#We work in the dark to serve the light my ASS.

[recreationalfanfics]

It's Jacob's world, we're all just living in it.

#HELP REPLAYING AC SYNDICATE AND THE FACT HE CRASHED THE ECONOMY. #HE'S SO STUPID I LOVE HIM. #AND THE FACT HE CRASHES A TRAIN ON HIS FIRST MISSION TOO. #LITERALLY WHEN HAS ANY OTHER ASSASSIN BEEN INTRODUCED W BIG FIERY EXPLOSION!? #We work in the dark to serve the light my ASS. #Jacob Frye #Assassin's Creed

[teaboot]

One of the best parts about working at a sex shop is the employee discount, and yeah that means excellent deals on sex supplies but that's not the big brain part.

You come to my house. Something is cooking in the kitchen- it smells wonderful. What is it? It's novelty dick-shaped pasta. I've set up a sensual sexy Italian dinner. There are candles set up on the table. They're melting too fast, dripping everywhere- they're low temp waxplay pillar candles. For dessert, I serve you a delicious ice cream topped in penis-shaped rainbow confetti sprinkles and strawberry body paint drizzle, and afterwards, serve coffee with roasted hazelnut warming lube.

We play a board game while we drink. It's sexy monopoly. It's your turn. You roll the dice. They come up as 'whisper into' and 'butt'. I lost the original dice. We're using the sexy dice. You move four spaces.

After dinner, I run you a bath. A bubble bath. The bubble gel? Sensual ocean breeze. There are candles lined up around the tub. The scent is overpowering. Why? They're three-in-one fruit flavored massage oil candles. I'm using so much. It's so wasteful. Do you want to shave? I have conditioning shave cream that smells like limes. And an electric body razor, but you can't use that in the tub.

How about a bath bomb? You toss one in. It's cherry blossom scented. As it dissolves, three sexy bath sex suggestion cards fall out. They're all variations on doggy style, probably because fucking in a bathtub is probably the easiest way to break your hip.

The water cools. You get out an dry off with a novelty towel. If you wrap it around your chest, it looks like you have gigantic tatas bursting through the fabric like the Hulk.

You walk into the bedroom. I'm there, reading an instructional book titled "The Housewife's Guide To Every Day Stripping". I'm wearing a neck pillow designed to look like a massive curved weiner. Also a pair of fake leather bondage leggings and an oversized men's christmas T-shirt that says "Jingle My Bells" across the front.

I see you come in. I put down the book, take off the pillow. Offer you a massage. You accept. I already burned up all the massage candles so I pop a new bottle of CBD massage oil that says something wrong about Chakras on it. It's very gritty. That's because there's little chunks of amethyst in it for some fucking reason. It's fine, though. You say you don't mind.

I don't do massages very often. It's bad. You end up more tense than before. One of your muscles starts to cramp- it's okay. I whip out a bottle of Lidocane topical masculine performance numbing spray. You immediately feel like your shoulder went to the dentist. It's not ideal, but it's better than cramping.

You're not in the mood to bone after that. Which is good, cause I'm actually pretty asexual, but it hasn't come up yet so I'm relieved to avoid the conversation. Instead we get ready for bed. (The weather is terrible, and I insist you stay over.) I set up the futon, then realize it smells like cigarettes from the previous owner and shyly ask if you wanna cuddle in my room. You're down.

I crawl under the covers, placing my penis-shaped pink glitter pride bottle on the side table in case one of us wakes up thirsty. Once you're settled in, I turn off the glowing bare ass night light and the room goes black.

It takes a few seconds for your eyes to adjust, but when they do, you look up at the ceiling. It's dotted all over with little green flourescent lights. Are they plastic stars? No. I've pinned up a thousand glow in the dark condoms. God bless

[peachesofteal]

Oh god - I’m still stuck on this.

18+ MDNI / explicit sex, dark and twisted themes

I've been thinking a lot about Simon Riley who doesn't want the divorce.

Simon who never wanted to be separated, who hates living apart. Simon, who would drag you to a tattoo artist to get your ring permanently inked to your skin so you could never be rid of him, if he could. He’s been actively avoiding the stack of papers that are waiting for his signature, staying on longer Ops, picking up extra work.

Can’t be divorced if there’s no signature.

Simon, who unbeknownst to you, still comes home. Still pushes open the back door in the dead of night, keeping his steps silent so he doesn't wake you. Simon, who stands in the doorway of your bedroom, his old bedroom, and watches you sleep on his side of the bed in those little, ratty shorts with your ass perked up in the air like you're waiting for him. Like you’re ripe, and ready.

Simon, who checks your birth control every night. Who’s pleased when he realizes this month’s pack hasn’t even been opened, every color coded pill still in place, foil glinting at him in the low light of the vanity.

Good girl, he thinks to himself, shutting your medicine cabinet with a silent click. Getting yourself all ready for him.

Simon, who agrees to meet you for dinner.

"Let's just sign and get it over with. We can catch up, too. Talk about what we want to do with the house."

"Alright, love. Whatever you want."

You're a bundle of nerves when he shows up, seated at a little table in the back, glass of wine already half gone.

Normally, he'd try to soothe you. You've always been naturally anxious, a little dependent, and in a social setting, a little high strung. He's well versed in navigating your emotions, calming you into a relaxed state with a few words or a reassuring touch.

But this time, he doesn't bother. He sits there with his arms crossed, watching you nervously chatter away, one hand flat on a manilla envelope. He stays quiet, letting you go on, watching your hands seek something to do, fingers finding your wine glass over and over.

You drink two glasses of wine before the entrees are served, dangerously close to your usual self imposed "three drink" limit.

One thing bleeds into another. You start to lean a little, in your chair. He nurses a bourbon, you order a shot after the meal.

"Want one?" Your tongue follows the seam of the lime wedge, dabbing along the spongy, white fibers before your teeth sink into the flesh of it, lime juice squirting across your tongue.

“You know I don’t like tequila, but you go on.”

You’re a bit sloppy by the time he gets you home, but still sweet like honey, like you used to be years ago. Before everything changed. Before you asked him to move out.

You’re giggly, excited when he bends you over the kitchen table, the kitchen table where you used to eat together, breakfast for dinner when he’d come home, waffles and bacon at one in the morning.

You don’t protest when he slides your skirt down your hips and over your ass, thumbs spreading you wide to reveal your glistening cunt, twitching and desperate.

“My poor girl, has it been so long?” He cooed, relishing in the way you moaned with your lips on the wood. He knows it has, knows you haven’t been with anyone since the last time he fucked you, months and months ago, on the night you asked for the divorce. “Don’t worry, I’m gon’ take care of you and this neglected little pussy.”

“You have to pull out.” You slurred, breath hot, fogging against the finish of the table. “Promise.” He grunts something under his breath, nonsense, but you can’t tell the difference, and when he slides inside your scorching cunt, you howl, breath hitching with the stretch.

Bleedin’ Christ. You’re so tight, so wet, soaked enough that it sticks to the curls around the base of his cock. How could he ever give this up?

“That’s it.” He kisses your shoulder, pressing his chest to your back with his weight, pinning you in place, his hands clamping down around your wrists like shackles. “Squeeze me tight, good girl. Show me-“ Show me how you’re going to hold my come in your tight little pussy once I fill you- comes to mind, but he bites his tongue instead, not willing to tip you off too soon.

To have and to hold.

“Simooon.” You sing, hips start to push back with him, fucking yourself onto his cock, chasing him, chasing your pleasure, mouth half open with the little pants and whines that are music to his ears. He keeps you pinned, flat against the table, fingers between your legs, stroking your clit, shoving you closer to your orgasm, delightfully pleased by the way your pussy pulses around him.

“Come on.” He urges, big hand between you and the table, pressing against your lower belly, still tapping away at your clit, indulging in the trembling of your legs.

“Fuck- fuck, Si.” You cry, clenching down around him with your orgasm, voice breaking.

“There it is… what a good girl.” He hisses, keeping his pace, pushing deeper and deeper until he’s notching himself nearly inside your womb. It’s overwhelming for you, he knows, but he doesn’t stop swirling his fingers around your clit, zapping electric pulses through body.

“Nngh Si. Too- ooh it’s- it’s too much.” You wail, a tear on your cheek, and he nods, nosing above your ear.

“You’re doing so good for me, so perfect.” It’s whispered with a groan, hands stroking your hip, keeping your steady, in place. “Just need a little more, just- just a little, I’m gonna-“

“What-” You ask, more with it now that you recognize the edge he’s riding, the roughness in his voice clueing you in to where he is, but he sends you back into orbit, pressing your clit and working you in circles. “Oh, oh.” Your hips rock, and he moves with the momentum, fucking into you faster, grunting the truth as he speeds towards the cliff, desperate to drive the car over the edge, eager to change the course of his life, your life, his marriage.

“Take it.” He spits, wide palm spread across your shoulder. Everything in him tightens, fire spreading through his veins, pressure rising in his body like a fucking tea kettle, about to scream out a whistle. He’s going to breed you, fuck you deep with his come and put a baby inside you, give you what you wanted years ago, the thing that made you cry alone in the middle of the night whenever he refused.

Well, he’s going to give it to you now.

“Fuck- here it comes.” You rock again, half lost to the world, eyes glazed over in pleasure, spasming around his cock with your second orgasm. He slams into you, burying deep and you keen, fingers gripping the edge of the table, his hips flush with yours like a lock.

And he’ll throw away the key.

His phone dings with a text, two days later.

“Still mad at you… Can we please meet up about these signatures?”

This became a full fic here.

#tw dark and twisty #tw forced pregnancy #🥞 anon #if you’re out there somewhere #this is for us #simon riley #simon riley x reader #I could write a whole fic #but I prob won’t #could prob be a sassy au honestly #peaches writes

[devilishchaos]

aventuras em Miami | Rúben Dias Imagine

Rating / genre: M (18+); filthy smut, fluff

Pairings: Reader x Rúben Dias

Summary: Y/N and Rúben go on a vacation with Rúben's friends, in Miami. Y/N surprises him with sex chocolate.

Warnings: Explicit smut, oral sex (f receiving), explicit talk, unprotected vaginal penetration (don't do it!!! stay safe!), hair grabbing, use of pet names "baby", "babe", size talk just for a sec

Word Count: 4 277 words

This is a work of fiction. The story, names, characters and incidents either are product or the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

The sunglasses that were once placed on top of your head, now sat on the bridge of your nose in order to block out the blazing rays of the sun on this record breaking, hot day in Miami. The sand underneath your feet felt soft, yet crunchy at the same time and very hot. A cool, light breeze had your hair blowing. The water was calm enough to be safe for those that wanted to play in the water, but still provided big enough waves for surfers to ride comfortably behind the scattered swimmers. In the sky there wasn’t a cloud in sight, which meant you were going to need help lathering sunscreen on your skin by your ever helpful and willing boyfriend - Rúben. 

Speaking of Rúben - him, Ivan and their two friends, Nuno and João, were currently riding jets in the middle of the ocean, so you used the opportunity to go explore the shop that caught your attention while you guys were making your way to the beach. A sex shop. Exciting. 

A red haired woman, approximately your age, looks up from the counter at the tinkling of the bell, signifying someone coming into the store. 

“Um, hello..“ you say timidly. 

“Can I help you?” she asks pleasantly, seeing you glance around the shop at all the various dildos and sex toys.

“I was wondering what these chocolates do..those over there..“ you pointed to the chocolate pieces, placed in front of the window, next to the front door. 

“Do you know what you’re looking for specifically?” 

“Mmm..not really.” you shake your head, “I’ve never used one. I want to surprise my boyfriend.” 

“Alright. Good choice by the way.” she smiled and pulled out, from underneath the till, a tray with said chocolates on display. “So this is pleasure-boosting dark chocolate with high-quality natural ingredients to increase your sex performance. It stimulates blood flow, enhances performance and increases sex drive. Consists of 60% dark chocolate, epimedium, maca root and DHEA. One block consists of two servings - one for you and one for your partner. You take it, wait 30 minutes and enjoy your time.” 

“I’ll take a pack, please.” you were really intrigued at this point. 

The employee wrapped it up nicely for you “Have fun.” 

“Thank you. Have a great day.” you smiled and made your way back to the beach. 

*

You were back at the hotel and were currently getting ready to go to dinner. 

“What did you do while we were jet riding?” Rúben asked you as he was coming out of the bathroom. 

“Umm..” you played with your earrings “I..got us..something.” you turned around to face him as he was putting his watch on his wrist. 

“You got us something?” Rúben looked at you puzzled. “And what is it?” 

“Chocolate.” you hold up the package for him to see. 

Rúben frowns, far away enough to not be able to read the words on the front “I could have bought you Reese's cups or something.” 

“This is not..It’s a different kind of chocolate..” you grin wickedly “..have you heard of tabs chocolate?” 

“Are they that fancy ass company that charges, like, $60 per bar?” Rúben puts his wallet in his pant’s pocket. 

“No.” you laugh “These have aphrodisiacs in them.”

“Aphrodisiacs?” your boyfriend hums with a furrowed brow “Isn’t that-?”

“It’s sex chocolate.” you finally reveal your secret to him “You up for a bit more exercise today?” 

“Sex-ercise you mean?” Rúben rushes to your side with a shit-eating grin, far too proud of his shitty joke. He's grabbing for the chocolates but you snatch them away, giggling. 

“We take them now and have to wait like 30 min, for it to kick in.” 

“Oh, spicy!” he laughs, tugging the box out of your hands, and scanning the cover “You want to take these now? See who can last longer without touching the other?” 

“How strong can this little square be?” you grumble, snatching the little foil squares from their places “Okay, break..” you snap the square in two “..bite..” you hold Rúben’s portion out for him, letting him take it from your hand. His trimmed beard prickles against your skin and you bite back a giggle, stuffing your mouth with chocolate instead. 

The chocolate is savory and bitter on your tongue, with just the right amount of sugar. You don’t get to swallow the chocolate and finish their signature slogan before Rúben has wolfed down his bar, tossing the package on the side table and surging for your lips “..bang.”

The kiss he drags you into nearly buckles your knees. It’s intense and hot, the chocolate coating his tongue and his fingers that dig into your waist as he tugs you closer, making it hard for you to breathe. 

“Mmf..Rúben!” you gasp, dragging in a lungful of air that he’d practically stolen from you with that kiss. He’s eager to touch you, to feel you, to taste you as his lips never part from your skin, dragging down your neck, to the spot just under your jaw that makes your stomach tingly. 

“Let’s get going or we will be late.” and with that you were up for an exciting evening. 

*

Dinner was absolute torture. 

Rúben always looks good in your eyes, but tonight he somehow looked even better. His sun kissed skin, peeking out from underneath his light blue shirt, made your head spin. His hand on your thigh seemed to leave a burnt imprint on your delicate skin. The air seemed to not be enough, no matter that you were seated outside. 

“How strong can this little square be?” my ass. You were currently beating yourself up internally as you were all seated in the V.I.P section in one of the most popular Miami nightclubs, a U-shaped couch with a table in the middle and then a small section in front of it for people to dance and mingle. You were sitting in the corner with Rúben, his arm around your shoulders as you both tried to seem relaxed. You had to admit, with uni and the internship and Rúben’s busy schedule, you didn't really get to spend much quality time with each other. So this vacation was more than welcomed. 

