published it and moved on.
You suppose that these kinds of operations take time and patience - two things you were running seriously low on by now. You’re thinking of all the time’s Javi must have needed to do this - sitting around in a car waiting to catch someone doing something and wondered how he’d lasted so long. You weren’t made for this kind of work.
Sighing to yourself, you turn the key in the ignition and head home, trying not to let the frustration bubble over. You just had to wait. Bide your time. Surely somewhere along the line you’d catch someone doing something.
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“You look stressed.”
You look at Javi through your eyelashes, taking a sip from the glass of wine in front of you on the counter. Your parents were taking their two week annual vacation - some place near the coast in Florida. You remember going when you were little, playing in the sand and swimming. They’d invited you this year but now you were older, it didn’t hold quite the same amount of charm as it used to, so you’d opted to stay at home.
The upside to not getting to lounge in the sun for two weeks was definitely this though. Javier Peña, hunched over the hob, sleeves of his shirt rolled up, cooking dinner for you. It was dangerous to think about how domestic it was, but you couldn’t deny how nice it felt. There was no-one to lie to about why you were late home from work for now, no need to rush through whatever it was that the two of you were doing.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t need to be sorry,” He smiles at you, picking up his beer bottle to drink from, “You want to talk about it?”
You shake your head, “It’s alright, just stuff at work.”
“In all my years of working with journalists,” He speaks, stirring the pot of sauce in front of him, “I don’t think any of them were ever as stressed as you.”
“I just care about my work.”
“So did they,” He counters, picking a strand of spaghetti from the pot to test to see if it’s cooked, “Just trying to say there isn’t a story out there worth getting this worked up over.”
“I appreciate it,” You mumble, “But can we not talk about work?”
He holds his hands up in surrender, focusing his attention on dishing up the food - spaghetti with tomato sauce. It’s simple and you know it’s probably the limit of his cooking ability outside of being able to grill meat on fire, but it’s the thought that counts. You sit at the dining table and eat together, talking about nothing really, just enough to fill the silence. Even though he cooked, he insists on clearing up and packaging the leftovers for you to eat tomorrow.
You sit and watch TV on the couch and when it gets late enough and your head starts to rest on his shoulder, Javi asks if you want to go to bed.
“I do,” You answer, “But not to sleep.”
So he slowly leads you up the stairs and into your room, softly closing the door behind him. You settle yourself under your sheets, pushing them back on the other side for him as he takes off everything he’s wearing apart from his underwear and gets into bed with you. He shuffles you around so your back in pressed to his front, his big hands wandering from your hips up to your chest, where he gently cups one of your tits in his hands over the shirt you’re wearing.
You can feel his mouth trailing kissing up your shoulder until he reaches the delicate skin behind your ear, the tickle of his facial hair there making goosebumps rise on your skin, regardless of how warm it is under your sheets.
“What do you want?” He whispers softly, snaking his free arm under your neck so the side of your face is pillowed against it.
You don’t answer, you just take hold of his wrist, dragging his hand from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. You let his hand go then, feeling his big palm cup you through the material, “Like this?” He asks, teeth nipping at your ear lobe.
“No,” You shake your head, “Under.”
That big hand drags up just a little, fingers finding the waistband again, dipping below this time. He tuts into your ear when he finds you bare, having not bothered with underwear when you’d changed out of your work clothes.
His hand is warm against your skin as it envelops you again, fingers dipping ever so slightly between the folds of your pussy to find you already wet, it doesn’t take much at all when he’s around.
Fingers dragging through the slick, up to circle your clit, he speaks again, “Like this?” He asks, feather-light touches of his fingers making you gasp.
“Y-yeah,” You choke out, “Just like that.”
So that’s what he does - let’s you rest your head against his arm, lazily rolling his finger across that bundle of nerves like he has all the time in the world for making you feel good. It’s slow, the only punctuation to his fingers are the moans he lets out into your ear whenever he pushes his hips against the plush of your ass, his bulge prominent against the clothes that are separating you.
“I want you to come for me,” He whispers gently a little while later, teeth biting gently into the skin of your shoulder, “Can you be a good girl and do that for me?”
You nod your head, unable to speak through the short, sharp gasps that the friction between your legs is drawing out from you. He speeds up a little, lets his finger add more pressure there. He lets you roll your hips, chasing at the high that is just there, coiling in your tummy. Your body starts to shake, thighs clamping down on his hands as he brings you over the edge.
“Fuck yeah,” He rasps into your ear, “So fucking pretty when you come for me, mi querida.”
Through the haze of pleasure, you can feel him rolling you over, pressing your back into the sheets. He’s settling between your thighs, pulling your shorts off altogether, but you don’t want it like this, so you press a palm to his warm chest to stop him.
“I want…” You trail off, “I think I want to be on top.”
You watch his eyebrows raise a little but he doesn’t protest, because of course he doesn’t, he simply lies himself back down on his side of the bed and waits for you. You let yourself straddle his thighs, marvelling just a little at the bulge of his underwear, before you’re hooking your fingers into the waistband to drag them just far enough down his thighs to let his cock spring free, resting on his lower stomach.
Shuffling up his thighs a little, you lower yourself, letting your soaked folds drag across his length whilst your mouth moves up to suckle at the skin of his neck. You can feel his hands on the globes of your ass, helping to drag you up and down his cock.
“Feels good, doesn’t it?” He asks as you moan when the head of his cock brushes against your still-sensitive clit.
You don’t have any words, so you press yourself up, palms against his chest as you lift your hips just enough for him to reach between you, base of his cock fisted in his hand, to nudge at the weeping hole of your cunt. He holds it there for you as you slowly start to sink down onto him, moaning with your head thrown back at the stretch of taking him inside. When you reach the bottom, feeling him sucked right into the depths of you, you stay still, rolling your hips a little, feeling him so deep inside you.
Javi brings his hands to your hips, looking up at you as he guides your movements, slow forwards movements matched with even slower movements backwards, until the two of you are panting together.
You push yourself back, letting your arms fall behind you onto his knees, which have come up to rest against your backside, slowly starting to lift off him until he’s almost all the way out of the tight heat of your cunt, then you slide back down onto him, finding a rhythm of bouncing up and down on his cock.
Javi moves one of his hands from your hips, letting the flat palm run up your stomach, through the valley of your tits to lightly grip at the base of your neck. He doesn’t add any pressure, just holds his hand there, but you can feel the effect it has on you, pussy clenching around his length as you continue to bounce up and down on him.
“Look so fucking pretty like this,” He manages to choke out between moans, “Like you were made to be right here bouncing on my cock.”
“I-I think I’m g-gonna come again.” You hiss, feeling that familiar tightening in your tummy.
“Yeah?” He goads, but not unkindly, “You gonna come around my cock for me?”
To help you get there, Javi starts to thrust up into you, hand still at the base of your neck, hitting into your perfectly on your downward motion to fill you right to your depths, making your orgasm hit you head on. You feel yourself tighten around him, body collapsing forward to rest against his chest as he fucks you through the aftershocks of your climax, gripping onto your ass to keep you spread so he can find his own high, thrusting a handful of times before he’s stilling inside you, spilling himself inside with moans right into your ear.
He slips out of you as he softens, shifting you so you’re led down, both catching your breath.
“Sorry, I should have asked about that.” He mumbles, and it takes you a minute to realise he’s talking about coming inside you.
“It’s okay,” You say, turning your head to smile at him, “Although it does mean I have to go to the bathroom now.”
You drag yourself up onto all fours onto your bed, dragging yourself to the door to cover yourself in your robe before you leave Javi in your room to head to the bathroom.
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He doesn’t know why he does it. In hindsight, it was out of order, but when you close the door behind you, he can’t help himself. He stands up, pulls his underwear back up and puts the rest of his clothes back on. Then he sits down on your edge of the bed and gingerly opens the top drawer of your bedside table.
There’s nothing much of note in there, a few lip balms and an old notebook, but that’s it. He opens the bottom one next, which is much more full, mainly with notebooks and sheets of paper. He knows he shouldn’t, but he reaches in and picks the first up, flicking it open to a random page somewhere in the middle, running his thumb across a loose sheet of paper before his eyes circle in on what the paper actually is.
It’s a newspaper article, reporting on Escobar’s death. When Javi looks underneath the paper there are notes written in your handwriting, detailing parts of the story that are interesting. He flicks to another page, another article about Escobar dying, with more of your handwritten notes. He can feel the panic rising in his chest, threatening to take hold of his throat.
He puts that notebook on the bed, reaches in and picks another up, flicking through to find more of the same - articles about the entire Escobar case, more handwritten notes - some written in red ink that only ever say his name with a question mark, like you’re asking yourself if he was responsible for the ill-reported heroics. Javi is too caught up in flicking through that he forgets about your return, letting you catch him red-handed when you come back through the door.
“What are you doing?” You ask, making him look up.
Your eyes are wide, like you’re shocked to find him with your notebooks in his lap.
“What’s all this?” He asks, instead of answering your question.
You surge forward, grabbing the notebook from his lap, slapping it shut, picking up the other one and then shoving them back in the drawer, “Did you go through my things?” He can tell from your tone that you’re worked up.
“Why do you have all of that?” Javi asks, standing up from the bed to take some steps away from you.
“It’s not what you think.”
“Well then tell me what it is.” He’s getting more annoyed as the moments go past.
“It was for my degree,” You say, shifting from foot-to-foot, “I don’t understand what the problem is?”
“The problem is, it’s all fucking lies!” He runs a hand over his face, more annoyed at himself for shouting at you than anything else, “It’s all fucking lies and you believe it.”
He watches as your face drops, he can see the glassing over of your eyes, “I-” You try to speak, “I’m sorry?” It’s more of an offering, like you don’t know what else to do.
“All of that shit?” He asks, pointing to the now closed drawer, “Fucking propaganda for this country to seem like it had control, when all it fucking did was make everything worse.”
“Javi, please,” You beg now, taking a step towards him with your hands open in surrender, “Why don’t you sit down and take a breath?”
He can feel himself shaking his head, stepping backwards until he can feel the handle of your door, twisting it to open. He thinks he’s saying sorry, telling you that he’s sorry, but he doesn’t know. All he knows is that he has to get out of there and away from you, almost running from the house and into his truck.
It’s not until he’s halfway to home that he can feel that panic take over, pulling over on the side of the road, knuckles turning white as he grips the steering wheel. He takes some deep breaths, trying to understand why his brain has gone from 0-100 so quickly, and all he can think of is that you’re just like everyone else in this damn town, thinking that he was a hero, that he’d played his part properly, correctly, in bringing that bastard down. I’d the wondering about what you’d think of him if you knew what he’d really done, the amount of blood actually on his hands, the fact he wasn’t here there when Murphy shot the bastard.
It’s that feeling of inadequacy that haunt him in bed that night, led against the pillows, other side cold and empty when all he wishes is that he’d stayed, let you curl into him so that he could get at least a few hours of rest. Even though he never stays the night, always leaving you with a press of lips to your head, the small hours of the morning where you’re sleeping against him are the most peaceful he thinks he’s ever had.
So, staring at his ceiling, red numbers from his clock staring him down as the hours pass, all he can think about it what the fuck he’s going to do, how he’s going to explain that this has nothing to do with you and what it had to do with your degree, and everything to do with the way he thinks if you knew exactly what had happened, outside of what the American press has told you, you’d probably hate him.
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saradika · 1 year
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— only if for a night
[series masterlist]
din djarin x f!reader
Rated E - 6.5k
Tags: spoilers for 03.01, neighbor!din, established past encounter, flirting / mutual yearning, hot springs makeout, soft dom!din, outercourse, fingering, oral (f receiving), multiple orgasms, dirty talk, PiV
A/N: based on that little line from s03.01 about the hot springs. Many liberties taken with the creed.
When it appears the droid repair will take longer than expected, Din finds himself taking Karga up on the offer for the parcel of land.
And when you go to give your new neighbor a warm welcome - you never imagine that it would be the very man you haven’t been to stop thinking about.
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He’d never been all that great at saying no.
It was easy when he was on the job - dealing with strangers. Questions rarely came when the saw him as just a symbol. Something to be feared.
A Mandalorian.
When it was a friend… well, that was a different story. Somehow, Karga had gotten under his skin. Twisting words around until he found himself agreeing to that parcel of land, out by the flats.
His stay was only temporary. That, he made sure of to mention. More than once, each time more firmly.
“Ah, but you always come back.” Karga had smiled, while they overlooked the city, “I know you have your business to attend to.”
Glancing down at Grogu, still spinning in the chair, “But wouldn’t it be nice to have a home to return to? To know you have a place, here?”
“I’ll think about it.” He had hedged, hands braced on his hips.
Somewhere along their walk later - their path had changed. Through the center of town, past the now deconstructed monument.
Before he knew it, he was in the middle of the tidy hut - Grogu wandering through the back door and into the sizable yard, as he found himself signing the deed.
“We’ll worry about the details later.” Karga had winked - and then he was gone.
Leaving Din alone, in his new space. Half-exasperated as he checks through the rooms.
A living space that flows into a small kitchen. Smoothed stone walls, a hallway that leads to a bathroom, with a full-sized sonic. The sharp right curve as the building continues back - a master bedroom taking up the last third of the L-shaped unit.
It might be nice to have a private place to sleep for a few days, while he waited for IG-11 to be repaired. His legs and back aching from sleeping in the starfighter.
And he’s never loved inns. Never trusted them completely - not even on Nevarro.
A small head peeks around the doorway, as he stands in the middle of the bedroom. The cotton curtains fluttering with the breeze, a view of the hot springs and the thick line of trees visible from the open window.
“What do you think, kid?” He finds himself asking.
Grogu coos happily, and his lips curve underneath his helmet.
“Yeah.” He hums. “I think so, too.”
———
“Finally sold that place, next to yours.”
You frown, glancing up from your datapad. Feet kicked up on the desk in your office, catching up on comms.
The news is unexpected, you hadn’t known anyone was looking at the property. Karga hadn’t pressed for you to put out any advertisements in the past couple weeks. Acted like he’s been saving it - but for what, you didn’t know.
“Would say I’m glad, but I was getting used to the private hot springs access.” You smile, removing your feet, pushing yourself up to greet him, “You need me to get the paperwork together?”
“No need, I handled it.”
That makes your eyebrow raise. Karga had certainly done a lot for Nevarro. The green trees outside - the expansion of the city - was more than enough proof.
But you had never seen him handle any of the minute details. Never had been his style.
No, that was your job.
“I’d like you to stop by though.” He says, fingers stroking the white bristles of his beard, “Make sure he’s doing alright. Explain about the expansions, I didn’t get a chance to cover that part.”
“Sure thing.” You nod, already collecting your things, “You know I would anyways, since he’s my neighbor and all.”
But Karga’s focus on this new buyer nudges at your attention - a beat passing, before you add, “Is it someone high profile? Should I know them?”
His answering look is knowing. And cryptic, as only he can be, “Something like that.”
Leaving your office with an amused smile - and you more curious than ever.
———
Your fist raps twice on the closed blast door. A hand smoothing down the front of your tunic, wrinkled with your brisk walk over from the office. The basket tucked under your arm, filled to the brim with goodies hand-picked from "the stash".
A crate stored in one of Karga's many rooms, filled with gifts from shops in town, potential business partners, visiting travellers.
Anything expensive he accepted for himself - the rest you collect, with the dual purpose of handling it for him, and finding a use for the item.
Creating welcome kits for all those who are new to the city, things to make their houses feel more like homes. Blankets to fend off the evening chill. Vouchers for a warm meal at the local cantina. Dried meats and fruits - trinkets for the children if there are any.
Fingers crossed that your new neighbor is someone nice. Not like that Weequay you had roomed next to when you had lived downtown - keeping you up late with their band practice. Chords loudly strum on their hallisket, somehow always off-key. Overly rude, whenever you had gently tried to bring it up.
Back then, you woke with the dawn, due down at the new school just after daybreak. Rough did not even begin to cover it.
Moving out here, the change in your duties, had been nice. Certainly a walk every morning, but the privacy was well appreciated.
Quiet nights after spending the day keeping up with the whirlwind that was Greef Karga. Soaking away the stress in the small clusters of hot springs that make their way along the flats.
No one answers, so you inch around the side of the building to check the back. One of the many bonuses about being this far out - the large yards and extra space. Past the narrow landing pad - the shining chrome ship that rests on it.
Your nose wrinkles at the sleek lines, the overall ostentation.
Stars, if it's another 'Karga'...
Pushing the thought aside as you call out, ahead, "Hello! Anyone home?"
"Back here." A voice replies, sounding muffled.
You’re rounding the corner of the hut, when you freeze. Only the vice-like grip on the handle keeping the basket from tumbling across the stone patio.
Because you do know him.
Intimately.
Though it’s been a while. Over a year, maybe two?
But there was no mistaking the shine of his silver armor. The little friend that’s still by his side.
“Oh.” You greet him, intelligently.
His helmet turns at your voice, his own form going still for a long moment. The child lets out a coo, his small head turning as he leans over the edge of the water, splashing the surface.
“Hi. Karga sent me over. I mean, I would have come anyways.” You clear your throat as you find your voice - hiking a thumb over your shoulder, “Seeing as we’re neighbors, and all.”
“Neighbors.” He repeats, his voice a low monotone.
It’s so strange to hear it again.
You’d spent ages thinking about it. About that night. It wasn’t supposed to be anything more than blowing off steam.
Back then, you had still worked at the school. Filling in as the teaching droid became accustomed to the class - still developing the emotional intelligence part of its AI.
You had been an aide, making sure things ran smoothly. And it had, until those few days that the Child had been in attendance.
It still makes you smile to remember the bits of blue cookie smeared on his face.
That’s when you had met the Mandalorian, picking up his child. And then running into him again, later at the cantina.
Ending up in his ship, even later after that. Staying longer than you meant to, until the indigo sky was streaked with pink and grey.
You still think about the cold bite of his armor against your bare skin. The low rasp of his voice, lips forming around rough words of praise that had burrowed into your brain.
Just one night, but it had stayed in your memory for the hundreds that came after.
“Uh, yes.” You snap back to reality, as you jiggle the basket. Walking over, because it was too late to flee - setting it down on the low stone table.
Your face heats - you're not sure how to word this. Unsure if it was more awkward to get out with it, or pretend like this was the first time you’ve met.
After a moment, you make your decision. Better to just be honest.
Your hand extends, as you give him your name. A small cringe of a smile, as you hedge, "I don't know if you remember-"
His answer cuts you off, as his hand takes yours, "I do."
Oh.
The vocoder makes it impossible to tell the exact tone of his response. If it was a good memory, or if he was disappointed in this strange reunion.
You’re saved from the awkwardness of not knowing, when the child toddles over. A wide grin spreads over your face, plucking a treat out of the basket.
“Just look at you!” Sinking to your knees - you glance up, before handing the piece of candy over, “Is this okay?”
The Mandalorian’s head dips in a nod, a heat in your cheeks as you turn back. Placing it into the little outstretched hands, as you marvel.
“You’ve really grown!”
His ears wiggle, the peek of his teeth as he smiles.
Not bigger, but certainly more confident. A sweetness shining, more certain of the steps he takes. A tightness in your chest, as he shows it to Mando - clutched tight in his fist.
“That’s right.” He replies patiently, “Tell her ‘thank you’, Grogu.”
Grogu makes a sound that could pass as a thanks, making his way to the rock border of the small garden.
Leaving you looking up at the Mandalorian. The angle doing something to you - all that shining armor. You on your knees.
His head, still tilting down. Cocked, your way.
But then, you’re remembering why you’re there. Pushing yourself to your feet, burning with embarrassment.
“Uh, right. The details.” You rush, turning away. Back towards the border of the property, your finger pointing, “The hot springs runs through your back yard and mine. Some huts are lucky enough to have their own.”
A shrug, as you turn back, “But most have to share. It’s great this time of year, it gets chilly at night. He’ll love it.”
Your head tilts towards Grogu, still munching away. Mando nods, slowly walking over to stand beside you, looking out at the natural springs. The thick trees above, making a sort of barrier to the huts behind it.
“Oh, and your house.”
The last detail.
“They’re built so you can add on. It’s a good size for one right now. But if you need more space there’s room on the sides, or add another floor.” You gesture to the spots, so he can picture the expansion.
“Should be pretty easy. You would just tell me or Karga, and there’s a couple droids that have it down to a science.”
His head tilting to look where you point. A beat, before he asks, “Have you added onto yours?”
Your eyes meet his visor, surprised.
Lips pressing together as you think about it, your head shaking. Smiling sheepishly.
“No. Like I said… it’s uh, good for one.”
He hums at that, but doesn’t ask anything else. Nor does he look away, his hands resting on his hips.
A dozen questions on the tip of your tongue. Holding them back because you’re not sure how to ask them. Not wanting the answer to be different from what you’re hoping.
So instead, you just smile.
“The last step is usually a tour, but I’m sure we can skip that part. Wouldn’t want to take up any more of your time.”
There’s a beat, while he seems to think about it. A hesitance, before he nods.
“Right. Thank you, we should be fine.”
Almost a reluctance.
But you’re certain you’re imagining it.
———
It’s lucky that he didn’t take you up on the tour. You barely make the walk back to your house before your comm is beeping - an emergency that has you running back into town.
A no-show from a contractor, for a job that needed to be done today. The afternoon is spent with your sleeves rolled up, helping out yourself, the work bleeding into the evening.
The morning becoming a blur, as you drag yourself home. Just thinking about sinking into the springs for a couple minutes, resting your aching feet.
Grabbing a ration bar as you change into one of your suits, your robe and a towel thrown over your shoulder. Leaving the door open, letting the cool night air into your house as you head towards the back.
Your things dumped on a low wooden bench, as you stretch - arms high above you head. A low, throaty groan as you step into the hot water, finding your favorite nook to rest in.
It’s only then, in the water with the skies above, that you think about the Mandalorian. A thrill at seeing him again, even if it didn’t go anywhere.
With his line of work, you can’t pretend you weren’t worried. Hadn’t been thinking about him, hoping he and his son were alright.
Hoping for other things, as well.
When your eyes finally open - you freeze.
The object of your affections sitting a few yards away from you, supplies spread out on the stone table. In the middle of cleaning a long rifle, a piece of cloth in his hands.
Seemingly frozen as well, his helmet tipped your way. The moment stretching out, until you’re letting out a little “oh”, dipping down into the water.
“Sorry,” You give him a little wave - unsure what else to do, “Didn’t see you out here.”
Moving closer to the edge, your hands bracing on the raised lip, “I can go. Long day, just needed a minute.”
“No.” He shifts then, a gloved hand going flat, “Please, stay.”
You’re pleased. To continue soaking, and to continue taking him in. Your chin resting on the curl of your fingers, watching him work.
It’s quiet - the rustle of the leaves above. A chirp of the crickets, the summer days starting to tip into autumn.
“What happened today?” Mando asks you, your head lifting.
Frowning - the question loaded. Did he mean earlier? Like, when you first rounded the corner into his backyard?
He takes pity on you, “You said today was long.”
“Mmm.” You sigh, now understanding. Biting back a smile, pleased that he’s asking about you, “I guess it wasn’t too bad. Just putting out a few fires for Karga.”
He hums, like he understands your implication.
But then, you’re remembering that he’s friends with him. Your nose crinkles, “Not that I am complaining. He’s done a lot for this city, we’re all grateful.”
“You can be honest with me.” His tone sounds amused, and you relax.
The tools set down, as he moves closer. The slow creak of his armor, the overhead lights glinting as he lower himself to one of the chairs that rest close to the edge.
Close enough that he could step into the water, the steam that rises up in the chilly evening air. His helmet tipping down to where you sit.
Your eyebrow lifts, “You thinking about coming in? I can close my eyes for you.”
Remembering what he said, before. The reason why he stayed wrapped in his armor, his helmet always firmly fixed in place.
His head tilts, considering. A long moment - as you hope - before he answers.
“Not tonight.”
The disappointment pools in your belly - but you move on quickly as he asks, “How long have you been working for him? I didn’t see you at the school.”
He had looked. That moment when he walked through town - later, when they ran into the pirates. A worry, fueling him to act when they had threatened to take that drink in the renovated building, where the old saloon used to dwell.
The disappointment melts into fondness, “A while. Close to a year? It’s fun, he can just be a lot, you know?”
He makes a sound of agreement, knowing full well.
“Very convincing and influential. I find myself doing all kinds of stuff just because he asks,” You laugh, your chin cupped in your hand, “He’s got his eyes on some big prizes. High Magistrate. Mining and trade routes.”
Your gaze drifts, going far away, “It’s great for the city. The expansion, all the money coming in. He loves it. The job, the finery of it all. But, personally… I’m not sure it’s what I want.”
The words trail off, as you get lost.
“What do you want?” His voice brings you back.
You blink, looking up at him, “I just want a place to call my own. Something just for me.”
Head tilting towards you little hut, as you start to feel a little self-conscious, “I’m sure that sounds stupid.”
His helmet stays focused on you, as he answers.
“No. I think I understand.”
———
When it came to this hut, he had floundered. Finding himself agreeing, even though he knew he’d be gone again in days. Now, there’s a question that lingers. Heavy on his mind and heart as the hours bleed into the next.
But this time, he knows what he wants. When the question comes, he’ll have the answer.
The next evening, he’s waiting for you.
Surprising you, seeing him in just the flightsuit, as you exit your hut. Pausing mid-step when you see how he lingers. Self-conscious now, in his own way.
Your question comes, again.
“You coming in?”
This time, he nods. Fingers lingering at the zipper on his chest - the anticipation curling in your stomach as you watch.
His hands going still. Wanting this, but the sting of his betrayal to the creed is still a fresh, aching wound. Letting someone see his face. Even though it was the only way.
You head inclines towards a spot in the back of the springs. Where the trees are thick, blocking out the twinkling stars above.
“I can wait there.” You tell him, “I won’t look.”
It’s the last assurance he needs.
He nods.
Making you way to the back, sinking down into the springs. Nervous and excited and thrilled, as you find the spot - where he joins you soon after.
Helmet still on, you can hear the buzz of his groan as the hot water hits his skin. Easing the aches in his back, from the hours of flying.
It’s a little narrow for two, but you fit together - facing each other, under the trees. Where the night and the shadow of the branches weave together - until you can only see the soft, loose outline of his shape.
You can’t believe he got in. Fingers itching to reach out and touch - but you hold back. Still not knowing how he feels, if he wants the same thing as you.
Instead, you fill the silence with soft questions. About him this time - where he’s been, what’s happened since you last saw him.
Some of the tension easing.
And slowly, he tells you. How they became separated. How he had gotten him back, only for the reunion to be cut short. Never saying how the absence effected him - but after seeing their bond today, you knew it had to be hard.
Finally, about their reunion.
With each story, each confession - you find yourselves moving closer. Inching along the natural stone seating until the feet of space dwindle down to mere inches between you.
You wonder if he can hear your heart. The way it thuds in your chest, as his knee brushes yours.
It’s quiet now, other than the ripple of water as your leg stretches out - foot resting on the outcropping of rock he sits on.
"I'm not staying long. Just a few days." The rasp of his voice breaks the silence. His leg brushes yours again.
A soft warning. Letting you know that this would be like last time.
But it’s not the same. Not really.
Your lips press together - the peek of your tongue as you wet them, "You'll be back. You just bought a house here."
"Yes.” He acknowledges, “But I don't know when-“
“I don’t mind”. Your own confession comes easily, in the dark. Leg shifting until your foot taps against his thigh, against bare skin, "Stop overthinking things. When was the last time you had some fun?"
There’s a low breath at your question, a buzz through his vocoder.
"Not since I last saw you."
You know he doesn't mean yesterday. The tickle in your stomach turns into full-on butterflies as your fingers drift - bridging the small gap between you. Finding his on the stone.
Fingertips dragging across knuckles, the back of his hand. Against smooth, bare skin. Before he moves - his hand curling around your wrist, tugging you forward.
A startled yelp as he hauls you into his lap, your thighs bracketing his - shins pressing into the bench beneath you.