You were currently 3 drinks and 5 shots deep, laughing at something Ivan and Nuno were bickering over, when Rúben’s face suddenly got closer to yours as he whispered in your ear.

“I'm gonna go to the bathroom.”

“Okay.” you shot him a smile and pecked his lips quickly before he got up and left the area. You were kind of disappointed honestly, because you expected him to have broken your guy’s agreement two hours ago. 

“Come on, let's do some more shots.” you yelled over the music. Ivan grabbed the bottle of alcohol from the table and lined you both up with two shots each. 

“You guys are crazy, man.” Nuno shook his head. 

When Rúben returned, he found you and Ivan hysterically laughing, the half filled bottle of alcohol he'd left you with was now empty and a waitress was placing another bottle on the table. Rúben smirked to himself as he stepped closer to you and Ivan. 

“Hi, baby.” you rushed over to Rúben, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” he grinned as you nodded, you both shared a sloppy kiss before you went back to dance with Ivan. 

Rúben mingled with his friends, spoke to a few people and was enjoying his evening as well when you plopped yourself down next to him, his hand naturally falling onto your thigh as you wrapped one arm around his forearm. 

“You okay, meu amor?” he turned to look at you, your head resting on his shoulder and your eyes closed. 

“You look so good right now..” you lured yourself into his lap. Lightly grabbing you by the neck Rúben pulled you into a kiss. 

As the kiss went on, it got deeper and more needy. Rúben slowly trailed his kisses off of your lips, kissing down your neck to your shoulders. He had rotated you to the front, with your back facing him. He was rubbing all over your thighs while still kissing on your neck. 

Without any words, Rúben grabbed your hips and started grinding your ass on his lap to the rhythm of the song. You knew what he wanted you to do, so his moves soon became your own. You took over grinding yourself into his lap, moving your hips to the beat. You could feel him rubbing and smacking your ass, and you were glad that it was almost too dark into the club so pretty much nobody could see you two. Rúben was clearly turned on, you could feel his hard on under you, ever so slightly brushing against your heat at times, making you go absolutely crazy for him. 

At this point Rúben was ready to take you home. He reluctantly slid you out of his lap only for the fact that his friends were soon gonna be flooding back into the section. He draped both of your legs over one of his and you leaned in to kiss him one last time. 

“Take me home, Rúben.” you both smiled before excusing yourselves and leaving the club. 

Rúben held onto your body as he navigated you through the club, your feet hurting from the shoes you were wearing and it was making it impossible for either of you to get very far without you needing to stop. Once you got outside, Rúben sat you in the car and helped you take off your shoes. The car you were in was luxurious, the seats were ridiculously comfy, so you instantly relaxed into them, your legs stretching out so your feet were resting on Rúben's lap as he sat opposite you. 

Back at the hotel, you had barely put your bag on the counter before you were pushed into it, a gasp left your mouth as Rúben trapped you. Hands on your shoulders, hips pressed into your ass, firmly keeping you in place. 

“I can’t believe you made us take these damn chocolates. I already wanted to fuck when we got home from the beach.” His deep voice in my ear. 

“Yeah..” I whispered softly, gripping the counter. Your head fell against his shoulder, his hands running over your front as he trailed kisses from your cheek to your neck. 

“How am I supposed to keep my hands off of you, hm?” he hums, his breath hot and heavy against your neck. He sucks a patch of skin just to the left of your throat, one that makes you grab the counter even harder “You’re so fuckin’ sexy, don’t need a chocolate to think that.” 

“I want you so bad, babe..” you whine and you take his hand. It's rough and strong from all the hard work he puts in the gym. It curls around yours and you lead him to your bedroom, letting him sit on the edge of the bed while you slip your dress off, leaving you only in your panties in front of his wild wandering gaze. 

“Come here..” Rúben calls softly and you get closer to stand in front of him, in between his muscular thighs. 

When his large hands slide up your thighs, smoothing over the fabric of your panties, you inhale deeply. He gives you a few moments of silence and they’re anything but comfortable. Tension is thrumming through every vein in your body, concentrated on whatever shapes Rúben's palms were drawing on your skin. He massages your thighs, but his thumbs edge up the curve of your ass, closer to their target. His fingers knead and squeeze at the soft flesh of your inner thighs, paying special attention to the hypersensitive skin between your cunt and your thighs. When he ghosts his fingernail over the crease there and you clench your thighs together, he knows he’s got you. 

Rúben gets up from the bed, your innocent eyes follow his every move. He places his hands on your waist and with one swift move you are already laying on your back, on the bed, and he is hovering over you. The second your lips are in his line of sight, he’s on them. His own press enthusiastically to yours, a heavy pant released into your mouth as he braces his knees on the mattress. 

“I can't fucking take it anymore.” he groans, choking out his words in between kisses. His tongue is sloppy, licking up your own like he’s trying to swallow it. 

You’re having trouble focusing with his tongue lapping sensually at your own in smooth, eager strokes and his fingers skillfully pinching at your left nipple. When you jolt into his touch, your hips buck up and you feel his hard cock against your eager core, through his pants. 

Rúben hums approvingly into the kiss, parting with a sloppy trail of saliva and speaking hotly against your lips “So needy..gonna grind this pussy all over me?” 

“Ahh yes..fuck me Rúben. Please, fuck me..” you manage to breathe out he sucks harshly at the skin of your neck. You accentuate your words with another desperate roll of your hips, grinding your clothed cunt over his bulge. He's straining in the fabric of his boxers, a fact that makes your mouth water, and Rúben tears himself away from your neck to wrestle with his undergarments.

He knows you’re aching, burning with desire, because he is, too. His cock bounces free of his boxers and stands hard, angled towards his stomach and oozing pre-cum. It’s the most sexy sight you’ve ever taken in, you will never get tired of it. 

Rúben hisses as his thumb carasses against your panties, his fingers slip beneath the hemline. He feels your slick soaking through the fabric at the slightest pressure from his single finger, revealing just how wet you’ve gotten while waiting for him. 

“Oh my God, you’re dripping, meu amor.” Rúben groans, his voice thick and lustful as his face screws up in concentration, his sexy accent coming through. 

“R-Rúben, pleasee..” 

Rúben chuckled against the waistband of your panties, his hands hooked there and he pulled them down slowly, the material making your legs tingle from how gently Rúben removed them from you. He shifted further down the bed so that his head was right between your legs, and he leaned in closer and closer..you jumped when the cool tip of his nose brushed against your core and Rúben shushed you gently. The noise sent a vibration through you and you closed your eyes and allowed yourself to sink into the sound, finding comfort within the very person, who was making your blood sing in your veins. 

Rúben dived right in for a taste. He kissed your inner lips the way he usually kissed your mouth and you gasped, your hips arching up off the mattress to get closer to Rúben’s touches. He tested the waters with kitten licks, slow and careful, and he groaned at the taste of you. Like a switch had been flicked, Rúben’s hands curl around the plush flesh of your thighs so he could hold you open as he pressed his face into your folds, his tongue now beginning to explore your folds with a heated passion unlike anything you had ever experienced. You couldn’t help but to squeeze your thighs around Rúben’s head and the man groaned yet again, the sound sent another shockwave through your core. 

“Ohh..Rú- Rúbenn..” his name fell from your parted lips like a prayer, as your pleasure heightened. You could feel the mattress beneath you moving as Rúben rutted into it at the same pace that his tongue moved against your core. 

“Ah, baby..” you gasp, face pinched in half ecstasy, half dread as he sucks at your clit “..please, no..I’m gonna- I’m gonna cum!”

“Do it.” he urges, tongue licking a long, wet, slick stripe up your cunt before diving back between your folds “Cum on my face, baby. Come on, give it to me.”

“No. Want- I want to cum..with you inside of me..please..I need- need your dick!” you reach for his face, sitting up in your pleasured haze. 

“You can have it.” he promises, fingers coming to bully your puffy clit while he focuses his tongue on your vagina “Later.” 

His nose rubbed against your clit with every movement, his hips stuttering now, the rhythm of his mouth broken, but desperate, and the coil within your stomach tightened. Your thighs clenched, your core did the same around nothing and that coil within you snapped. Your orgasm crashed over you, through you, like a tidal wave and for just a moment - your mind, body and soul all merged together and you saw stars. 

Rúben is eager to continue even when you’ve finished, licking and sucking desperately at your sensitive pussy. It feels good, but you’re almost too sensitive already and you’re not waiting another second for his cock. 

“No, no..I want- “ Rúben doesn’t let you tell him what you want - he doesn’t have to, he already knows. He knows what you really want is in between his legs, so he surges forward, locking his lips with yours and using the momentum to lay you back down onto the mattress. 

“Oh, fuck..” you breathe, feeling his cock nudge at your sensitive cunt immediately “..fuck me, babe, plea-” he slams into you with no hesitation, hips on a mission to fuse with your own as he rams his cock into you. The rhythm is relentless, more desperate than you’ve ever felt him before, and you clutch at his broad shoulders as he buries his face in your shoulder. 

“Fuck.” he huffs, a grunting, groaning mess “Ugh..you feel so good. Oh, God.” he pants, mouth falling open and tongue flattening against your neck, swiping up over your jaw. His mouth latches there, sucking harshly just beneath your ear at the curve of your jaw. His hips drive the same steady pace into you, filling you up impossibly deep with each pump of his cock. His dick so hot and mind-numbingly hard, probably achingly painful too, as he buries it inside of you to get relief. The more he thrusts the deeper he goes in, until he’s slamming into your sweet spot, balls landing heavy against the curve of your ass as he fucks into you. 

“Rúbenn..” you moan, nails scraping against the tan, toned skin of his back “..don’t- don’t s- stop!” 

“I'm so close, fuck..” he grunts, voice muffled slightly in what you suspect is shame. His libido is strong and he doesn’t usually finish this fast. But with the aphrodisiac in his system you’re not surprised he’s cumming quickly, nor are you put off by it. In fact, you’re exceptionally aroused by it. The feeling of him fucking into you so eagerly, so needy - it gets you going like nothing else. You feel another wave of pleasure begining to creep in. With the constant motion of Rúben’s thick cock and every flex of his tongue over your neck, as he sucks bruises into your skin, you feel your orgasm approaching. 

Apparently, the way that your nails dig into Rúben’s skin is encouragement for him as well. Your thighs tremble from the weight of your previous orgasm, and the impending pressure of your next one, his dick twitches like it’s painful for him to keep it together. 

“It’s okay, baby..” you pant, scraping a hand up his back to cradle the back of his neck. He's still suckling on your neck, tongue and teeth working in tandem to mark your skin “You can cum. Feels sooo good, ughh..you feel so fucking good!” 

Your encouragement seems to help and his dick twitches again. You tug on his hair and his thighs tense. You yank his head back with a fistful of his hair, pulling him out of your neck to kiss him and invite him to occupy his tongue with your own instead of your throat. 

The second your tongue brushes against his own, he cums. It’s like a dam bursting, every ounce of arousal he’d tried holding in, busting from his head straight into your incredibly wet pussy. You’re already slick enough from all of your own release, but his own gushes from the seam between his cock and your vagina. 

“Fuck me. Oh my God.” Rúben pants, the words flowing directly between your lips as he mouths at your mouth. He’s desperate to do something with his mouth, he always has been, and it’s no surprise that he’d taken his time to appreciate your pussy earlier.

He licks over your tongue, his own tucking to the inside of your cheek for a brief second before he sucks at yours again. It only makes your own arousal more intense, and before you know it, your second, possibly more intense orgasm is seizing you, tensing your muscles and spasming through you. 

Rúben cums for a long time, dick twitching and spurting cum the more he makes out with you, and the more your cunt convulses around him. Your kiss is sloppy, it’s messy, there’s drool leaking down the corners of your mouth, and that’s what makes it so effective to stretch out his orgasm. When you’re both sure you couldn’t cum more even if you tried, he slumps over your chest, his full weight on you as he lays panting on your sweaty skin. 

“Fuck..that- ” he groans, voice broken and raspy with strain “that was the best sex we’ve ever had.” 

“Mhmmm..” you nod lazily, enjoying a rare moment of breathing freely “..yeah, we need to use those chocolates again.”

“For sure.” he agrees, his beard prickling against the skin at the slope of your breast “I didn’t think it would work.” 

“I'm glad it did.” you said thoughtfully, and you feel Rúben shift against your thigh, his cock already half-hard again. He grinds it into you, what you think is accidentally, but his groan lets you know it felt nice. 

“Baby..” you start, but he’s already rubbing up against you once more, humping his hardening cock against your thigh.

“I need- I need a little more.” he almost whimpers, tightening his hold on your upper half “Babe, i need more..please.” 

“Okay.” you soothe, kissing his sweaty forehead “Okay, umm..I want to ride you.” You replied. Uttering the phrase felt like jumping over a mental fence. You basically had to force the words past your lips. Although, once they finally escaped, you felt much less shy about it. Speaking so boldly to him felt very empowering. 

“Fuck yes.” He replied and lied on his back next to you, patting his thighs for you to straddle. “Ride me.” He said. It wasn’t a suggestion, it wasn’t a question, it was a command. It makes your knees feel wobbly and your legs feel like jelly. 

You obliged, straddling his body. “Watch me.” You commanded back, your eyes meeting his and a moan escaped his lips. He sat up on his elbows and obeyed, watching as you slid your soaked core up and down his dick. 

“Oh my god, fuck!” His eyes widened and his hands grabbed at your thighs. 

You took his dick in your hand and slowly guided it to your entrance, sitting down on him and taking him deep into your core. 

“Oh, fuck..you feel so big.” You said. You felt a small sting as he stretched your walls, but carried on. 

“A-and your wet little pussy is so fucking tight.” The words barely escaped his mouth as he was breathless. He stayed propped up on his elbows to get a full view. 

You began to slowly rock your hips, grinding your clit against his pubic bone, feeling him twitching inside of you. You moaned at the sensation, but he moaned louder. 

“Fuck- move up and down..” He said, his eyes glued to the spot that your bodies collide “Let me see my dick disappear inside of you.” 

You gasped at his filthy mouth once again, but granted his wishes. You moved your legs around so that you could stand on your feet and began moving up and down, bouncing on his dick, feeling how he stretched you with each motion. The new angle gave you new pleasure, he was hitting spots you never even knew existed before. 

“O-oh my god, baby-“ your voice was shaking. You knew at this point you weren't going to last much longer. And quite frankly, he wasn't going to either. 

“Yeah? Feels good?” You barely heard him say through the fog of your pleasure. 

“Yes, Rúben! Fuck..feels- oh, so good..” You were unable to form words.

You shouted, unsure of what you were even saying, as pleasure overtook your entire body. 

Your vision went white and the world became a blur. You didn’t even know if he had finished - by the time you came to your senses it was all over. You had collapsed onto his chest and his arms were around you, as he whispered god knows what into your ear. You truly were on another planet.

“..so fucking good. You were so fucking good.” He praised you. 

“What?” You mumbled out, blinking your eyes a few times as you grounded yourself, which caused you to giggle. 

“Are you alright, meu amor?” Rúben asked you, a smile could be heard in his voice. 

“Wonderful.” You hummed. You didn’t want to move. Your body melted into his. “I like filthy sex with you, Rúbes.” 

“I like any kind of sex with you.” Rúben said as he kissed your forehead. 

#ruben dias #ruben gato dias #ruben dias fic #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias x reader #ruben dias x you #ruben dias x y/n #ruben dias smut #ruben dias fluff #football imagine #football imagines

[shaisuki]

ADDICTION

|| the second entry for the series “𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐖𝐄 𝐃𝐎 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄”

content warnings ─── bonten! sanzu, murder, talks about torture, noncon, implied kidnapping, drugs , dark themes, yandere themes

ᝰ synopsis.ᐟ when colored pills doesn't give him the high he needed, sanzu finds a new addiction, it's better than ecstasies.

the gunshot seem to frighten you. i apologize for that. in line of my "business" it is my job to keep the empire mikey had built to flourish. these traitors are not the worth of the name bonten and those who are without use should perish.

it's also to serve a warning to you. never run away from me.

i have no intention of harming you, let alone scare you. it's only a reminder that you can never escape from me, even you run to the ends of the world, i will follow you.

shed the blood of those who dares to look at you. serve their head in a platter. cut every finger who dares to lay their hands on you. rip their limbs apart one by one and not even death could escape their fate from my hands.

why are you crying? you don't like that? silly girl. it's a punishment for them who can't understand that you belong to me. what? can you repeat that? you don't want me nor anything of this?

you got no choice. you've bewitched me. got me high of my feelings that i didn't know i was capable of doing so. you've made me addicted to the sensation of your skin in mine. your voice like bells in my ears. no drugs could make me feel like the way you do.

you're the most potent drug that i could take. intoxicating me with your light that flows in my veins and gives me euphoria reaching in my brain. you're the medicine in my pain.

sometimes you're also the cause of the aches in my body. you never really learn do you? what got you shaking? the body drops as i pull the trigger on his head. blood pooling at those empty head of this incompetent fool to never let you out of sight when i'm dealing with mikey.

this is a warning. don't test me. although, i vowed myself to never harm you—you need to be taught a lesson. nobody messes with me, no one.

ssh. don't cry. this is all your fault. you're going to take whatever i give to you. fuck! i might lose control of myself whenever those tiny whimpers leave your mouth as i pressed my lips to your heated skin. be a good girl. all i want for you is to submit to me.

tears won't work on me darling, i've seen plenty of it. from the men who for me to spare their useless lives with a gun in my hand. it would be no different to you. you're mine to begin with. i own you.

a blissful sigh escaping from my lips as i inhale your scent. such beautiful hair you have. such bounty you have for yourself and it's mine to exploit.

the straps of your nightgown falling down to your round shoulders the more my lips move to feel of your skin. this would be your life with me as i clothe you with the most luxurious clothes i can provide for you. money ain't a problem for me. i have lots of them.

your body trembles as i touch you. i won't harm you, i told you. think of this as a lesson while you think of escaping me again. there's no escape in my grasps. as much i hate to force you, this is your punishment for making me angry. if you weren't my precious little things—i would have killed you.

we won't like that don't we? stay still. it would be easy for me to take you or else it would hurt. never been a problem for me to put down people like you.

that's it. you weren't that stubborn when i'm putting you in your place. that's right. the sight of you sinking in the sheets with your hands gripping the sheet while you brace yourself for me to take you. your plump ass raised to serve me.

eyes rolling as i sink to your warm pussy. engulfing me in such warmth that got me hooked, wishing forever to be inside you and now we are as one. connected to fulfill our desires and to feed my addiction.

i hope you learned your lesson with this one or else i'll be doing it until it get through your thick skin. i won't get tired of it nor will i ever stop.

this is what addiction to you feels like. a neverending rush of euphoria.

#ʚ•ɞ. shai writes #chubby reader #tokyo rev x y/n #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers #sanzu haruchiyo #sanzu x reader #tokyo revengers sanzu #akashi haruchiyo #haruchiyo sanzu x reader #yandere x reader

[ellethespaceunicorn]

The Howling of Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Five

Chapter Five: A Biting Truth

Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI

Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader

Word Count: 2.8K

Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.

Chapter Summary: You and Walter talk about some things, you listen to a voicemail, and then talk a little more.

Warnings: anxiety, fluffy moments, mentioned smut, a lot of shirtlessness in this chapter, spicy late-night texting (not sexting technically)

A/N: Thank you all for being hella patient with me as I worked on my mental health. It has only been a month but I feel tons better already. I hope you enjoy this one. A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. 

Dividers by me

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

Series Masterlist

My Masterlist 

The tension in your muscles wakes you up. You had quite a night but you weren’t exactly upset about it. Stretching out your arms, you reach over to find the space next to you is empty and cold.

The last time you checked, there was a sleeping werewolf in bed with you. Now, there is just a wrinkled set of bedding that only serves to get your brain working double-time.

Did he leave? Were you too much for him? Did he change his mind about needing to care for you?

You pull the covers off you and sit up only to feel light-headed. Your senses dull and return to you tenfold, the smell of coffee invading your nostrils and giving you hope. 

You tiptoe out of bed and head to the bathroom to freshen up. Splashing water on your face, brushing your teeth, and doing something quick with your hair has you feeling a bit better about the sight that first greeted you in the mirror. You tiptoe back into your bedroom and pull on some sleep shorts, an old t-shirt, and a pair of fuzzy socks.

This totally looks like I just ‘woke up like this’, you think to yourself.

Making your way downstairs, you are greeted at the bottom of the stairs by a shirtless Walter holding a fresh mug of coffee in one hand. He hands you the mug and kisses your forehead.

“Bacon and eggs are almost ready. I hope you don’t mind me raiding your fridge. I was starved and I figured you would be too. And there is more coffee where that came from,” he says, smiling down at your surprised face.

You suddenly smell the bacon and your stomach grumbles, as if on cue. Walter laughs and ushers you to sit down at your dining table. He soon brings out two plates of scrambled eggs with cheese alongside bacon. Setting your plate in front of you, he takes your mug and refreshes your coffee and you enjoy the view of his ample ass as he walks away.

Once seated again, Walter opens up to you. “I’d like you to know a couple of things about me. Maybe should have told you these before we… you know. But, better late than never, right?”

You nod silently while picking up a slice of bacon and taking a bite to keep your mouth occupied.

“Right, well. I have a daughter and an ex-wife. They’re with my old pack. Faye, that’s my daughter. I miss her so much. We talk on the phone every week but I know her first shift is coming soon. I can feel it. Angie, her mother, and my ex-wife takes great care of her. I know that. But I wish I could do more. I had to leave the pack, though, because I disagreed with the Alpha. Well, less of a disagreement and more of a fight where I almost killed him. I didn’t want to kill him so instead I left. My best friend Jace, another pack member, is keeping an eye on Faye and Ang,” he peeks up at your eyes for a moment before continuing, “I just didn’t want to keep that from you. You deserve to know what you’re getting involved with.” He sits back and looks into your eyes for some kind of acceptance.

You reach over the table, putting your hand in Walter’s before speaking up. “Thank you for telling me, Wolfie. I appreciate you bringing me in on what you’re dealing with. It can’t be easy missing your daughter like that,” you reassure him, knowing that it’s your turn to open up, “I told you a bit about my ex-fiance, James Syverson, but you should probably know that I was the one who broke off our engagement.”

Walter nods for you to continue.

“Our relationship was always pretty fast. We got together while he was home for a bit from active duty. And then, we were making plans to get married. I wasn’t upset about that because I thought he was ‘my Sy’, ya know? But then, everything came crashing down right before he was deployed again. He wanted to get me pregnant so badly. I wasn’t ready to be all alone with this little life inside of me that wouldn’t know their father until he came home.” 

Bad manners be damned, you pick up another slice of bacon and chew while you speak, “We just couldn’t see eye to eye on that and in the end, I gave him back his ring and told him that I didn’t want to be an Army wife and have our kids be without a father for the most part. I broke up with him just before he deployed and I still feel awful about it. But, I mean, he did expect me to fall in line and I’m just not a soldier. I had my own plans for how things were supposed to go and it was much slower than what he had in mind. That being said, it’s kind of funny that I met a werewolf less than a year later and after one night, he may have gotten me pregnant. Not exactly in my plans, but for some reason, I’m not afraid to see what happens. And that is new for me so all I ask for is a little patience.”

You sit back in your chair, looking down at your plate, half-eaten and surely cold by now. You feel overwhelmed after talking about Sy, you still feel like shit for not giving him what he wanted. For so long, you thought he was your everything. You wanted to make him happy, but you chose your own happiness in the end. And that had been the hardest decision that you had ever made.

You are still in your head when you register Walter kneeling at the side of your chair and turning you face him before he speaks to you. “Tell me what you need.”

You look down at him and smile, his bright eyes are focused on you and his hands are soothing at your waist. You reach your hands to his face, cradling his bearded jaw before leaning forward and kissing him sweetly. You lean your forehead against his and sigh.

“I just need you, Wolfie.”

“You’ve got me. I’m not going anywhere, Pup.” He pulls you from your chair and into his lap so you wrap your arms and legs around him. Holding you tight to his chest, he shifts to sit cross-legged. You enjoy caressing his back while he sighs and kisses your neck. You can’t stop the mewl that escapes your lips at his tender touch.

You pull back and look into each other’s eyes, smiling and wondering if the other is thinking the same thing. 

Walter looks at his watch, looking back up to you with hopeful eyes. “I have about an hour before I need to get home and changed for work. How long do you have?”

“I don’t have to be in til 1. We’ve got time,” you offer, tangling a hand in his unruly curls.

Walter stands, holding onto you like a koala bear as he walks to and up the stairs. Getting to your bedroom, he sits down and lays back so you straddle his hips. As you lean up, taking off your shirt, his hands settle on your hips. You can feel how aroused you are for him as he guides your hips to glide over his clothed, yet hardening length.

And that is when your phone decides to ring.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me.” “Are you serious?” You both speak at the same time and can’t help but laugh.

You reach over to your nightstand for your phone, picking it up to see Olivia’s smiling face greeting you. You answer it and sit back in Walter’s lap.

“Hey, Liv. What’s up?” You put a finger to your lips and Walter nods so you slowly grind your hips into his. Watching his brows furrow as you give him just enough friction to enjoy himself.

“Hey, girl. I was just checking up on you. You alright?”

“Yeah, I’m fine. Just taking it day by day, you know?” You place a hand on Walter’s abs and glide your fingers through his chest hair. Apparently, he is ticklish and he chuckles despite trying to be quiet.

“Girl...is that your mystery man? Tell him I said hey.”

“Olivia says hey, Walter,” you announce, to which he replies: “Hi, Liv.”

“Well, I won’t keep you. You enjoy yourself, girl. Lord knows you needed it. If he has any cute friends, keep me posted. Talk to you later. Bye, Walter!” 

“Bye,” You hang up, tossing your phone back on the nightstand before leaning forward to kiss the grin off of Walter’s face, “Now, where were we?”

He grips your hips and turns you both so he is on top. “I think we were right about here,” he coos, sitting back on his heels and pulling your shorts off, your socks following after. Keeping his jeans on, he slides them just slightly down his thighs.

He takes his time with you, listening to your body telling him what you need. He licks and nips at your neck. Grabbing at your legs, he pushes them back so he can go deeper. He holds on tight to his own orgasm until you have had two of your own. The only sounds in the room are his groans, your moans, and your shared breathing.

Once finished, you lay in bed cuddling until Walter checks his watch again and grumbles to himself. You watch as he gets out of bed and pulls his jeans back up. Grabbing a robe, you follow him down to your living room as he gathers the rest of his clothing.

He puts on his coat and turns to you, unsurprised that you are still watching him. He makes you promise to call him tonight after work. Leaning down, he pecks your lips and retreats a bit before you pull him back in for a steamier kiss. He smiles into it and you smile back.

You see him out and giggle again as you see that he actually did park on your lawn last night. He grimaces and ducks his head but you just scratch behind his ear and he is all smiles again. You watch until he is out of eyesight and then close the door so you can get ready for work.

Work is grueling for the first few hours. Well, one might say grueling, another might say it makes time go by faster. All you know is that you could use a break. Even though you quit smoking, you did miss the built-in ‘breaks’ that habit came with.

Once you sit in your car, you feel the stress of the last four hours ease off your shoulders. Though it lurks outside your car window, ready to jump back in place when you exit.

You scroll through your phone, replying to various emails and checking in with Liv. A notification pops up as a reminder to check your voicemail. Right, Sy had called and left you a message a day ago but you hadn’t opened it yet.

You navigate to the Phone icon, then to voicemail to see Sy’s unread alert. Pressing on the voicemail, you raise the phone to your ear and the message starts.

“Hey, Bug, it’s Sy...but of course, you knew that already. Caller ID, amirite? Anyway, uh, just wanted...wanted to say it was good seeing you today. Yer looking...good. Healthy. Jesus, I swear you’d think I was leaving a damn voicemail for the Queen or something. You remember you used to call me smooth, right? Not anymore, damnit. I just wanted to check in with you, ‘cause I went and got into a scuffle with a wolf out there in the woods. I’m fine, don’t you worry none. He got a couple nips in. But I got him right in the gut. The big bastard should be feeling that for the next few days at least. Hopefully, soon, we can put this wolf business behind us all. That’s all I had to say, I’m getting tired and you’re probably already in bed as it is. This damn message is getting too long, I think. Talk soon, bye now.”

You pulled the phone away from your ear and pressed the button to repeat the voicemail. Yeah, you heard that correctly. Turns out Sy is the one who shot Walter.

And just to make this even a bit more complicated, Walter may have gone and given Sy a bite. A bite that may or may not turn him into a werewolf.

You sit in the driver’s seat and debate just driving home for the day, but you pull up your big girl panties and force yourself to finish your shift. You clocked out and changed before anyone knew what hit them, all but running back to your car to make it home. 

Your thoughts run from Sy to Walter and back again so many times, who do you call first? Your ex, who may be struggling through turning right now, OR your boyfriend who doesn’t yet know anything is wrong. Right.

Turning on your car, you let the heat warm up the vehicle while you turn back to your phone. Hitting Sy’s contact, your phone starts to dial him. Three rings and you were just about on the verge of driving out to his house when he picked up.

“Hmph...’lo?” Sy’s sleepy voice sounds downright melodious.

“Oh, my God. Sy, are you ok? I am so sorry I didn’t get your message until now and I had to make sure you were o–“

Sy cuts you off in his confusion. “Bug, it’s...after midnight. You just leaving work?”

“Yeeeeeah, shit. I am so sorry. I just had to make sure you were ok. Getting into fights with wolves and all that, ya know?” The heat permeating your face was enough to make you wish the Earth swallowed you up.

“Wouldn’t say I got into a fight with him. More like, he whooped my ass and I had to shoot him,” he snorts, clearing his throat before speaking again, “Go ‘head and drive home. We can talk while you drive. So you know I’m safe, and I know you’re safe.”

“Yeah, got it,” you pushed the Bluetooth button to take over the call so you could drive and talk at the same time.

The short drive from work to home was just long enough for Sy to reassure you that he was feeling just fine. You made him send you a picture of his bite after you got off the phone. You shouldn’t have been surprised that he would send a fully shirtless pic of him in bed, barely zooming in on the wound on his hip. He looks really good.