Hands steadying themselves on his broad shoulders. His own slowly sliding over your thighs, up to your hips. Fingers kneading soft flesh as you shift, fitting yourself snug against him.
Feeling him.
The clothed, thick curve that’s pressing against your core. A soft sound in your throat as you rock your hips unconsciously against his cock, finally putting pressure on the spot that has been aching for him.
“Maybe you can remind me how.” He rasps, his own hips tilting up, grinding.
Your laugh is strangled as you meet him. Relief in many more ways than one as you brace your hands on his shoulders. Moving more purposely this time as you roll your hips.
Finding the spot that makes you shudder, nails sinking into his skin. His own hands grasping at you, the sharp hiss of breath through his helmet.
It’s too dark to see more than outlines, but you still find his visor. Trying to imagine where his eyes would be, before yours drop down - admiring the rare glimpse of his neck.
His shoulders, broad and strong. Fingers touching features you can’t make out - the coarse, peppered-grey curls on his chest. Decades of scars, each with a story. His form slightly softened by age, but still moving you effortlessly.
The grip on your hips loosen, a hand drifting up. Leaving droplets of water on your skin as his fingers skim your waist, then higher.
A knuckle brushing your breast, over the top of your suit. Teasing at the edge.
“Gods, yes.” You sigh, leaning back to give him room.
To watch him tug the cloth to the side, then down. Baring a breast, and then the other. Fingers dipping down to the water, dragging a wet thumb over the pebbled peak.
You’re clenching, your pace picking up. Leaning into his touch, grinding your pussy against him.
That low voice of his, encouraging you, “Keep riding me, mesh’la. Fuck, just like that.”
It makes you shudder. Pleasure coils in your head, the build-up making your thoughts hazy. So close to what you need, but not quite enough.
A frustrated whine slides through your teeth, your eyes lifting to his. A hand letting go to dip down, between your thighs - but he catches it with his own.
Bringing it back up to his shoulder, before his dips below the waistband. To where you’re wet, slick with arousal. Whimpering when his fingers circle your clit, making you mindless. Prone to babble, the words hushed in the quiet night.
“Stars, I missed you. Feel just as good as I remember.”
A beat, where his fingers linger. Just for a second, before he’s shifting beneath you - increasing the sweet pressure.
“You thought about this?”
Your eyelids flutter closed, your chest crushed against his. Feeling the slick slide of his fingers, exactly the touch you needed.
“Mhm. All the time.” The confession come easy, drunk as you are on pleasure, “How hard you made me come, how fucking good you are with your fingers.”
The praise sinks into his skin, smoothing over the thin cracks of insecurity. He had thought of you, too. Often.
Fucking his fist to the memory, so like the way your hand worked between your own thighs at night.
Just a night but it had felt like so much more. A connection.
He has you close. It almost feels like time is ticking down, each press of his fingers bringing you towards the end. An arm wraps around you, pinning you against him as you gasp.
More praise falling, just for him.
“Oh, you’re going to make me come. Just like that, please-”
His breath harsh as he concentrates, as your face buried into his neck. Muffling your cry as you’re brought over that edge, going stiff in his arms.
Gasping against his skin, as he coos in your ear. The words muted through the haze, buzzing against your skin. Finding bliss, in this dark corner of the springs.
A long moment of silence, as you find your limbs again.
“Did you mean what you said?” He asks, as your cheek presses against his helmet.
Cool against your hot skin, a soft sigh as you relax against him. Embarrassed, now your head is a little more clear, “What, that I fantasized about you?”
Mando makes a sound, a low laugh, “When you said you’d close your eyes. Did you mean that?”
Your head tilts back, so you can see him. Where his face would be, your palms skimming down his arms, “Yeah, I meant that.”
He stands then, taking you with him - your legs still hooked around his waist. Walking you to the side of the springs before your feet touch down, fingers curling around your wrist - tugging them up until your hand covers your eyes.
“Is your house the same as mine?”
Helping you out of the pool as you answer, his hand around your other wrist, “Mirrored.”
Guiding you to the back door, taking a second in the dark to wipe you both down with the towels you left.
Before he’s pulling you deeper, through the kitchen. Back to your bedroom. It’s still dark when your back is pressing against the matress, his hips between your thighs.
The light is low here. A string of ambient bulbs twinkling above your bed, casting the room in a soft glow. He pauses, as you shift below him.
Looking debauched, where you lay against the mattress. Bare legs, you core just covered by the cloth bottoms. The peek of flushed, tight nipples where he has tugged your top aside.
Practically begging for his mouth, the brush of his tongue.
He had been planning to take you in the darkness. Now, he can’t bear the thought of not being able to watch you fall apart with his own eyes.
“Can I blindfold you?” He husks, fingers trailing up your thighs.
You don’t know why he’s asking, but you agree, “Sure. If that’s what you want.”
“Yes.” The tips changing course, tracing the cut of your swimsuit, along the inside of your thigh, “Do you have something I could use?”
Already, the lack of sight has you on edge in the best way - your legs inching further apart. The hand not covering your eyes reaching up - searching beneath the nest of pillows.
Fingers catching on the elastic of the sleeping mask, as you tug it down. Another gift that Karga had discarded, one that found its way into your pocket, along with the matching silk robe, the jar of bath oils.
He helps you fit it into place, his thumb smoothing over your cheek - as your sight dissolves into true darkness.
Gasping, as he tugs at the ties of your top - baring you. A pneumatic hiss that you don’t recognize - ears straining as something heavy is set down on the side table.
The wet swipe of a tongue against the curve of your breast, flattening over your nipple. Wrapping around to suck, teeth just barely scraping the sensitive bud.
“Fuck.” You hiss, reaching for him. Grasping strong shoulders that hover over you, as his knuckles trap the other, gently pinching.
His helmet. He took it off, for you.
The weight of his actions crash into you, a tightness in your chest that has you gasping. His groan sounding pretty as presses an open-mouth kiss against your sternum, the sound unfiltered.
Another, as he moves down.
“Wanted to fuck you in the hot springs,” Fingers catch on the waistband of your suit bottoms, your hips lifting as he pulls them down, “Tug these off of you, just like this. Would you have let me?”
You moan, unable to help it - your answer eager, “Yes. Anything you want.”
He hums in approval - broad hands nudging under your thighs, another tug as he pulls you towards the edge of your bed.
Even with the mask your eyes close, a thrill of excitement as you wait for the press of his cock. Aching for him to fill you, your mind taking you back to last time.
How he had sunk into you. The sweet stretch until the cool armor on his thighs pressed against your skin from behind.
“But there’s something else I wanted more.” His voice breaks into your thoughts, bringing you back.
And it’s not his cock that kisses your cunt. It’s his lips, pressed against the slick, swollen flesh. Your hips flex as you whimper, his hand sliding to press against your stomach.
Pinning you down, as he groans against your pussy. Tongue pointing to flick against your clit before he pulls back. The scratch of facial hair against your thigh as he presses a kiss there.
“Thought about you, too. Dreamed about tasting your sweet little cunt. Making you come on my tongue.”
His mouth following his words, warm where the rest against your skin. Taking his time as he spreads you open with his fingers. Tongue tracing from the tight bud of your clit, down.
Pressing the tip into you. Tasting your release, your slick arousal, as you reach for him. Fingers sinking into soft curls - another realization, another small detail about him that you tuck inside your heart.
You tug on them as he sighs against you, fucking you with his tongue. Slipping back up to wrap his lips around your clit and suck, while his fingers nudge at you.
Sinking the tip of one inside, teasing. Knuckles deep in your greedy cunt - first one, and then another. A low hum against your slit as you whine. Fingers crooking against the spongey spot that had you keening last time.
The combination is too much. Senses heightened to an extreme - each messy flick and press of his tongue sending sparks down your spine to collect and pool low in your belly.
Hearing each and every groan he makes, the rough timbre of his voice. Your own moans joining his, twisting around each other like your fingers in his curls.
The words panted out, achingly desperate.
“Oh, fuck-”
“Please, right there-”
Each breath shorter than the last. Your hands scrambling, leaving his locks to grip onto the pillow, as your hips flex against his mouth.
His fingers pounding steadily against a spot that makes you see stars. Chin and lips smeared with your slick as he coaxes you over the edge.
“Osik. I can feel you clenching around my fingers, mesh’la.” He groans, eyes fixed on where you take him, the silky shine of his fingers.
Flicking up to your face - wanting to watch you fall apart for him with his own eyes, “Want you to come for me, want to feel you gush on my fingers.”
And with a gasp, you do.
Your senses fading to a buzzing, white noise as your hips lift off the bed. Coming hard, pulsing around thick fingers as he watches, tilting his head to press his tongue against your clit. Feeling you there, each little thud where he’s pressed flat against you.
Leaving you gasping, loose-limbed. The sound turning warm and happy with the elation that spreads, settling over your limbs.
His hand swipes across his chin, as he pushes himself up. Arms wrapping under your thighs again, scooting you back onto the bed.
Achingly hard as he peels off the bottoms he still wears. Slick-stained fingers wrapping around his cock, the rough groan of relief as he jerks from base to flushed tip.
More than pleased by the way he has you smiling. Contented and floating, just from his fingers - the inexperienced swipe of his tongue.
He’d learn, for you. Let your fingers twist in his hair, tug him to the right spot until it’s all that he knows.
For now, he soaks you in. His knees pressing into the bed, hoisting your thighs over them. Angling his cock down, to tap against your pussy - a string of your slick clinging to the tip.
“Fuck, just look at you.”
Feeling it’s wet heat, the way you’re arching into him already. Eyes greedy as he presses into you, watching the tip sink in.
How the tight grip of your cunt chokes him - inching in further, before he’s retreating. Pulling back, sliding the soaked tip across your folds again.
Your teeth grit, your hands searching for him. Curling around his wrists, as his hands hold your hips in place.
“Mando, please. Don’t tease me.”
He sucks in a breath through clenched teeth. Tonight, you’re his. Days of uncertainty - wondering if you had thought of him the way he did of you, culminating in this moment of desire that burns through him.
Not wanting to hear the name that follows him like a shadow.
“Din.” He grits out. Something tight in his chest loosening, “My name. It’s Din Djarin.”
Your lips wrap around the gift, making him throb when you parrot it back to him. That need making itself known, as he sinks into you again.
“Want you to stay it when you come.” His hands yank your hips, as his snap forward. Seating himself fully as you moan - as he buries his cock in you.
Din’s voice sounding tight, as he adds, “You got that?”
“Yes, Din.” You sigh dreamily, clenching around him as he moans.
Letting him set a rhythm that starts slow - lets you feel each inch as he drags himself out, before snapping in. Picking up as you cling to him, shifting until your legs are wrapping around his waist.
Hovering over you, tucking you beneath him as his hips snap against yours. Your hands wandering - sliding across his shoulders. Thumbs sweeping over the hollow of his throat, down through the coarse hair across his chest.
So much skin, bared for you to touch. You want to know every inch. Wish you could see - but you’re not that greedy. Happy to take this reunion for every ounce that it was.
But he leans into it. The warmth of your hand, the way your thighs wrap around him. That stiff hold of his shoulder and back loosening, as he lowers himself further.
Unable to resist the urge to see what it’s like. To press his lips against your cheek, feeling the bite of your fingernails when you sigh in surprise.
The whimper as he moves closer to your mouth, until his lips are ghosting over yours. Your head tilting up to chase him in the dark.
His name, once again.
“Din.”
There’s a snarl that rises in this chest. Muffled by the time it reaches to his throat, as his lips finally press against yours.
Starting slow, like the rut of his hips. Just a soft brush, before he draws back for a breath. Coming back for another, as you sigh and arch into him. Lips parting as his tongue brushes the seam, his hand slipping up to cup the back of your head.
He tastes like you. The sweet tang of your pussy on his tongue. Delving into your mouth as he fucks you, as you can do little more than just cling to him.
Soft moans and the needy press of your mouths layering with the wet sound of your joining. The angle stroking his cock against the spot that his fingers found, stealing your thoughts.
Not even realizing it’s your own voice, the panting “please, please-”. Each breath after a soft “oh” that gets sharper, higher, with each gasp.
“Fuck, that’s it.” The voice in your ear sends a thrill down your spine. Joining that familiar fire that pools in your belly, “You’re taking me so well. Are you going to come for me again?”
His lips press against your throat, where your heart flutters. Feeling the bitten-back whine, as your legs clench around him.
Bracing yourself for the pleasure that’s about to tear through you, the spark that starts down low before it races down your limbs.
“Give me one more, cyar’ika.” He rasps, and you can’t help but obey.
That strung-tight string snaps. His name a sob on your lips as the orgasm crashes over you. A pleased hum against your skin as his thrusts snap harder - the rhythm sloppy as you tremble in his embrace.
Din’s breath is hot against your neck, his forehead pressed to your cheek. Feeling the tight clench of your wet cunt around his cock - his fingers biting into your hip as he seeks his own end.
“Where do you want me?” He grits out, “I’m not going to last, feel so good-”
Your legs tighten around his hips, pushing him deeper. Fingers lacing around his neck, the tip of one finding his curls again.
“Come in me.” You beg - hearing his rough groan at your words, “Still have the implant.”
“Fuck.”
He had felt it, last time. You had guided his fingers to the ridge beneath your skin, in that moment where you waited with baited breath for his cock to fill you.
Emptying himself the first time from behind, bent over some crates in the hull. The second, hours later. On your back, like this - but he had been armored then, your bare skin reflecting off the beskar as he stood between your thighs.
But now, your limbs are tangled. The heel of a foot pressed against his ass, his body rolling against yours. The messy press of his mouth against your skin.
A hiss, as he inhales.
Hands gripping onto you, as that breath is released in a rough groan, your own name on his lips. A sharp thrust as he buries himself deep, a shallow rock of his hips with each flex of his cock as he spills into you. The warmth flooding your walls, as he moves until you’ve taken all of him.
Until the aching, burning need is extinguished - as he relaxes like you did. Your nails scratching up his back and into his hair, a rumble of contentment as he shifts onto his side, and then back, pulling you with him.
Reaching down with one hand to pull the plug of the lights from the wall, blanketing the room in darkness. Fingers gentle as he lifts the mask. The brush of his lips against your eyelids.
Your cheek pressing against his chest, as his fingers trace patterns on your skin.
“I’m really happy I got to see you.” You yawn - blissfully limp, as you curl against him, “Even if you have to go.”
Sighing, as you arm drapes across his waist, “I’ll keep an eye on things until you come home.”
Home.
He can't pretend he hasn't already thought about it. What you had told him earlier, about these huts.
How the structures could change, evolve.
Spanning the space between your properties - expanding the walls and connecting hallways until the two houses become one. Truly a haven, a place where he could see himself growing old.
Not now, but... maybe someday.
Once this final quest was completed. Once he was redeemed. A true Mandalorian, once more.
But, that would be some time away. He has no idea what he will find on Mandalore. How long it will take to find Sundari, uncover the mines. It was no use to dwell on that future, when everything was uncertain.
So, instead… he finds himself silently hoping that the Anzellans will take just a little while longer.
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Thanks for reading! Would love to know what you think 💖
mesh’la - beautiful / osik - shit / cyar’ika - sweetheart
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Text
What is Broken!Aemond NSFW Alphabet
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All of this applies specifically to the Aemond that is featured in my series What is Broken. Therefore, he is only discussed in his relationship with his wife (Wifey) and Alys. I'm going to do my best to not unintentionally spoil anything.
This may be the first NSFW alphabet to make people both horny and angry...
A= Aftercare (what they’re like after the act)
With Wifey, Aemond is an aftercare king. He showers her with praises, kissing every inch of her face while he holds her tight against his chest. He'll help her clean up then fall asleep with her in his arms, still murmuring praise in her ear.
With Alys, there isn't a lot of aftercare. He either gets up and leaves with a curt "thank you," or just roll over and tries to sleep. Every time he sleeps with Alys, he is flooded with a guilt that basically immobilizes him for about half an hour. Sometimes he cries, and sometimes he gets so mad at himself that he calls Alys back and fucks away his frustrations until he's so tired he passes out as soon as he cums.
B= Body part (favorite body part their own or their lovers)
Aemond has two favorite parts of Wifey. First, he loves her eyes. The same deep brown as Alicent's, he feels like it makes her softer and warmer somehow. Second, he loves her hands. He's always held her hand, since before they became romantically involved. Now, her hands do so many other wonderful things.
His favorite part of Alys (other than her big titty goth gf titties) is how little she looks like Wifey. It helps him not think about what he's doing to her while he's with Alys.
His favorite part of himself is his lips. There is very little he likes better than worshiping Wifey with his mouth, kissing every inch of her he can.
C= Cum (anything that has to do with it)
Always inside, whether its a mouth or a cunt. When he's close, his brain just shuts down, so he never has the forethought to cum anywhere else.
D= Dirty secret (Pretty self explanatory)
I mean... Alys.
But other than that, he did used to go a little further with Wifey than he technically should have before they got married (see here for an example).
E= Experience (do they know what they’re doing)
Before Alys, he had like two or three techniques down pat, and not much beyond that. If Alys did anything positive, she at least taught him a little bit more.
F= Favorite position
With Wifey, missionary. He wants to be able to see her face and kiss her. Plus, he loves how it makes him feel like he's protecting her, surrounding her.
With Alys, he likes anything where he doesn't have to look directly at her face.
G= Goofy (how serious are they)
1,000,000% serious.
H= Hair (grooming habits)
He doesn't trim the silver bush, but he keeps it clean.
I= Intimacy (in the moment romantic or rough/dirty)
Almost sickeningly romantic with Wifey. Fully rough with Alys - there's no love there, just sex.
J= Jack off (do they masturbate and how often)
Before he and Wifey got married, he had to take care of himself pretty often. But after, he could just go to her whenever he was in the mood and she'd be happy to help. Up until she started getting really sick at the start of her pregnancy, she never refused him.
After he started things with Alys, it was basically the same thing.
K= Kink (kinks what they like possibly unusual)
Wants to fuck Wifey while on dragonback, but she's never agreed to it.
Nothing with Alys, its straight to the point.
L= Location (where they like to get it on)
With Wifey, he prefers their bed. He's also enjoyed it on their couch, on the rug in front of the fire, and in the bath. They once, and only once did the deed outside their rooms - in a dark alcove in the hall right after they got married. They simply couldn't wait for the official bedding.
But he'll fuck Alys wherever. He always makes sure they're alone, but he's never patient enough to wait until they're in a specific place before taking her.
M= Motivation (things that makes them tick/turn ons)
Literally anything Wifey does has the potential to set him off. He's just horny for her 24/7.
With Alys, it's not really anything about her, but rather himself. Any time his emotions are high, he's ready.
N= No (turnoffs or absolutely won’t do)
There's nothing he wouldn't do if Wifey asked him to.
He always refused to kiss Alys.
O= Oral (receiving or giving and how skillful they are)
Could live off eating Wifey's pussy, tbh. He's sloppy and overeager, but it works for her. He was hesitant to let her blow him, as he thought it might feel demeaning, but when she begged, he folded instantly.
Asked Alys for it, but never returned the favor.
P= Pace (how fast they are and how long they last in bed)
He's usually slow with Wifey until he's close, then he jackhammers a bit.
Since there's no romance with Alys, he goes as fast as he can.
Q= Quickie (do they prefer fast and hard)
He's tried quickies with Wifey before, but he gets caught up in the moment and slows down so he can take his time.
Every encounter with Alys is a quickie.
R= Risk (do they like to try new things)
If Wifey asked him? Absolutely.
Alys proposed a few new things, but he refused.
S= Stamina (how many times they can go and how long each round lasts)
With Wifey, he lasts pretty long because he specifically paces himself to go as long as possible. He doesn't really know how many rounds he could go, because Wifey always gets tired before he does.
For Alys, he only does more than one round if he gets frustrated again.
T= Toys (are they game for using sex toys on themselves or lovers)
Nope.
U= Unfair (how do they tease or do they enjoy suspense themselves)
Enjoys riling Wifey up, but he usually gives in before she does.
Doesn't tease Alys, and got so mad when she tried to tease him that she never tried it again.
V= Volume (are they loud, what sounds, and do they talk)
Praise, moans, whimpers, and florid declarations of love are the standard with Wifey.
With Alys he's either entirely silent or he growls and rants the whole time about whatever got his emotions going.
W= Wild card (random canon of any sort)
Once fell asleep while he was going down on Wifey because he felt so warm and safe between her thighs.
X= X-ray (what’s down below in dem pants)
A real beauty, his cock. Long enough to reach all the right places and girthy enough to give that perfect stretch.
Y= Yearning (sexdrive level)
He's 20, it's high.
Z= Zzzz (do they sleep after if so how quickly after)
He never falls asleep before Wifey. He want to make sure she has everything she needs first. So he only tries to sleep after she's already sleeping.
With Alys, he's either kept up by his guilt or so exhausted he falls asleep immediately.
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Dazai NSWF Alphabet
Gender Neutral Reader
Word Count: 1.8k
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A = Aftercare (How do they treat you after doing it?)
He offers fairly decent aftercare. Most of the time, he takes you to the bathroom to shower or have a hot bath with him. Afterward, he would help you wash the sheets if you guys made a mess on them (very likely) and would cuddle with you. If you aren't too tired, he'll offer you some food or drinks and watch a movie or a TV series, but most of the times he'd just fall asleep with you by his side. If he is exhausted though, he'd just cuddle with you to sleep right away.
B = Body Part (What is their favorite body part and their favorite body part of their partner?)
If you were to ask him what his favorite body part is, he'd have a hard time answering. He doesn't like himself very much, hence the reason why he covers himself in so many bandages. But I do think he does likes some of his features, like his hair or his hands and fingers.
As for you, he loves every part of you, but he especially likes your thighs and your chest (big or small, doesn't matter to him). It's so comforting to cuddle with you while his head is pressed against your chest or in between your thighs. He also loves having your thighs around his head while giving you head or having a hand over your chest.
C = Cum (Anything to do with it. 🤭)
I think he comes an average amount. It's pretty liquid-ish, yet slimy, and has a white but almost clear, colored sperma. It has a slightly sour taste, but for the most part, it barely tastes anything or just has a faint taste of what he ate a while ago.
He likes coming on any part of you. He likes to come in your mouth and watch you swallow or see his seed drip down your chin. He loves seeing you covered in it literally anywhere, especially your chest. But where he loves to come the most is inside you.
D = Dirty Secret (Do they have one?)
He has a thing for your used underwear. He'd steal your it after having sex with you to use for masturbation material later. You'd complain at first, especially if he steals some of your nicest pieces of lingerie, but if you behave nicely, he'd return them a week later (because he wants fresh ones).
E = Experience (How many times have they done the deed in the past? Are they good?)
In my opinion, he's rather experienced. I think he has had hook-ups frequently before, but that was before getting into a serious relationship. Now that he has you, sex is much more special for him than it was before. Of course, he's pretty skilled, and he definitely knows what he's doing. He'd prioritize your pleasure, for sure, and he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make you feel amazing.
F = Favorite Position (Self-explanatory)
The most intimate positions for him would be some version of missionary or cow girl. As long as he can see your beautiful face and your reactions, he'd be satisfied. Eye contact during sex is important to him. He thinks it's a very special moment he's sharing with you and wants to be connected in any way he can with you. But between missionary and cow girl, he prefers cow girl best. It's because your body is in right in front of him to admire and touch. He loves leaning down on your bed and watching you struggle to keep your composure on his dick. Of course, he helps you ride him, but it's just so fun watching you try to do it yourself from time to time. Oh, and he'd probably be down to 69 once in a while.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious during the act, or do they like to crack jokes?)
He can definitely be very serious and in the moment when he needs to, but he can't go a session without making you laugh at least once. He cracks small jokes that make you giggle, mostly in between rounds.
You'd be huffing and puffing, trying to catch your breath as sweat covers your face, and then he makes some dumb out-of-pocket remark that you can't help but chuckle.
H = Hair (Do the carpets match the drapes? How well groomed are they?)
Well, he has brown hair, so the carpet matching the drapes is a given. I do believe that he is quite well groomed and trims it down once every month or two.
I = Intimacy (How romantic are they during the moment?)
He can get pretty sweet and romantic during the act. He'd do anything for you, and he wants you to feel comfortable every step of the way, so he is very intimate since the moment calls for it.
J = Jack off (How often do they do it?)
In the past, this was a more frequent habit of his, but now that he's got you, he doesn't do it as often. If he does, however, he's always thinking about you or uses your stolen underwear to help himself (reference to D 🤭).
K = Kink (What kind of kinks and fetishes have they got?)
I'd say he's got a normal set of kinks (besides the underwear one 😇). He likes being praised, definitely. He likes watching you slowly take your clothes off and then proceed to strip him out of his. He also loves to see you wearing his own clothes. The thought of you in his shirt is enough to send him over the edge. He either finds it very cute or very hot, and there's no in between. He also loves it when you attempt to dominate him. It's so adorable looking at you try your best, but if you do succeed, it's still pretty hot to see you act this way.
L = Location (Where do they like to do it?)
Contrary to popular belief, I don't see him as big of an exhibitionist as many people on here say he is. I think he prefers keeping it in the bedroom. It is a very intimate moment that you get to share, and he doesn't want others to see it. The only public place he'd do it at is probably a closet room or some bathroom, and it's still somewhat private. He would only do that if he really needed to, and it would always be a quickie.
M = Motivation (What turns them on?)
As I've said, he loves seeing you wearing his clothes or a sexy pair of lingerie. He can also get pretty riled up whenever you make some sort of sexual remark. Sometimes, he just wakes up, and you're right next to him, smiling, with your eyes looking at his. How could he possibly resist you?
N = NO (What things do they refuse to do?)
He absolutely hates being degraded. I will die on that hill. He's already got low self-esteem, so why would he want you to 'reaffirm' it. He also hates being referred to as 'daddy'. It makes him feel so uncomfortable. Like, he's not your father, is he? And also piss kink. Need I say more? He is probably willing to try anything else besides those three things.
O = Oral (Do they prefer giving or receiving? How good are they?)
He loves receiving head from you, and he also likes to return the favor. It gives him such an ego boost seeing you feeling so good because of him. It honestly makes his heart flutter. He's rather good at it, too. His tongue combined with his fingers do wonders, for sure. But as for receiving, you don't disappoint him either. He just adores the sight of you on your knees, taking him in. It honestly makes him so happy that you are willing to do that to pleasure him. It's so nice of you.
P = Pace (How quick do they go?)
This one really depends on the situation. At times, he can be soft, gentle, and passionate, but he's no stranger to going quickly. He'll mostly be considerate of your desires.
Q = Quickie (How often do they do quickies, and does he like them?)
He only does them when he doesn't have time, and he needs to quickly relieve himself. I can't see him doing them frequently. He would much rather have a few hours' worth of sex with you.
R = Risk (Are they willing to experiment? How far would they go?)
As I said before, he'll try almost anything, as long as you're up for it. Of course, he doesn't want to do anything that cause harm to you, so any weapon play is out of the question.
S = Stamina (How long can they last?)
He is pretty energetic, I'd say. He can definitely last up to 10 rounds or even more if he's especially horny (is this too pretentious?).
T = Toy (Do they like to incorporate them into your sex life? How often?)
He is, for sure, a huge fan of them. Not only does he like to use them himself, but he mostly enjoys using them on you. After all, he finds it so fun to tease you and overstimulate you.
U = Unfair (Do they tease you a lot?)
Definitely. One of his favorite things to do.
V = Volume (How loud are they in the bedroom?)
Super loud. No doubt. No questions asked. Loves to moan, groan, whine. Loves to shower you with praises and loves to talk dirty to you. You can't make him shut up, honestly. He's pretty much a slut for you. 😊
W = Wild Card (Random headcanon)
He likes making love to you when he feels sad or frustrated. It just calms him down and makes him feel better. It's so kind of you to be by his side and comfort him while also giving him pleasure.
X = X-ray (What do they look like below the waist?)