The wound looks really good, you shut down whatever your brain decided to get stuck on and ask him for another closer pic. 

At least this time, you can only see half of his six-pack and much less of his happy trail. Thank God for small favors. You can see bruising around the bite, but it looks like it barely broke the skin. What does this mean for a werewolf bite? Who knows. But at least, he—the bite looks good.

You text him to keep you posted if he starts to feel feverish or anything, you can remember from movies and television that werewolves tend to feel feverish when they are changing. Is that accurate? Again, who knows?

But, you know who would know?

You respond with a wink face when Sy thanks you for checking up on him. He responds with his signature kissing heart wink face and you refuse to put any more thought into that shirtless man tonight. You shake your head and exit the messaging app to make a call.

One ring and he picks up, “Hey, Pup. You make it home ok? Just thought you were gonna call a bit ago.”

“Hi, Wolfie. Yeah, I made it home ok, baby. I just had quite a night and had to check in on a friend. I…had to check in on James. Seems you two have met. Uh, there’s no easy way to say this, baby–”

“Slow down, just start from the beginning.” Walter’s calm voice cuts you off and you just blurt everything out.

“You may have turned my ex into a werewolf. You bit him, and he shot you. So, can we freak out now or did you have a better time in mind?” You close your eyes, not sure what you were expecting him to say.

“Now is good, I think.”

Ok, I guess you could have predicted that.

To be continued...

A/N: Very sorry that this took about a month to get out, but my mental health was declining and I had to work on a few things.

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#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #walter marshall smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall x you #werewolf!walter marshall #night hunter au #henry cavill characters #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x you

[eddiesxangel]

Snowed In | Eddie Munson X Reader

Summary: Eddie spoils you on a snow day

Cw: Afab reader, fluff, and smut 18+ mdni

When you awoke this morning, you thought it was still the middle of the night, the sky was so dark, and you could hardly see through the snow blowing in every direction. How did Eddie get to work this morning? You thought as you noticed your boyfriend was no longer asleep beside you.

That thought was soon forgotten when you heard the clanging of pans from the kitchen. It was already 9:30am, Eddie was suppose to be long gone by now but the shuffling coming from outside your door told you otherwise.

“Shit” you hear Eddie curse under his breath as you walk out of your bedroom in only your panties and oversized long sleeve sleep shirt. As you enter the kitchen you see Eddie faced away from you as he worked over the stove. His bare back was exposed and as you approached him you see how low his flannel lounge pants hung on his hips.

“Baby what are you doing?” You coo as you brush your hands up his shoulders.

“Ahhh!” Eddie screamed freezing in place.

“I’m sorry baby” you hug him from behind feeling his heart race as you place your hands on his chest resting your head on his bare back. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Damn it Sugarplum, I was trying to surprise you with breakfast on bed.” He turns to you cupping your face giving you a light kiss good morning.

“Baby you’re so cute! But what about your shift?” You snuggle your face into the crook of his neck. He smelled so good. Like fresh linen and fragments of yesterdays cologne. He wrapped his arms around your head closing your in before kissing the top of it.

“Haven’t you see outside? We are snowed in. Malls closed. So it’s just you and I alllllllll day” he smiled at the idea. Eddie had so many plans for the two of you and all of them involved you naked.

“Really?” You perked up popping your head out of the confines of Eddie’s hands.

“Mmmmhhhhmmmmm” he nods. “Now get your cute butt to back into the room so I can treat my girl to breakfast in bed.”

Eddie man handled you back into your bedroom giving your ass a smack before plopping you onto the bed.

“Stay” he requests as he leaves you as you giggle to yourself.

About ten minutes later Eddie saunters in with a tray of pancakes, bacon, and two mugs of mocha because he knows you need your coffee.

“Baby! This is amazing thank you” if you could sprout heart eyes you would. No man had ever cared for you the way Eddie does. As Eddie placed the tray carefully down on the bed you grab his face and kiss him as a thank you. It quickly deepened as your slipped your tongue into his mouth but Eddie pulled away.

“Don’t worry baby we definitely be getting to that later. But I don’t want your food to get cold.” He smiled giving you one last peck before sitting down beside you to serve you.

After your belly’s were full of sugary goodness Eddie waisted no time before he was back on you. He kissed down your neck pulling your shirt collar out of the way with one hand before trailing his hand up your shirt. You felt his other hand tracing over your tummy before he was cupping your bare breast. His lips were so soft and gentle that you let out a moan of pleasure and it triggered Eddie’s on switch.

“Fuck baby you don’t know what you do to me” Eddie crawled over you so he was fully on top pressing his weigh down into your lap.

“I think I have a a pretty good idea big boy” you graze your hand over his bulge. You let out a sigh as you bite your lip at the realization it was only the fabric of his pants between you and what you wanted most.

“You’re wearing too much clothing” Eddie hums into your mouth before taking your breath away with a deep kiss. Eddie can’t take it any longer he rolls his hips into yours as you try and shimmy your panties down.

Eddie’s hands are already roaming your upped body trying to pull your sleep top over your head. You shiver as your warmth is stripped from you, only reminding you about the blizzard howling just outside your bedroom window.

The chill doesn’t last long as Eddie’s body heat consumes you. Wraps you up like a warm fluffy blanket. His skin is so soft wrapped around you. You think it’s due to the fact he is using your body wash now instead of the cheap bar soap he always used beforehand.

“Baby I need you” you’re now naked and Eddie is still confined by his sleep pants. Eddie’s mouth moved from yours down to the side of your neck. He knows the exact spot that drives you insane. He loves teasing you until you’re begging for him. His hands trace your entire body as you lay underneath him wriggling to get any kind of relief.

“Shhhh it’s okay Sugarplum….” Eddie cooed. “Just tell me how much you need this cock and I’ll give you everything.” Eddie held your gaze as he cupped your face.

“Baby, please. You’re the only one who makes me feel this good. I need you so much” you take his hand in yours, trying to guide it to where you needed him the most.

“Fuck baby you’re so wet and I’ve hardly started.”

“Can’t help it” you lift your head up to capture Eddie into another kiss.

He wiggles his hips finally releasing his cock from the confines of his pants. He legs out a sigh of relief as his cock slaps down onto your wet slit. Your legs open up wider for him to run his cock up and down your folds. You were both so desperate for one another the foreplay was going to be skipped over this time. The pure need for him to fill you had your ready enough. The pampering for today alone was all it took for you to open up for Eddie. Knowing he loves you, even if he hasn’t said it yet.

He showed it in his actions. The way he dressed up as Santa Claus for your nieces and nephews even though you didn’t ask him to. The way he picked you up form your late night shifts, walk your from the front door to your car so you wouldn’t be alone walking to your car in the dark. The way he would pull a blanket over you if you fell asleep on the couch. The way he doted on you, like this morning. It was his day off and yet he thought of you.

“You ready babygirl?” He slid his cock slowly up and down your wetness before you nod your head with consent.

As you breathed out his cock slipped into you so smoothly. The way he stretched you out was too good.

“You’re so damn tight, swallowing my cock up so good”

“You fill me so good baby, you feel so good.” You cry.

Eddie’s hips start thrusting so deliciously, hitting that spot deep inside you over and over. Your walls are contracting around him, squeezing his hard thick cock like a vice.

“Oh baby please” you begged as his hips snapped against yours. You spread you legs wider so Eddie could thrust into you deeper. He ran up his hands from holding your legs open, up your tummy across your breasts before grabbing your hands bringing them up over your head and interlocking his fingers with your own.

The intimacy of the moment was too much, “I love you” slipped off your lips before you even realized you were talking.

Eddie froze mid thrust. “What?”

“I-i-i” you stutter.

“You love me?” He questioned. His gaze held you hypnotized. His eyes reminded you of a deep rich coffee mixed with caramel and whiskey. You couldn’t find the words you nodded your head not blinking.

A big smile breaks out in Edie’s face, his glair softening, his heart warming. He hasn’t had anyone tell him they love in a romantic sense. He knew he was in love with you but he didn’t know how to say it yet. Not until now.

“I love you, “ he finally says back and you let out the breath of anticipation you’d been holding. “Fuck I love you” his hips snap back into you with such force you cry out with pleasure.

“I love you Eddie” “I love you sugar plum”

The silent room filled with the sounds of wet skin and the soft confessions slipping from your tongues.

One last thrust and Eddie had your orgasm ripping through you. “I love you!” You slip as your body rippled with euphoria. You cunt clamped down on Eddie so tight he swore he stared seeing stars. He came instantly, letting his seed fill you.

He peppered your face with kisses before slipping out to see your cum filled cunt. “Fucking beautiful.”

“You love me?” You shyly bite your lip as you spread you legs as far as they could giving Eddie the best view he’s ever seen.

“Oh you have no idea Sugarplum.” He smiles leaving in to kiss you.

The rest of the day the both of you were wrapped up in the sheets not leaving the bed unless I’d was for food or the bathroom.

“Best snow day ever” you snuggled into Eddie’s chest.

Tagging some moots 🩷: @slutty-thevampireslayer @battymunson @onegirlmanytales @reidsbtch

Reposted ❄️

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie muson #eddie Munson imagine #eddie munson fan fic #eddie x reader #Eddie smut #eddie x fem!reader #eddie x you

[wontontrap]

Feast for Kings | Prelude

【 The origins of cuck!Eddie and corruption!kink reader explored

【 Part I | Part II

【 Gareth spies on Eddie roughly fucking you before being invited to join in on Master's fun

【 18+

【 Content warnings: cuck!Eddie, reader has corruption kink, reader is unsure of her roles, face fucking, intimidation, rough sex, heavy mentions of bodily fluids, protected/unprotected sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, spanking, name calling, degradation, mean!Eddie, bully!Eddie, ownership kink (if you squint), threesome (duh), reader and Eddie are in a relationship

Eddie had called you just as the school was letting out. Something about a slashed tire on the van. There were people who still thought of him in a certain light, and it wasn't unusual that he'd run into problems with a random townie every once in a while. You left work early and headed to Hawkins High feeling annoyed but excited to see him 2 hours earlier than you would've had you finished your work day.

Graduating had been both liberating and disarming for Eddie, and lately he worked on a peaceful transition of power within the Hellfire Club. The throne would pass to Gareth. Gareth who was freshly 18 with his whole senior year ahead of him. Gareth who was exceptionally smart and painfully sweet. You loved Eddie and you loved his passions and his brazen pageantry, but with Gareth at the helm the club might actually grow and thrive and serve a purpose for young kids. An actual school club and not the mythical mafia Eddie ran for almost 6 years.

You pulled into the parking lot next to Eddie's van, and walking around to assess the damages, you see none. You roll your eyes to yourself, starting your walk to the side doors. You make it to the club room after a short stroll through the hallways.

"Eddie?" you call into the dark, empty room.

The candles are lit although the game's landscape isn't setup.

"The queen has arrived," you hear his low voice.

"Eddie, there's nothing wrong with the van. Why did you make me leave work? I'm on thin ice after calling out for the entire weekend last month," you meekly tell him.

"And what a fun weekend that was, sweetheart." he replies. "I just missed you, is all. Wanted you."

"Eddie not here, okay? Let's just go home and we can-"

"After today," he cuts you off, "I'm going to try very hard not to step foot in here ever again. But, one last time, I'd like to have my queen in the throne room."

As of late, you and Eddie had been having semi-public sex a lot. Every so often he'd get these sexual hyperfixations, and you had always partaken in the joy of the acts with him without issue. You seemed to always like the same things and as for the public component, the threat of getting caught was very exciting to you. Sometimes you did get caught and it was even more exhilarating. So you say yes.

"Just be quick, okay?" You whine, wishing he'd take you home and break the bed with you instead.

"I can promise you anything but that," he says.

He closes the gap between you and presses his lips to yours, gentle pecks at first, just saying hello after your day away from him. Your kisses grow deeper as he tightens his hold on you, his other hand fisting into your hair. You pull away with his bottom lip in your teeth, a bold move on your part, but then again you were celebrating.

"Fuck." He breathes.

He drops to his knees, unbuttoning your tight jeans. He pulls them down your legs and you step out of them. He drapes them nicely on a nearby chair, always the gentleman. He presses his face to your clothed cunt, breathing in your scent.

"Eddie," you interrupt him, "Hurry up we don't have time for-"

You regretted the words as you were saying them. He stands towering over you now, and before you could blink you were face down on the table listening to the sound of his belt unbuckle.

"Throne or not, I'm still your king," he says, "And you'll be an obedient queen or else-"

The leather of his belt cracks against your ass. You whine.

"I'm sorry," you blurt out. "I'm sorry my king. Please, use me however you like."

The game had started. You tried to maintain your momentary position of power but you betrayed yourself with the poor suggestion to hurry his fun along.

With his belt tossed aside, you feel your panties slowly being dragged down your ass. You step out of them and he immediately pockets them before spreading your cheeks and spitting onto your pussy.

He delves two fingers into you and you pulse around them, already wet from just kissing him, the touch of the leather the cherry on top. You whine.

"Shhhh," he coos. "You can take it, angel. After all, you said to hurry up."

He languidly moves his fingers in and out of your fresh slick, and you rock back on them, sending them deeper into you each time. You reach down to rub sloppy circles into your clit, hiking your leg up to bite your own thigh.

"Jesus Christ," he breathes, stepping back.

"That's so hot, don't stop."

You continue to unabashedly pleasure yourself, pussy clenching around nothing as you abuse your clit. A string of drool trails from your thigh to your puffy lips.

You hear the sound of Eddie's zipper as you continue, and not long after your feel the tip of his cock start to enter you. He holds your leg for you now as he roughly pushes past your folds and all the way into you. You stretch your arm out, gripping the desk you lay on as he ruts into you like an animal. This angle opens you to him in a new way and he bottoms out with each thrust, reaching your depths and jolting your senses with each snap of his hips. You've stopped your assault on your delicate clit and now use your fingers to spread your pussy open further for him. His cock brushes past your fingers as you watch him fuck into your gaping hole.

"You're so fucking perfect" he breaths, "I can't believe I get to ruin this pussy whenever I want."

You were about to tell him not to stop. To never stop fucking you like this, and that's when you see him. Widened eyes and flushed cheeks, shadowed by the large cabinet he hides behind. It's Gareth. You can see his heavy breathing, see him tugging at the bulge in his jeans. Something in you flutters but you know it's wrong.

"Eddie stop!" you cry out.

He immediately stills.

"What? What's wrong?"

You turn to cover yourself, hiding behind him.

"Look," you say, pointing.

"Well, well, fuckin' well," he says. He tucks his angry cock into the band of his boxers, pulling his jeans up and leaving them undone.

He drags Gareth from his hiding spot and forces his face down onto the nearest desk.

"What the fuck are you doing, kid? You creepin' on me and my girl? Trying to see how a real man does it? I can't teach you everything."

You can see in his face that Gareth is terrified despite the boner still growing in his jeans. You have nothing to cover yourself with and quickly attempt to put your jeans back on commando.

"Stop," Eddie says.

You don't stop, you can't. You're fueled by embarrassment.

"I said - stop," Eddie says, voice barely a whisper.