(I can't believe I'm going to be describing a dick) Ok, so, it's 5.4 inches (13.7 cm) soft and a solid 6 inches (15.2 cm) hard, average girth, slightly curved to the left and a nice sensitive pink tip. He has a few small veins here and there, but none of them are too prominent.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)
I think he has a higher-than-average libido. Either that or he has a lower-than-average one, and there's no in between. I'm honestly leaning towards the former one. He can get easily riled up by small things, such as sitting on his lap, wearing his clothes, etc.
Z = ZZZ... (How quickly do they manage to fall asleep after sex?)
As long as you're by his side, he falls asleep quickly.
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Thank you so much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it, and it didn't seem OOC. As always, you are free to leave me a request.
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bettyfrommars · 10 months
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I'm on Fire//biker!older!Eddie x fem!artist!Reader//Part 11
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18+Only, pls no minors, jealous!Eddie, biker!Steve, possessiveness, mention of violence, alcohol consumption, mention of sex, rich people being rich, celebrity sighting, reader wears a dress and heels (for the sake of this story, please pretend that designers made dresses for all sizes in the 90's), dirty deeds, mention of an abusive relationship, being in love. Word count: 8.4k
Summary: As Eddie falls for you more and more, his jealousy comes to the surface. You have a scare as something reminds you of a bad relationship from your past, and you go out to dinner with a potential client, forcing Eddie to profess his feelings as he struggles with the fear of losing you. Steve is offered a new job opportunity that sounds almost too good to be true.
Series Masterlist
A/N: It's been a long time coming 🙃 I am worried that writing the next chapter might get me pregnant. Your comments/messages about this story mean everything to me, and this story wouldn't even exist without the love you've shown it. Thank you, I love you.
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I'm on Fire Part 11: No Ordinary Love
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Eddie showed up at the Velvet Hammer while you were working that night to make the non-verbal announcement that you were his girl to anyone who might not know it yet, and you took your break so he could fill you in on some of the drama with Steve. He sucked down two cigarettes in the span of 15 minutes, and you could tell that the stress was getting to him.
“Poor Robin,” your eyes glazed over a bit as you stared at the ground, your heart hurting. “She must be a wreck.”
Eddie nodded as he blew smoke to the side. “This isn’t even about Oliver, that greedy bitch just wants more money.”
You searched his face, trying to understand. “You mean, she doesn’t want Oliver in her life?”
Eddie shot the corners of his mouth down in a frown as he flicked ash to the pavement. “Hell no. Steve basically has to pay her off every now and then just so she will leave them alone,” and then Eddie’s eyes narrowed at the empty space in front of him. “No one is taking Oliver away, I can promise you that.”
Eddie stepped back to look you up and down, licking his lips, bucking his chin. “Has anyone tried to hit on you tonight?”
“Eddie…” you sighed and rolled your eyes a little.
“I’m serious,” he finished his cig and threw it to the ground. “I don’t want any of these fuckers thinking they can touch you.”
“Baby,” you wrapped your arms around him and put your head to his chest. “It’s just a job, and no one gets to touch me but you.”
“That’s fucking right,” he murmured, bending his head to kiss you. You still didn’t know that Charlene was the reason you lost the job you loved as a gallery director, and keeping that from you continued to gnaw at him.
He grabbed your chin to force your gaze up to meet his. “I’m dead serious, babe. It’s a respect thing. If anyone crosses a line with you in here, I’ll find out about it, and I’ll break their fucking hand.”
He wasn’t trying to scare you, personally, but his tone was intense, and a drastic change to how he normally spoke to you.
“I know, baby,” you answered in a whisper, suddenly feeling a damp heat between your thighs at his possessiveness over you.
The outfit you were wearing must’ve been turning him on too, because he groaned against your mouth, pulling your hips against his, not caring that the friction shot a ripple of pain into his stab wound.
“You’re gonna make me go back into work all turned on, babe,” you breathed between kisses. You slipped your hands around his ribs under the warmth of his leather.
“Fuck,” he mumbled, fingers digging into your thighs. “I’m about to take you right here. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”
You pulled back to search his face, your brows knitting together. “Yeah, why have we been waiting?”
Eddie picked up the back of your skirt so that his middle finger could rub your slit over your underwear while he palmed your ass and it made you whimper. “I wanted it to be...special, I guess,” he admitted, brushing your lips with his, his finger teasing the soft skin at your underwear line.
“You just got stabbed, baby. I don’t want you to---”
“Shhhhhhh,” he said, rubbing his nose against yours. “It’s not my first stab wound baby, and it won’t be my last.”
“Wait,” you put your hand on his chest. “Is that supposed to comfort me?”
Just then the door to the bar flew open with a bang, like someone had kicked it, Sex on Wheelz by My Life with the Thrill Kill Kult blasting into the alleyway, and Eddie did quick work of moving in front of you, blocking your raised skirt from view while you adjusted yourself, and he was glaring at whoever it was.
Jackie stepped out with a Pall Mall between her lips, and paused to shoot the two of you a curious look, wiggling her brows. “What’s been going on out here, kids? None of that hanky panky, I hope.”
----------
A day later, there was a very familiar hunter green SUV parked outside of your place when you rolled around the corner to park in the driveway after some grocery shopping. It as a fairly popular model, and so you didn’t think much of it until you saw that the plates were from Michigan---the state you’d lived in until a year ago when you finally accepted Katie’s invitation to move in with her.
A freezing cold flush of blood burst through your veins as you sat in your car, afraid to get out.
The fear that your ex-fiance Craig would find you and come knocking on your door one day never left you, but your defenses had been lowering as you got comfortable in Hawkins; maybe you’d gotten too comfortable. Maybe you hadn’t covered your tracks enough and someone from your past had told him where you were.
Everything you’d been through in the past few weeks, and now this? You were actually too petrified to move, thinking maybe it was better to start your car up and drive away. But, if he knew where you lived, you would never be free of him. You’d have to get another restraining order, which never did any good anyway. You might even have to move again.
Tears threatened behind your eyes, as adrenaline pumped through you, but then you glanced up and saw Katie come around the corner of the house with an older woman in a floral pantsuit and a bob of gray hair.
Katie paused, and bent down to give you a questioning look, wondering why you were still sitting in your car, lurking. You watched the gray haired woman walk over to the SUV and unlock it with her key, as a gust of stale air escaped your chest with a hiss.
The hunter green SUV belonged to another teacher from the school, Ms. Olsen, and later on, once you were in the house, you told Katie about your moment of panic.
“God,” she was perched on the arm of the sofa. “You really think that piece of shit would go through that much trouble to find you? And then drive all the way out here?”
“In a heartbeat,” you said, pressing your dry lips together. “But, as far as Craig knows, I moved to Oregon to live near my mom, so Hawkins would be completely off his radar. I hope so, anyway.”
Katie stood up. “Well, thankfully it was just a scare. Holy shit, by the look on your face I thought you caught Eddie with another girl again or something.”
You huffed a heavy breath as you dropped your bag onto the side table. “Yeah, I still have the photos. Maybe we should have them framed or something. To remember the good ol’ times.”
“I’m taking Robin out for happy hour to try and get her mind off of things,” Katie called to you as she opened the refrigerator and bent in to grab a soda. She was on her lunch break and on her way back to the school. “Do you want to come with? Just us girls? Steve has Ollie at the tattoo shop with him.”
You declined the offer only because you still needed to call John Gregson, and you wanted to catch him during office hours.
It took a while to get beeped through to his personal secretary, but when she finally took your call, she told you that Mr. Gregson was out of the office, but that she would get a message to him for you. Her snobby tone gave you the feeling that she was going to throw your message in the trash the second you hung up, but not five minutes later---he called you back.
“Hey there,” he beamed. You could hear him smiling through the phone. “I’m sorry my secretary made you wait. I told her to patch you through to my personal line next time.”
“I’m surprised you even remembered my name,” you were standing at the counter in front of a pad of paper with a pen in your hand just in case you needed to write anything down.
You’d be lying if you said the first few minutes of the conversation were completely innocent and did not dabble in flirtation. Your loyalty to Eddie was deep, but kindling a bit of a friendship with John was a necessary evil for the time being. A couple thousand dollars for a painting and a chance to let Charlene know you had tricks too? Priceless.
While he was letting you know what size canvas he wanted and some prominent color choices, you drifted off a bit, wondering if John knew about Charlene’s affair. Affairs, plural? You did not get the sense that he was at all lacking in cognitive function, and since he was such a successful business man, you assumed he could read people pretty well.
“Are you free for dinner tonight?”
He had to repeat it because your mind had gone rogue.
“Dinner? Tonight?” He continued. “With me.”
You had zero romantic feelings for John—your heart was very much engaged elsewhere---so you could shrug it off as a platonic business deal. But, you also couldn’t help but wonder how your newly christened boyfriend Eddie would feel about it. Appearances aside, he had to understand that, much like the guys you were nice to at the Velvet Hammer---it was just a job. Plus, John was very openly married, and attempting a blatant affair with you wouldn’t be a bright move.
Still, it felt like he was asking you on date.
“I could come to your office tomorrow? I’m free all day.” You offered.
“I won’t be in the office tomorrow, I’m flying to Boston for the rest of the week, but I could pick you up later today around 7:00?” He sounded humble, but at the same time very sure of himself. “You see, there is this new restaurant on the lake with a collection of artwork I’d think you’d enjoy. We could talk about the commission there in a more relaxed setting.”
You swallowed. He was very persuasive, you’d give him that. You knew the exact restaurant he was talking about; Sakura Black was owned by a movie star who had a vacation home in town. It was strictly reservation only and you’d always wanted to see what it was like on the inside. There was a private airport nearby and helicopter pad on the roof for the wealthy elite to pop over from the city for dinner to enjoy “small town life”.
You gnawed at your bottom lip for a few seconds, doodling frantic circles all over the pad of paper with your pen, and then you accepted.
“Well, you just made my day,” John told you.
After you hung up the phone, your hand stayed on the receiver, and you said, “fuck,” under your breath.
--------
“What do you mean he asked you out to dinner? You mean, like a date?” Eddie asked gruffly.
Eddie was in his coveralls with an over sized wrench in his hand with grease smeared across his cheek and thighs. You showed up at the garage about an hour after you’d talked to John, feeling like this was a conversation that needed to happen in person.
He frowned as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the desk in the office. His new part time helper Dana had just left and Wayne was away having one of his chemo treatments. He was leaning away from you, teeth grinding, jaw muscles flexing, as he absorbed the news. He had been damn near giddy when he saw you park and walk over; eagerly pulling your mouth to his as a smile stretched his lips. “Damn, I’ve missed my girl,” he’d murmured as he nuzzled your nose, and then the three other mechanics behind him started whistling and shouting, “get a room!” To which Eddie grabbed your hand and flipped them off.
“It’s not a romantic date, baby. He just wants to talk about this commission I’m going to do for him,” you soothed, giving him space as you rested your shoulder against the green metal door.
“Sure he does,” Eddie chided. But then he sucked his teeth and tried to cool the hot emotions that were bubbling up. “What did you say his name was?”
This was the even trickier part.
You sighed and rubbed your fingers across your forehead before you met his gaze again. “His name is John. John Gregson.”
Eddie snorted and turned on his heel, rubbing his hands down his face. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me, babe. Please tell me you’re joking?” After keeping his back to you for a bit, shoulders tight, he finally turned around to face you and tapped the desk with his knuckle as he spoke. “You know who he is, right? Who he’s married to?”
You nodded as you gazed at the scuffed toes of his boots and the frayed ends of his coveralls where they sat at his laces.
Eddie gave a few slow blinks, spreading his fingers on the desk to brace himself as he leaned. “I don’t feel good about this, babe. I don’t want you alone with this guy.”
You did your best to explain the situation to him, going all the way back to when John purchased some art from an outdoor festival you participated in a few years ago, to how he recognized you at the Velvet Hammer, and then Steve giving you his card to hopefully bring some money your way.
Eddie waited, but his expression of doubt stayed the same. “Listen,” he ran the tip of his tongue over his top lip and came a bit closer to you, crossing his arms again. “I appreciate that you told me. But you don’t know these people, baby. They are rich and they are mean. They don’t care who they hurt, as long as they get what they want at the end of the day. John might seem like a decent dude, but I’d bet money that he’s no different.”
As Eddie said it, he knew there was a lot of his ego involved in trying to talk you out of it. It was his fault you lost the job as a gallery director—a job that you loved---and he wondered if he was being selfish in trying to keep you from whatever amount of money you could get from what’s his name. The last thing he wanted to do was push you away, and if anything could, it would be his jealousy. He was sure it had pushed people away in the past.
Eddie bowed his head, and you moved into his orbit, tugging his crossed arms down so he would lower them and let you in. “I’m fucking filthy, baby,” he said as you put your head to his chest and wrapped your arms around him. He placed his cheek on the top of your head. You nuzzled him, inhaling the scent of car exhaust and motor oil and the earthy soft undertones of his warm skin.
“Oh, god, don’t I know it,” you teased, pinching a handful of his ass.
He barked a low laugh despite himself and tightened his arms around you. “You make me this way.”
You swayed there together for a bit before he huffed out a heavy breath. “So, what time is your date?” He bit out the word ‘date’ so hard, his jaw clicked.
You pushed off of him, exasperated, and slightly offended. “Baby, it’s not a date. He doesn’t mean anything to me, it’s just like a…business thing. You know how much I love---”
But then the rest of it kind of choked in your throat, and you doubted yourself, and you clamped your mouth shut to keep any more from escaping. You didn’t doubt your feelings for him, but you doubted that blurting it out in that moment was the right thing to do.
Both of you were simultaneously paranoid that you’d scare the other one off by being too blunt about your feelings. Why? Because any time you had confessed your feelings to someone in the past, they either ruined your life or left you; there was no happy medium.
“Yeah? You love what?” Eddie waited, searching your face, interlacing his fingers with yours, anticipation burning in his chest.
You started to fidget under his intense gaze, shifting your attention around the room. “I-I love your stupid face.”
He squeezed your hand, and leaned in to press his lips flush against your ear, his warm breath making you shiver. “Ditto, babe.”
--------
Eddie was not smiling when you left the garage. You told him all of the details, including what time you were being picked up, the name of the restaurant (he rolled his eyes), and you told him you’d call the second you got home.
“Or, call me from the restaurant if he gets handsy or some stupid shit,” he added with a frown. “It would be my pleasure to go to jail for bouncing that clown into next week.”
You did all you could to comfort him, but at the end of the day, he was a grown man who needed to understand that you were excited for not only the money, but for the opportunity to be doing what you loved again. You felt like you’d lost your spark lately and you were anxious to get it back.
It was around 4 o’clock when you pulled up to the curb at the chocolate brown duplex with white trim that you shared with Katie. From behind the wheel, you spotted what looked like a big, flat white box with a string tied in a bow at the top. As you got closer, with your keys and bag in your hand, you realized there was a fancy note card on it addressed to you.
You put it on the island in the kitchen and started at it while your tongue slid across your teeth in contemplation. The store on the tag was from a French boutique in Chicago that you had never heard of in your life.
The inside of the card said: “I forgot to ask if you had something casual but elegant for tonight. See you at 7:00 -- J.”
Once you opened the lid of the box and pulled the tissue paper back, you let out a small gasp at the Dolce & Gabbana label staring you in the face. It was simple black dress with red lining, knee length but with a high slit up the leg, strapless, and there was a black choker and heels to match.
You hated to admit it, but perhaps Eddie’s read on John had been a tad on-the-nose.
--------
“Whoa there Julia Roberts,” Katie joked as you walked out to the living room at 6:45, trying to steady yourself on your new heels. “Is Richard Gere picking you up or what?”
Robin was there too and she spun around on the couch to whistle at you. “Good god, woman, Eddie should see you now. He’d blow a gasket.”
Under your breath you responded, “maybe, but not for the reason you’d think.”
Katie rested her hip on the back of the couch and combed her fingers through Robin’s hair as she raised her eyebrow at you. “Where are you going looking like a stick of dynamite? You look too nice for the Hammer.”
You opened your clutch to make sure you had the necessities. “I’m going to dinner with a potential client who wants to commission a painting,” you were withholding the bigger truth because you wanted to avoid getting into a discussion about it. “It’s not a big deal, I should be home in a few hours.”
Robin and Katie exchanged a look.
They did make sure to peak through the blinds when your ride arrived, though, and saw that it wasn’t just any old ride: it was a sleek, black Rolls-Royce, complete with chauffeur, and the man who got out to open the door for you was unarguably handsome and dapper. Salt n’ Pepper hair that was thick and a little wavy on top, tan skin, and what appeared to be an expensive, tailored suit. Once you had slipped into your seat behind the dark tinted windows, the man actually glanced up and caught the two girls watching, to which he gave a charming smile and a wave.
“THAT’S the client she’s going to dinner with?” Katie balked, realizing there was a lot you weren’t telling her. “He looks like Robert fucking Redford.”
“Oh, shit,” Robin whispered, her chin on Katie’s shoulder. “I think I know who that is. I can’t remember his name, but his face is always in the paper. Pretty sure he owns most of this town.”
You braced your hands on the smooth leather seat on either side of your hips as John found his place next to you and offered you a glass of champagne. “Or sparkling water, or gin, if you prefer?”
“Champagne sounds great,” you said with a quiver on your lips. You were too intimidated to admit you’d never been in a Rolls-Royce before, or any car worth its value.
He popped the cork and poured you a glass flute, his eyes covertly flashing to your legs as he worked. “I’m happy to see the dress fit. It looks like it was made for you.”
You cleared your throat as he passed your beverage over. “I’m nervous to spill on it. I think it costs more than my car.”
John smiled against the rim of his glass as he spoke. “If anything happens to it, we’ll just buy you another one,” he assured you with a wink.
----------
Around the same time you found the dress on your porch earlier that day, Steve picked up the phone at the shop after three rings, just before the machine was about to get it. He was in the middle of working on matching ankle tattoos for two sisters, and Oliver was at his special kid-sized plastic desk in the corner scrawling with crayons in a coloring book. Molly, the tattoo artist he rented a chair from was deeply absorbed in getting the lines in for a huge back piece on a client and she begged him to get it while Feel the Pain by Dinosaur Jr played in the background over the buzzing of a tattoo gun.
“Cutthroat Tattoo, this’s Steve,” his voice was a bit gruff, but he didn’t mean for it to be. It had been nonstop all day and the phone was ringing off the hook.
“You’re a hard man to track down,” the confident woman on the other end cooed. “Do you have a second? Is this a bad time?”
“Yeah, it is a bad time. Who’s this?” Steve frowned, running his thumb along the edge of the counter.
“I’m the one who bailed you out of jail,” she answered, with a hint of laughter in her voice.
Steve frowned even harder, walking further away from the customers so that he as at the corner of the desk against the wall. His mind was racing because he didn’t recognize the voice. Was it someone he fucked recently and forgot about? In that case, it was the least he could do to remember her name, but nothing was coming to him.
“Sweetheart, I’d love to thank you properly, but I still have no idea who you are,” he braced his hand high on the wall, his back muscles and tattoos visible under his thin wife beater. “Can I have a clue?”
She continued to ignore his question. “If you’re interested I might have a job for you. It pays well, and it will only be a couple hours out of your day.”
He dropped his hand from the wall and slipped it into his arm pit. “How much is ‘well’?”
She told him it would be a couple grand for a few hours, and he almost said yes before he even asked what the job even was.
“What’s the catch, baby?” He was still under the assumption that this was someone he had carnal knowledge of, and not a complete stranger. “Cause my days of being a high paid assassin are behind me.”
“Oh no, nothing like that,” she purred. “It’s just that I’m going to an event in a couple days and I need to hire a body guard to be my escort.”
Steve scoffed at the simplicity of what she was asking. “That’s all? Sweetheart, I’m your man.”
“I knew you were the right man for the job,” she praised.
“Hey,” he turned to give the woman in his chair a silent wink and thumbs up to let her know he’d be right there. “You still haven’t told me your name. I’m good with faces, darlin’, but voices? Not so much.”
“You can call me Char,” she told him, giving him her phone number. He took the cap off a pen with his teeth and ripped out a page from the phone book to write it down. “Give me a call when you’re done and we can work out the details.”
Char...Char...Steve’s mind raced with who that might be. But, damn all he could think of was how nice it would be to get his hands on that money. They’d been living paycheck to paycheck for a while now, and it would be nice to put a little extra in the bank so he could breathe for a fucking second. Body guard gigs were a piece of cake, and hell, if she wanted to pay him to have sex with her he might even agree to that as well, depending on what she was offering. Now, with Tina sniffing around again, he was on edge every second, and not sure if she really wanted to be in Oliver’s life, in which case he’d need to pay out the ass to hire a lawyer, or if she just wanted to squeeze his balls for more dough.
He couldn’t wait to brag to Eddie how mysterious women were stumbling over themselves to pay his bail and his bills.
--------
John made small talk with you as the driver, who was behind a black tinted partition, maneuvered the car up through the woods toward the lake. You passed a few MC members cruising along with the wind in their faces, and your heart stuck in your throat, hoping one of them were Eddie. Even Steve or Thumper would’ve been a welcome sight in that moment.
John was a gentleman, from what you could tell, and he was doing everything he could to make you comfortable, but you still felt terribly out of place; both in body and soul. To make matters worse, you were already missing Eddie. You realized that you could’ve gone to be with him that night instead, and the weight of your choice made your heart heavy. The song No Ordinary Love by Sade dripped softly from the speaker near your leg and it drowned out John’s voice for a few seconds as you thought about the beautiful, loving man you’d left waiting for you at home.
A magic, purple dusk exploded over the lake, between the trees as John came around to open your door and extend his hand for you to take.
“I don’t think I said it yet,” the side of his mouth lifted in a grin. He smelled like spices and expensive, Italian leather. “But you look absolutely stunning tonight.”
You rolled your shoulders and did the best to put all of your weight on the balls of your feet as you adjusted to the heels. He extended the crook of his arm to you and you took it, feeling like you were on some strange prom date.
Ahead of you was a walkway that led through a Japanese-style garden with a large Koi pond, on the way to a long, wide ranch-style building with gold lanterns dangling from the roof.
Sakura Black was known for it’s Japanese and Asian fusion cuisine. You’d only read about it in magazines, of course, and so it was a treat to see it all up close.
There was tight security from the time your chauffeur let you out at the curb to where you entered the building. A handful of muscular guys whose shoulders looked too big for their suit jackets, and whose necks were wider than their heads, talked to each other through ear pieces with dramatically serious faces, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d think they were with the FBI or Secret Service. John didn’t even have to acknowledge them; they instantly ushered him through because they clearly recognized him.
You knew it was no secret that John was married, and you wondered what people thought your relationship was with him. Did they think you were one of his mistresses? Or was it a regular occurrence for him to bring young women there for dinner to talk over business deals? You honestly had no idea if you looked like a lucky girl or a fool to them.
Inside, the décor was warm tones and sharp edges; industrial design, with a pristine air of perfection and minimalism. You were a bit shocked when you realized that it made you miss the chaotic, clammy, nicotine saturated air of the Velvet Hammer.
The host with the wire rimmed glasses saw you and John coming, and got a bit flustered, before he stole himself for a proper greeting. “Your table is waiting, Mr. Gregson,” he extended his arm, encouraging you both to follow him down three steps to the main dining floor. There were solid windows along the back wall for a view of the lake at dusk, and the place was dimly lit, almost too dim for you to see if there were any celebrities in the crowd as you tried to scan around without moving your head. Soft murmuring voices heard over metal clinking on ceramic as waiters brought flaming dishes out on rolling carts.
John’s table was down close to one of the windows; there were two tealights burning in glass bubbles, and a bottle of red wine at the ready. You slipped free of John’s arm so that the host could pull your chair out for you, and you just so happened to move back two steps too many and you bumped into someone.
You both turned around at the same time to gush your apologies, and that was when you realized that the person you’d just smacked into was, in fact, the actor Richard Gere himself.
--------
Eddie was restless. He took a shower, and then nearly wore a hole in the floor from pacing.
He should’ve told you he didn’t want you to go. He should’ve told you...how he felt about you. God, was it too late? What if you realized that having an affair with with a rich dude was just what you needed? It would take away all of your stress, and you could stop working your ass off at the Velvet Hammer. It would help your art career, and you’d never have to worry about money. Surely, John Gregson was intelligent, well-spoken, successful—the type of man you deserved to be with. Since you met Eddie, your life had fallen into chaos and damn near poverty. In fact, the more he thought about it, what the hell did you even seen in him anyway?
He fully intended to wait by the phone until you called, but the minutes felt like hours, and he decided to take a ride over to Steve’s house for some company. Steve was still at the shop, but Robin had just arrived home after picking up Oliver, and it was a much needed distraction from his intrusive thoughts.
He read Oliver a bedtime story (it was coincidentally also one of his favorites: Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs) while Robin put away the dishes, and then the two adults had a beer out on the patio under dim yellow light where insects tapped and buzzed.
One sip and Robin sat up in her chair, regarding him with wide eyes. “Hold on, I almost forgot to tell you how hot your woman looked tonight. Wowza!”
Eddie’s beer paused halfway to his mouth and his smile dropped.
Robin licked her bottom teeth as she grinned, bending her knee to put her foot on the chair. “She was gorgeous, but also very sophisticated and elegant. Total show-stopper. You would’ve been on your knees.”
Eddie was gripping his beer can so tight, he crushed it a bit, forcing liquid to spurt out of the top.
“Yeah, how long ago was that?” Eddie asked in a mumble.
“How long was what? When I saw your girl? Um, maybe an hour ago. I left right after to pick Ollie up.”
Robin started talking about the whole mess with Tina, and a few minutes in, Eddie got to his feet. “I gotta go, Rob. I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Thanks for the beer.”
“You have to go...right now? Seriously dude?” She balked. But Eddie was already grabbing his leather and taking long strides around the house to where he parked the chopper.
Robin sighed heavily into the mouth of her beer just before taking a few large gulps.
--------
Richard Gere reached out and put his palm on your elbow. “Are you okay? I didn’t meant to bulldoze into you like that.”
You were understandably speechless for a moment, mouth agape, as you looked from his face to the other people at his table. A part of you hoped to see Cindy Crawford there, but then you remembered they’d been divorced for a couple years. There were two other people with him: an older gentleman you did not recognize, and a woman who could’ve very well been a runway model.
You were about to speak when John came up behind you, resting his hand at your lower back. “Richard,” John greeted as they both shook hands. They knew each other? John introduced you. “This is that talented painter I was telling you about. I’m commissioning a piece for our lake house.”
Richard regarded you with invested interested. “A-ha, that’s right. I’d love to see your work. Do you have a card?”
“I don’t have one with me, but I---” you stammered, disbelief clouding your cognitive functions.
John’s hand made circles on your back as he spoke. “I’ll have my secretary send over her information tomorrow,” he told Richard.
Once the two of you were finally scooting into your table, John raised his eyebrow. “Richard’s a good friend, and an avid art collector. He loves finding new talent, that’s why I told him about you.”
Your heart raced as you put your napkin in your lap. Your seat faced the entrance where you’d just come in, and the side of Richard. He turned and winked at you as he put his hand onto the leg of the supermodel next to him.
The menu items didn’t have any prices on them, except for the wine list which had some going for hundreds of dollars. It made you gulp. You could probably live for a month on what these people were paying for one dinner.
“Is it okay if I order for you?” John asked, small, tortoise shell readers as the end of his nose. You were more than grateful for that suggestion, and he didn’t seem at all bothered when you said you were a vegetarian. Your waiter poured the wine, John started with appetizers, and the two of you proceeded to stick to the topic of business, and what he was hoping for in the artwork for his den.
It started to be less and less like a date and more like dinner with a friend, which made you feel a whole lot better about everything. You wondered what the story was between John and Charlene: how they met, how they fell in love, how they grew so far apart. There was probably someone there in the crowd who would see the two of you together and report back to Charlene. Would she even care?