Eddie had taken his new fixation to an even newer high just weeks before. It was a full moon at the lake, his favorite time and place to fuck you outdoors. He was balls deep in you with the back doors to the van wide open, overlooking the water, when a youngish man about 30 came strolling through in jogging gear. He had stopped to rest just across a shallow expanse of stream. He could see everything, but couldn't get to the van without crossing at least a waist length of shallow water. He was surprised to say the least, to see you with your dress around your waist, Eddie's bicep around your neck. Eddie continued to give it to you hard from behind. Your makeup was already running from him having throat fucked you minutes before. You pouted and put on a show for the man as Eddie whispered in your ear, "Such a whore, such a good little whore for me." You hadn't known what came over you, but you had laughed, licking your lips as the man jerked his cock hard with his pants around his ankles.

You stopped. And stood there. Stood there with your intimacy exposed and your barely there tank top, straps of your lace bra fallen down your shoulders.

"Stay." He told Gareth.

And he did. Kept his face pressed firmly against the desk as Eddie pulled you aside.

You were incredibly embarrassed and he held your face in his hands.

"Hey, sweetheart," he began, "it's alright."

He continued. "He's just a curious kid," I'm gonna put him in his place and we'll get on home, yeah?"

"Okay," you said, glancing over at him. You lingered.

"What is it?" He asked.

"He's just so innocent," you blurt out, "You're right, he's just curious," you continue, musing.

You cock your head to the side, feeling less embarrassed now as a myriad of unclean thoughts run through your head. Only a few feet away Gareth's eyes are screwed shut, face still down on the desk, and a bulge still prominent in his jeans. Eddie grabs your face again, turning your eyes to his.

"What do you say we give him a show, huh?"

You mindlessly nod yes.

"Maybe even give him a little gift, hmm?" He proposes.

Your eyes widen.

"Me?" You ask, loudly than you meant to, "I'm the gift?"

"If you're okay with that," Eddie says, "If not I'll just blow my load in you in front of the kid and scare the shit out of him," he chuckles.

"I guess I-" you began, "I guess I'd be okay with that if you are. The thought of-," you stutter, "The thought of corrupting him is exciting," you admit. "But, I didn't think you'd ever want to see me with anyone else. Wouldn't that make you angry? And-" you pause, "Would I not be yours anymore?"

Eddie's eyes darken as he listens to you. "He'll wear a rubber. And I'll watch him squirm as he fucks you while you swallow my cum like a good whore. It's about power, sweetheart. I want him to know how perfect you are - with limits. He can have a taste, but he'll never have the whole cake. My pleasure is your worship. But your pleasure belongs to me."

He roughly grabs you by the chin.

"You'll milk him dry while he squeals and moans like the little bitch boy he is. Meanwhile, I spit roast you with my cock down your little throat before finishing you off the way you want it most," he whispers.

You're panting now, new arousal coating your thighs as Eddie drags you by the chin to the desk in front of where Gareth lies. He bends you over, spreading your legs, your pussy on full display.

He grabs Gareth by his bushy head of hair, the boy's eyes now looking directly at your tight hole.

"How's about a coronation gift?" he says, laughing.

Gareth shakes his head, trying to avoid looking at you.

"Boss I could never!" He shouts.

"Oh but you will," Eddie replies, "You wouldn't wanna disrespect me, would you kiddo? If you're going to be me, you have to practice being me in all respects."

They're both staring at you now, at your most intimate parts. You can feel Gareth's huffed breaths on your bare pussy and you gently moan.

"Is this-," Gareth begins, "Is this real? Is this really happening?"

"Gare Bear," Eddie begins, a sickly sweet tone to his voice. "If you can fuck my girl proper, I'll know you're ready to take the helm."

Eddie hoists him up by the collar before reaching into his pocket to fish out his wallet. He files through the compartments before pulling out a foil wrapped condom. You and he had stopped using them ages ago.

"The Lone Ranger!" Eddie exclaims. He hands it to Gareth.

"Know what to do with this, kid?" He asks.

"I think so," he says, shyly.

"Have you ever-" Eddie began to ask.

"Once", said Gareth. "At summer camp. But she wasn't-, I mean she-"

"Wasn't like my girl," Eddie finishes. "No one is like my girl. That's why she deserves to be appreciated like the fine art that she is."

He slaps your ass hard and your body jerks. Gareth's breath hitches and Eddie laughs.

"Go ahead, Gare Bear, she's waiting."

"This isn't a joke, right? You're not gonna kick my ass for thinking this was real? This is really real, Ed?"

"What's my name, Gareth?"

"Master." He answers immediately.

"And it will be until you show your worth." Eddie replies, a demanding tone to his voice.

Gareth struggles with the condom application for a minute, getting harder during as he stares at your pussy instead of focusing on the task at hand. Finally the condom is on to Eddie's standards and he directs you onto the table on all fours.

Eddie unleashes his monster cock again, making Gareth blush, and positions his tip at your pout. You feel the tip of Gareth at your entrance and shiver. Eddie enters you first, pushing into your mouth and to the back of your tongue. Gareth follows suit, entering you carefully.

It doesn't take long before Eddie is setting his usual pace of brutally fucking your face, hair twisted around his fist and other hand resting on your throat to feel himself inside it.

Gareth's thrusts get harder as he stares at the way Eddie's cock slides in and out of your sloppy mouth. Tears run from your eyes, spit from your chin. Eddie reaches down to pull the neck of your top down, freeing your tits.

"Fuck yes," he says, watching them bounce as they continue to fuck you in tandem.

"Look at you," Eddie says, "Doing so well for us."

He could be talking about either one of you at this point.

"That's it, kid," Eddie praises, "Stretch her back out for me."

"Yeah boss, Gareth replies, voice lost between breaths. "Stretch her back out for you."

You whine around Eddie's cock, and clench around Gareth's. Their words helping to keep you turned on.

"I think she likes you, kid." Eddie laughs.

Gareth's thrusts become erratic and not long after his whole body stutters as he spills into the condom. He stays inside of you shaking, gripping your hips hard. Eddie bottoms out in the back of your throat as you struggle to breathe through your nose. He pulls out of your mouth, a gag trailing him, cock covered in a thick layer of your saliva. Gareth pulls out of you, rushing to right himself.

"I promised her a load down the throat," Eddie says. "You couldn't have lasted another minute?" He snaps at Gareth.

Still shaking, Gareth knows no other solution than to bolt from the room. You hear his footfalls down the hall. Eddie laughs and laughs as you clamber down from the hard desk.

"Eddie you scared him half to death!" You exclaim.

"Right now," Eddie says, crowding you, "I couldn't care less."

He picks you up and you both crash onto the dungeon master's throne. He lifts your hips slightly, dropping you onto his hard cock. You cry out for him and as he squeezes you ass cheeks hard, grinding you on him. Your legs are weak and you can barely ride him, so he continues to use you like a toy by switching between fucking up into you hard and rolling your hips on him. Your stomach starts to tighten and your bottom lip quivers as your whimpers grow louder. Finally his tip kisses that wall deep inside you and you blow, gushing onto his lap. You violently milk him, his cum shooting into you in thick ropes. You rest your head on his chest, breathing heavily. He runs his fingers through your hair, caressing your face and coming down from his own high. You stay seated on him for some minutes, hearing the clock softly tick and the sound of the squeaky wheels on the janitor's mop bucket make their way down the hall.

The door opens and you hear the gravely voice of the aged janitor, "Damnit, Munson! What in the sam hell is goin' on in here?"

#eddie munson #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #gareth emerson #gareth emerson x reader #gareth emerson x you #rough smut #smut #gareth emerson smut #ffk #wontontrap #wontonamo bae #steddie #steddie smut #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things smut

[bangtangalicious]

bts smut recs | needy!jungkook

there is something about when our lovely jeon jungkook is portrayed to be a hormone crazy, super needy, greedy, whiny character that is so fucking hot. tmw readers. i know you’ll love these. the hyper-horniness and blatant hunger for sex is so sexy. these are all jungkook x reader 18+ SMUT recs based on this theme. more to be added as i find them!!! 

🔺 = yandere/taboo themes *ALL ARE SMUT

MILF (series) by @koosbabygrl | 🔺 ive read this so many times. like. SO MANY TIMES. this is PEAK needy!koo energy. its so fucking hot i cant even put it into words. theres this mommy kink moment and i CANT get over it holy shittttttttt. also the sequels are GREAT, in part 2 when he has her riding his cock while she does her makeup oh my fucking godDDDDDDD. amazing.

this specific needy!koo drabble by @voidswan | 🔺 i know its not a full fic but its literally so hot i cry. bunny!koo just wants to fuck so bad poor thing I DONT KNOW WHY IM JUST OBSESSED OK the stuttering gets me every fucking time. screams. 

clean up by @lonelyhobi & @scribblemetae | he’s drunk and he feels so guilty abt it but he cant help himself!! god its FEVERISHLY good. he’s all whiny and crying and he needs u so bad and the way its described is so fucking hot. the dirty talk is inSANE. dry humping. fuck. amazing amazing.

thunderstorms are scary by @lonelyhobi & @scribblemetae | same couple, but this innocent needy kook is just scared and comes to sleep w noona and then ends up groping you and poor kookie just cat stop bc you feel so good. he ruts into ur ass and whines and ugh. brilliantttttt. honestly recommend this whole masterlist of step-bro fics from them its amazing. theres also a fun loss-of-innocent taehyung one :))))

training wheels by @fithehunnybee | theres a twinge of like sneaky manipulation in this one which i love. y/n kinda a bitch but she drives poor lil koo up the mf WALL. we have some cumming in pants action which i know you all LOVE hehehehe. also i love that it builds the tension so well with koo getting so desperate and y/n teasing..poor lil bunny

the dark prince (series) by @jkeuphoriadreamland | 🔺 LISTEN. first of all, read all their works bc, chefs kiss, but focusing on the needy koo in this, he DEVELOPS mmkay, he starts off all innocent but once he has a taste oh boy does he know what he wants (its you, btw *wink). poor boy cant see at first but he cant fucking help himself your touch drives him insane. how can you resist? the slow burn. the build up. the teasing. IMMACULATE. 

thank you, baby (series) by @scribblemetae | 🔺 im gonna clickbait you ALL into reading this. its twisted in the best way. a few personal highlights for me are when y/n is wearing the VR goggles and jungkook is like yeah imma just slide my cock in real quick lmfaooo its really hot though. the sort of unraveling of the reader adds to the desperation and neediness of both of their sexual actions. its fanfuckingtastic. each part has a good dose of things we all crave: begging, whining goodness

born sinner (series) by @1kook | OUR GOOD LIL CATHOLIC BOY IS UP TO NO GOOD and its got so much of his POV and the GUILT is so well portrayed and makes the whole thing seem more taboo/intense and its just fantastic mmm. 

forbidden by @googikoo | 🔺 again, i read this more times than i can admit. its not so much loss of innocence and more like straight up NEEDY but essentially sneaky devious lil koo is dating your daughter but, obvi, he wants you ;) 

teeth by @sweetbunnykook | ITS LIGHT SMUT BUT ITS JUST REALLY HOT LIKE I CANT EXPLAIN IT JUST READ IT ITS HOT

and not to be entirely self-serving but in case you want more..i too have dabbled in this genre ;)

touch me wherever

tickle me there 

touch yourself here 

wanna touch you 

soaked n’ slippery

ALWAYS LOOKING FOR MORE!! if you know of any other fics that fit this niche please feel free to lmk!! im always looking for new reads :) this one is for my TMW readers. i know what you like hehehehe ;)

#bts smut #bts smut recs #jungkook recs #needy!jungkook #jungkook fic recs #bangtangalicious recs #yandere bts recs #jungkook smut recs #bts smut rec #jungkook smut #bts jungkook #bts yandere #yandere jungkook #bts fics #jeon jungkook smut

[vllergy]

painkillers

vesen request, 2.1 k, cold fic ty to @scatter-snz for this elite prompt i hope this is what u had in mind!!! jin-young is a cop (he has the kink because of who i am as a person) vesen is a big tall hot alien assassin aliens and humans are working together but it's still pretty new and things are awkward jin and vesen 100% fall in love with each other eventually that's basically all you need to know

It's Jin's first day being back after a record two days off. In his six years on the force, he can't remember the last time he took actual sick leave. To be fair, he doesn't get sick that often and when he does, he's aways been the type to grin and bear it. Part upbringing, part police conditioning. If you're not dead, you're fit to serve. Or at least that's the way it always has been. The Kheelen changed that. Human officers aren't spread thin these days due to the partnering initiative. So his cases that would have once fallen to the wayside in his absence now fall to his partner, Vesen. And he's expected to trust that his taciturn, ill-mannered Kheelen counterpart can handle that shit on his own when Jin is otherwise indisposed.

For the most part, Jin does. Vesen may be an ass, but he's a competent investigator. Unfortunately, he and Jin's methods when it comes to gathering information are still wildly disparate. Something he knew, but didn't truly understand the consequences of until now as he sits across their latest subject in the interrogation room.

In the two days Jin took to nurse the cold from hell, it seems Vesen has taken it upon himself to put the fear of God into this man.

The man is visibly sweating. His eyes are only focused on Jin, though every so often they twitch Vesen's direction only to snap back as if his very image is a chemical burn. His cuffed hands tremble on the steel surface of the table and he picks at his cuticles the longer they sit there. Jin doesn't blame him, necessarily. Vesen is, objectively, terrifying. Even just sitting like this you can tell he's the apex predator in the room. He's so much bigger than both Jin and the other man--he overpowers the chair and the room itself, looking comically oversized for the entire thing. Jin thinks all the Kheelen look a little silly in the human precinct, actually. Crunching themselves into tiny desks, massive hands cupping small coffee mugs, ducking under doorways--it'd be laughable if they weren't all sure the Kheelen would crush their skulls for even a giggle about it. Jin sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. Intimidating is usually an advantage in an interrogation, but whatever Vesen's done to this guy over the past two days has pushed it over the line. He's not just intimidated, he's shitting his pants. There's no way they're getting through to him now. And frankly? Jin is too tired to rectify the situation. He's still not feeling great. His head is fuzzy and dulled, his painkillers are wearing off, and part of him knows he should be back in bed. But he's legitimately worried Vesen will frighten this man to death if he leaves him alone with him for any longer, and that's a bad look for everyone. Sniffing softly, Jin blinks and tries another tactic. "We want to help you, Anish."

Vesen scoffs at this, and Jin just barely manages not to roll his eyes. "But you have to give us something to work with," he continues.

Anish shivers and shakes his head, "It doesn't matter! You know it doesn't! These bastards are taking over and they're just pretending to play nice until they don't have to anymore." Oh boy, here we go. Vesen's hackles rise, just as Jin expects. The alien leans forward, a muscle in his jaw jumping. Artificial light flickers over his lilac skin and makes his dark hair shine like ink. "You dare insinuiate my people are not here out of good faith?" he hisses, sharp canines flashing, "When you are accused of aiding in a terrorist attack against them?" Jin reaches out for his arm. Down, boy. His fingers drift over steel muscle beneath Vesen's uniform as he tries to tug him back into his seat. He's about to say something to try and reign him in when he realizes with sudden horror that he's about to sneeze instead. "Hhh?" He quickly turns away, angling himself away from the table and steepling his hands over his nose and mouth. His eyebrows crash together as an embarrassingly sharp breath snags in his lungs before-- "chhSH’iew!!"

And it's never just one. "CHshISHh’iu!"

Two is actually pretty good for him, especially with this fucking cold. He gives a tentative sniffle before raising his head and clearing his throat. The tickle abates for the moment, but he can feel it buzzing dully in the back of his sinuses, tickling in the corners of his eyes. Ordinarily, he wouldn't care. Sneezing in public isn't his favorite thing, given how he feels about the activity in general, but he's never been good at stifling so it's not something that can be avoided. But sneezing in front of Vesen is a new hell in and of itself. Without even looking, he can feel the intensity of his partner's gaze on him and it makes heat begin to crawl up his throat. Fucking hell. "Excuse me," he says with a soft sniff and clears his throat again.

At the very least, he's dispelled the tension. "Arguing about who started what or whose intentions are genuine isn't going to get us anywhere. So let's not even get into that," he says, sending Vesen a warning glance. Vesen, he suddenly notes, is staring directly at his nose. For some reason that revelation sets off a nuclear detonation in Jin's lower belly and all the blood in his body rushes south. Self-consciously, Jin rubs at his nostrils and tries to think about anything else. But that only aggravates the dormant tickle, and he has to press his tongue to the roof of his mouth to curb the impulse. "Fine," Vesen hisses, turning his eyes back to Anish, "Then let us stick to the facts." Anish gulps. Jin strokes a finger down the datapad in front of him, bringing up a few files. They could pin Anish with his money transfer trail. Or his text messages. He and Vesen haven't which way they were going to do this--they hardly ever agree anyway--but he shifts the pad closer to his partner so that he can look too. "The facts are, you are a coward, Anish," Vesen suddenly purrs, "And you will not survive a week in prison if I put you there." Jin could strangle him. He does roll his eyes this time and looks toward the ceiling, as if asking some higher power for the strength not to. "What my partner means is that you nee--" The bright lights overhead tease the last bit of the tickle out at the most inopportune time. The fuzzy, static feeling inside his head snaps like someone struck a bolt of lightning into the middle of his face. He whips to the side, his elbow in front of him and his hand braced on his opposite shoulder. "Hh--excuse meehh'IIsHH!"

He mists the inside of his elbow, shakes his head softly and then gears up for another. His breath stumbles, eyelashes fluttering. "Are you going to continue sneezing?" Vesen deadpans. "Hhhuh?" Jin blinks blearily, his cheeks going red as he tries--unsuccessfully--to pinch off the next one, "nnTTchSHH'iu!"

"Madrax. What is that inane human saying? Bless you, Jin-young."

Vesen stands as Jin pulls a crumpled tissue from his pocket and tends to his nose. In the next second, he feels his collar being tugged and himself yanked up from his chair. Feet stumbling under him, he struggles to get his balance for a moment until Vesen's large hand steadies him at the small of his back. Vesen's low voice simmers with what sounds distinctly like a threat, "We will return, Anish. Make yourself comfortable."

Then, before Jin knows what's happening, he's being guided out of the interrogation room and back into the hall. The door shuts and Vesen's hand retreats from his back. In a moment, the alien is towering before him, arms crossed over his broad chest and staring down imperiously at him. "Jin-young," he says disapprovingly. Jin blows his nose softly and retrieves another crumpled tissue. "Vesen."

"You are still ill." "I'm on the tail end of it."

"I do not wish to work with you when you are not well."

Jin scoffs, dabbing at his red nostrils, "I thought the Kheelen didn't get sick. I'm pretty sure you can't catch this."

"It is not my well-being I am concerned for."

Jin's eyebrows shoot skyward. Vesen, concerned for someone besides himself? No fucking way. He might have said as much if his nostrils didn't suddenly swell double. He crushes the tissue to his nose and mouth to muffle a tired sneeze.

"hdj'SHMMf!!"

"Bless you."

Jin blinked and gasped, "Hh'chhmpf!"

"Bless you."

Jin adjusts the tissue to try and find a dry spot, missing the next sneeze entirely and directing it to the floor. "You don't have to say it every ti-hiime--hhCH'ISSH'iu!"

"And why not? Bless you. You said it is something humans say when another sneezes. You are sneezing, are you not?"

Jin blushes darkly as he attends to his nose. Does Vesen have any idea what he was doing to him? Clearly not, or else he'd be raking him over the fucking coals for it. But somehow him being oblivious is making it so much worse. "Look who's suddenly so concerned over human-Kheelen relations," Jin gripes hoarsely, trying desperately to deflect. Anything to stop talking about him sneezing and Vesen blessing him. He'd rather be waterboarded. "You should go home, Jin-young." "And leave you to eat our sole witness alive? I don't think so." Vesen bristled, "You doubt my abilities."

"If we were torturing the guy? Not for a second. But we're trying to get him to talk to us, Ves." "Ah yes, and sneezing at him incessantly is doing the job just as well. Perhaps there is some merit to that," Vesen leans forward, grinning, "You look so unspeakably pathetic that he might take pity on you and finally tell us the truth."

Jin tosses his sodden tissues in the nearby wastebin and scrubs at his face.

"Fuck you," he groans, "Can we just go back and get this over with?"

"No, you are going home."

Vesen grabs his upper arm, his grip like a vice. Jin never really forgets how strong the Kheelen are, but every so often a brazen display hubles him completely. Vesen steers him effortlessly back down the hall without any hope of him struggling against him. "Wait, Vesen, c'mon--" He struggles anyway, just on principle. But a moment later he yanks on his grip unintentionally as he wrenches away from him with another ill-timed sneeze. "Hh'CHISSihuh!" He nearly bends double on that one and Vesen abruptly pulls him to a stop. The alien holds fast to his arm as if he can sense that Jin is going to lose his balance if he's not tethered to anything. "hah'hhCHHishh! iSSCchuh!" His ears begin to ring. Distantly, he's aware of Vesen's other hand bracing against his shoulder. That second point of contact sets his blood on fire. Before he can think too hard about that, another sneeze tickles the inside of his sinuses and he attempts to smother it with his free hand, "PpshhiSHHch!"

"Bless you," Vesen sighs as Jin straightens back up wearily, "Are you finished?"

"Yes," Jin lies and then shakes his head rapidly, turning away and pinching his nose between his thumb and forefinger, "NnghsSHH'iu!"

Vesen taps his shoulder. It almost feels...sympathetic?

"Go home, Jin-young. I will wait until you are well again to interrogate our witness."

Jin sniffles and glances up with watering eyes. "W-wait, really?" It's an unexpected gesture of charity from Vesen who has been historically uncharitable all the time he's known him. He narrows his glassy eyes, skeptical. Or at least, he tries to look skeptical despite the fact that his heart is in his throat because Vesen is still holding onto him and just watched him sneeze his head off with rapt, disgustingly erotic attention. "What's the catch?" "There is no catch. Just go before I lose my patience," Vesen said.

Jin knows better than to argue with that. Vesen is someone who loses his patience extraordinarily quickly, and it's never pretty. If he's giving him an out, Jin might as well take it.

Sniffling, Jin nods and gives him a tiny salute, "Thanks, Ves."

Vesen finally lets go of him. He grunts in response, gives him one last unreadable glance, and then turns on his heel. Before Jin can say anything else, his impossibly tall figure disappears back down the hall towards the interrogation room.

Jin isn't totally sure, but he thinks Vesen might not be such a bad guy after all.

That, and he's suddenly unreasonably horny.

#vesjin fic #vesjin #snz fic #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!!! #i write so slow and had to wait for the inspo to HIT yk #my idiots #please enjoy jin being an absolute disaster because vesen is witnessing him doing the 1 thing he would rather die than have him see #vesen is a big softie ok #snz kink #snz #snzfucker #my ocs

[reve-writes]

—ground floor; leon kennedy.

ʚ leon kennedy x agent!reader | resident evil | 1k words. ʚ leon comes to your rescue when you're trapped underground. ʚ profanities; mentions of death (no one really dies). ʚ a/n — to the anon who wanted more agent! reader. i like to think this leon and reader exists in the same universe and timeline as rotten work. they have their adventures (and endless bickering). also i could not come up with a title so we are stuck with this.

I told you so.

It's probably killing him not to say those words to you right now. Leon's face flickers on your communication device as his voice crackles through your earpiece. His jaw is taut as he glares, blue eyes serving you a disapproving look.

“Where are you?” He asks, not unkindly.

“Some sort of basement?” You reply uncertainly, looking around for a clue in your surroundings. You end up without an answer, only a steel-paneled door that looked like it belonged to a garage—although much, much bigger—and imposing blank cement walls. No windows. You remember going down the elevator. It's a metal box that reaches up your waist and you could see a blur of metal and concrete as it descended.

It's just your horrible, rotten luck that the elevator is one-way and it ascended without you up to where you originally came from, leaving you in the vast space, stocked with crates and large trucks with nowhere to go.

“That narrows it down,” he replies, sarcasm apparent. “I leave for one second—”

“Leon,” you interrupt, uneasily glancing behind you. “Save the lectures after you find me please. I don't like it here.”

Your voice comes out like a whimper and he is suddenly scared for you. Gone was the fiery, argumentative partner that was an eternal pain in his ass. He blinks rapidly, clearing his throat.

“Okay,” he says. “Where did you find the elevator?”

“Ground floor,” you recall. “Left from the room we were in. I was trying to find the bathroom.”

“Wait for me.”

“Of course, my knight in shining armour,” you answer. “Not like I can do anything else.”

He scoffs. You hear the shuffle of his trousers as he's running, boots thumping to follow your directions. You are thankful that he stays on the line with you. There's a loud clang echoing from somewhere in the vast basement.

“Leon, I think—”

You're whispering to your codec call communication device, but the screen goes dark.

Did he hang up?

Another loud clang.

After the countless amount of infected and bioweapons you've encountered with Leon since you've been dropped off here, no one can blame you for being paranoid. The light overhead flickers as if it can sense your nerves.

You reach for your handgun that is holstered on your belt.

You haven't moved far from the elevator shaft. It's on one far corner of the room. Your safest bet would be to wait near it so you can spot Leon when he comes down to your rescue.

If he can find the elevator.

You don't doubt him, but your descriptions were vague and this building is vast and maze-like. You hear another noise, louder, a staccato of a blunt force against metal. You're breathing heavily, a shiver of terror washes over you as you point your gun aimlessly.

You inhale sharply. This is fine.

You're not stupid enough to call out as you walk slowly forward. Soundlessly. Dumb as it is to try and investigate, you're locked in a square room with whatever it is anyway. Better you find it first before it finds you.

While you're quiet and careful, Leon does not know to be.

He is calling out for your name as the elevator creaks downwards, his voice echoing. You flinch, turning on your heels to make a run for it. Whatever it is that lurks here must have heard him.

When he spots you bounding towards him, he's waving his hand furiously, beckoning you to come.

“Don't look back,” he calls out, pointing his gun towards your direction, which means something is behind you. Or a lot of somethings from the thumps of footsteps. “But you need to hurry.”

“This is your fault,” you yell out, daring a peek as you're close enough to the elevator. A pack of five infected dogs slobber as they run after you. You yell out a curse.

“Told you not to look!”

To your mortification, the elevator is moving up.

“Come on!” Leon calls out, pushing his body up against the low metal walls of the elevator, extending a hand towards you. “Dammit. Come on!”

With one last, petrified push, you jump and he grabs your hand, hauling you into the safety of the ascending elevator, away from the very likely possibility of getting torn apart. The two of you stumble and fall, with you, falling on top of his well-built body. You can feel the rapid beating of his heart mirroring yours.

He groans, body going limp underneath you. “You fucking scared me.” His hand snakes around your waist.

“Hell, I scared me.” You push yourself off before you get too comfortable, rolling over to lie on the elevator floor, heaving. “Why did you hang up on me, asshole?”

He's pushing his hair out of his face. “I thought you did.”

You angle your head sideways, brow creasing as you look at him. “You being on the line kept me from going insane. Why would I hang up?”

He returns your stare with a teasing smile. “Glad to be your anchor to this world.”

“Don't flatter yourself.”

“You flatter me enough.”

“I would much rather be eaten by those—those things.” You regret it as soon as you say it. Images of blood-covered, slobbering canines running after you, baring their teeth and snapping at you for a taste will forever haunt your nightmares. If you'd been slower, or if you'd tripped over your foot, or if Leon didn't arrive in time, you would be dog food by now.

Dead.

“Hey.” Leon's voice broke you out of your stupor. His gloved hand reach for yours as you lie on the rusting metal floor. “You're okay.”

“I know. I'm fine.” You appreciatively squeeze his gloved hand. “Thank you.”

“Part of my job description, remember?” He runs his thumb over yours.

“So you keep reminding me.”

Leon pushes himself off of the ground and pulls you up with him. He dusts your shoulders off, checking you over and lets out a relieved sigh when there's no sign of injury.

“My hero, aren't you?”

“Nothing new.” He shrugs. “Let's go. Try not to get yourself into more death traps.”

You trail after him with a frown as he stalks off, handgun in hand. “Says you.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Remember that time in Europe when you—”

Leon shushes you, crouching as he holds out his palm towards you, signaling that he heard something. You roll your eyes, saving the bickering for later.

[ ].

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #—ki writes 🍯

[auroramoon-draws16]

My friend convinced me to get into Star Wars

Send help

(Warning: SPOILERS and I’m not THAT into it, so correct where you see fit)

Assassin’s Creed x Star Wars

But the Brotherhood is an ancient af group, as old or older than the og Jedi order, they’re so secretive and mysterious that not even the modern order are sure they exist. Kind of like a spooky myth?

The Force be like: “Brotherhood? What Brotherhood? I didn’t help make any Brotherhood!” We love a bad gaslighting bitch 💜

I think they’d be force users who pretty much do as their original universe do: “We work in the Dark to serve the Light.” All the tenants included.

Their sabers are small af and more blade-like, sort of like the darkblade, but crystal clear and emits very little light, they barely make any noise too. (Phantom Sabers? Maybe? That sounds cool, right?) The Assassins got the white hoods and shit too. Omfg they can finally do the Leap of Faith wherever they want! Fuck gravity! We have the fucking force!

As for Eagle Vision, I think you could pass it off as a force ability. Being able to sense feelings and danger is a thing already, so being able to do a large sweep and tag friend/foe would be a step above that. Also treasures. Like the grabby lil dragons our Assassin babies are. They need to be able to fund shenanigans on the fly, and not all of them have time to grab some from their reserves!

As for their role in the main Star Wars story, we got options:

Shoving Desmond into this shit because I can~

Desmond and his Team™️ investigate the Clone Wars shit, because the Brotherhood has always been against oppression and have been systematically wiping out slavery from several parts of the galaxy for a while now, so they would automatically get suspicious. (Clones? Meant for fighting?? For an entire republic??? With no rights of their own???? Idk man, that sounds sus. Oh and the Jedi don’t have a choice because there’s a whole ass war and it would be against their code not to do anything about it? And there’s an order to kill literally all of them at a moment’s notice? Alright, guess we’ll fix this ourselves!)

Des and the crew find the chips and save the Jedi from mass genocide. Maybe killing Palpatine, because fuck that guy.