Also, you really missed Eddie. You watched John hold his hands out in front of him, explaining a piece of art he bought while he was in Italy, with the romantic lake as a backdrop, and all you could think about was how you’d rather be kissing Eddie in the alley behind the Velvet Hammer, surrounded by the smell of rotting trash.
John expressly told the waiter to let the chef know which substitutions they required for your dietary needs, and he ordered another bottle of wine. You were watching him pour it when, several tables down, you spotted a waiter who you swore was your previous work colleague, Jeff. Just then, the guy with the golden blonde hair locked eyes with you at the same time and a wild look flashed across his face before he regained his composure and finished taking the order at the table he was at.
“Excuse me for just a moment?” You said to John as you got up from the table and placed your napkin on your seat. “I need to….” what was the phrase again? You couldn’t tell him you needed to use the toilet, that was vulgar. “...to go to the powder room. I’ll be right back.”
You made your way along the main floor and then up the steps, making eye contact with Jeff and motioning covertly for him to follow you. Jeff jerked his head, motioning you in the other direction, down between the bar and the kitchen. You both did good work of keeping your composure until you were hidden and out of ear shot.
“What the hell are you doing here?” Jeff blurted, bouncing on the balls of his feet a bit.
“Um, I was about to ask you the same thing? Hello? You quit the gallery?” You exchanged a hug as you talked.
“Yeah, fuck that place,” Jeff adjusted the front of his shirt. “Besides you would not believe the celebrity sightings here. I’m gonna get swept off my feet soon.”
“Yeah no kidding,” you agreed in a whisper. “Richard Gere is basically sitting at our table.”
You were both speed-talking because neither one had much time.
“Who is that hot daddy you’re with?” Jeff asked.
“You’ll never believe it.”
“Try me?”
“It’s Charlene Gregson’s husband,” you said, exposing your lower teeth in a cringe.
Jeff made his mouth into an exaggerated “O” shape. “Girl, you have a lot of explaining to do. Why didn’t you call me?”
“Why didn’t you call ME?”
One of the other servers walked by and you hugged again, agreeing adamantly to meet up for cocktails as you wiggled fingers at each other to say farewell. You came up into the reception area, about to turn and make your way back down to the restaurant, when a deep voice made you freeze in your tracks.
“Hey.” It was Eddie.
---------
Eddie didn’t have a plan, he was just going. His hair flew in the wind, his hands twisting high up on the ape hanger handlebars, thundering along the winding mountain road like the devil was on his heels.
Sure, the restaurant you were at had tight security, but half of them were buddies of his. Plus, he wouldn’t have given a shit if he had to take them all on. In fact, bashing some heads in would’ve felt pretty fucking good in that moment.
He told Mick and Angus at the gate that he was there to cover for one of the guys, and they let him him right in; engine revving as the chopper crawled up the driveway and found a place right next to a red Ferrari. He ran his hand through his hair, rings clicking together as he swung his leg off the bike, adjusting his Coffin Kings leather cut over his plain white tee, exposing the tattoos from his neck to fingers. The black jeans he had on did not have holes in them but still—he was vastly under dressed for this crowd. God, he secretly hoped someone had the guts to try and throw him out; that would be fun.
He walked up to Rodney—a big dude with most of his dark hair in a buzz cut, but for the 5 inch long rat tail at the back---and offered him a smoke. Rodney had to wear his shirt buttoned at the collar and at his wrists to hide all of his tattoos. There were two other square-head dudes in suits positioned at the door, but Eddie didn’t know them.
He pointed his chin at the two in question, exhaling smoke. “Will I get any trouble from those two if I go in?”
Rodney wiped his nose with his thumb as his cheeks caved in for another drag. “Nah, they don’t mess with the Kings, man. They’re just gym bros. Say ‘boo’ and they’ll piss themselves.”
He made small talk for another minute or two, and then tossed his smoke when it was only halfway finished.
The two at the door moved immediately for Eddie, just as Rodney suggested they would. They even bowed their heads a bit, as if he were some type of mystical royalty.
The guy at the reception desk forgot to blink when he looked up at him, wondering if he should call the police or scream, but Eddie raised his hand with a partial smile, letting him know he didn’t want any trouble. “I’m just checking to see if someone is here,” he let him know. “It’s an emergency.”
“How about I check for you?” The guy in the wire-rimmed glasses asked nervously, shuffling papers. “Can I have a name?”
“No,” Eddie answered bluntly as he kept walking.
He stepped beyond a black partition to where he had a view of the lake windows and the people dining down below.
And then there you were.
Looking like a million bucks and then some. As confident as he’d been entering the building, now butterflies were exploding in his stomach and his face flushed with heat. If he didn’t know you, he’d be too nervous to even speak to you. You had always been way out of his league, but the way you looked that night really solidified the fact.
“Hey,” he said.
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“Eddie?” You stopped and looked around, not sure what was happening. “Baby, what are you doing here?”
You grabbed his hand and took him around the other side of the partition so that you weren’t right out in plain sight.
Eddie looked you up and down. “Did he buy you that dress?”
You only swallowed, and your silence said it all.
You took hold of his forearm, trying to meet his shifting gaze. “I promised you I’d call when I got home, what’s going on? Is everything okay?”
He’d rehearsed the words over and over on the ride there, but now they might as well have been a foreign language.
Eddie cast his gaze beyond you to all of the people eating their dinner as he shifted his jaw from side to side. “Did you tell him you have a boyfriend? Maybe I should introduce myself.”
“Baby, baby, baby, look at me,” you coaxed; one finger hooked in his belt loop and one guiding his face so that he’d look at you. His skin was hot, like he had a temperature. “I can’t do this with you right now. Please. You’re stressing me out. I’ll come by your place as soon as I’m done here, okay?”
Eddie knew he was blowing it. Internally, he tried that little meditation trick when you count back from ten or whatever the fuck, and he took a deep breath, but it didn’t help.
He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry,” he sucked his plump bottom lip into his teeth, biting down. “You’re just...so beautiful.”
You rose up to kiss his lips, and then you squeezed his hand. “It’s okay, baby. I’ll call you once I’m home, and then I’ll come over okay? I promise.”
Eddie nodded as you got further away from him, so far that you finally had to let go of his hand as your reach stretched to its limit. After you made your way down the couple of steps, you turned around to make eye contact with him again, but he was looking down.
Once you got back to the table, you stretched your neck up to check, and you didn’t see him standing in the same spot anymore, so you let out a relieved sigh. Your meals were on the table, and you apologized for taking so long. “I ran into a friend,” you told John.
After a bit more conversation and a couple bites of food, you glanced over to see that Jeff was shuffling his way over to your table. The smile he had pressed across his face was not reaching his eyes as he came up beside you and John.
He asked your name, as if he didn’t know it. “There is a...telephone call for you. Follow me please?”
You exchanged a look with John as you finished chewing your food and pushed your chair out. You excused yourself, again.
“Take your time,” John called to you as you followed behind Jeff.
Jeff did not take you to a telephone; he motioned for you to follow him around the other side of the bar, to a narrow hallway hidden behind a black velvet curtain. The sounds of the shouts and pans clinking in the kitchen were clear as day.
There was Eddie, waiting with his arms crossed. Jeff patted your hand as he left you there and walked away.
“Baby what...” your shoulders dropped, exasperated.
“Hold up, wait,” Eddie put his hand out. “I have something to say, and then you can go back to doing...whatever.”
You leaned against the door that said EXIT above it in orange letters. You really just wanted to get this dinner over so you could, indeed, be with Eddie again, but he was intent on dragging it out.
Eddie cast his gaze to the floor, hooking his thumbs into his front belt loops. “Listen, I know I don’t deserve you, okay?”
“Eddie---”
“Shhhh,” he whispered. “Let me finish.”
You blinked and nodded, trying to be patient.
“So, I know I don’t have a lot right now, but one day I will. I’ll be comfortable at least. I’m not going to be in that apartment over the garage forever. I’ve made investments, I have some plans,” his eyes flicked to yours only briefly. “I’ve got enough money saved right now, what if I commission a painting from you? I can pay you whatever this dickhead is offering.”
You opened your mouth to speak but then--
He put his hand at your waist, urging you closer. “I wanna be the one you come to, baby. I want to take care of you. I will, if you’ll just let me.”
You couldn’t look at him for some reason, tears pooled at your lash line, and a lump lodged in your throat, your lip quivering. You’d been taking care of yourself for so long, you hadn’t realized how nice it would sound for someone to offer such a thing
The tip of his tongue came out to wet his bottom lip, and he slid his hand up along the side of your face, urging your eyes to meet his. “All I wanna do is make you happy and keep you safe,” his thumb brushed across the side of your mouth. “You’re everything to me, baby. I just wanna know that you’re mine.”
“But I am yours,” your voice squeaked as you sniffed back pending tears.
“Yeah, well, there’s something else,” Eddie’s heart rate quickened. He stepped forward to close the distance between the two of you and touched his forehead to yours briefly.
“I’m sorry about tonight,” he continued, swallowing hard. Your wet eyes were possibly contagious because his chocolate eyes were glistening now too. “But I’m just so fucking in love with you that I don’t know what to do with myself. I feel like I’m---”
But then you smashed your lips to his, blinking tears down your cheeks, tasting the salt as it dripped down your lips and mingled with your shared saliva. Your hands wandered all over each other, begging for purchase, eager moans vibrating in your throats. His words and the sweet eagerness of the kiss threatened to make a mess of your underwear right there in the restaurant.
You blinked and sniffed as you met his eyes again. You were shaking your head, almost in disbelief at the circumstances. “I love you so much,” you admitted, relieved to say the words after they’d been living on your tongue for so long.
Eddie found your mouth again, clutching the back of your neck to pull you closer, speaking in between eager kisses. “You do? Say it again, baby. Tell me you love me.”
“I love you, I love you, I love you,” you murmured against his lips as he wrapped his arms around and crushed you to him. The last I love you made a little laugh hitch in your throat at the absurdity of where this confession was taking place.
Eddie picked you up so that your feet were off the ground for a second, making you squeal, and then he searched your eyes, his pupils blown. “God, I want to be inside of you so bad right now,” he breathed.
You reached down to feel the outline of his cock grow stiff in his jeans, and you thought about telling John that there was an emergency and you had to split.
He rubbed his nose on yours and then took your wrist and flattened your palm over his heart. “You can finish your dinner, baby, I’ll wait for you in the parking lot, I don’t care how long it takes. I’m not going anywhere without you.”
Part 12
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kaiser1ns · 3 days
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𝗦𝗖𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗟 𝗢𝗡𝗘 一 𝗢𝗡𝗘'𝗦 𝗗𝗨𝗧𝗬
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𝗶𝘁𝗼𝘀𝗵𝗶 𝘀𝗮𝗲 𝘅 𝗳𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
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SERIES MASTERLIST 。⁠.゚⁠+⁠ NEXT SCROLL
╹synopsis :: a skilled samurai had the task to assassinate one of the four landlord's daughter but things went in another direction when his parents decided to marry him off to her.
╹contents :: 2,4k words, historical!au, arranged mirage!au ; mentions of blood, murder, assassination ; symbolism with the names. read a/n at the end for more information.
╹notes :: first chapter of the itoshi sae fanfic, hope you like it ! this fanfic will have slow updates !
╹taglist :: @wirednintkoko @i-love-frensh-fries @steleir @beidousbubz @aoiropetal @raphsimp @rroxii @multi-101 @c4ttheart
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Holding his two metal swords, slashing the men's throats as their bodies dropped dead onto the brown tatami mats as now they began to acquire a red color. It's his duty as one of the highest ranked samurai to keep the Shogunate territory all safe and sound, leaving no trace of his or anyone else's deeds. Another job done with even more cleaning afterwards. He sighed heavily, as he tore a cloth from the dead man's robe to wipe the blood from his katana.
"You've got some nice finishing moves, Itoshi-dono." said an unknown voice behind the man who put away his weapons and removed the samurai mask and helmet that covered his face. Scarlet hair and blue-green eyes with underlashes, flashed in the dark room, his gaze was empty as if he had no soul — and by the way he just killed these people, he was heartless too.
"I am not doing this only for the honorary, work is work and it has to be done." the redhead said, stepping outside the room and closing it with the sliding door, turning around to look at the man, "Have someone clean this mess, I have to report to the Shogun." his tone carried this not as a message but an order as he walked past them, letting them do the dirty work.
Going in the direction of the river, in its ridge to cleanse himself from yet again another sin, but no matter how many times he washes his hands, clothes or swords — the stains of the endless suffering, the voices of the innocent and not, cannot be erased. They will always be a part of him, as long as he is alive.
Itoshi Sae was the name of the samurai, a young man who served the Shogunate's secret assassination group but he was also part of the main army holding a very high ranking and status because he was the firstborn from the nobel Itoshi Family.
The Itoshi clan is the most powerful and most important of all four great clans that dominated Japanese politics — the other three are the Tsurukawa, the Mikage, and the Hiori families, who also had their representative heirs.
The moonlight danced on the surface of the water, casting an ethereal glow reflecting in his eyes. Quite the contrast with the vivid light full of life, and his dull gaze that lacked brightness and vitality. He reached the riverbank, stopping in one place to listen to the gentle lapping of the water against the shore, a soothing sound for his troubled mind.
With deep breath he began to remove his blood-stained armor, letting it fall to the ground causing a loud noise from the weight. Leaving him only with his usual attire that consisted of a black kimono, white hakama and dark blue haori jacket with white wisteria flower on the back - the Itoshi clan symbol of devotion, longevity and resilience.
Sae quickly washed whatever he could, as he put it on again and set off again for the Shogunate's residence in a nearby town. And once he got there he received a warm welcome from the maids but he paid them no mind, he didn't care if there was someone to welcome him or not, the boy just wanted the earned money from his majesty — Ego Jinpachi, an ambitious and overly confident ruler but beneath that facade, is something even more sinister as he is extremely egotistical, cruel, and self-serving man who does not tolerate traitors and liars, and that's why people like Itoshi Sae are recruited into his secret organization.
"You are here earlier than expected," the Shogunate said taking a bite of his food, while the samurai got on the floor and bowed "I'm done with what you needed me for, they are dead and soon there will be no evidence for their lives." he replied with a tone of obedience, maintaining a composed demeanor, his thoughts hidden behind his mask.
"There's nothing you can't do, always with excellent and quick performance." the black haired answered "Now, a letter from your family came, saying it was urgent for you to check. But before that, come with me, I have another task specifically for you." Both men stood up and walked away from the big dining hall, going to the Shogunate personal library, that was kept away from anny prying eyes. It was a dark place, as dark as the Shogunate secret with only a few candles to lit up and to provide visibility.
"I need you to kill the daughter of the Tsurukawa clan. You know, the young princess who talks bad about me and what I do behind doors. I have eyes and ears everywhere. My men, including me, think she is crazy because no woman has the right to talk like this and most importantly about the one who feeds them.” The samurai just listened, observing the Shogun’s body language and tone of speaking and how the word kill came out so easily from his mouth. Even though he harbored no personal attachment to his targets, the idea of killing another noble for the sake of political power wasn't unheard of but he knew better than anyone not to question the orders of his superior.
But why exactly Y/N of the Tsurukawa Family? She wasn't the only one who talked about his wrong doings but she was alive, unlike others. Sae won't deny that he had know her for most of his live as they both were the firstborns and same age — with the only difference being that the lady was an only child and the redhead had a little brother — but he definitely heard her name mentioned when there was talk of the Shogun and some kind of revolution against him. That woman spoke nonsense left and right — or at least ran nonsense for all he cared, only those like Itoshi Sae knew what was going on behind the closed doors of the empire. That's a concern for another day.
"As you wish, my lord," Sae responded with a shallow bow, his voice trailed with no emotion. "Consider it done."
The Shogunate nodded, a murderous look in his eyes that seems to be second nature to him. "Oh, and more thing Itoshi, you will have one whole year to do this, starting from next week with the first cherry blossomed tree." he said, tone monotone like it was that normal to talk about assassination "This will be your longest mission and if you don't complete it by next spring you know what awaits you. So don't make me do the unthinkable. Now you are dismissed."
With a nod, the young man took his leave, thinking about what the Shogun just ordered him to do — to kill Tsurukawa Y/N until the next spring — and despite her outspokenness and rebellious nature, very unusual behavior for a woman at that, she had always been there, next to him on official dinners, paintings or playing together with wooden swords as kids. And now she had to be gone.
As he departed from Ego's dinner time with other important politicians, his thoughts drifted back to the letter from his family, he hasn't been home for months, and apparently now is the time to do so. Arriving at his quarters in the rooms of the residence, Sae retrieved the manuscript letter, the elegant calligraphy of his family's crest a stark contrast to the bloodstains that still lingered on his hands. Without further ado, he untied the thread and the scroll unfolded.
Itoshi Sae, from the Itoshi Family. Please come home as soon as possible, by the time you read this letter no more than three days will have passed, and it will be one more day till you return. The matter requires your presence as the future head of the family, so please get home immediately.
Could Rin be causing trouble again? No, it shouldn't be that. Someone must have gotten sick or died, if they seek him physically. Maybe another idiot wants to fight him? The last time he fought someone from another lower clan or a drunkard, things didn't end very well. What could possibly be happening, he didn't care about being the next head, but had to pretend for the sake of his parents' honor. With a heavy and hopeless sigh, he tucked the letter into his cloak. He will think about it tomorrow morning when he leaves.
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The morning is wiser than the night as old people tend to say, something new and exciting will await anybody but sometimes it's okay to look in the past that the night helds. Memories flooded his thoughts as he traversed familiar paths, the small pond with fish or the wooden puppets that he practiced on, reminiscing about the carefree days of his childhood before his life became entangled with the the dark side of the political power and hierarchy be it assassination, stealing important information and artifacts, weapons, you name it - he's done it.
Upon reaching the grand gates of his family's house, the samurai was greeted by the sincere smiles of his servants. "Welcome home, Itoshi Sae-sama." The people in front of whom he grew up, and they watched as he became a handsome and strong man, started to welcome and praise him. Their hushed whispers and furtive glances only deepened his sense of curiosity — something big is going to happen, and just hoped it wasn't something that important to involve him.
As he stepped into the ancestral home, entering the main hall, the samurai's eyes met those of his parents, they were happy to finally see their son — the reason of their pride and joy. There was silence as he entered, kneeling on the floor with the tops of the feet flat against the ground, sitting back on his heels, and bowing deeply from the waist with the hands placed palms down on the thighs or folded in front, looking around carefully — his father and mother were there, as well as his younger brother Rin, who was sitting next to their father. Sae's gaze fell upon a girl, an unfamiliar persona. New maid, perhaps? He remembered how his mother was very tired of doing garden work so maybe they hired someone.
Her face hid behind the golden fan she was holding and the only uncovered part was her e/c eyes as she also looked at him. Adorned in a beautiful red kimono, probably made of the most luxurious and finest silk with white crane and floral patterns with gold threads, the greenish obi was intricately tied on her waist. The flowing, wide sleeves accentuated her gracefulness, defining her silhouette with elegance, the Shimada styled hair into a large, elaborate bun on top of the head, decorated with golden comb, as she stood beside his mother.
His gaze did not miss every single detail even for a second, but this is very strange because that's not a worker's outfit. Could this be Rin's fiancé? He is two years younger than Sae and had time till marriage and the letter hadn't mentioned the true reason for his urgent return.
Oh ...
The realisation hit him like a swift cut from his most sharpest katana — marriage. The girl infront of him, is the bride. Oh sweet, Bishamonten, giving another battle to his fortune warrior. Sae's father, observing his son's reaction, cleared his throat to gain his attention. "Sae, we have summoned you here today to discuss an important matter concerning your future and the prosperity of our family." His words echoing with calming tone, "As you know, our family's honor is of utmost importance to us. It is with great consideration that we have arranged a mirage for you." He paused, allowing the weights of his words to sink in before continuing, "And to continue our legacy and alliances with the Tsurukawa Family."
He tried to be calm, to keep his composure, but his facial expression and his widened eyes gave it away. The Tsurukawa Family, the same family Ego ordered him to assassinate their heir. There's no way that's possible, the Gods above can't play such a joke on him right now.
"We understand that this may come as a surprise to you, but rest assured, it is a decision made with the utmost care and consideration for your well-being." He gestured towards the other feminine figure beside his wife, indicating the girl to put down her fan, revealing her full face. That was Tsurukawa Y/N — the young lady from the second clan in power, the same girl that will be killed by his own hands, the woman who will become his wife. It wasn't a dream, it was a nightmare.
"As your father, it is my duty to ensure that you are provided for and that our family thrives for generations to come. This marriage is a part of that responsibility," he explained, his tone gentle yet firm concluded with a reassuring nod, his eyes going to his elder son and soon daughter-in-law.
"When is the wedding?" the young samurai finally spoke up, his mind was messy, it was full of countless thoughts and plans of how this is going to work. He wanted his targets close, but not that close.
"Tomorrow," his father replied, his voice carrying a hint of sympathy for the shock his son was experiencing. "We knew that you won't come home if we said what is it for, so take it as a gift from Amaterasu."
Sae felt a knot tighten in his stomach. Tomorrow? It seemed impossible to prepare himself mentally for such a significant event in such a short time. Yet, as a samurai, he was trained to adapt to any situation. "I understand, Father," he managed to say, though his voice wavered slightly.
His father got up and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Sae nodded his head slowly. The family left the room, leaving him alone with his soon-to-be wife, he couldn't help but feel at unease — he never had any problems about his missions. This marriage wasn't just about securing alliances or ensuring the family's prosperity — it was God's plan, a forsaken and unfortunate planning with the most unexpected twist.
Turning to face Y/N as she waved her fan grinning so innocently at him, her eyes sparkled with adoration, a slight blush painted on her face like a freshly ripe peach from his mother's garden. Sae however, maintained his stoic demeanor, his eyes cold and distant, forcing a polite smile, though there was nothing to be smiling about.
"Don't get the wrong idea, Y/N. This marriage is just a formality, a transaction on paper. There's no need for us to pretend otherwise." he said, his voice letting her know that he isn't interested in this fiasco, or in her, for now. "So don't expect much." As he spoke, the weight of his words hung in the air, casting a shadow over any hope she might have held onto.
Y/N's heart sank when she saw how cold he had become, but she refused to show any sign of weakness. With a flick of her fan, she masked her disappointment behind a facade of indifference, determined to prove him wrong, even if it meant breaking through his icy exterior one layer at a time. She would not give up on the hope that someday, just maybe, he would see her not as a mere transaction or an old friend, but as something more.
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江戸散歩 [EDO SANPO]
• The meaning behind the Tsurukawa [鶴川] surname is 鶴 - crane and 川 - river. In Japan, the crane, or tsuru, is a national treasure and is considered the bird of happiness. It is depicted in art, literature, and mythology as a symbol of honor, good fortune, loyalty, and longevity. So to be free as a bird, and as calm but rebellious as the water.
• In Edo period Japan, the color red on clothes signified youth and glamour as well mad, passionate love that is all consuming but fleeting so is chosen. And the green which represents new beginnings and good fortune. So they are chosen for Y/N's kimono.
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©2024 kaiser1ns do not copy, repost or modify my work.
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belovedwhore · 1 year
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pretty boy pt 5
ethan landry x reader
warnings: smut, little bit of plot, “nipple play”, masturbation (m!receiving), dirty talk, thigh riding, lowkey sub ethan
notes: oh my god hey guys. i’m sorry i’ve been mia, it’s been a long week but i cracked this bad boy out for y’all so hopefully you enjoy it, i’m too tired to proofread so i apologize for any typos. i tried to lessen the amount of plot and get to the good stuff ;)
also i think the next part will be my last for this series because i wanna write other like pov of ethan in different scenarios so im gonna try to wrap this up. enjoy!!
pt 1 , pt 2 , pt 3 , pt 4 , pt 5, pt 6
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for the next couple of days you and than found anytime to hang out. whether you were skipping class or making tara and chad hang out so you could spend your time with ethan, you made it happen. every since he gave you head the last time, it’s like he can’t stop. he was quite literally pussy whipped for you, the way you moaned out as he devoured your clit, the endless praises you’d give him, calling him pretty boy, he didn’t said a chance. it got to the point where he could get himself off grinding on the bed with his head in between your legs, attacking your cunt. he’d groan when you’d slip your fingers through his curls, gripping his hair as you came closer to your unraveling.
chad had left to go the gym and afterwards he had class so he wouldn’t be back until much later. you came over shortly after he left to hang out with ethan. it wasn’t just sex, you enjoyed his company too but god the sex was good. well not “sex” by definition. you hadn’t fucked yet, and he hadn’t really complained about it. even thought you’ve been with each other in every possible way he still shyed away at the deed. he was just simply happy to be involved in any way which somehow made him even hotter.
you came over in a pair of baggy sweats and an oversized, just some stuff you pulled out of your closet, ‘easy to get out of’ pieces. you laid next to ethan on the couch as he sat watching a lecture and jotting down notes. he was wearing some athletic shorts and a tshirt with a random logo on it. you guys may or may not have skipped some classes to be able to hang out with each other without the rest of your friends in close proximity. and may or may not be required to watch these online lectures for review.
“do we reallyyy need to watch this ethan, i’m bored,” you whined kissing up his neck. you couldn’t care less about biology 101. i mean who gives a fuck.
“we missed class, we have to do this,” he replied shifting in his seat as you still trailed kisses over his chest. he struggled to focus on the video when he felt your lips on his skin. he loved kissing, his biggest turn on you learned. he’d always kiss you whether you just came on his tongue or swallowed a load of his. he was addicted to your lips. and the way he looked after a long kiss, lips soft and plump waiting for more. he was struggling to resist you now, eyes fluttering shut.
“i mean technically only one of us needs to be paying attention,” you whispered into her ear. you nibbled his earlobe playfully as you continued to tease him. you could see he processing what you said.
“you’re not w-wrong,” he faltered as your hands traveled under his shirt over the ridges on his stomach, “but i can’t focus when you’re kissing me and touching me.”
“ok, then i won’t,” you shrugged sitting back into your spot.
he quietly groaned at the absence of your lips and touch on his skin, “the thing’s almost over, then i’m all yours.” he leaned over and kissed you softly, lips molding together as he slipped his tongue inside your mouth lightly before pulling away. he hadn’t even realized this just spurred you on modern but he’d readjusted timely, refocusing on the video before him. you sighed loudly next to him, slightly exaggerating to draw his attention. he wouldn’t budge though, smiling in your direction, still working on you guys’ notes.
“i’ll be right back,” you quipped before hopping off the couch to head to the bathroom. you couldn’t watch this boring ass lecture any longer and you couldn’t stop thinking about ethan. you eventually decided to take matters into your own hands. before leaving the bathroom you took off your sweatpants, revealing your black panties that hugged your waist under your shirt. you walked back into the room, noticing his eyes on you from the second you walked in.
“where um where are your pants,” he asked dumbfounded. you’d broken his focus from your assignment.
“it’s a little warm in here,” you shrugged sitting down right next to him swinging one of your legs over his own, spreading then so lightly to expose your clothed core. he glanced down quickly before looking up again clenching his jaw.
you reached between your legs, circling your clothed clit. you let out a sharp breath as you brushed the bundle of nerves. you reached to palm one of your tits over your shirt, kneading the mound. the stimulation was enough for you to let out another gasp as you played with your nipple. your shirt tickled your hardened nipples sending shocks to your core. you breath grew heavier as you sped up your fingers on your clit, closing your eyes as you felt your panties grow wet with your arousal.
ethan couldn’t take it any longer, he let out a huff, “fuck.” shutting off the tv and tossing the remote somewhere in the room he embraced you quickly. he kissed you roughly, holding your face to his forcing his tongue into your mouth. he’d almost sucked all the breath out of you. you climbed over his lap, pressing your wet center onto his growing erection. he bucked his hips as you grinded on him, kissing his neck softly. he could feel your arousal through your panties. you felt his hands creep up your legs, groping your ass under your shirt. they soon moved to your thighs, and closer to your center until you stopped him.