Would they need to reveal the Brotherhood’s existence to have that happen? Probably not, but it could happen. Boy, wouldn’t that be interesting?

Also, clone shenanigans, because I love them sm

Especially Bad Batch and Domino Squad

And Rex and Cody

My poor babies

But: if the Brotherhood was weakened like in their og universe and they couldn’t investigate (lets say they were compromised by the Sith for a while before the clone wars)

+ Des was born a bit later

Time to aid the rebellion and face destiny!

(If you REALLY want to throw Des into bullshit, like I know you do: Time travel fix it fic with Luke, Leia, Han, and Desmond!)

(You may also include Mandalorian fun, because I also love the Mandos, my other babies <3 Mandalorian culture goes hard and the fics that include them have kidnapped surprise adopted me)

Y’all have fun, I’m tired ^_^💜

#assassin's creed #desmond miles #star wars #the clone wars #the prequels #idk enough about this shit #i’m winging it #the force #force bullshit this time #time travel shenanigans #the mandalorian #someone write a fic #crossover motherfuckers #obi wan kenobi is hot #desmond go flirt with him #add him to the harem #do it

[jazzthatonewriterchick]

Hit ‘Em Up! (18+ Fic)

Pairing: Cowboy!Gojo Satoru x Cowboy!Geto Suguru x Black!Cowgirl!Reader (Slow Burn/Enemies to Lovers)

Synopsis: You get to meet Geto & Gojo the Gunslingers, the notorious outlaws that have every town and law enforcement in a twist, when your bum-ass BF offers you as payment to avoid going to prison. Little do they know that this is only a part of your plan to get what you desire. But when you realize that the infamous gun-slinging, smooth-talking cowboys could be everything you want and more when they offer you a deal to team up with them, will you successfully be able to go through with it? 

Warnings: Smutty Smut; 18+ (MINOS GTFO); poly!SatouSugu; Reader is Black & Fem; Mention of other JJK characters; Porn with Plot; Tragic Backstories; T/W for Childhood Trauma, Parental Death, Violence, Panic Attacks & Torture; Angst/Hurt/Comfort; Hand Kink; Masturbation; Voyeurism; Gay Sex; Polyamorous; Double Deepthroat; Mutual Oral; Fingering; CMNF; Spitroast; Riding; Unprotected PiV Sex; Creampies; Outside/Public Sex; Shotgunning; Multiple Positions; Spit Kink; Facials; MDom/fsub Undertones; Aftercare

Disclaimer: I own none of the characters mentioned in this fic. However, as this is my writing, I do not give permission for my work to be reposted on any other sites that are not from my own accounts. Thank you!

Writer's Note: This was one of my all-time favorite chapters to write despite how sad it is. Be wanted, y'all, this one is HEAVY. Warning for parental death, violence & childhood trauma. -Jazz

Chapters: One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven. Twelve. Thirteen. Fourteen. Fifteen PT I & PT II. Sixteen. Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen. Twenty. Epilogue. Soundtrack.

********

EIGHT: GOOD DAMAGE.

“So you got a mom or dad?” Gojo asks, wearing Geto’s denim jacket as he slurps on your goodies. 

The question is so random and hard-hitting that it makes you pause from eating the bowl of soup inspired by your mother’s recipe and made with ingredients given to you by the townspeople of Bull’s Creek. 

After seeing Benji’s former bandits off to prison and receiving the thanks of the townspeople, including Miwa, Momo, Mechamaru, and Kuskabe (who does so with a nod your way), you and the gunslinging duo left Bull’s Creek and got on the road. It was only when the sun began to set and twilight sett in that you all decided to take a rest for the night. 

At that point, you had entered the mountains and found a tiny alcove near a cave and a brush of bushes and trees whose branches serve as hangers for your and Geto’s soiled clothes from the creek. Above the cave is a hot spring bubbling with hot water while down below the rocky mountainside, a field of wildflowers and fireflies that float up to meet you, lighting up the darkness the further the sun sets.

“Why don’t we rest tonight?” Geto suggested. “This will be a decent place, I think.” 

“And there’s a hot spring just above us!” Gojo excitedly said. “Ah, I could use a hot bath.” His stomach rumbles, evidently so by the sound that escapes his stomach. “And somethin’ to eat,” he sheepishly chuckled. 

You had already begun to shed your bags after tying Reneigh up with the duo’s horses up at the hot spring, letting them chomp on the wildflowers that sprout there. “Well, we’ve got all these goodies the townsfolk gave us,” you said, digging into the sack of food.

In total, the Bull's Creek folk gave you two sacks: one of food and the other of fresh clothes. Between the three of you, you divided the coin you received and kept them for yourselves. 

You looked inside the sack, pulling out each item: “Bowls, plates, bread, butter, rice, oooh, chicken broth!” Your excitement grew, happy to see such goodies.

Geto kneeled beside you, smiling fondly at the ripe tomato and the head of broccoli he found. “And all kinds of fruits n’ veggies,” he hummed, pleased with the turnout. “This will last us the whole trip if we ration well.” 

Your hand touched something soft and you pulled out a whole raw chicken. Holding it up to the duo, you gaped at it. “Uh…anybody know how to cut a whole chicken?” Two began to laugh, mostly at your hilarious reaction. “Why? You cookin’ it?” Gojo joked. 

You thought about tossing the chicken at him but decided not to. “Well, we’ve gotta eat and nothin’ beats chicken soup and wild rice.” Geto looked at you, shocked. “Oh…I was gonna cook for us.” But Gojo is pleasantly surprised, hands on his slim hips. “What a change of heart, little miss! Ya must like us now.” 

You glared at him as you began to set up the steel pot for cooking. “Don’t push ya luck, boy,” you snapped. “You two can set up camp while I cook.” You stood up and hurried up the slanted, smooth rock to the hot spring to wash your hands, mostly to get away from them. “Ah, so you tryna do the easy work!” Gojo called out to you, but you didn’t answer. 

Once you finished, you busied yourself building a small fire using some loose twigs, branches, and one of Gojo’s matches before preparing to cook. You roasted the chicken first which Geto kindly sliced the chicken up for you using one of your pocket knives. You had to turn the spit periodically on the fire while chopping vegetables (carrots, peas, broccoli, corn), so it was a lot of running back and forth. 

But you didn’t mind. You love cooking. Fixing something to eat is the one time you feel normal. It’s what makes you feel close to the people you left behind in your childhood, including your old self. 

Once the chicken is done roasting, its skin golden brown and juicy, you slice in into strips. You then fill the pot up with hot water from the spring, boil it, and fix the rice until its fluffy and white. Finally, you pour the chicken broth into the pot with the rice, sliced vegetables, and chicken, stirring it with a big wooden spoon you found in Geto’s bag. 

Speaking of Geto, he and Gojo set up camp during your cooking session. They set up sleeping bags, yours included, and place a blanket underneath to keep the dirt out of them. They set their boots, hats, and jackets aside, separated from your things. It seemed that they gave you your own spot, allowing you privacy and space. You appreciated that. 

Once the soup was finished, you announced that dinner was done and stood in front of the pot when they came running with their wooden bowls. “Hold up!” you exclaimed, putting out a hand to stop them. “Y’all wash y’all hands?”

The two looked at each other cluelessly which gave you you’re answer. “Hurry up before it gets cold,” you said and they went scurrying up the hill like rabid dogs, making you giggle to yourself. 

Minutes later, they returned and helped themselves to the meal. You sat down on a log with your own bowl, stretching your legs out. The duo sat on either side of you in a circle, passing a bottle of Jack between the three of you and ripping off pieces of bread to dip in your soup.

Gojo was sloppy, slurping greedily at his meal and making you wonder about some naughty shit. “Mmm, shit!” he moaned. “This is the best soup and rice I’ve ever had in my life!” 

In contrast to his partner, Geto was neat, taking his time eating his meal and (once again) making you mind wander. “I agree,” he sighed. “You’re quite the cook, little miss. Truly gifted.” Both compliments made your stomach flip. “Thank you,” you softly say, barely above a whisper as you took a sip of the Jack. It let a burn in your throat that you eased with the warm, hearty soup. 

Then came the burning question: “So you got a mom or dad?” 

You sit here now, the soup just at your mouth. Gojo looks at you expectantly, still slurping down his bowl. “Satoru,” Geto firmly says and shakes his head. Gojo raises an eyebrow, not understanding that this is a hot button topic. 

“No, it’s fine,” you protest. I suppose it’s only fair to tell you since y’all have told me so much about your lives.” You lower your spoon into your bowl, the fire crackling in front of you. “I have a mom and dad, yes, but adopted. I never knew my birth dad, but my birth mom always told me he was a rollin’ stone.” You chuckle to yourself. “Guess that meant he was a playboy.” 

You nod at the simmering pot on the ire. “This is my adopted mom’s recipe.” Geto smiles fondly, taking a swig of Jack. “Well, now I can see who you got such a gift from. Is she a cook?” 

You shake your head. “Not professionally, no. She’s a schoolteacher. My adopted dad is a farmer.” Gojo hums thoughtfully, chomping on some bread. “Where’s your birth mother now?” he curiously asks. “Still in your hometown?” 

You don’t think twice about it. You don’t even hesitate. “She was murdered,” you blurt. The silence that follows after this is deafening. The duo stare at you as if you just told them you’re pregnant. Placing the bowl aside, you tu​​rn to the crackling fire, not wanting to look at them and see their pity. 

“I was a little girl when a bunch of outlaws invaded my town,” you explain to the flames. “They ransacked every store, destroyed every home, and killed nearly every single person…including my mom.” You can feel yourself going back to that time, your mother’s terrified eyes behind your eyelids when you blink. A hot rush of tears begins to build.

Sensing your discomfort, Geto steps in. “You don’t have to go on,” he soothingly says. But you shake your head. “It’s okay.” “No, it’s not,” you argue, forcing the tears away. “I need to tell you why I hate outlaws so much. I need to tell you why I am the way I am.” 

You turn back to them, staring them in the eye. “But y’all are sure you wanna hear this?” you wryly joke. “I have to warn y’all that it’s quite long and tragic.” And the two stare you right back in the face. “I thought we already established that we’re ones for long and tragic backstories, darlin’,” Gojo replies. “Take your time.” 

Geto passes you the bottle of Jack and you take a much-needed swig. “I was nine years old when they came,” you begin and the memories come flooding back like a tidal wave. 

********

The summer you turned ten years old was supposed to be a joyous one. 

It was supposed to be a day where you and your mother spent the day in your hometown of Pinewood, known for its farms and heavy population of flowers.

Your mom would usually wake you up with pancakes covered in strawberries and whipped cream (your favorite), presents, and then take you into town to the bakery, the library, the movies, the fruit orchard to pick peaches and plums, or any other place a young girl like you would love to visit for her special day. 

But that was further from the case. It was only two weeks until you turned ten that your home was destroyed and burned to the ground. 

Pinewood was once a small but humble town of a couple hundred people. Everyone knew each other and there was community. Adults looked after neighbors’ children late at night and pies were brought over to welcome newcomers to the town. Farmers, teachers, landscapers, florists, bakers and cooks, etc…you would find them all here, building their lives and careers. 

The autumns were crisp and the summers were warm. This particular summer night you remember you were asleep in your bed, the sound of buzzing cicadas having hummed you to sleep earlier. Your bedroom, pink, cozy, and girly, was still except for you–the sleeping girl in her pony PJs. But late into the night, you awakened, feeling compelled by something to do so. 

You sat up in bed and looked out the window. Your backyard of honeysuckle and your mom’s prized vegetable garden looked back at you. The sweet summer breeze blew your curtains around like pink wisps. You don’t know why you woke up. You usually can sleep through a tornado. But this time, you couldn’t. 

Something felt…wrong.

You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. And then you realized it: the cicadas had stopped singing. A warm night that was usually filled with the buzzing song of the cicadas in the trees had ceased, leaving the night eerily quiet.

Then, suddenly, your bedroom opened, and in rushed your mother. You were too deep in your sleep fog to see that she was frazzled and scared, still in her nightgown and slippers. 

“Mama?” you mumbled sleepily, rubbing at your eye. “What’s going on?”

She came over and ripped the covers off of you. “Baby, get up,” she hurriedly said, pulling you out of bed by your arm. “C’mon, get your slippers on and follow me.” 

You stared at her, confused and still sleepy. “But, Mama–” 

“Stop it, Y/N!” she yelled. You are startled, confused, and afraid. Your mother had never yelled at you like this before.

And then you saw her eyes: wild and scared like a cornered animal. It scared you. “We need to go now,” she firmly said. “Now get on your slippers and let’s go.” This time, you didn’t argue or protest. You slipped on your slippers and took your mom’s hand. 

She squeezed it as she led you out of your bedroom and down the hallway, walking past the bathroom, kitchen, dining area, and laundry room. Your home was a ranch, so it was only one floor with the bedrooms located at the back. Your mom guided you to the front door but looked back at you before she opened the door.

“Follow me,” she instructed. “Don’t let go of my hand, understood?” She didn’t wait for you to answer. 

After unlocking the door, she yanked the door open. You still wish she hadn’t. Your town, once blossoming with businesses, cozy homes, and life was now burning.

Flames that exploded from buildings licked the night sky. Crops were on fire. Guns exploded in your eardrums that sounded like firecrackers. People and animals alike ran for cover and safety. People in black clothing and bandanas covering their mouths ran after them, hooting and hollering. Some of these intruders also ran in on horses, rifles and pistols drawn. 

You didn’t see any bodies, thank God, but it didn’t matter. The trauma was already set in your body from that very moment you and your mother stood outside of your home in the chaos. 

“Mama, what’s happening?!” you yelled, pulling on her hand. 

She then began to run with you, hurrying down the road. “I don’t know, baby,” she answered, “but we’ll be okay! Just don’t let go of me.” You didn’t, but someone did it for you. As you were running with your mom, you unfortunately didn’t get that far away from your house when you suddenly felt two arms snatch you away. 

You screamed, wriggling around in the stranger’s arms. Your mother looked back and rushed to help you, but she too was grabbed by another stranger in black and tossed to the ground. “Mommy!” you squealed.

You tried to struggle out of the arms binding you, but your mom’s assaulter took out a long-barreled pistol and pointed it at your mother’s temple. “Shut up, you little brat,” he snarled. “Keep that mouth shut or your ma gets it.” 

You immediately went quiet and the bandit behind you cackled. Despite his own bandana covering his mouth, you could smell the booze on his breath. You looked down at his hands around you. One of them had a rose tattoo on his knuckles. 

The bandit nodded at your ranch. “Nice house ya got here, bitch,” he chuckled. “Even nicer land. I bet ya got some pretty pennies for a pad like this, eh?” He crouched down beside your mother. She lied in the dirt on her side, her clothes ruined and her knee scraped by her fall. 

“No,” she whimpered. “My people are humblefolk. We don’t have much money and neither do I, especially with a child.” 

The bandit took a handful of her coiled hair in his fist, yanking her up. “So you callin’ me a liar?” he snarled. “I don’t like bitches who talk back, y’know.” He cocked his gun at her, but your mother was afraid like you were watching. “I don’t have what y’all are lookin’ for!” she snapped. “Please just let us go!” 