“no, you had your chance and you wanted me to wait,” you said after pulling away from the kiss, “remember only one of us has to be focused.” you shifted your position so you were now only straddling one of his legs, his bare thigh directly under your mound.
“cmon you know we have to catch up on this class, i’m ready now,” he pleaded, looking down between the two of you at your cunt glistening with arousal. you pulled your top over your head exposing your bare chest to him. your hardened nipples poked out massively, erect from the stimulation. you brought his hands to your chest and he kneaded your boobs, capturing your nipple in his mouth. he nibbles on the bud, soothing the pain with licks over the mound.
“so i’m gonna focus on me,” you whispered into his ear as you lowered yourself onto his thigh, gasping at the feeling of your clit on his sculpted thigh, “a-and you can watch, but no touching.” you moved his hands away from your chest and placed them by his side. he looked at you in awe as you started to move back and forth on his thigh, your arousal slicking his skin. you played with your clit as you rocked your hips on his leg, feeling the pressure build in your core.
honestly ethan may have been enjoying this more than you, his breath hiked with your own. the feeling of your cunt on his thigh made him rock hard. when he flexed you could feel his muscle massaging you core, causing you to whine out and move faster. his eyes were trained on your cunt moving back and forth, breathing heavy. you wanted more from him, needed more.
“l-look at me,” you cooed, he looked at you, watching as your eyes screwed shut at the feeling of his bare skin between your folds, “you know what i want you to do.”
“touch yourself,” you said, “i wanna see you fuck your hand, and i want you to think about me.”
you kissed him harshly, biting his lip as you pulled away and rested your forehead against, “can you do that pretty boy?” he nodded as he pulled his cock out of his boxers and began to pump his length. his tip had already been oozing precum as it glistened under his touch. you spat between the two of you, your saliva falling onto his cock, lubricating it as he pumped faster, tightening his grip around his length. you followed his rhythm. as he fucked his length faster, you rode his thigh harder, coming closer and closer to your orgasm.
“what does it feel like baby,” you asked breathlessly while you relentlessly fucked yourself on his leg.
“tight,” he groaned, looking down at your cunt gliding across his thigh, “and wet.” he whimpered as he jerked on his cock harder. “y-you wanna know how you feels,” you moaned, “hard.” he groaned as you described your feelings to him explicitly. “feels like i’m gonna cum all over you any s-second, fuck.”
you could hear your slick on his skin, along with the noises of ethan fisting his cock and it sent you over the edge. eyes screwed shut you gasped as you released your arousal all over. you clenched around his leg, riding his thigh through your finish. rambling about how good he felt and how good he was listening to your instructions, “ethan y-you’re so good, so good for me.” you opened your eyes only to find he hadn’t finished yet, he was still jerking himself off, eyes on your cunt. you could tell he was close as his hips bucked into his fist and his breathing became sloppy.
“you know what i thought of while i came all over you,” you whispered as you wetly kissed all around his neck, “your cock inside me, big, stretching me all out.” he groaned at your words, increasing his pace even more to reach his orgasm.
his eyes were screwed shut now, focused on cumming. he hummed as you spurred him on with your dirty words, teasing and taunting him, “imagine my cunt wrapped around your pretty cock,” you spoke, “can you feel me?”
“mhmm,” he whimpered, “oh shit.” his orgasm ripped through him as he came hard into his hand and onto your stomach. he shuddered underneath you, jaw clenched as he experienced his high. he’d never felt anything like it. he felt weak, breathing heavy as you sat smiling at him, looking at the mess the two of you made. you kissed him softly, tangling your fingers in curly hair.
“can’t wait until you fuck me pretty boy,” you giggled into his ear. when you pulled away ethan was bright red, still shy of your bluntness. regaining his composure he realized, “we’re uh- we’re gonna need to clean up before chad gets back.”
“ok, but chad won’t be back anytime soon,” you bet, “it hasn’t been that long.”
seconds later you heard three knocks on the door.
“ethan, i forgot my keys again can you let me in?,” chad yelled.
“oh i guess it has been that long,”
“oh shit”
584 notes · View notes
smokingtomas · 6 months
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HC: In bed with Kenshi (Pre-canon - NSFW - Female Reader)
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Kenshi is lowkey a ladies' man, a noncommittal fellow, so whatever you're doing may not be for the long run
He rarely does the deed in bed, actually (in contrast to the name of this HC series). Being on the hunt for Sento means he travels quite often. You probably meet him at a bar or at a nightclub
Having sex in a public place isn't exactly his kink, but it does give him an adrenaline rush he craves
Under alcohol's influence, he would be so deliciously dangerous. Would make out with you against the bar, and would be so forward as to finger you against it. With people passing by
Given that he's good with sword, his fingers are highly skilled inside your pussy. He knows the right time to tease the clit and he would love to see you beg to come
When you do come, though, he'd whisper in your ear, "Ssshh, keep it down. Wouldn't want anyone to notice how aroused you are, would we?"
Of course, seeing you came all over his fingers would arouse him, so expect him to drag you to the nearest bathroom. He'd 100% do you against the wall and would be totally fine if you get a little bit louder
Kenshi's weak spot would be his ears, jawline, and nipples. He would go feral if you teased his earlobe with your tongue or some dirty talk as he fucks you up on the sink
Admire his nice ass, too. Tease it a little bit with your feet, and Kenshi would fuck you even harder
In bed with Tomas | In bed with Bi-Han | In bed with Syzoth | In bed with Kuai Liang
365 notes · View notes
chiriwritesstuff · 11 days
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The New Girl in Tinseltown - Chapter 2 - Devil's Advocate
A Dieter Bravo x Actress! Reader PR Marriage AU
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Chapter Rating: E (18+, MDNI)
Chapter Summary: A look into Dieter's point of view at the night of our fated trip to Vegas. How does America's favorite Bad Boy™ end up married to America's New Sweetheart™?
Chapter Warnings and Tags: (Not So) meet cute, PR Relationships, what happens in Vegas ends up in the headlines, Dieter just does not give a FUCK, Smut, SO MUCH SMUT, a look at the inner workings of Tinseltown and the sleaziness it comes with, Dry Humping, A hell of a lot of dirty banter, is that yearning?, mentions of devious deeds by sleazy people in show business, our loverboy makes a 'Pride and Prejudice reference, SLOW BURN WE DONT KNOW IT, this is unhinged, no use of y/n, No beta we die like men!
Word Count: 8K (whoops!)
A/N: I know, I know, I KNOW. I promised the release of this chapter weeks ago, but I got struck by the not-covid-but-felt-like-covid virus and managed to get myself into the biggest writing slump. I really do apologize for that, and I want to give a big thank you to everyone who stuck around and showed and shared love and support for the first chapter and this series! I can confidently say that the writing slump has finally passed, and we can finally get this crazy show on the road...
An (almost) year before that night in Vegas.
“Dieter, I'm expecting you to be on your best behavior tonight."
Dieter scowls at his publicist while his groomer diligently applies yet another round of pomade in an attempt to tame his unruly curls. "Define best behavior."
"They're about to launch a new girl into the circuit, some unknown that the studio thinks will become the next girl next door," his publicist responds, tapping away at his MacBook. "She's a genuinely sweet thing, all doe-eyed and untouched by the suits. Apparently, she's so sweet that Feldman-"
“Let me guess,” Dieter deadpans, "Feldman wants to fuck her," he rolls his eyes at that, slightly curious at the prospect of fresh blood. "Why am I not surprised?"
"That's not the best part," his publicist quips, his eyes locking with Dieter's over the rim of his laptop. "The studio wants to protect their asset, so much so that they hired-"
"No fucking way, they hired the Shark for this broad? What? Does she have beer-flavored nipples or something?" Dieter exclaims, his curiosity piqued. "Is she really that sweet?"
His publicist's mouth quirks into a small smirk. "The sweetest, most fucking forbidden fruit, my friend. So sweet that the Shark doesn't want you within ten feet of his client."
"Oh yeah?" Dieter replies, his eyes raised.
"Hell yeah. He tried to corner me earlier, warning me to keep my client's - and I quote - Dirty fucking paws off of his Doll-"
"Doll, huh? I bet I could tap that," Dieter challenges, his chest puffed out.
Dieter's publicist chuckles to himself, shaking his head. "Dieter, I know you believe you're God's gift to the masses, but trust me, this Doll? She's a bit out of your league."
Dieter leans back in his chair, a sly grin forming on his face. "Out of my league, huh? That just makes it more interesting. The thrill of the chase, my friend."
His publicist raises an eyebrow, skeptical. "Dieter, I've seen you chase plenty, but this Doll is different. She's not like the others. There's an innocence about her that even your charm might struggle to crack."
Dieter smirks, undeterred. "Well, we'll see about that. The forbidden fruit always tastes the sweetest, doesn't it?"
The publicist lets out a resigned sigh. "Just remember, Dieter, not every fruit is meant to be plucked."
"What is this event even for?" Dieter counters, appraising himself as his stylist smooths the fabric of his suit, a deep emerald green number with a crisp obsidian button-down. He pouts at the mirror, glancing at his publicist and his agent behind him. "It's not the Nickelodeon Kids Choice Awards again, is it?"
"Why? So you could be caught doing blow off a toilet bowl seat like last year? I'm still doing damage control for that, you know," his agent deadpans. "You're in luck; it's the MTV Movie Awards-"
"... and this is Doll's debut, huh? Is she up for an award or something?"
"Several, actually. Surprisingly, her last film gained quite the following-"
"... let me guess, it's some rom-com," Dieter interjects, a hint of disinterest in his tone. "What are the categories?"
"Three, to be exact." His agent smirks into his cognac. "Best Female Lead, Female Breakout Star, and Best Kiss-"
"Best Kiss? Seriously?" Dieter retorts incredulously, his eyes widening. "What's the name of her movie? I might need to see it for myself-"
"Dieter, level with me. Are you gonna keep your dirty fucking paws off of the Shark's asset?" his publicist sighs, giving him a stern look. "As much as I want to shove my foot up his fucking ass, I don't have the energy to have him breathing down my back the entire fucking night-" he looks off into Dieter's direction, who is currently on your Wikipedia page. He frowns. "Dieter, do you hear me?"
"What?" Dieter snaps, slamming his phone onto his seat.
"Can you manage to be on your best behavior tonight? Stay clear of-"
"No. I mean, sure, fine, whatever-" Dieter interrupts, his tone dismissive.
"Dieter-"
"I heard you! I promise to stay away from her, but the real question is, are you able to keep her away from me?" He smirked, a glint of mischief in his eyes.
The (not-so meet cute) at the MTV Movie Awards.
"Dieter!" you shout, hastily making your way toward him, clearly a few drinks in. "Surprised to see you here!" you shout excitedly, a little wobble in your step as you approach him. 
You adorn a sleek silver gown, your hair elegantly swept to one side, and your radiant face contrasting vividly with the venue's intense lights. Dieter finds himself momentarily breathless as he gazes at you, captivated by your ethereal presence, akin to an angel descending into the depths of hell. "Fuck me," he murmurs under his breath as you draw near, the collar around his neck suddenly feeling constrictive as he nervously swallows. "What the hell? I never get nervous around women," he mutters to himself, his eyes tracing the entirety of your figure. His pants grow notably tighter, his attention fixated on the hypnotic sway of your hips.
He greets you with a nervous smile as you come face to face, tenderly planting a kiss on your cheek. His eyes close momentarily as he savors your delicate scent, a sensation that electrifies his chest and courses through his veins, prompting his hands to instinctively caress the back of your head as he subtly tries to capture another whiff. A subtle sense of pride swells within him as he notices the blush unexpectedly blooming across your skin, its warmth cascading down your cleavage.
Forbidden fucking fruit indeed. 
"Doll," he attempts to say smoothly, a hint of nervousness lacing his voice. "I've heard so much about you. Congrats on your wins tonight; they're truly well-deserved!"
"Really?" you suddenly squeal, and Dieter feels like he could get lost in your energy. It's pure, sweet, and so inherently innocent—the childlike wonder of being thrust into the limelight, untarnished by the sleazy underbelly of Hollywood. He can't help but internally frown, foreseeing the inevitable vultures in suits trying to get a piece of you. Their insatiable hunger for new, sweet flesh is something he knows all too well.
"Well, yeah, Doll, you killed it, as expected. Winning tonight and sweeping all your nominations was a given," he muses, casually leaning against his chair. As he leans towards you, a subconscious desire prompts him to take another whiff of your perfume, desperately trying to commit its essence to memory amid the haze of his coke-induced high. He can't resist burying his nose in your hair, eyes closing as he takes you in once more. 
"Dieter-" you question his sudden boldness, a nervous chuckle escaping you. 
"I'm sorry, baby-" he moans into your neck, his hands traveling down the length of your back. "You must tell me what the name of your perfume is, its divine-"
"Oh," you laugh as Dieter pulls you into him tighter, groaning as his hands travel dangerously close down your hips. "It's 'Missing Person' by-"
"Doll," a voice emerges from behind the two of you, accompanied by a stern clearing of someone's throat. Dieter's expression darkens as he recognizes the owner of the voice, but not before planting one final teasing kiss against your throat. With a smirk playing on his lips, he straightens up and turns to confront the perpetually annoyed yet annoyingly handsome face of the man Hollywood dubs 'The Shark'- also known as the most ruthless of publicists in all of Tinseltown, protecting his clients with an iron fist so strong no one ever thinks of crossing him.
Unless they wanted a cease and desist letter shoved so far up their assholes... without any fucking lube.   
Dieter gets it, though. If he were in his shoes and he had a client like you? All sweet and pure with the face of an angel but a body curated by the Devil himself?
Well, he would fuck your brains out and make you forget your name first, but that's beside the point. The point is, he gets it, he really fucking does.  
"Well well well," Dieter croons as he holds his hand up towards your publicist. "It's been a long time, Shark. Tell me, did you have to call ahead to make sure that some poor bloke's mangled testicles made it onto your plate for tonight, or did you rip someone's balls off fresh on-site?" he snarks with the raise of his eyebrow, shaking his head as your publicist stares at his outstretched hand in greeting. Dieter scoffs as he retreats his hand, placing it on his hip.  
"Bravo," Your publicist grits through clenched teeth as he tries to appear as unbothered as possible. "Aren't you a little old to be here tonight? The rumors aren't true, you know. Fucking girls close to half your age doesn't keep you young, but I suppose it makes sense, considering a woman your age would know better-"
"Shark, I won't tolerate you talking like that in the presence of an actual earth-bound angel. Just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know right from wrong-" Dieter retorts, flashing you a smoldering smile. "... you know how to handle yourself, don't you, Doll? You don't need some uptight prick telling you what you can and cannot do, right?" he winks, a slight puff to his chest.
You visibly shiver at his cheeky insinuation, nodding. "Right," you breathe, taking a hasty gulp of your champagne. "I'm 29 years old, I don't need you defending my 'honor' like I'm some virginal maiden-"
"Well, when my client has far too many drinks in her and doesn't understand the kind of man she's in the presence of-"
"The Devil, right?" Dieter exclaims, pointing to himself. "A no-good washed-up actor who fucks anything with two legs while high off my rocker, who just so happens to be good at what I do with the Oscar in my shitter to prove it? Don't you think she knows all of this? My bare ass isn't on the front page of TMZ weekly because I'm a nobody, baby."
"Oh my god, Dieter," you gush, clapping your hands together. "I loved you in-"
"Doll," your publicist interrupts, a firm hand on your shoulder. "You have that meeting with Favreau at the Beverley Hills in 30 minutes. As much as we would love to stay and chat... we have our jobs to get to, right Doll?" your publicist says to you sweetly, his hand grazing your arm. He clears his throat, nodding at Dieter. "Bravo, it was stimulating, as always," he deadpans with a hint of finality, pulling on your elbow like a lost puppy on a leash. Dieter swallows as he witnesses your light dimming from your face, a small frown on your face as you try to remain cordial, a fake smile etched on your face.  
"It was nice meeting you, Dieter," you almost whisper, pulling him into one last hug. "... maybe we'll just run into each other again soon?" You quickly whisper in his ear, and the thought of the two of you meeting up in secret thrills him to no end. His dick certainly twitches at the prospect. 
Dieter takes one last whiff of your scent, his eyes closing as he wills the time to stand still, not wanting to lose the warmth radiating from your aura. He presses one last kiss on your cheek, his fingers caressing the spot as he gives you a genuine smile.  
"... it wouldn't be soon enough, baby."
He gives The Shark one last salute, flipping him off once his back is toward him. “Fucking asshole cockblock,” he mutters to himself, patting his suit pocket for his little baggie of E. He pinches the baggie between his fingers, looking at its contents in silent contemplation.  I guess if I can't get the girl, at least I can get the high, right?
The morning after.
Dieter is face down on his sofa in his boxers and his robe, groaning from the after-effects of his debauchery just a few hours before. As if his skull is splitting into two, he winces as he turns himself onto his back, staring aimlessly into his ceiling as his iPhone suddenly starts to go off from under him.
Sighing, he blindly reaches for his phone, one eye open as he squints into the tiny, shattered screen.
TMZ NEWS FLASH! Up-and-coming Actress who swept MTV awards show last night being groped by Resident Playboy Dieter Bravo? Her publicist sweeps in to save our New "It" Girl in Tinseltown from the grasp of the Devil himself-
Dieter scoffs as he swipes the notification away, his eyes scanning the next headline.
AP NEWS ALERT: Dieter Bravo seen kissing Rising Actress at MTV Movie Awards last night, is a new romance brewing between the Fresh-Faced Actress and Playboy Lothario Dieter Bravo?
"Dieter," his publicist groans as he walks into the room, picking up a crumpled pair of boxer briefs off the sofa, and throws himself on it, pinching the space between his eyebrows as he shakes his head. "What the hell did I tell you? Stay away from The Shark's client, don't grope her in front of him! Can't you just listen to me for once?"
"It was innocent! I kept my hands at a respectable distance from her ass," Dieter retorts, throwing his phone across the room. "I didn't even make a move—"
"That's not the point, Dieter!" his publicist spits back, pulling out his phone. "Do you realize how much this guy despises you? I'm good at my job, but The Shark? I can't go against a god—"
"You're making him out to be some untouchable—"
"...because he is untouchable, Dieter! Do you even know he's buddies with Feldman? After learning about your stunt last night, he's considering pulling you from the project."
"Please," Dieter scoffs, rolling his eyes. "They need me more than I need them! I'm practically doing them a favor, signing on to this fucking movie. They're not going to pull Dieter Bravo from a sinking ship! It's just scare tactics!"
"Yeah, well, you know what they say. The pussy is stronger than god, right?" his publicist replies, scrolling through his phone. "Feldman didn't appreciate your hands on his girl, and now he's out for blood. I warned you about this, D. Is some girl worth losing a multi-million dollar contract? Do you want to go back to doing 'surprise guest star' roles on cable TV? I heard they're thinking of rebooting 'Suits', it might be a good fit for you-"
"So what do I need to do then?" Dieter fires back, a joint between his lips. "I assume I'll be needing to make a public statement or some shit? Keep the old bastard happy?"
"It's funny you mention that D. I have an email from The Shark himself, with a list of what he wants you to say in your statement, promising he'll back the fuck off if you promise to not go within ten feet of his asset-"
"Have you ever heard of 'Missing People' perfume?" Dieter suddenly asks, taking a hit off his joint, his eyes following the thick plume of smoke as he leans back into the sofa. "Missing... Woman?" he mumbles to himself absentmindedly, licking his lips. "Fuck, what did she say it was? I need to stop going to these things blitzed out of my fucking mind-"
"Dieter, focus. Are we releasing the statement or not?"
"MARCUS!" Dieter calls out for his PA suddenly, ignoring his publicist as he grabs the phone out of his hands. "MARCUS! I NEED YOU!"
"Yes D?" Marcus responds as he rushes into the living room, pulling a fresh pack of Kitkat out of his back pocket. "Did you need a snack?"
"Have you ever heard of 'Missing Someone' perfume?" he asks once more as he pulls up the Safari app on his publicist's phone.  
"You mean 'Missing Person' by Phlur?" Marcus quips, picking up the stray pieces of discarded clothing strewn randomly around the room. “One of my favorite actresses just became the spokesperson for that perfume, swears by it-“ 
“Missing PERSON, that’s what it was!” Dieter shouts, tossing his publicist's phone back at him. “Marcus, you’re a fucking godsend! I knew there was a reason why I kept you around! Could you do me a small favor?”
"What do you need, D?" Marcus asks eagerly, his hand perched on his hip. 
"I need you to buy me 'Missing People'. A couple of bottles, at least."
"How many is a couple?" Marcus asks with a nervous chuckle. "Five? Are you giving these out as gifts or something?"
"Maybe I could call Chriselle, and tell her you're interested in the company, there are more scents suitable for men, D," his publicist says casually, pulling out his laptop from his messenger bag. "I ran into her at Erewhon the other day, she's a big fan of your work, and couldn't stop talking about Cliff Beasts... Now, about that statement-"
"Fuck asking, just go to Neimans or Sephora or something and buy out their entire stock. Lotions and body wash and candles if it comes in that scent, too, Marcus. Go to all of the fucking Sephoras if you need to."
"... the entire stock? D, what is this for?"
"Do I pay you to ask all of these fucking questions? Don't worry about what I'm going to do with it. Just get it in my hands by the end of the day, do you think you could swing that?"
"... yes?"
Dieter takes another drag out of his joint, nodding aimlessly. "Great. Also, stop by Blicks on your way back. I need an entire arsenal and the biggest canvas they have. New brushes, too! Set up my studio and put the 'Missing People' in my bathroom, and I'll want my usual In n Out order, too."
Flustered, Marcus pulls out his phone and starts typing Dieter's requests on his notes app. Running a nervous hand through his hair, he looks at his boss once more. "Anything else?"
"Yeah. Get the fuck out of my face and get to work, Marcus. Chop Chop!"
His assistant nods and scrambles out of the living room, tripping on the corner of the area rug on his way out. Dieter's publicist raises his eyebrow at the display, shaking his head as he types away on his laptop. "You know, you could be nicer to him, D. He tries hard to cater to your every fucking whim and fancy... now, are we gonna release that fucking statement or not?"
"What statement?" Dieter asks absentmindedly as he pulls out a small baggie from his robe pocket.  
"The one where you say that you had a little too much to drink and that you didn't mean anything by groping Doll at the Movie Awards, and that you're really sorry and will be donating a couple thousand to a women's shelter-"
"... and this will make The Shark happy? and Feldman off my ass?" he replies, rubbing his gums as he smiles to himself. "I'll be able to stay on the project?"
"You can start packing your bags, yes. Filming starts in a week for the next few months in Europe. It'll give this whole Movie Awards nonsense some time to blow over."
Dieter considers this for a moment. He sticks his tongue out in contemplation, coming to the unsettling realization that he hasn't been in a major studio project in the last few years. He needs this job more than they need him, and deep down, he knows this. He takes one last drag out of his joint, flicking the roach away as he turns towards his publicist.
"Release the fucking statement."
His publicist nods, fingers flying across the keyboard. "Good," he murmurs, genuine relief softening his features. "I can't handle you out of work for another month, not after the fucking pandemic... What's the deal with all that perfume, anyway?"
"What?" Dieter replies absentmindedly, scratching his beard.
"The stuff you made Marcus buy in bulk," his publicist clarifies.
"Forget the perfume. Do you still have those photos I sent you?"
"I've got them, but I haven't checked them out yet. Why?"
Dieter gestures toward the laptop. "Why don't you take a look?"
His publicist eyes him warily, opening the email. His expression shifts to shock as he glimpses the contents. "Is this—"
Dieter nods, a smirk creeping onto his face. "Yep."
"This is huge, Dieter. How did you even get these? They're screwed if this ever goes public—"
"That's why it's payback time. A little warning shot," Dieter interrupts, leaning forward eagerly. "We leak the photos. Anonymously, of course."
"Dieter," his publicist warns, "If they trace it back to you—"
"I'll take the risk. They messed with the wrong guy," Dieter scoffs, a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "These amateurs think they can get away with it?" he mutters to himself, then clears his throat. "Remember our motto?"
"Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."
Dieter leans back on the sofa, nodding. "That's right. Nobody fucks with Dieter Bravo."
Six Months later.
"Hi, I'm Carol Cobb!"
"... and I'm Dieter Bravo!"
"And we are doing a Wired Autocomplete Interview!"
"Alright! Is Dieter Bravo..." Carol energetically rips the first sheet of paper off her card, a playful smile spreading across her face as Dieter looks attentively at the camera. "Is Dieter Bravo dead?!" She bursts into laughter, smacking Dieter with the card, who simply shrugs. "Wow! Why would they hit us with that right out of the gate?"
"Not dead yet!" Dieter exclaims, pushing his signature glasses off his face while gazing into the camera. "Got close... several times," he adds with a pointed smirk.
"...and we are very much thankful for that!" Carol shouts. "Shall we move on to the next one?" She tears the next slip of paper, her eyes widening as she reads, “Is Dieter Bravo secretly married?!”
“Well, it wouldn’t be a secret if I spilled the beans now, would it?” Dieter smiles conspiratorially, rubbing his chin in contemplation.
“I can't imagine you ever settling down,” Carol muses with a smirk. "It seems unnatural, like going against the natural order of things, like sea animals on land. Dieter Bravo, settled down with one girl? Hell would have to freeze over before that ever happens," she teases.
"I think it could happen," Dieter says matter-of-factly, crossing his arms over his chest as he settles back into his seat.
"What could happen?" Carol asks, her curiosity piqued.
"Settling down. Getting married, perhaps... even starting a family," Dieter replies thoughtfully.
"It would take quite the woman to make 'The Great Lothario' change his ways. Seems like an impossible feat," Carol interrupts, chuckling. "A woman who can stop the great Dieter Bravo from his manwhoring ways? Maybe someone who lives under a rock and doesn't know about your reputation."
"Actually," Dieter interjects, a hint of excitement in his voice. "I think I've met someone recently who's made quite an impression on me."
Carol's eyes widen in surprise. "What do you mean, you think you've met someone? Who is this mysterious girl that's captured your attention, D?"
"Well, she's an actress-"
"Of course," Carol quips with a knowing smirk.
"... she's new. I had the pleasure of meeting her at the MTV Movie-"
"You're not talking about Doll, are you? The woman you groped after meeting her for the first time? Someone even said that they caught you sniffing her! Who does that, Dieter?!"
"I am a connoisseur of all things exquisite and beautiful, ma chérie. She smelled absolutely divine, and I swear her scent lingered on me for days after, I swear, just let me nuzzle my face in between the valley of those luscious tits-"
"God, D. I think they're gonna have to edit this shit out!" Carol mutters, looking embarrassed by Dieter's boldness. She leans towards Dieter. "I thought you signed some embargo with The Shark promising you wouldn't mention her," she whispers in his ears. "Even I wouldn't think to fuck with him-"
"Well, Feldman was my main concern, and now he's facing jail time for all of those underage claims and those leaked photos, so fuck it!" Dieter counters, knowing damn well he worked behind the scenes for it to happen, leaking a few photos he had stored away on his iCloud, kissing himself on the mouth knowing it would come in handy sooner or later.  
AP NEWS ALERT: Hollywood bigshot arrested for leaked inappropriate images from an anonymous source of various actresses, denies all allegations of misconduct.
One asshole down, one Shark to bury next, he thinks to himself, chuckling at the thought. "Besides, I can't get her out of my fucking mind! I've never felt this way about a woman before, Carol, I mean it this time!"
"I mean, she's undeniably beautiful," Carol agrees, "but she's still new to the industry. They've been typecasting her in those romcoms with whatshisname, but I've heard she's pushing for more challenging roles—"
"Cut!" The director's voice slices through the air, his eyes narrowed at them both. "This interview is about promoting Cliff Beasts, not discussing Dieter's love life with some woman."
"Hey, that 'woman'? She's my future wife, so watch your damn mouth," Dieter snaps back, his tone defensive.
"Whoa, D, hold on. Future wife? You barely know her!" Carol interjects, her hand pressed against her chest in disbelief. "Take it easy, baby. Get to know her first, at least."
"It's gonna happen, Carol. I can feel it in my damn bones. I was drawn to her the moment I laid eyes on her," Dieter insists, his confidence unwavering.
"Listen, Casanova, I don't care who you think you're gonna marry, but we're on a tight schedule here!" the director interrupts, frustration evident in his voice. "Stick to the damn questions, and no more talk about your little 'girlfriend.'"
"Fine," Dieter mutters, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of water. "But do me a favor—don't cut out the part about her assets. It'll bring in views like crazy. I did you a favor there."
The director waves him off as he storms away. "Remind me why I took this job knowing this idiot would be here," he mutters to himself, heading back behind the camera.
The day of the (not so thought out) wedding.
Dieter is anxiously bouncing his leg, biting his pinky nail as his groomer meticulously applies another layer of concealer under his darkened eyes. "Jeez D, have you been sleeping at all lately?"
"What?" Dieter asks absentmindedly, running a shaky hand through his curls. "Yeah- I've been sleeping, why?"
“Your under-eyes, D. They’re darker than my fucking soul, man. Didn’t I tell you to lay off on the sauce? I’m on my fourth layer of concealer-“
“It’s nothing,” Dieter says dismissively. “Just… have you ever been in love?” 
"Sure I have," his groomer replies, a small smile on their face. "That's why I'm married, silly. Why?"
"Say you like a girl, and you think that this girl might be interested but then TMZ posts leaked photos of said girl and some beefed up Hollywood hunk "canoodling" with each other while filming their movie together in Canada-"
"This is Doll that we're talking about, correct? The one you groped at the MTV Movie-"
"I DIDN'T GROPE HER!" Dieter exclaims, groaning as he sinks further into his seat. "Why does everyone keep saying that? I was simply giving her a friendly, yet casual hug when she APPROACHED ME-"  He huffs like a petulant child, his arms crossed around his chest in defiance. "Anyway, I thought, after I desperately tried to shoot my shot, let my intentions known in that 'Wired' Interview with Carol, that she would contact me, you know? Maybe slide into my DMs-" 
“Slide into your DMs?” His groomer scoffs, plucking a stray eyebrow hair with their tweezers from his face as he dramatically flinches, narrowing his eyes at them. “You flat out said you wanted to smother your face in the ‘valley of her luscious tits’, I would be surprised if she hasn't filed a restraining order against you yet... Let me give you a bit of advice: Girls want to be romanced, not objectified! ... have you ever had a 'real' girlfriend before, D?"
"Hey! I've had girlfriends, alright?" Dieter groans, frustration evident in his voice as he clenches his fists. "Just because they didn't stick around afterward doesn't mean it was all my fault, okay?"
"The girls you hook up with during your benders and then discard once the high wears off don't exactly qualify as 'real' girlfriends, D! Let's be serious here!"
"That's what I'm trying to be," he whines, "I'm trying SO HARD to be serious for once! I can't get this girl out of my head, and it's been what? Almost a year since I've met her? I can't get my dick hard when I'm with anyone else anymore, I don't want to take drugs, it's like I'm fucking broken or something! ... and now she's off fucking Joe Hollywood over here like I'm not bleeding my fucking heart out for her-"
"Wait, you mean to tell me that you're actually sober right now?"
"Well, yeah. The last time I took something was before filming Cliff Beasts, I thought you knew that. Anyway, it doesn't fucking matter. All of that and she doesn't even notice me."
"Well, I would tell you that if you had bothered to read TMZ this morning instead of sulking, you would know that there are split rumors between this girl and Hollywood neanderthal," His groomer retorts, a shit-eating grin on their face. "It was over before it even began. I mean, I've heard for such a massive man, he has quite the tiny di-"
Dieter perks up at that. "Say that again."
"They've broken up. She's back on the market, silly goose."
"So that means-"
"That means that I'm going to groom the shit out of you and help you out by making her realize just what she's missing out on, D." His groomer replies, massaging his scalp as they make eye contact through the mirror in front of them. "You're lucky that I consider myself a hopeless romantic. If you promise not to break her heart, I'll help you get the girl, ok?"
"Shit, do you think she'll like me?" Dieter says nervously, fidgeting in his seat.  
"Obviously," his groomer replies cryptically, a smirk forming on the corner of their mouth. "I may or may not have some intel from another groomer friend of mine about their supposed breakup."
"Oh?" Dieter perks up, his eyebrow raised in curiosity. "... and what would that intel be?"
"Oh, you know. Someone might have asked their stylist if they think you'll be attending tonight, how she kept trying to be sly about it."
"Doll asked about me?! Are you serious?" Dieter's excitement is palpable.
"Well, according to my friend, the reason why they broke up was that someone might have moaned your name while being eaten out by 'Joe Hollywood' the other day-"
"No fucking way!"
"She's into you, D! I would say that your little ploy during the 'Wired' interview worked more than you think, bud."
Dieter nods, taking the biggest sigh of relief as he settles in his chair. "One last thing, do you groom just the top half of me, or are you open to grooming other places?"
"What do you mean?" his groomer cocks their head to the side.  
"Shit, well... are you open to grooming my nether regions? It's been a while since I've been with a woman, I'm almost full caveman down there-"
His groomer tsks, pulling out their phone. "Dieter, as much as I love you, I don't love you that much. Let me call someone for that, ok?"
A few hours later, on the red carpet.
"Dieter," his publicist says under his breath as they walk down the red carpet. "The cameras are this way, why are you so distracted?"
"I'm looking for someone," Dieter replies as he winks at the sea of paparazzi, flashing them a peace sign as he walks toward the venue's entrance.
"Well, who are you looking for?" His publicist replies impatiently, looking down the red carpet.
"Doll, obviously. Do you know if she's arrived yet?"
His publicist rolls his eyes, sighing. "She arrived about five minutes ago, don't you see her?"
Dieter inhales deeply, his gaze scanning past the vibrant red carpet until it locks onto yours. His breath catches in his chest, surprised by the unexpected connection. You appear taken aback at first, but swiftly compose yourself, subtly angling your body towards him with a seductive smile playing on your lips.
"Holy Shit..." Dieter's mind races with excitement. "She really does want me."
Filled with newfound confidence, he playfully purses his lips in your direction, sending a cheeky kiss your way as his eyebrows wiggle in amusement. A flush of color blooms across your cheeks in response, catching his eye. But as he revels in the moment, he notices The Shark's gaze narrowing in his direction, a whisper passing between him and you.
That's fucking right Shark.  I'm coming for my girl, and there is nothing you can fucking do about it.  
Later, Dieter observes you from across the room as you sit at your table, alone, nursing another glass of champagne. He notices how you try to avoid meeting his gaze, despite catching you stealing glances at him throughout the night when you think he isn't looking. It surprises him to see you being so reserved, so quiet, especially without The Shark hovering around you like a protective dragon guarding its treasure.
What's gotten you so down, babydoll?  he muses, leaning back into his chair. As if you could read his thoughts, your eyes meet from across the room once more, and you quickly look away, smiling to yourself at getting caught looking.
Dieter senses the moment's significance, his heart racing with anticipation. He knows he must seize this opportunity, the perfect moment to step forward and break the barrier between the two of you. With a determined smile, he decides it's time to make his move.
As he rises from his chair, Dieter's confidence swells, fueled by the intensity of the moment. With purposeful strides, he crosses the room, his gaze fixed on you, the anticipation building with each step. This is his chance to bridge the gap, to finally reveal the feelings he's kept hidden for so long.
He draws in another deep breath as he approaches you from behind, mustering his most seductive gaze as he leans in towards your exposed ear, his warm breath grazing your skin.
"I can't help but notice that you've been eye-fucking me the entire night."
He groans softly as he takes a seat in the chair beside yours, hoping to conceal any nerves as he attempts to exude charm. "I guess my little ploy of trying to get your attention with that 'Wired' interview worked out in my favor-"
You respond with a subtle smile, your fingers gracefully tracing the edge of your champagne glass. How does something as simple as that manage to rile me up? he wonders inwardly, returning your smile.
"You know," you say softly, a chuckle escaping you as you shake your head in disbelief, "There are more normal ways to get a girl's attention-"
The longer Dieter spends in your presence, the more he feels himself on edge, the tension mounting with every passing moment. His pulse quickens, and he can't ignore the growing semi in his suit pants. It's astonishing how much you affect him, like a siren calling out for him while lost at sea, lying in wait, ready to bring him to absolute ruin. 
Fuck. Keep it cool, Bravo.
"Ah, but you're America's Sweetheart, and your pitbull of a publicist won't let me near you, I had to let my-" he gulps at the sight of your ample bust, licking his lips in anticipation, "... intentions very clearly known."
"Well," you breathe, chest heaving. "I don't know if it's 'clearly' known," your voice drops to a whisper, like a secret that is shared only between the both of you, two lonely souls amongst a sea of chaos. "I think you're just going to have to spell it out for me."
Dieter, sensing victory, leans back triumphantly, spreading his legs as he subtly encloses you within his space. His dark, smoldering gaze meets your thinly veiled attempt at your best innocent doe eyes... but Dieter sees right through it. He grins widely, reveling in the knowledge that he's the cat about to get all of the cream—your cream.  That's right, babydoll, I've finally caught you, and I'm never going to let you go.
He laughs at the sight of you, his chin motioning to your breasts.  "Do you want to have sex with me, Dollface?"
Your eyes widen, and a small gasp escapes your lips, as you search his gaze, trying to decipher if he's just bullshitting or if he's actually fucking serious.  I'm serious, alright, he chuckles to himself. "If I miscalculated this fucking thing that's going on between us, tell me and I'll fuck off, leave you alone-"
"What if I don't want you to fuck off, and want to tell you that I'm this close to being plastered and that all I kept thinking about tonight is you railing me with that huge cock we both know is aching for me in some deserted hallway-" you challenge, picking your champagne glass for good measure, downing its contents in one swig.  For courage, he thinks. "I would beg to ask you... what's taking you so damn long, Bravo?"
WhatsApp chat between Dieter & Marcus: Dieter: Hey Marcus, are you still in the venue? Marcus: Yes! With your publicist. Did you need something? Dieter: This party blows. Can I borrow your car? Marcus: Oh, did you want me to drive you home? The party just started, Dieter. Dieter: I can drive myself back, stay for the party! Catch a ride with the suits afterward! Get shitfaced, you're officially off the clock! Marcus: Seriously? Do you know how to drive a stick? It's my baby, I don't know if I feel comfortable with you driving it, are you high right now? 🤦‍♂️ Dieter: No, for the last time, I'm fucking clean, man. Just do me a solid and let me borrow your car, I swear I'll give you a fucking raise! What do you want for one night with your baby? Tell me, I'll give you anything! Marcus: Fine. Just tell me what you did with all of that fucking perfume, there"s a bet going on and I would like to shove it in your publicist's face that I know! Dieter: Seriously man? That's all you want? Marcus: Do you want my keys or not, D? Dieter: Fine. I took the fucking perfume, doused my entire bedroom in it, and fucked myself smelling it thinking about Doll. Dieter: Is that enough of an explanation for you? Come the fuck on, man, I need your car! Please! 🙏 Marcus: 🙌 Meet me at the lobby in five. 
"So tell me," Dieter shouts as he peels out of the parking lot, laughing at the delighted squeal that escapes your lips as you throw your head back, your arms raised upward as he turns quickly into the streets of Los Angeles. "How often did you think about me, babydoll?"
You boldly reach over to cup his erection, your small hand wrapping around the tip of it. "As much as I reckon you thought of me, Bravo. Tell me, how often did you come, alone in that massive bed of yours, to the thought of your cock thrusting into my tight pussy?"
"Fuck baby, do you want me to crash this car? It's not mine, you know?"
"Answer the fucking question, Bravo."
"Baby, if you only knew how much I fucking came just thinking about your tits... I don't think you know just what exactly you got yourself into, little girl... but I'll show you just how I thought of you coming on my fat cock, giving me absolutely everything-"
I've been hungry for you, baby, and I'm going to feast on every inch of your body, just you fucking wait-
He cackles like a madman as he peels into the dwindling streets of LA. "Are you hungry, Dollface?" he yells, almost running a red light, his eyes fixed on the glowing In n Out sign in the distance.
"I shouldn't, I have that screen test next week-"
"Fuck the screen test!" he shouts. "The night is young, and you are gorgeous. Let Dieter take care of you, baby... while I still have you in my grasp. I ain't gonna waste a moment I have you in my orbit!"
He pulls into the In n Out parking lot, cutting the engine, and pulls you into his lap, his face immediately diving into the valley between your breasts. "You can suffocate me with these tits and I would die a happy man," he mumbles against your skin, his growl reverberating throughout your entire body like wildfire. "What do you say, Doll? Would you do me the honors?"
"Fuck Dieter," you moan, tipping your head back in pleasure as his tongue teases the edge of your dress covering your breasts. "Grab my tits," you beg, grabbing his hands for good measure. Dieter wastes no time as he grabs the back of your head, pulling you into a kiss, his tongue licking along the seam of your mouth, begging for entrance.  
"Open up for me, baby girl. Let Dieter taste you-" he pleads, and you pull away with him, your hair wrecked and lipstick smeared. Dieter imagines he looks as wrecked as you do, his pupils blown and chest heaving. You pull him into another kiss, sighing into it, your mouth opening slightly. Dieter takes this as a sign to devour you completely, your tongues fighting for dominance as you begin to rock your hot pussy against his thick cock.
"I want to ride you into the sunset, D," you whisper, pulling at his curls harshly. "Are you gonna give me what I want? Or am I going to have to find someone else to do it?"
"Fuck-" Dieter pants, his gaze reaching yours, his mouth agape in awe. "How in the fuck did I get so fucking lucky-"
"Grab my tits, D," you ask once more, moaning and throwing your head back, biting your lower lip as you grind on his throbbing erection. Dieter quickly obliges, his large hands engulfing both of your breasts. His fingertips graze the edge of your dress, the hardness of your nipple pressing into the middle of his palm, and he swears that if he were to be struck down dead right at this moment, he would die a happy man.  
"Shit, I knew that your tits would feel amazing, but you are so fucking soft-"
"Oh yeah?" you tease, your teeth grazing the shell of his ear. "I'm soft in other places, too." You whisper in his ear, and he swears he feels the ghost of your smile as he moves his hands back on your hips, his fingertips squeezing the softness of your ass as he angles his dick where he imagines your clit to be, thrusting into your hot, wet heat. "Fuck, so goddamn soft-" he groans, his tongue licking a wet stripe along the tops of your breasts. "You're fucking everything I never knew I always wanted, baby girl," he praises you honestly, cupping your cheek as he pulls you into another kiss, groaning as your tongue dances with his, leaving him breathless.  
"Am I?" you pant as you wrap your arms around his neck, your pussy dragging along the thick outline of his cock. "You talk like you want to marry me or something-"
"... oh, but I do want to marry you, breed you, keep you locked up in my mansion... you have no idea just how much I've thought about you, these last few months-"
"Dieter! My Man!" someone shouts in the distance. "What the fuck are you doing here?!"
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he yells back, "I'm about to fuck this beautiful woman in an In n Out parking lot, what are you doing here?"
"Fuck, can I take a pic, man?" the fan shouts as he approaches the convertible.  
"Don't you see we're a little preoccupied?" you shout at the fan, flicking him off. "Get the fuck out of here!" you shout.
The fan quickly takes a shot of the both of you with his iPhone, a half-hearted apology mumbled out of his mouth as he quickly runs back inside of the restaurant, probably to the group of men who are completely unaware of the two celebrities dry-humping the fuck out of each other in their wake, eating their double-doubles and sneaking sips out of a cup filled with some cheap ass vodka, fist-bumping the night away.
"Are you gonna come in those Gucci pants of yours, D?" you tease, your pace quickening as you ride his dick relentlessly. "How does it feel having America's Sweetheart getting you to come in your pants, baby?"
"Fuck," Dieter pants, his hand wrapping around your neck as he pushes you against the steering wheel, angling the tip of his cock against your clit. "How does it feel to get fucked by The Devil, sweetheart? Your pussy is begging me to just rip those fucking panties off and just claim you, right in front of all of these fucking people-"
You shiver at that, a choked curse and his name out of your mouth as he sees the entirety of your body begin to quiver and shake.  
"Don't fight it, baby, I know you fucking like the attention, I know you want everyone to see how much of a bad fucking girl you are inside... but don't worry, Dieter knows, and I'll help you show them," he pulls you against him harshly, your chest pushed up against his, as his teeth sink at the hollow of your neck. "I'll get the world to see just who you really are, baby. Let me show you the way-"
You scream as he thrusts into you once more as he rips your orgasm out of you violently, crying out into his neck as Dieter explodes into his Gucci trousers, the mixture of your slick and his thick cum making an absolute mess of his loaned suit.  
I guess I'll have to pay for these, Dieter thinks to himself as he cradles your shaking form into his arms, licking away the salty tears running down your face. "You did so good, Doll, don't cry-" he whispers, stroking the back of your head as he tries to get you to calm down. "What do you need, baby?"
You lie quietly against his chest, your breaths falling into rhythm with his, as he assumes you're simply gathering your thoughts. "Baby," he pleads softly, his hands tracing soothing paths along your exposed back. "Please, say something—"
"Marry me," you whisper against his chest, the words barely audible but filled with undeniable certainty.
Dieter freezes, his heart skipping a beat at your unexpected words. For a moment, he's speechless, his mind racing to catch up with the sudden turn of events. Slowly, he lifts his head to meet your gaze, eyes wide with shock and disbelief.
"What did you say?" he breathes, his voice barely above a whisper, as if afraid that speaking any louder might shatter the fragile moment.
You lift your head, meeting Dieter's stunned gaze with unwavering determination. "I said, marry me," you repeat, your voice steady despite the racing of your heart. "Let's take this car and drive it to Vegas, get married by some overweight Elvis impersonator, and book the honeymoon suite at the Cosmo... I don't care how we do it, but let's get fucking married, D!"
Dieter's mind whirls with a mix of emotions—astonishment, disbelief, and a profound sense of joy. He blinks several times, as if trying to confirm that he's not dreaming, before a wide grin spreads across his face.
"Oh, my God," he breathes, his voice trembling with emotion. "Yes. Yes, a thousand times yes."
Taglist:@yxtkiwiyxt @skysmiller @picketniffler @readingiskeepingmegoing @islacharlotte @drewharrisonwriter@missladym1981@amyispxnk@thespookywookies@stevie75@mysterious-moonstruck-musings@daydream-believer19@survivingandenduring@darkheartgatita @gobaaby-blog-blog
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diabolus1exmachina · 10 months
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Effeffe Berlinetta 
Berlinetta is a name of the past, a name that conjures up a very specific type of car: a high-performing sports car with closed bodywork, a 2-seater (or 2+2 at most). The name Berlinetta embodies all the philosophy of the first car made by Effeffe. A car built today in exactly the same way as craftsmen moulded the famous GTs in the late 1950s: the mechanics borrowed from the series and redesigned to suit new needs, a hand-made chassis and bodywork. All starting from a blank sheet. An original car with a strong personality, in form and in deed, which is the best possible homage to the skill of these craftsmen. A generation we have perhaps forgotten, that offered the Italian car tradition - and the history of motoring generally - plenty in terms of uniqueness, charm and design. A product built and finished by hand, like in the past, with a tubular chassis, hand-beaten aluminium bodywork and wire wheels, seeking to guess and please the taste of the owner, expressing a timeless character.
The Berlinetta prototype was born in 2014, little more than a scale model. Made and finished, but not running: the mechanics are approximate, and it has never really been fine-tuned. But it is beautiful. An authentic time-machine. It seems as if it has just been found in a hay barn and dusted down. In addition, being practically a style model, its lines are pure and smooth, not “dirtied” by license plates or indicators. So beautiful, in fact, that, almost as a game, the Frigerio brothers sent a few photos to the people in charge of the Concorso di Eleganza di Villa d’Este. And, a surprise, they sent an invitation to present the Berlinetta in the Concept Cars category. A dream within a dream, the self-built car made its début and the world’s most prestigious and glamorous elegance competition.
Along with the interest and pleasure shown immediately by the public and the media, this would have gone to anyone’s head. But as we know, the Frigerio brothers aren’t the sort of people who sit on their laurels, and they decided the play another chip. They realised that their idea could become something more than just an adventure, and decided to exploit their years of relationships, acquaintances, friendships and skill to set up a workshop to produce the Berlinetta in small series. An exclusive, tailored and fully customisable product. Built as in the past by a handful of old craftsmen wanting to get back in the game, but with the help of the best technologies available today.
The lines of the Berlinetta need no explanation. They are a well-balanced mix of classic, late-50s stylistic elements, from the muscular bumpers to the oval grille, a hint of rear fins and the double bubble roof. The definition of the lines of the car talks of an approach that is about as poetically anachronistic as you can get. The Frigerio brothers started by placing the mechanics and seats on the floor, tracing the basic outline around them with chalk, then gradually building the chassis, welding, cutting and welding again. Following the curves of the tubular metal frame, they then moved onto the bodywork, beaten entirely by hand in aluminium according to the artisanal sensitivity of Vittorio, who has a good hand, assisted by a few panel beaters with forty years’ experience. And from there, the project moved on in a kind of reverse engineering, working backwards by making 3D scans of the shapes to produce the drawings and designs.
Style and proportions have that instantly recognisable Italian flair, as does the passenger compartment, entirely leather-lined with a dashboard painted in the same colour as the car, and the Alfa Romeo-derived mechanics. Who, working according to the Fia Gr2 specifications of the 1971 European Touring challenge, they were able to achieve around 200 HP at 6800 rpm, with maximum torque of around 30 Kg/m at 4400 rpm, on the road with no technological support.
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ezrasbirdie · 11 months
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surrender [chapter two] - joel miller x ofc daisy
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series masterlist & summary chapter summary: Joel has a hard time warming up to his and Ellie's new companion--externally, at least; Daisy opens up about her past. rating: M [warnings: dirty thoughts from Joel; Joel being kind of a huge jerk and then being soft; descriptions of chronic pain] wc: ~3k a/n: kisses to @starlightmornings for the beta always. also, reminder that i no longer have a taglist: please head over to @ezrasbirdie-updates and turn on notifs if you're interested in staying current. we're still getting set up here, but it's my firm belief Joel is a man who is constantly thinking about something and has a running inner monologue so there's a lot of navel-gazing from him here. i promise it'll be worth it.
masterlist | previous | next
~
For all that Ellie teased him about his age, she didn’t seem to notice the cracks or pops that issued from Joel every goddamn time he moved. That or she wrote it off as him just being old—like that’s just what happened after a while. She wouldn’t have been wrong, but lately, he could hardly stay in one position for more than a few minutes before the normally dull ache in his knees grew sharp and unforgiving. 
Daisy noticed. Daisy watched him stand up and limp around, walking off the stiffness that gathered in his knees. She watched him tuck his poorly-healed hand under his other arm to keep it warm as they walked the overgrown trails of what was once a national park. 
She didn’t know what kind of peripheral vision he’d developed since his hearing had faded. Every time he turned toward her, she looked away. Anyone else might not have noticed anything. 
He couldn’t blame her for keeping an eye on him, either. She had no reason to trust him just yet. When she started offering help, though, he realized it wasn’t mistrust that drove her observations—it was concern.
It was endearing as much as it vexxed him. 
“Do you need a few minutes?” She’d ask, and he’d scowl, gruffly pointing out that she should be asleep. 
“Do we need to slow down?” She’d ask. 
He’d always answer something like, “We ain’t on a scenic hike, kid,” or something equally as prickly. But she kept on, and he never asked her to stop. 
He didn’t know why he didn’t just tell her to knock it off.
A full week passed before he took her up on one of her offers. He’d expected her to make a big deal of it, but she’d just taken his place as he settled in front of the campfire, the heat soothing his knees so much he could have cried. 
He told himself he let her stay; that Ellie liked her so much it’d be cruel to take away the kind of bond she might have had with Tess, were circumstances different. And that part wasn’t exactly a lie—he didn’t want to take that from her. 
But Tess, his Tess—she’d begged him to save who he could save. She’d believed in Ellie; she’d told him as much, and she’d always had more faith that good things could still happen. 
Her heart was always better than his.  
And Daisy, with her bark of a laugh (much too loud, in Joel’s opinion) and her mission to collect as many writing tools as possible and her patience with Ellie’s ceaseless questions—she could be saved. She should be saved. They could find somewhere safe for her instead of leaving her in these woods.
If he framed it that way, the warmth that shot through his body every time she looked up and smiled at him felt less like betrayal and more like the satisfaction of doing a good deed. It was charity, nothing more. 
Still, he kept a healthy distance from her. She’d leave them at some point. She said herself she’d been alone for most of her life. He wouldn’t get attached to someone else. Not when he’d already utterly failed at that with Ellie.
And Daisy just had to be beautiful, too. 
He couldn’t remember the last time he thought a woman was beautiful like that. Sexy, sure. Attractive, pretty—he’d seen plenty of those types, even nowadays, but beautiful was hard to come by. Something about her glowed. 
His relentless thoughts drifted to her more often than not as he tried to sleep, and he wished they were all the kind that made it hard to look her in the eye a few hours later.
Sometimes they were.
Sometimes he thought of her on her knees, mouth open and gazing up at him, waiting for him to do whatever he wanted. He’d brush those aside quickly. It wasn’t right, lusting after her like that. And he had no idea how to be attracted to someone who wasn’t Tess—or accept that he was attracted to someone that wasn’t her, at least.
Instead, he steered his thoughts to how Daisy could have survived this long all on her own. How’d she get so far without turning out like him? He hadn’t found a single sharp edge on her.
And how could she be so open with her past? He kept his own       locked behind an inches-thick metal door, guarded by barbed wire and stubborn silence. Even when Ellie dodged most of Daisy’s follow-up questions, it didn’t deter Daisy from answering at all. She demanded nothing in return for her cooperation.
Nothing.
The kid’s incessant questioning gave him more information about Daisy than he’d given anyone about himself in the last twenty years. It was confusing and magnetic and infuriating. 
To his annoyance, he found her interesting, too. 
He’d expected to have to show Daisy how to dress anything they managed to catch, but when he laid out a bloody rabbit carcass on a flat stone in front of her, she pulled out her pocket knife and set to work. 
“How long did you say you were in the Omaha QZ?” He asked. 
“Five years,” she said, not looking up from her task. “But before that, I moved around. And my parents and I went camping a lot. And I was in Girl Scouts.” 
“They teach you how to field dress game in Girl Scouts?” He asked. 
“No,” she laughed—too loudly, again, but he couldn’t make himself correct her. “My dad did. It’s weird, but I think he'd have liked doing all this crap to survive.”
“Is he…” Joel started.
She faltered at her task but didn’t stop. 
“He died that night,” she said, and he didn’t have to ask which night she meant. “Mom and I found our way to a military camp, but we got separated. I looked for her for weeks, but…I don’t know, I never saw her again. I was home for the weekend. If I’d stayed at school I would have been caught in the bombings.” She looked up at him, her eyes glazed over, like she could see it all happening in front of her. “Hooked up with a few groups here and there, but their methods of survival were…they didn’t mesh with mine. So I’ve mostly been on my own.”
Joel had a partner this whole time. Tommy, Tess, even Ellie—one way or another, he had someone watching his back, and he was watching theirs. He might have been hollow and miserable and violent all this time, but never alone.
“Sorry,” she muttered, cheeks flushing at his silence. “I never know when to shut up. I guess you had your brother for most of all this? The one we’re going to meet?”
For one fleeting second, he almost told her about Tess, but the urge disintegrated as soon as Tess’s face flashed in front of him. 
“Yeah,” he said hoarsely. “Somethin’ like that.” 
“What happened to your dad?” Ellie asked, and Joel snapped his head up at the little demon, suppressing an urge to reach over and smack her upside the head. 
Instead, he gave her a hard glare. 
“What? What did I do?” Ellie asked, glancing at Daisy, who’d stopped skinning the rabbit. She looked up at Joel, her shoulders shaking. It was the kind of mirth that would pour from him when Sarah said “Fuck you!” from her little seat in the grocery cart after too much time around construction workers, scandalizing every church lady in a five-foot radius.
Kids.
“What an invasive and personal question you’ve just asked,” Daisy admonished, and Joel found his mouth twitching at the corners. Ellie, for the first time since he’d known her, had no witty comeback, opening and closing her mouth as she searched for words. He couldn’t stop the huff of a laugh at her speechlessness, his lips turning up into a smirk. Daisy caught him, a delighted grin spread across her face, her eyes dancing at his reaction.
Got you, they said. He wouldn’t argue with that. 
She turned her focus back to the kid, who was still searching for words.
“It’s fine, Ellie, I’m just messing with you,” Daisy soothed.
“Fuck, really?” Ellie gasped. “Shit, man. I thought you were mad.” 
“Of course not. But I’m already skinning this rabbit and I’m about to do a whole bunch of other gross shit to it, so I’d rather save that story for another time. Okay?”
“Fine,” Ellie said. “Can I watch? Can you teach me?”
The smile fell from his face as he observed them. He retreated back into himself, the warmth from before fading back into irritation. She hadn’t been nearly as interested when he’d tried to show her how to do the same thing. What was so goddamn interesting about it now?
Daisy. Daisy was the interesting part about it now. 
He didn’t like Ellie getting so attached to someone who’d just leave her. And if he let himself be honest—which he found himself doing more and more these days—he didn’t want to get close to someone who’d just leave him, either. 
**
Joel’s demeanor turned colder with the weather, and Daisy didn’t know where she’d gone wrong. One day he was almost curious about her—she’d even made him laugh!--and the next he’d stopped looking in her direction if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. Ellie still seemed to like her just fine. She’d even started opening up, answering some of those questions Daisy gently lobbed her way. 
But Joel? It was the third time Joel rolled his eyes during a conversation he wasn’t even bothering to take part in that confirmed she wasn’t just being paranoid. She misunderstood the amount of room he’d made for her in their space. 
Daisy kept pretty quiet after that. 
She enjoyed watching Ellie and Joel together, though. He was still surly, but the girl was an expert at loosening him up. He even laughed at some of her awful puns in that joke book she carried around. Their brief, wordless conversations amused her, too, but those hit something deep and wistful inside of her. She’d never been close enough to anyone that they might know what she meant just by a raised eyebrow.   
Daisy busied herself in her journal instead, cataloging the different plants and fauna they found along the way with the help of an ancient field guide that was outdated long before she was born. She’d found it in an abandoned thrift store a few years after the outbreak. She found a lot of things in abandoned thrift stores, actually. It turned out people didn’t think of Goodwill as a place to find useful supplies. 
They were mostly right.
After a week of keeping quiet and out of the way, she came to accept that her presence was unwanted at best. For one of her companions, anyway. Ellie kept trying to pull Daisy into conversations, but Daisy’s tongue got trapped under all her self-consciousness and the weight of Joel’s constant scowl. 
Her map showed a fork on their path she could take in the next day or two that might take her past a small community she’d heard about in the QZ. It was still there, she could at least figure out what to do. She sighed as she studied the twisting roads, more disheartened than she thought she’d be. 
It’d been nice, being with people. 
**
“What’s going on with you?” Ellie hissed at Joel one particularly cold morning. Daisy lagged behind, keeping them within sight as she poked at fallen leaves and fungi along the trail. 
“The hell do you mean?” 
“Why are you being such an asshole to her now?”
He just grunted in reply, not willing to get into this with a fourteen-year-old. How could he explain that every word Daisy said made it harder to slam shut the door Ellie pried open? He didn’t have the words.
But the girl just glared at him, hands on her hips, dark eyes drilling into his, and he didn’t have a good answer. “How exactly am I being an asshole? She doesn’t even talk to me.”
“Fuckin’ obviously she doesn’t talk to you. You wanna talk to someone biting your head off all the time?”
“I talk to you,” he shot back, and Ellie's eyes narrowed.
“I don’t…I don’t want her to leave. I like her. She braids my hair sometimes,” Ellie said, stroking absentmindedly at a small braid on the side of her head. 
Joel’s mind strayed to hours spent with Saturday morning cartoons distracting Sarah as he followed each careful instruction given to him by a group of cheerful women in a brightly-lit salon. He’d left that first appointment with red cheeks and a pocket full of phone numbers—just in case he had any questions. 
“I…she said she’s happier alone anyway,” he said, pushing the memory aside before it could do any damage. 
But now that he thought about it, he couldn’t remember her saying that. Just that she’d always been alone. And the thought of her actually striking out on her own again just as the weather had gotten colder unsettled some newly-softened part of him. 
Somehow he knew she wouldn’t take that sleeping bag back. 
“And who said anything about her leavin’?” He demanded. “Did she say that?”
“No,” Ellie replied. “I just know that look.”
“What look?”
“The look people get before they leave,” she said.  
Joel swallowed hard, unexpected panic clawing at his chest. All this time he’d been upset about Daisy leaving the both of them and upsetting Ellie, and he was the one pushing her out.  
“Why hasn’t she said anything?” He asked instead, knowing full well why.
“‘Why hasn’t she said anything?’” Ellie mocked, deepening her voice to a register closer to his. “Really?”
Joel scrubbed a hand down his face and looked back. Daisy trailed a little ways behind, bent over to examine a plant and shaking her head at it. She took her notebook out and scratched something out with a worn pencil. 
“So what do you want me to do?” He snapped. “If she wants to leave, she wants to leave.”
“She doesn’t want to leave, you dick,” Ellie said, scowling, her cheeks turning red. Joel didn’t even know why he was arguing with her—he didn’t even know who he was mad at. 
Himself, mostly. 
Two months ago he would have shrugged his shoulders. Tough shit, he would have said, if she dies alone out there, she dies alone. That might as well have been a lifetime ago. It turned his stomach now.
Save who you can save.
For Ellie, he told himself. For Tess, too.
“What the hell would I even say?”
“How the hell should I know?” 
Daisy had made her way to them before he could snap back.
“Everything okay?” She asked, tugging at the bottom of her coat, eyes darting from Ellie to Joel. “Why did we stop?” 
“Yeah, Joel, is something wrong?” Ellie asked, and he glared at her raised eyebrows.
She was right, goddammit. 
Ellie threw her hands up and slinked away, leaving him with Daisy, who watched her saunter off with big hazel eyes before turning back to him. He didn’t even know where to start, but he didn’t have to—she talked first. 
“Listen, I’m sorry if I’m holding you two up,” she said, fidgeting with a zipper on her jacket. “I was thinking…I’ll probably head on by myself soon. There’s a fork in the trail that’s maybe a day out, and I—”
“Stay,” he interrupted. “You shouldn’t—it’s dangerous. You should stay with us.” 
Her lips quirked up a smile, but it left just as quickly. “I know you have some sense of duty or something here, but you’ve made it really clear you don’t want me around, and that’s totally fine—”
“Let me stop you. I got no sense of duty to anyone. If I didn’t want you here, I’d have cut you loose back at the camp. But Ellie likes you around.”
Daisy was still squinting at him as Ellie sidled up beside him. 
“Look,” Ellie said, apparently deciding she did need to be part of this conversation. “Joel is very rude, he’s just like that, but after a little while he’s nice sometimes. At first he’s all, ‘No, don’t talk, don’t ask questions, that’s annoying,’ and then, like, twenty minutes later he’s asking where you’re from and telling you all his life story—”
“Ellie!” He warned, and she paused her rant but didn’t bother to hide the smirk on her face. Joel sighed. “I will try to be less of an asshole. Is that good for you?” 
Daisy folded her arms across her chest and sized him up as he might have done an especially hard-to-read client back in Boston. 
“Fine,” she relented. “I’ll stay for Ellie. But you have to be nicer to me.”
“I’m not…nice,” he huffed. 
“Well, you know, figure it out,” she said, sounding a lot like Ellie. 
“Fine,” he conceded. 
“Good.”
After a moment’s pause, he stood aside, holding his arm out to motion for her to go in front of him. 
“Come on then, chickadee. Got places to be, flowers to draw.”
She smiled at him and rolled her eyes, and some knot in his chest untied itself. He breathed a little easier, the unnecessary tension he’d built up in his body loosening as she walked past him. He hadn’t figured out his feelings toward the whole situation yet, or towards Daisy.
All he knew was that treating her like she was disposable hurt. And so he wouldn't, not anymore.
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daisynik7 · 1 year
Text
Rush
Chapter 5: Over
Pairing: Eren Jaeger x f!reader
Rating: Explicit
cw: cunnilingus, spitting, praise kink, daddy kink, vaginal sex (cowgirl)
Summary: After your one night with Eren, you’re convinced that whatever the two of you have is over. But it seems like neither of you can avoid each other for much longer.
Notes: Chapter title inspired by “Over” by Lucky Daye.
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“Can you help me roll up my sleeves? It’s getting into the cookie dough.”
Mikasa smiles as she assists you, folding your sleeves over until they’re up to your elbows. She sticks her finger in the batter and tastes it, nodding her head in approval. 
“Hey! Don’t stick your finger in there. People are going to be eating this.”
“It’s getting baked anyways, it’ll be fine,” she justifies, with a wave of her hand. She goes back to her spot, transferring freshly baked snickerdoodles from a baking pan onto a wire rack to cool. 
It’s Friday before dinner. The two of you are in the kitchen of your RA’s room, baking dozens of cookies for tomorrow’s event. Sigma Nu Kappa hosts a bake sale every fall semester to raise money for their charity: the Stohess Children’s Hospital. One $25 ticket gives access to all-you-can-eat desserts, made fresh by the sisters of SNK, as well as some professionally baked goods from a few generous donors.
With the help of Alpha Tau, your sorority is expected to raise even more money this year. The brothers have been helping immensely with ticket sales. Jean and Marco sold tickets to their entire soccer team and the coaching staff. Levi, who works at the university gym, is planning to bring all his coworkers. Erwin easily convinced all the professors at the business school to attend. In addition, many of the brothers have volunteered to help with baking and setup during the event. 
There are, however, a few brothers noticeably absent. Unfortunately, that includes Eren.
It’s been two weeks since that night. Two weeks since you last saw him when he fucked the virginity out of you. Naturally, you’ve managed to avoid him, since the two of you are in completely different majors. And maybe, just maybe, you were actively declining Armin’s invitations to go to the Alpha Tau house for dinner. Lucky for you, Mikasa was also avoiding the house for her own reasons.
Turns out, on the same night you and Eren had sex, Mikasa invited a certain Alpha Tau brother by the name of Jean Kirstein to have a little sleepover in your shared room. So, your absence wasn’t noticed,  allowing you to keep the dirty deed between you and Eren a secret. 
After sneaking out of Eren’s room that morning, you finally checked your phone, expecting dozens of worried texts from your roommate. Instead, you were met with three surprising messages:
Mikasa: Need the room tonight, so sorry
Mikasa: Petra said you can stay with her at the house
Mikasa: I owe you
When you confronted her about it later that day, she acted nonchalant, even claiming it was just a drunken hookup. You know the drunk part of it isn’t true, considering how Mikasa would never let herself lose her inhibitions while under the influence. 
And now you know it wasn’t just a hookup, as she stares at her phone, smiling at a conversation her and Jean are having through text. With their new relationship still fresh, Mikasa has been staying away from the frat house until Jean properly informs his brothers about them.
You’re happy for your friend, seeing her all giddy and smiley like this. And because of Jean, of all people, who’s been smitten since he laid eyes on her. Good for them, you think, trying not to be disappointed at your own shitty situation with Eren.
With the ingredients for your chocolate chip cookies all mixed into a delicious batter, you start scooping them into rounds onto a baking sheet. Mikasa is already finished with her last batch of snickerdoodles, waiting for them to cool so she can start packing. She leans against the countertop, giggling at a private joke shared between her and her new beau. You can’t help but feel jealous. 
Your RA, Yelena, comes into the kitchen and takes a big whiff. “It smells amazing in here,” she compliments, reaching for one of the snickerdoodles. Her hand gets swatted away by Mikasa, who’s suddenly aware again. “This is for tomorrow,” she says.
“But I’m letting you use my kitchen! Can’t I at least get a taste?”
“You can eat the misshapen ones over there by the fridge,” Mikasa directs, pointing to a small stack of irregular cookies. Yelena lets out a satisfied, “Yes!” as she makes her way to the treats. She asks you, “I already paid you for the ticket, right?”
“Yeah, you Venmo’d me a few days ago,” you remind her. 
“Were you able to sell all your tickets?”
“Yeah. We only had to sell five tickets each, since we have the Alpha Tau’s helping us. I sold the rest of mine to some Eta Iota’s.”
“And I sold mine to Jean, Armin and some Delta Mu’s,” Mikasa chimes in, putting her phone away in her pocket. 
“Eren didn’t buy one?” you ask. 
She rolls her eyes. “He said he doesn’t like sweets, so he’s not coming.”
The more you find out about the mysterious Eren Jaeger, the less surprised you are about how little you have in common. This makes it easier to move on from him. So you think.
Mikasa adds, “Also, he said he’s going to the beach during the day and that he’ll be too tired to drag his ass to our event.” 
You can’t help but wonder who he’s going to the beach with. Probably Reiner and some girls. Great. He’s already moved on and you’re still stuck on him. Maybe it’s time you move on too.
Mike’s flirtation with you that one night still pops in your head from time to time. You lied about having a boyfriend, thinking it was easier than being truthful. How do you even explain your secret desire to lose your virginity to mysterious bad boy Eren Jaeger? 
But with the deed done and Eren moving on, it’s time you do the same. Mike is always nice, respectful, and fun. Almost a complete opposite of cold, distant, and serious Eren. Tonight, you’ll flirt with the senior and tell him that you broke up with your boyfriend. Hopefully he still finds you cute, and if not, you’ll find another Alpha Tau brother to hook up with. And with some sexual experience gained from your one-night stand, you can flirt with more confidence than ever before. It’ll be good. You can set yourself on the right track now, forgetting about your slight detour with Eren. Forgetting him completely to focus on finding a nice guy who will treat you right. 
Once all your batches of cookies are baked, you and Mikasa pack up and deliver them to the Sigma Nu Kappa house before heading to dinner at the dining hall. You run into Annie and Hitch outside the house, inviting them to tag along. 
As you all eat your meal together, chatting away about sorority life and trivial gossip, Hitch mentions, “I might be a little late to the bake sale tomorrow. Please, please, please save me some of your best desserts!”
“It’s first come, first serve, loser,” Annie comments. “Not our fault you’re going to the beach with Asshole 1 and Asshole 2.”
“Where are you going?”
Hitch answers, “Sandra is dragging me to the beach with some of the Alpha Tau’s.” She gives Annie and Mikasa a guilty look before continuing, “I’m going with Reiner, Bertolt, and Eren.”
Annie rolls her eyes. Mikasa stares down at her salad. You try to maintain a neutral expression. 
“Yup. Hitch here is going to the beach with the only Alpha Tau brothers who didn’t help us with our event.”
“I had no idea they didn’t contribute!”
“You have nothing to feel guilty about. Annie is just giving you a hard time,” you console her.
“Of course I’m giving her a hard time. Reiner is a fucking asshole. And Eren is a fuck boy.”
“Hey!” Mikasa snaps, glaring at her.
Annie scoffs. “Seriously, Mikasa? Still defending your precious childhood friend? Admit it. He’s a dick.”
“Stop it, Annie,” you try to mediate. 
“What? He was an asshole to you. He didn’t even apologize.”
“It doesn’t matter, it wasn’t a big deal. Also, you started it,” you tease.
“I knew you were going to throw that it my face,” she says, flicking a crouton at you. 
Mikasa continues to look down at her food, not offering anything to the conversation about her best friend. Deciding it was best for the whole group to move on from this discussion, you change the subject to something else and Eren isn’t mentioned again the rest of the dinner. 
That night, both you and Mikasa already in bed, you hear her shift around to call out your name. You turn to face her, surprised that she’s still awake. 
“Do you think Annie was being serious when she said Eren is a fuck boy?”
Shit. How do you respond to that? Knowing fully well that he’s fucked you? You hate lying to Mikasa, but you hate it more thinking about how she’d react if you told her the truth. 
“I don’t know. I don’t know really know him.” This is actually true. You have no idea what Eren does or even who Eren does, aside from you. Everything about him is a mystery, which might be the reason you’re so drawn into him. But it’s also the reason you’re weary of him.
“But have you heard anything? Like from Hitch or anyone else from the other sororities?” She sounds concerned.
“I haven’t heard anything, no. But so what if he is? It’s college, we should be experimenting, as long as we’re safe. Right?” You feel like you’re saying this more for yourself than for him.
“I get that. I’m not worried about that part of it. But for some reason, I’ve been getting this bad feeling. He seems so cold and distant these days. It’s not like him. I just don’t want him to hurt anyone.”
“Hurt?”
“I know he won’t physically hurt someone. But I don’t know. He can get intense sometimes. He’ll do whatever it takes to get what he wants, and sometimes he doesn’t think about how his actions can hurt people. He can be a little selfish.”
Why is she telling you this? This feels too personal, too real. Too relevant for your current situation. It’s like she’s talking directly to your soul. Warning you. 
“I’m just thinking out loud. I know you don’t know really know him. Sometimes I wish you could have met him before all of this. You would see how great of a person he can be.” She turns to lay on her back, gazing up at the ceiling. 
You give her a sympathetic look, even though she can’t see you in the dark. There isn’t anything you can say to make her feel better. It sounds like she just wants someone to listen. 
She mourns her friend as if he’s completely disappeared and become a new person. A bad person. Someone who hurts people. Sure, he’s said some unpleasant things to you the night you first met. But has he ever hurtyou? There aren’t enough feelings involved to get hurt. You both went into this knowing it was just sex. Nothing more. 
But there’s always that tiny, miniscule part of your brain that nags you. Reminds you how fucking good he makes you feel. No matter how many times you tell yourself it’s just sex, you can’t help wishing it was something more. 
After a few silent minutes pass, you hear her snore lightly, drifting off to sleep. Leaving you wide awake with new thoughts running through your head. 
How can someone who makes you feel so good hurt you?
~~~ 
Saturday morning, Eren is smushed in the backseat of a Honda Civic with Hitch and Sandra. Reiner rides shotgun while Bertolt drives them an hour away to the beach. 
It was Reiner’s idea to have a beach day with the two Eta Iota’s. He used this as an excuse to get out of helping Sigma Nu Kappa with their charity event. A pretty shitty thing for him to do, but unsurprising, nonetheless. 
And Eren is no different, agreeing to go with them. 
Halfway to their destination, Hitch starts talking about the bake sale. “Annie baked banana bread for today’s event. It smells so good. Can’t wait to try it later. I’m sure you would like it, Bertolt.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snaps, eyes still focused forward, fingers clenching the steering wheel a little tighter.
“I’m just saying. I think you’d like Annie’s dessert.”
Reiner rolls his eyes. “Give it a rest, Hitch. He’s over her. It was just a childhood crush. Besides, Bertolt can do so much better than a Sigma Nu Kappa.”
“Hey! They’re nice girls,” Hitch argues.
“Yeah, they are. I don’t know why you hate them so much,” Sandra chimes in.
“Girls like that don’t belong in a sorority. They’re losers. It’s pathetic how cool they think they are just because they’re friends with a couple of Alpha Tau’s now. If that whole shitstorm didn’t happen to us last semester, nobody would even be paying attention to them.”
Sandra and Hitch glare at the back of Reiner’s head, but don’t respond to his rant. Instead, Hitch turns to Eren and asks, “You like the SNKs, right Eren? Mikasa told me you two have known each other since you were kids.”
Eren strategically ignores her first question and questions, “How do you know Mikasa?”
“I met most of the girls during recruitment, but Mikasa and I started seeing each other in the same kickboxing class at the gym. I also hang out with her roommate.” She states her name, then continues. “We all eat dinner together sometimes.”
Eren’s chest tightens at the mention of her. He’s not sure why. He cracks open the window to get a whiff of fresh air, wondering where she is right now and what she’s doing. She’s probably baking something for their event later today. There’s a pang of guilt in his stomach, realizing he never bought a ticket and will miss it. Miss her. He wouldn’t have minded seeing her tonight and getting a taste of her dessert. 
He's reminded of their time together two weeks ago. The morning after, she snuck out of his room without a word. Not even a note. He wanted to make sure she was okay. That she didn’t have any regrets choosing him to lose her virginity too. But he pretended to still be asleep when he heard her get up. 
Since then, he’s spent all of the last two weeks trying not to think about her. He did what he wanted to do. Got it out of his system. But for some reason, she still occupies his mind. 
He keeps telling himself that he’ll eventually find someone else to hook up with and forget all about her. But every time he’s with other women, whether it’s the Eta Iota’s or the Delta Mu’s, his mind always goes back to her. And whenever he sees her, he loses it. He wants nothing more than to feel her all over him, be all over her. Make her feel good. Make himself feel good. 
This isn’t how it’s supposed to be. He’s not supposed to catch feelings for the first girl he has sex with in college. After the most boring freshman year, Eren was determined to turn his life around. All summer, he worked out, telling himself it was for health reasons when really, he just wanted to look better to attract women. It was all planned out: He’d join a frat to follow his older brother’s lifestyle: Party, drink, fuck, repeat. He’d be free to do whatever he wants, whoever he wants, whenever he wants. 
Then he met her. 
And now, she’s ruining everything. 
How can he live out this fuck boy dream of his when his mind is always stuck on her? It’s an unexpected snag in his plans and he doesn’t like it. He needs to do something about it. Skipping the bake sale is a start. The main goal is to avoid her at all costs. 
But is that really a good idea? She’s the only girl he knows that’s so eager to please him. Why should he let someone like that go? There’s no doubt that their sexual chemistry is unmatched. What’s wrong with keeping her around until he finds someone else? 
They spend the next few hours at the beach, enjoying the sun and sand. Eren pretends he’s having fun, when in reality, he’s thinking of all the ways to avoid her and to have her all at once. He’s torn; both sides of his brain playing tug-of-war with each other, neither side any closer to winning.
How can he have her and not have her all at the same time?
~~~
The bake sale is a massive success. Numbers are double than all previous years, all credit going to Sigma Nu Kappa’s partnership with Alpha Tau. Besides the ticket sales, the brothers help by offering the kitchen at their fraternity house for some of the sisters to bake. Mike even offers his party house, which a few took advantage of. During the event, the Alpha Tau’s also help distribute the sweets to the attendees, including Hitch, who arrives late, but is excited to try out as many desserts as possible. You try your best not to pester about her about the beach date with Eren. She doesn’t give you much, only reiterating Annie’s sentiments of Reiner from last night’s dinner. “Yeah, Reiner is an asshole.”
During cleanup, Mike makes an announcement that he’s hosting a party at his place to celebrate the end of the event. You make it your mission tonight to flirt with him, maybe even kiss. Anything to take your mind off of Eren. 
You and Mikasa head back to your room to shower and get ready. She leaves early to meet Jean before the party. For the first time, you’re heading out alone. 
Even with Mike’s party being the only plans you have, you still shove the small bag of cookies into your purse. Just in case. If anything, you can give it to someone else and pretend you aren’t thinking about Eren. You know you’re not going to see him. He’s probably going to another Eta Iota party to fuck some other girl. But there’s still that pathetic, hopeless part of you that wishes you would see him. 
As you walk across campus, taking the usual route to Mike’s house, you pass by Eren’s dormitory. The memory of him literally dragging you here in a hurry pops up in your head. Every little thing reminds you of him. You have to stop. 
Lost in your thoughts, you don’t notice him approaching until he’s right in front of you.
~~~
“Hey,” Eren greets. He’s in his black sweats and a grey t-shirt, sweat marks down his chest from the workout he just completed at the gym. He wasn’t expecting to see her tonight. There’s that weird tightness in his chest again. “What are you doing here?”
She looks flustered, explaining, “I was just passing by. I’m heading to Mike’s right now.”
Mike. Fuck that guy. “Were you waiting for me or something?”
This startles her. “What? No. I just…I got distracted. I didn’t even know you were here. I thought maybe you’d be at another party or something.”
“Nah. Just got back from the gym. Probably just gonna stay in tonight.” He sits at a nearby bench, waving her over to follow.
She does, sitting a safe distance apart. “We raised a decent amount of money today. In case you were wondering.”
“That’s good. I’m sorry I couldn’t make it.” Shit. Why is he apologizing? He should head up to his room and stop this. Let her go to fucking Mike’s party and leave him alone.
From her purse, she pulls out a small plastic bag of cookies, offering it to him. “Mikasa said you don’t like sweets. But I saved you some just in case you want to try.”
It’s true; he’s not a big fan of desserts. But to be offered it is still nice. Especially from her. He almost feels touched that she thought of him enough to save this for him. “Were you hoping to see me today?”
“It crossed my mind, yeah.” She gazes down, embarrassed, setting the bag of treats on her lap. It’s silent for a few moments. He studies her, unsure what’s going on in that cute head of hers. His resolve is wavering. He needs to go upstairs now.
“Hitch told me you all went to the beach today. Sounds like fun,” she says, smiling. Fuck, she’s cute. That smile is so fucking cute. 
“It was okay.” 
He pauses, debating with himself. If he says it, it’s over. 
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”
Her eyes widen, shocked by his statement. “Huh?” she blurts out.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you,” he repeats, with more confidence. 
“Why were you thinking about me?”
“I don’t know. You’re on my mind a lot these days.” He decides to just let all his intrusive thoughts flow out, not wanting to lie or pretend anymore. More than anything, he wants to be with her again. Have her under him. Have her in his room upstairs right now. 
“I thought you didn’t find me interesting enough.” There’s a coy grin on her face. 
“I’ve changed my mind. I think you’re very interesting.” He scoots towards her, his pinky grazing her hand as he leans in closer, lips tickling the shell of her ear. “I want a taste of your cookie.” 
He presses soft kisses along her neck, his hand sliding across her thigh. “I’m really craving it right now,” he purrs, his fingertips dangerously close to her clothed pussy. 
“Eren,” she breathes out, turning her head to him to kiss him on the lips. He fucking loves it when she says his name all breathy like this. He smirks, sliding his tongue inside her mouth. He’s too far gone to pull back, so he doesn’t. He’s going for it. Fuck it. If this is a sinking ship, he’ll happily go down with it.
“Skip the party. Come over to my room. We’ll have our own fun, just the two of us,” he tells her. Voice low, enticing, dripping with lust. He’s doing everything he can to convince her. And it’s working.
She kisses him back, mouth open and eager, so fucking eager. He grabs her by the wrist and leads her upstairs into the room, déjà vu from the last time they were together. Once inside, they stumble towards to the bed, where she immediately sits herself down at the edge, waiting obediently for his next command. 
“I’m all sweaty. Can you wait for me while I take a quick shower? I promise I’ll be fast.” He strips his shirt off, sweat glistening on his chest and abdomen. She nods lazily at his question, distracted by his bare body. “You’re staring,” he teases her. 
She swallows loud before responding, “I can’t help it. You’re so sexy right now.”
Fuck. He can’t help but let any praise that comes out of her mouth go straight to his head, and his dick. He walks to her, hands at her sides, leaning in close. She looks so vulnerable as he looms over her, his gaze almost threatening. The smell of his sweat and musk is heavy in the small space between them.
In a hushed voice, he asks, “Can you do me a favor while I’m gone?” 
She nods dumbly again, hypnotized by whatever sexual energy he’s emanating. 
He bows his head, lips skimming her ear gently, whispering, “Touch yourself. Make yourself come. I don’t care how you do it. I just need you to be so fucking wet that I can drown in that pretty pussy as soon as I come back. You understand?” 
“Fuck,” she moans, sounding so desperate and needy for him. It’s torture for her as much as it is for him, but he knows it’ll be worth it. 
“Don’t skimp out on me, okay? You better be fucking soaked when I come back. I’ll punish you if you’re not,” he warns her. He kisses her cheek before pulling away to toss a towel over his shoulder and walk out the door, leaving her alone in the room. 
~~~
You’re already aching for his return. Not wasting another second, you lay back and remove your pants, keeping your underwear on. Sure enough, you’re already wet, a damp spot forming on your panties from your slick. With Eren’s naughty favor being your focus, you spread out your thighs, fingers reaching down to rub small circles on your clit. You feel torn between fulfilling his request or seeing what punishment he has in store for you if you don’t. Either way, thinking of him makes you horny as you continue to pleasure yourself on his bedsheets, waiting for him to come back. 
After a few agonizing minutes, you hear the handle turn slowly. He walks in, wet hair wrapped in a messy bun, towel tied to his waist, and small droplets of water shimmering on his skin. You don’t stop; your middle finger slides up and down your folds, gathering slick from your entrance to spread around your puffy clit. He bites his lower lip while he observes you, removing the towel from his body to reveal his already erect cock. 
“I knew you could do it,” he praises, stepping towards the edge of the bed. “Keep playing with it. Let me watch.” He pulls your panties to the side to expose your dripping cunt.
You touch yourself faster, flustered by the wet sounds coming from your arousal. It only seems to rile him up, his eyes hyper focused on your slippery fingers caressing your bud, huffing out demands at you. “Faster. Play with it faster, baby.” You feel his hot breath on your skin, teasing you, turning you on. After a few minutes, he stops you. 
“It’s my turn now.”
He kneels onto the bed, positioning himself between your legs, staring at your clothed pussy. “Look how drenched your panties are. Didn’t even bother taking them off.” Hooking his thumbs under the sides, he slides them off your legs. Instead of tossing them to the floor, like you expect, he wraps it around his hard cock and strokes himself with it. You sit up on your elbows to get a better view. 
“I like having your cute panties on my dick like this. Makes me so fucking horny,” he moans, jerking himself rapidly. “But you know what makes me really fucking horny?”
“What?” you ask, voice breathless and pussy throbbing as you anticipate his answer. 
“Eating you out. Tasting your cum on my tongue.”
You moan, collapsing back onto the bed, his face pressed to your pussy, planting small kisses onto your clit. It sends electricity all the way down to your toes. His kisses deepen, mouth open and lapping away at your bud hastily. You feel his tongue swirl around you in the most delightful way, causing you to grind your hips against his face.
“That’s it, baby. You did such a good job, holy fuck. You hear how wet you are? So fucking wet for me.” He slobbers all over you, the squelching noises obscene and nasty from the way he moves against your clit. “Such a good fucking girl. Such a good fucking girl,” he chants, licking up and down, side to side. You hear him spit on you, using his tongue to spread his saliva all over your cunt, repeating it two more times. It’s so fucking nasty, so fucking good.
“Eren, fuck. I love it. I love it. Please don’t stop,” you beg, fully enraptured by him. For a split second, you’re worried about throwing that word around haphazardly, but you say it anyway.
“I love eating you out. Always taste so fucking good, fuck,” he murmurs, eyes closed as he indulges in your wetness. His face is buried between your legs, sucking and slurping every drop. You’re a moaning mess for him, the pleasure so surreal you almost forget where you are. The walls are thin; the neighbors must be hearing this. You reach for the pillow beside you to cover your mouth, only to have it snatched away from you in an instant. 
“Don’t fucking do that. I want to see your pretty face as I lick your pussy clean.” 
Something within you snaps. You feel a rush of euphoria ripple through your body as you orgasm on his tongue. You hear him moan into you, purring, “Yes, yes. Come all over my face, baby. Give it to me. Fuck.” 
You blackout for a few seconds, overstimulated and spent from the ecstasy. You’re brought back from your daze as soon as he’s beside you. That cocky smirk on his lips, glossy with your cum. He brushes the hair out of your face to cup your cheek, grazing your bottom lip with his thumb. Nothing is said between you two as you gaze at each other, eyes soft with passion, skin hot and prickly with desire. When your lips meet, the kisses are gentle and sweet, making you flutter below your belly. 
Before you know it, your body takes over and you’re on top of him, straddling his hips, his hard cock pinned beneath your pussy and is abdomen. You finally remove your blouse and unhook your bra, baring your breasts to him. He looks up at you, eyes wide with arousal as he slides his hands to your hips. “You gonna ride me till I come, baby? Gonna let me fill your cunt up with my load?”
This is the nastiest he’s ever been with you. It makes you dumb, reckless, and thoughtless. “I want it, baby. I want to feel you come inside me,” you whine, moving your plush folds along his shaft. 
“Then do it. It’s okay. I’m clean. I haven’t touched anyone else. Only you,” he says, caressing your hips as you grind against him. 
Processing what he said, you reveal to him, “I’m on birth control.”
At those words, his soft expression turns naughty. “Good girl.”
Even if you weren’t on birth control, you’re certain you would still let him hit it raw. Which is irresponsible, you know that. But right now, you’re so fucked up and brainless for him that you don’t care.
You lift yourself off him to position his tip at your entrance, guiding it in gently as you sink onto his shaft. It’s tight, but it slides in smoothly, pussy sleek from your climax. He sucks in a breath as you take all of him in. 
Taking a few seconds to adjust to his length, you lean over him, placing a tender kiss on his lips. You start to rock your hips back and forth, riding him, making his cock disappear inside your pussy with each thrust. The grip on your hips tightens as he growls, “Fuck, baby. Just like that. Do it just like that. Good girl. Good fucking girl.”
The praise encourages you to pick up your pace, ass bouncing and tits jiggling like a fucking pornstar. He’s letting you be in control this time.
“Yeah, fuck yourself on my cock. Fuck yourself on my cock, baby. Use me like your fucking sex toy. Use this fucking cock,” he spits out, praise getting filthier, your pace getting faster.
Maybe you’re not in control. Every fucking one of his demands you do without a second thought. You’re doing everything he wants. He’s got you eating out of the palm of his hand.
You continue to bounce on his cock relentlessly, hitting your sweet spot over and over. The both of you moan into each other’s mouths, exchanging sloppy kisses, unconcerned about being heard by others. All that matters right now is that you both reach your high together.
He pulls away from your lips to breathe out, “Suck on my fingers, baby. Get them nice and wet for me.”
Without question, you keep your mouth open for him as he slides his fingers down your throat. Like an obedient slut, you suck on him, dragging your tongue and lips all over his hand. He whispers praises at you. “That’s a good girl. You always do such a good job for me.”
Satisfied, he slips his fingers out and reaches down to play with your clit. The unexpected contact causes you to cry out, “Fuck!”
He chuckles, rubbing against you as you ride his cock harder and faster. “Such a nasty slut, getting my fingers all wet so I can play with your clit.” With his free hand, he slaps your ass, the loud smack echoing off the walls. 
“You like being a slut for me, don’t you?” Another smack. “Say you’re my slut.”
“I’m your –“ a breath catches in your throat. “I’m your slut.”
“Say your daddy’s little slut.” Smack. You feel drunk, intoxicated by the way his cock pounds into you as he spanks you and stimulates your clit. Truly treating you like a slut. And you love it. You can’t get enough of it.
“I’m daddy’s little slut. I’m daddy’s little slut,” you whine, another orgasm quickly approaching. Mind empty and careless as you spew out whatever thoughts come to you. “I’m yours, Eren. I’m yours.” It slips out carelessly, but it doesn’t matter.
“Yes. Yes. You’re mine. You’re all mine. Fuck,” he moans, pumping into you faster, fingers ruthless against your swollen bud. “Come for me, baby. You can do it. Come for me.”
You let go, coating his cock with your cum as you ride out your orgasm with him inside you. Ecstasy overwhelms you, feeling both satisfied and drained, your body relaxing above him. 
The two of you start kissing again. He thrusts into you slowly, whispering, “I’m going to come inside you, okay? Is that okay, sweetie?”
Sweetie. You’ve never heard him be affectionate before. It’s unusual. It throws you off. It makes you feel warm and fuzzy all over your spent body. Nodding your head against him, you kiss him softly until he comes inside you after a few more deep thrusts. You feel his cock twitch, hot cum coating your insides. And if you weren’t already depleted from your most recent climax, you’re sure this would get you off again, feeling his load spill out of your fluttering pussy.
When he’s done, he slides out, lifting your hips up gingerly to move you to his side. His cum trickles out of you and onto his sheets. It’s dirty and erotic. The aftermath from a night of passion between you and him. 
This is the closest to cuddling the two of you have done, both exhausted and blissful in each other’s arms. He clears his throat before asking, “Was that good for you?”
“Yeah, it was.” You look down at the mess you made and giggle. “Obviously.”
He kisses your forehead. Another affectionate gesture that sends your synapses firing. “You’re not going to sneak out again, are you?”
“Huh?”
“You left last time without saying goodbye.”
He’s full of surprises today. You didn’t think he noticed nor cared that you snuck out that morning. “Oh. I…I wasn’t sure you’d want to see me in the morning. I thought it would be better to just leave.”
“You’re right. I wasn’t sure what I wanted at the time.” His hand massages small circles on your back. It’s relaxing. Comfortable. 
 “How about now? Do you know what you want now?”
“Yeah.” He pauses for a bit before saying, “I want you.” 
It’s sweet and romantic. It gives you butterflies in your stomach. It feels like a proper confession after so much build up, so much tension between the two of you. You feel your heart pounding, almost like it could burst out of you. You’re happy.
“But let’s keep this between you and me. I don’t want people knowing about us.”
And then, just like that, you feel a sinking feeling in your chest. Dread. “Oh. Why not?”
He shrugs. “I don’t really want people knowing my business. People talk. It’s annoying.”
My business. It’s not about you, not even about the two of you. It’s about him. Confused, and now slightly annoyed, you ask, “So you want people to think we’re just friends?”
“Not even that. Let’s just pretend we don’t know each other. Nobody will suspect anything.”
It feels like a slap to the face. Like the rug was pulled right from under you just when you started dancing on it. 
“It’ll be fun,” he adds, sensing your trepidation, an attempt at lightening the mood, making it seem like a silly game. 
You don’t respond, unsure how to. Maybe it’s not a big deal. You think back on the night he first kissed you. He said he didn’t like PDA. Is this the same thing? You find yourself making up as many excuses as you can to convince yourself that this isn’t all that bad.
“Hey.” He tips your head up to look at him. “It’ll be our little secret. Only we’ll know what we do with each other, no one else. Doesn’t that sound fun?” He caresses your bottom lip with his thumb.
You know it’s sketchy. Every fiber of your being is screaming at you. There’s another reason, a bigger reason, why he wants to keep this a secret. You know it, but you’re too chickenshit to confront him about it. Even too scared to admit it to yourself. Deep down, no matter how much you don’t want to believe it, Eren is embarrassed. Embarrassed of not being the fuck boy he had planned to be. Embarrassed of being associated with an unpopular sorority.
Embarrassed of you. 
But he’s got you wrapped around his finger; completely charmed by the luscious words he speaks and those striking green eyes that captivate your soul. You’re spellbound by him. Enchanted. Trapped. You’ve let him manipulate you into thinking you’re special. So special he wants to keep you a secret.
So, you agree. It’ll be fun. You’re fine with being his dirty little secret. 
Because having him behind closed doors is better than not having him at all. 
----------
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lokisprettygirl · 10 months
Text
Under his influence (Post Avengers! Loki x female reader)
Read chapter 23 here //Series Masterlist
Chapter 24
Summary : Are these dreams just coincidences or there's some truth to it? You were about to get all the answers.
Warning: 18+, gratuitous smut, soft Dom Loki, dirty talking, sub space if you squint, mention of stalking, mention of psychological torture, angst, insecurities, ptsd, self deprecating behaviour, panic attack, praise kink, soft precious bean loki,
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You stared at him for a moment as you tried to make sense of his words, how did he know? How did he know what had happened in your dream?
You remembered that day clear as today, you had approached Shawn and you told him why you were talking to him and he immediately went off as he called you a pervert and what not, once in a while the memory did prick your heart so you had just assumed that maybe seeing Loki instead of Shawn and having him treat you so nicely was the way for your brain to heal the hurt you still felt from that embarrassing ordeal.
Your mother proposed that you should spend the night there instead of going back to the hotel so you agreed and as you both reached the guest room you immediately locked the door and turned around to look at him
"How did you know? How do you know what happened in my dream?" He sighed as you said that and sat down on the bed.
"Come here" he tapped the side of the bed so you walked towards him but instead of sitting on the bed you climbed on his lap instead, your arms wrapped around his neck as you pecked him softly.
"This is going to sound very strange darling but I think we both had the same dream" you chuckled nervously as he said that.
"Are you messing with me?"
"I know it does seem like something i would do but i am not messing with you I promise"
"How is it possible?"
"I honestly have no clue but I think these weird dreams we have been having from past few days are not just coincidences. I fear there might be some truth to it, maybe it's something that was supposed to happen but a slight change in our paths diverted us from our destination"
"So that dream I had about Stephen.."
"It is possible that It may have been your reality elsewhere" you got off his lap as he said that.
"I don't understand..I'd never marry Stephen, this is all just a huge coincidence lo" he noticed how terrified you looked at the moment so he grabbed your arm and pulled you onto his lap again.
"It could be darling, it really could all just be a coincidence but it's still a substantial one don't you think? We would have met years before if I had come here the way me and Thor had planned" you looked at him shocked as he said that.
"What do you mean?"
"I was supposed to visit Midgard Along with Thor and the warriors three the same day you were at the fair with your sisters, you were supposed to meet me there" your eyes widened as he said that.
"Really you all had that awful bet with each other?" He cleared his throat as you questioned him.
"I am for certain not at all proud of my deeds in the past"
You smiled as he said that so he cupped your cheeks and pulled you closer to kiss you.
"But you really think you would have ..I mean…there were so many people at the fair, did you really notice me?"
"I told you I'd find you anywhere anytime" your eyes teared up as he said that.
"Are you saying that we were meant to be together? Soulmate type of stuff?" He let out a laugh as you said that.
"Not really, i do not believe in that –"
"Then what does it mean? What is all this about?"
"What I'm saying is that our paths were meant to collide, perhaps you were born to become mine someday precious y/n"
Okay that was a very sexy way to put in words.
"We could have met five years ago? Oh godddd" you got off his lap again as you realized that.
"Princess calm down"
"Noooo this is weird don't you see it? It's kind of creepy to be honest"
"It certainly is and I have no clue what I'm saying darling, maybe all these dreams are just a way to look into how our life had turned out if we made different decisions"
"Yeah that is possible, maybe it's just a coincidence"
He sighed as you said that.
"What?"
"Remember when I told you that I had a feeling there was another Stark the day I had escaped with the tesseract?" You nodded as he said that "and there were two Captains as well"
"Yesss what about it"
"What if they were from the future, from an alternate timeline "
"Ohhh God noo loki no"
"That would make sense, may be I was never to be in the possession of the tesseract, maybe I was supposed to go to Asgard and be prisoned for life"
"We wouldn't have met" he nodded as you said that.
"And we possibly didn't until–"
"Until what?"
"That party, your ex husband's birthday celebration where he had invited me"
"Why would I ever marry Stephen, he was rude and arrogant..it doesn't make any sense" you placed your hand on your forehead as you tried to make sense of these words.
"That is true"
"I don't want to think about it anymore it's scaring me" you sat down on his lap again and kissed him softly but it soon heated as he kissed you back with deeper intensity.
"Though I have to say it would have been amazing to meet you there, getting to spend my late twenties with you would have been blissful " your voice choked up as you mumbled against his mouth.
"I know sweetheart, it hurts to think of it now, perhaps if I had a companion such as you I never would have lost myself so tragically, perhaps instead of running away from who I was i would have run to you instead and i know deep down in my heart that you would have brought me back from the brink of the madness the way you have done in the past few months"
You hugged him tightly as he finished his words, he wasn't wrong. Maybe you two would have helped each other, several heartbreaks, several betrayals, all of those moments where you felt like giving up on everything, where living with yourself only got harder and harder, maybe you wouldn't have suffered so much if you had a friend like him in your life.
Yeah having him back then would have been a blessing but you were blessed to find him when you did, you were just glad that you did because if those dreams from the past are real then those dreams from the future must be what may have happened if Loki hadn't picked up the tesseract that day, you wouldn't have gotten the chance to see him or have him by your side for few more years, no you'd rather have this then whatever mess you had made out of your life. Marrying Stephen strange? What made you do that?.
Next morning Thor picked you both up and he dropped you both to New York at the Avengers towers since Loki had to be at a meeting. You wondered if you were going to travel via an airplane ever again. You did save time, money as well as the environment so it's not that you were complaining, just a thought you had.
"Just stay here and relax, I will return to you in an hour" he made you sit down on his bed as he said that.
"That's a long time what I'm going to do until then" you made a pout so he smiled, the mischievous smile on your face made him believe that you were teasing him.
"Hmm that is a huge problem" you smiled as he cupped your cheeks and leaned down to kiss you.
"It is, I'll just touch myself while you're gone" he gasped as you said that.
"Don't you dare do that"
"Are you telling me what to do?"
"Yes, and you're going to follow my commands like the good princess you are"
"We will see"
He shook his head before he made his way to the door, he turned around to look at you one more time and smiled before he left and then he was gone. His heart felt full, for once in his life he felt completely at peace.
You sighed and laid down on the bed but just to tease him further you pulled the straps of your dress lower and squeezed your arms to enhance your cleavage, clicking a naughty selfie you send it to him.
"You look lost, everything alright with lady y/n?" Thor asked him so Loki sighed. He knew he was going to come across as insane if he was to share the whole dream reality possibilities with anyone else.
"You adore her do you not?" Thor chuckled as Loki said that.
"You remember how we used to pretend that Lady Sif was our sister when we were childrens?" Loki smiled as he reminisced about his childhood.
"I do remember fairly well brother"
"I think I have found a real sister this time, so don't do anything that would make me lose her" Loki smiled and nodded in agreement, every woman he had ever been with in Asgard always salivated after his brother, there were plenty of times when they both slept with the same woman because she wanted Thor, you were the only woman he had ever known that picked a fight with his brother the first time they met, you always had your eyes on him only.
He knew he shouldn't have checked his phone in the middle of the meeting but he made the mistake and had an instant hard on, he could only see the curve of your bosom and even your full face wasn't visible but he saw your luscious plump lips and all he wanted to do was run to you and kiss you but he was stuck in a meeting instead.
When he went back to the room, he found you sleeping on the bed on your front, you made him wide awake and then went to sleep peacefully.
As you heard the door shutting you opened your eyes and looked at him, he waved his fingers and you noticed the bulge in his pants so you sat up.
"You know it's good for my ego that you find me so desirable" you crawled towards the edge of the bed and he closed the distance between you two.
"It's easier to hide the evidence of my arousal but it still pains me, I sat there for an hour just wanting to rub myself against you" you bit on your lips as he said that .
"Mmm can't you just magic away the pain or numb it?" You asked as you sat down on your knees and hooked your fingers around the loop of his pants to pull him closer, after unbuttoning him you pulled the zipper down, his eyes remained transfixed on your face.
"I certainly can, darling but what is the fun in that?"
"I have been dying to do this" his cock twitched at your words, your voice remained low and whispery. You wrapped your palms around his ass and pulled him closer to your face, his cock hit you right on the mouth.
He conjured a hair tie and you gasped at the beauty of it, it was thin and black but had studded beads decorating it, it wasn't ordinary, nothing about him was ordinary except you. He pulled your hair up in a ponytail and tied them with a band then he clutched them with his fist and pulled your hair slightly to make you look at him, leaning down he kissed you softly
"I love you, you will tell me even if you are feeling a smidgen of discomfort alright?" he murmured against your mouth and you squirmed on your spot. How did you get so lucky? How did you end up finding a man that loved you this way?
"Yess god"
"Is that how you're going to address me"
"Mmmhm do you like that?"
"Absolutely, i am your God darling"
His fingers scratched your scalp in a soothing manner as he kissed you, you unbuttoned his shirt so you could touch his bare skin, you planned to make this worth his time even though you had no experience in this department
"I have never done this before lo" you mumbled softly so he pulled away and looked at you,
"Never?"
"Noo i ..I never wanted to, never felt the need to do it" he smiled as you said that. A part of him was utterly revealed, he felt special that you had never pleased a man this way before.
"You will learn"
"Goddd you're sexy"
"Mmmm, do whatever you want to do darling" his voice was strict and commanding and you could feel yourself dripping, he was such a sweet baby sometimes that it always took you off guard whenever he shifted into this dominating mood.
You fisted his cock and gave him a stroke, his mouth opened and head rolled back as he let out a moan, your other hand caressed through his chest and then you moved them towards his ripped torso,
You laid his cock flat against his abs and kissed down from his shaft to the end of his balls, he mumbled a curse as you licked a stripe from bottom to the tip of his cock. Your hands grabbed his cheeks again and you pressed your face into his pelvis, the coarse hair rubbed against your face and tickled everywhere but you didn't care, you were too lost in his masculine intoxicating scent, the musk made you want to hump against him like an animal. The sight of you being so lost almost made him want to cum instantly. This was your fantasy and it was much more arousing than he had envisioned in his imagination.
The precum dripped from the tip of his cock so you licked it off before you sucked him in slowly, you knew you won't be able to swallow him completely, it was impossible. He was too big for your mouth and your gag reflex was sharp as hell
"You may have never done this before sweetheart but you sure know how to make me crumble so easily don't you?"
You smiled and kept your eyes on him as you sucked him in and out of your mouth slowly, your hands played with his balls and he seemed to be in heaven. As pulled him out, he looked down at you again, the naughty smirk on your face was damning, he pulled on your hair making you moan and wince all at once, pressing his thumb on your jaw he pulled your mouth open and pressed his cock inside your warmth.
He wasn't being harsh though, he was being very gentle as he fed you his cock, his hips jerked back and forth as he fucked your mouth slowly.
You squeezed on his thigh so he pulled out of you but instead of shoving his cock back in he immediately pulled you up slightly and kissed you as passionately as he could, he could taste himself on you.
"On your front sweet love" he mumbled softly so you laid down on your front, you felt his lips on your neck and then he unzipped your dress to lower the straps down but he didn't take it off, you felt him waving his fingers and a few seconds later you had his cock sliding in and out of your wetness.
"Mmmm i thought you'd come in my mouth dear God"
"Fuckkk darling i wasn't sure you wanted that" you whined as he said that. How could you not want to drink from him? You were utterly, intensely obsessed with him. Did he still doubt that?
"I am so thirsty for you, don't you see it? I'm so obsessed with you lo, you're my god and I'll let you do anything to me" You turned your head to look at him, your eyes were glassy as if you were high on drugs, he knew the look because he had been high with you before, you were getting drunk on him, he had never felt so turned on before.
He kissed you deeply before he pulled out of you.
"I love you so much princess.. I love you" he whispered softly before he turned you around and laid you on your back, he sat right above your face with his thighs wrapped around your shoulders.
"You wanted me to suffocate you hmm?" You moaned as he said that, you had never felt so horny in your life before, he made the condom disappear and then he shoved his cock into your mouth slowly, still being gentle as ever. You angled your head upwards as you flattened your tongue and felt him sliding in, placing his hands on the headboard he used them as an leverage to keep his weight proportioned so he wasn't crushing you, his hips bucked back and forth slowly as he made love to your mouth.
"Fuck yess darling, you're such a good subject for your god aren't you"
You would have answered him if your mouth wasn't so full of him, all your senses were closed off as he was the only thing you could smell, taste, see, hear and feel around you. This is exactly what you wanted and now that you had it you felt transcended into some other dimension.
Your hands wrapped around his ass and you gave him a squeeze, he pulled out of your mouth and you watched his fist wrap around his own cock, it always felt extremely erotic whenever he was touching himself and pleasing himself for you.
You took a deep breath as the sight saturated you, you couldn't even look at him at the moment, you felt so dirty but not in a bad way. Millions of thoughts were running in your head, he was your best friend, he was the guy that had cuddled you like a baby that first night, he was the love of your life and you just felt overwhelmed that this was even happening to you, that you had actually gotten so lucky just because he picked up that cube.
"Open up princess, drink every little drop" he grunted loudly as he came hard aiming it right into your wanting mouth and the moment you had a taste of his cum you just knew you were ruined forever, there would be no returning from this, you'd be his slave forever if he'd ask you to be.
You swallowed every last drop that he had blessed you with. He took a few seconds before you felt him step away from your face and he immediately had your legs wrapped around him, you gasped as you felt him sliding in again and he picked up a fast rhythm because he knew you were feeling overwhelmed.
"Lokiii lokiii…oh lokii" he looked at you as you chanted his name like a prayer, you seemed so out of your mind and he would be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the sight of you being so mindless. You moaned his name over and over again as you came around him soon after, not much stimulation was required after his gratuitous display of domination.
"Mmmm lokii god please don't leave me" you whimpered so he cupped your cheeks and kissed you softly.
"Shhhh darling I'm right here..right here"
"You would leave" your eyes teared up so he shook his head,
"Never, you are mine for eternity and I am yours" your arms wrapped around his neck as you pulled him into an embrace, your mind felt hazy, you didn't even when he had picked you up but you got back to your senses you found yourself sitting between his legs in a bathtub few moments later.
You quickly turned around and wrapped your arms around his neck.
"What happened?" He smiled as you said that.
"You must have gotten overwhelmed my darling"
"I lose all the filters with you in bed"
"Ohhhh" he kissed you softly as you mumbled
"We need a safeword, you are kinkier than i anticipated" you chuckled as he said that.
"Mmhm and i enjoy that thoroughly, but I just want to keep you safe my sweet little princess, I'd never forgive myself if I was to hurt you "
"You could never hurt me lo i promise but I understand..I'd like a safeword too so I'm not hurting you…how about tesseract?"
He smiled as you said that.
"Perfect"
You felt ravenous after that intense workout so he took you to the kitchen area, that's where you both bumped into Darcy and you felt extremely awkward around her.
"Haven't seen you in a week Darcy, everything alright?" He asked her so she smiled.
"Yeah buddy..it's all good, I am just busy with my thesis" he nodded as she said that.
"Need help?" He smiled as he questioned and she sighed.
"No I'm almost done..see you later" she walked out after that and you noticed the worried look on his face so you caressed his arm in a comforting manner.
"She likes you" he looked at you surprised as if he could never believe that he was being thirsted after by so many people.
"What do you mean?"
"You know what I mean lo" he seemed worried as you said that.
"No, I never gave her a reason to do so, have I led her on?" You wrapped your arms around his waist as he said that.
"Nooo ..lo you don't lead people on, they just fall in love with you like I did, it's not that hard really"
"Well to be completely truthful I was trying to make you fall for me" you chuckled as he said that.
"Just…talk to her later okay? I know you like her ..as a friend " he nodded as you said that.
"You are still my best friend, you know that right?"
"Mmhmm"
Later that night Thor dropped you back at your apartment as loki had to be at a mission but just half an hour later you heard the knock on the door so you looked via the peephole and it was Loki.
"What are you doing here lo?" You smiled widely as you opened the door "Is this a new attire? Never seen it before" you asked him as you noticed the blue Asgardian leather attire he had on, it even had a large cape around the back, you had come to recognise the look of the Asgardian leather at least. But his attire wasn't the only thing different about him, his hair looked different as well.
"Is something wrong?" You asked him as you noticed the pale look on his face, his eyes were teary and he seemed as if he had seen a ghost.
You took a step back as something felt off about him, you could just feel it in your gut.
"You're not my loki are you?"
"No..but you're not my y/n either"
You took several steps behind you and your eyes welled up, you felt terrified. That's when Stephen appeared next to him. He had a costume on as well, you didn't understand what was happening but you knew none of this could be good. Stephen stepped towards you as he smiled.
"Good to see you again Y/n Y/l/n, I am Doctor Stephen strange, the sorcerer supreme, the protector of the Sanctum Santorum, we need to have a little chat"
👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀👀
Note : You guys are going to get alot of the answers in the next chapter
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