The bandit tossed her down and shared a look with his partner. “If you don’t give us money then you’ll have to give us somethin’ else,” he growled at your mother. “How much you think her kid will cost, man?” The bandit hugged you to him, making a show of caressing your face. “Mmm…’bout a couple hundred at least.” 

You shook in terror. What did they mean? Were they going to take you away from your mother? She seemed to know what they meant though and looked like she wanted to murder both bandits. “You wouldn’t do that,” she hissed. “You know damn well that the law is already out for y’all for this, so you’d only be sinkin’ your ship farther if you do anything to my daughter.” 

The bandit pressed the bun to her temple, laughing. “You think we give a fuck about the law, bitch?” he cackled, tossing his head back. “The law won’t ever find us and half of them are pussies anyway. The bossman is like the Boogeyman to them.” Your mother’s expression softened and she suddenly looked hopeless. That scared you even more. 

The bandit smirked and pressed the gun to her chin. “Now what should we do about that mouth of yours?” he whispered. His partner chuckled suggestively. “I’ve got a few ideas,” he sniggered. Despite the gun in her face, your mother turned her head to you, her eyes glassy but filled with acceptance. “Y/N, my little flower,” she tearfully said. “I love you.” 

Before you could even blink, she bit down on the bandit’s hand hard. Hard enough to draw blood. The bandit screamed as he pulled his hand away now coated in deep, bloody teethmark. 

“Oh, you bitch,” he spat. “Now you’ve pushed your luck.” He took her by her hair again and threw her down onto her stomach execution style. 

“Mama, no!” you wailed, reaching for her. She looked up at you, eyes wild and dirt caked to her face. “Run, Y/N!” she screamed. “Run until you reach the fields!” 

As your fight or flight kicked in, you elbowed the bandit behind you in the stomach, loosening his grip. Just as you turned to run, two shots ran out behind you. You never turned around to see if it was your mother. You just knew it was.

So you ran as you cried, your eyes blurred with salty tears and fear pumping in your blood. “Get that little bitch!” the bandit yelled, pointing at you. 

Hooves began to thud against the ground behind you, but you didn’t turn. You didn’t stop. You just ran, something pulling you along despite your fatigue. You still don’t know if it was God, your mother’s spirit, or just your will to live. Either way, it got you all the way down to the cornfields three minutes outside of your town. 

At this point, the sound of the bandits behind you faded, but you knew they would eventually gang up on you. Wheeled wooden carts sat beside the fields that usually were used to deliver food, flowers, and other deliveries into other towns. You chose quick and jumped into the back of one cart of flowers. You hid deep beneath the many plants, petals, and bulbs, keeping quiet. 

Even as you heard the horses and saw torches flash beneath the flowers, you held your breath and imagined yourself as but a rock. A head of corn. A flower like the ones surrounding you. 

“Where’d she go?” he gruffly asked. A light flashed in your face and you coveved your mouth. 

“I think I saw her go in here,” his partner said before they walked into the cornfields together. You didn’t move even as the light vanished. Even as the rustling of the corn stalks got further away. Even when all you heard were the bandits’ horses chuffing to one another.

You don’t know how long you had been there–minutes? Hours?–, but suddenly, you heard footsteps and hooves beside you and then the cart moved slightly as someone got in the front to drive off. And then the cart began to move, taking you away and into the unknown. 

‘The unknown’ turned out to be Elden Valley, a small town a two-day travel away from Pinewood. It is home to humble, quiet folk. Humble, quiet folk like Eren Tokiyami, an older farmer with salt-and-pepper hair and calloused hands, and his wife Yuri, a longtime baker.

Eren and Yuri ordered flowers and seeds specifically from your town’s florist to plant and decorate the outside of Yuri’s bakery. Imagine their surprise to find a scared, dirty, and traumatized little girl lying beneath the bed of tulips and petunias. 

You found yourself in a barn smelling of manure and animals. Yuri covered her mouth while Eren stared down at you like he couldn’t believe you were real. “My God,” he gasped. “Where’d you come from, little one?”

You could barely speak. You hadn’t had water or food in two days. “P-Pinewood,” you whispered, and then everything went black when you passed out in Eren’s arms. 

After taking you to the town’s doctor and nursing you back to help, the couple adopted you as their own. The town of Elden Valley and all others in the county heard of the massacre of Pinewood. Dozens of people died, including your mother, but you didn’t any any detectives or coroners telling you that. 

For nine years, Eren and Yuri fed you, dressed you, and cared for you. But it wasn’t enough to thaw you. It wasn’t enough to melt the ice that had formed and hardened around your heart and soul.

You had grown tough, taking your anger out on kids at school and constantly skipping to ride horses. It was when you turned sixteen that you met Reneigh for the first time who was no more than a stubborn, violent horse that Eren recently saved from an abusive owner. 

You felt like she was just like you and maybe she did too, so she was always calm in your presence and became yours. Eren and Yuri thought that with Reneigh, along with some guidance and love, you would be able to get back on track. You did for a little while. You baked pies with Yuri, planted crops with Eren, studied, and graduated from school. 

Then, one day, you just left.

It was a month after you graduated at age eighteen. You knew you couldn’t spend your life in Elden Valley, pretending that vengeance and bloodlust weren’t inside of you. To do something constructive with that anger, you took one of Eren’s many guns that he taught you how to use and went out to the woods beyond his and Yuri’s house. In the blue of dawn, you set up an old glass bottle there and stood yards away from it. 

As Eren taught you, you kept still and calm, aimed, and shot. You missed. So you tried again. And again. And again. Every morning before your parents awakened, you went out to practice in secret. And every time you drew that gun and shot, you were better. Quicker. Sharper. Then, one day, you finally it: you aimed and the bottle broke. You knew what you had to do from that very moment. 

So after a night of dinner with your parents and telling them how much you loved them, you waited until they went to sleep to pack, tossing everything you could into a bag. Including two of Eren’s pistols. You hid your identity behind a cowgirl hat and bandana, forever your disguise. 

Before you left, you wrote a letter to your parents, not wanting to leave them without any last words: 

Dear, Mama & Papa, 

I’m sorry for all of the trouble I’ve caused you over the last nine years. I thank you both from the bottom of my heart for taking me in as your own. I’ll never forget your kindness. It is what is needed in such a cruel world. Please don’t come looking for me and don’t worry about me. Just know that I’m fine. If I never see you again, I love you both endlessly. Thank you for giving me back my innocence.

Love, Y/N.

And like a thief in the night, you hopped on Reneigh and you were gone. And so the Fatale Femme was born. You didn’t feel anything when you caught your first outlaw body…only more vengeance.

It got stronger the more you killed. The more you fled. The more you pulled that trigger. You have been doing this for so long that you believed that this coldhearted tyrant is you now. For so long you thought you had lost yourself and only the Fatale Femme remained. 

But now, sitting here among two outlaws, feared and loved by many, you feel as if you’re finally getting yourself back. Geto and Gojo stare at you in the firelight, sadness in their eyes. You sit there, ravaged by your past and trembling.

“I never thanked y’all for savin’ my life today,” you say. “I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry I didn’t see that y’all are different from the others. I’m sorry that I didn’t want to acknowledge it.” 

Tears begin to slip down your cheeks, too hot and too quick to stop. The real you, outside of the bandana, the guns, and the cool exterior, has been released. “That’s why I do what I do,” you tearfully explain. “That’s why I am what I am. That’s why I need to find Benji.” 

Geto puts his gloved hand in yours, warm and comforting. “And we’ll help you,” he softly promises. “We had a deal, remember? We’re a team now, so do you ever go thinkin’ you’re alone in this.”

His brown eyes are firm but gentle, reminding you so much of Eren’s. “Thank you for sharin’ with us and I know you won’t believe me, but I know your parents are proud of you, includin’ your birth mother.” 

He offers a smile that seems to melt you. When Gojo gets up to move next to you, squeezing you between them, you feel like you’re about to turn into a puddle. You feel nothing but warmth that overwhelms you in the best possible way. It is foreign and weird, but good. Real good. 

Gojo’s blue eyes sparkle at you, as beautiful and as alluring as the fireflies that float amongst you. “Did I ever tell ya about the time I got my ass stuck on a bear trap?” he randomly asks. “Oh, or that one time Geto got eaten up by leeches?”

Geto rolls his eyes as he puts his hair back into a long ponytail. “Damn, you tellin’ her that one?” he sighs. 

And that’s when you realize that the strange warmth you’re feeling is gratitude. You smile at Gojo and wipe your tears, knowing he would ask you to. “N-No,” you giggle through a sniffle. “I don’t believe you have.” 

For the rest of the night, you laugh and drink with the duo, not a single care in the world despite your past and scars. At some point, the alcohol rears its ugly head and pulls you down into the ink black of a booze-induced sleep. You pass out in front of the fire and barely feel Gero cover you with a blanket...and lightly kiss you on the forehead. “The sweetest dreams, Y/N,” he coos. “We’ll try to have the same.” 

When the long-haired outlaw sits up on his knees after closely examining the way the flames of the fire flicker across your beautiful face and the serene expression you wear, he looks at Gojo who wears an equally pained look. “You feel it too,” he states.  

Geto looks down at you again and sighs a heavy, tired sigh. “Yeah,” he replies. 

“So we’re fucked," Gojo once again states.

And Geto, now looking up at the stars for answers, once again sighs, “Yeah.”

#black fanfic writer #smutty smut #my works #black coded reader #my fic shit #black writers #jjk smut #cowboy gojo #cowboy geto #satosugu #satoru gojo x black!reader #suguru geto x black!reader #cowboy!au #cowboy!geto #cowboy!gojo #poly smut #poly love

[delusionally-loveless-by-choice]

Lost in a cornfield..? Pt2

Scarecrow!Phillip Graves x Lost!Reader

summary: You learn a bit more about Mr. Scarecrow! There's something he wants to show you? What can that be?

warnings: horror aspects coming in later in the chapter >:), mention of blood, likely incorrect depictions/references to wrong periods because I forgot that light bulbs weren't invented until like 1879 (googled it), he kinda turns dark so big contrast to the first part loll

w/c - 2k

Part 1, Part 3

Author's note: its ass and its got a part 2 :)) also on ao3 under Phillip graves tag. also I know this is not a Phillip graves gif, I just wanted something to fill in so I might change it later

Oh, God, what hell is this place? You can’t help the horrified look that sits on your face, it’s paralyzing and a moment of vulnerability. 

One that the scarecrow catches.

He stares at you, watching the realization finally sink into you, and he can’t help the grin that stretches on his face as he watches your expression.

He sighs, clearly amused. “I don’t just protect this ‘cornfield’. In all honesty, this land is strange compared to the one you know.” His tone was matter of factly, “I’m a guardian of sorts, one that is bound to serve it. It’s more work than it sounds, but this job isn’t really my choice, more of a burden and purpose, y'know.” 

“This land.. It’s dangerous.” He makes sure to face you directly as he says this, you can feel the intensity of his tone. “There are things in the field that would do anything in its power to take advantage of your vulnerability. It also doesn't help that you’re their favorite meal: human.” He says the last part with an air of amusement; and though he’s looking at you, the way his straw hat is tilted, it hides a clear view of his eyes. 

His response doesn’t help your wariness. 

The scarecrow seems to take note of this. 

He then says, “But I’m not gonna let that happen.”

You nod and exhale a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “Well that’s reassuring.” You nervously chuckle. But it’s only slightly reassuring to your instincts that tell you that this field, this place, is more than dangerous.

"Just remember: this place has its creatures, but it has me too." He pauses, then adds: "I've lived here ever since I was a kid, so I know every nook and cranny of the field. Ain't no pest that's gonna sneak past me."

You see something move further within the corn. Graves snaps his fingers, and the plants rustle to block a pathway. "If we head left, we'll bypass these critters."

“Did.. did you just control the field..?” You ask bewildered. 

"Yes... The corn is a living, breathing organism. I can influence its growth and motion to an extent. The plants listen to my will." The scarecrow replies simply.

He pauses, and grabs your wrist to make you look at him. "Don't worry. The field is friendly to me--I grew up here, after all."

You look up at him, you finally get a look at eyes. They were blue but there was a yellow haze that slightly glowed further reminding you he was far from human. Whatever he was, he was terrifyingly beautiful, in the sense that you didn’t know what he was. Perhaps he was just a true eldritch horror. 

He pulls you along to walk after him.

No, he can’t be that.. Those are monsters after all.. and he’s a guardian, not a monster! You reassure yourself.

As you think and walk, you are reminded of his presence by the yellow haze of his eyes glancing toward you. He lazily turns his head away from you.

You can’t help but ask him, “How.. old are you, Scarecrow..?” this curious whisper of yours makes his ears perk.

He takes a minute to respond, as if he was thinking.

“I’ve been around for about… two-hundred and thirty years, or so.” He finally replies. “Thankfully my age and good looks don’t seem to go hand in hand,” he chuckles. 

The scarecrow smiles, then adds: "I'm proud that I've kept this place safe for so long--doing my duty, serving my purpose."

You don’t do much to mask your surprise. 

“Oh, that’s.. a long time..” You muttered.

Both of you walk for a bit, before you decide to speak again. 

“Uh.. so is there ever an end to this field? Or where are we going?” You asked, it wasn’t in an irritated tone but it sounded so.

He let out a short dry chuckle. “Sort of.. the best you're getting for an exit or end here is the house.” 

Finally with a smooth swift gesture with his hand, the corn in front of the both of you opens up.

There then lies a large acre of land, one that wasn’t infested with the corn. Though it was surrounded by the endless crop, in the middle sat a farmhouse.

It looked abandoned. A home that hadn’t taken up well with time.

The white paint was peeling, the wood of the home looked rotten. One storm, and the house is reduced to nothing.

Yet, there the home stood.

As he walked towards it without a second thought, you were gagged. 

Oh fuck, you distastefully think, but if he said it’s “a way out”.. Guess I shouldn’t judge..

“Follow me, this big ol’ thing has too many hidden entrances and exits.. I’ll take you through the safest.” he gestured for you to follow him as he made his way to the back of the farmhouse. 

You politely nod and follow him, trying to mask the faces you make at the house. 

He turns around to face you, walking backwards as he proudly says, “This beauty is the safest place to escape to in the fields.”

You smile at his pride, it's admirable and slightly adorable with that grin he has on. 

Though, as you look at him, your eyes trail down to his left side. On his waist, his flannel shirt adorns a large red stain.

You grab him by the arm and make him stop walking. A worried face plastered on, you ask, “A-Are you bleeding? Oh God..!”

"Huh? Oh, this?" The scarecrow asks, looking down at the stain, he seems unconcerned by your discovery of blood on him. "It's nothing, just old blood. I've been hurt in these fields many times before, and I've made it out alive."

“But this blood, it ain’t mine, darlin’,” he says with a sheepish grin. Almost like he’s trying to reassure you. But it seems to do the opposite, until you remember the encounter you two had earlier with that critter, as he calls them.

“Oh..” you mumbled. 

He gently pried your hand off of his arm, and started walking again. This time he directly leads you to the entrance he was talking about.

There are weeds, and junk, and rotten pieces of wood lying around. Then finally, there is a shitty little “door” that looks more like someone tried to board a window up instead of a door.

He unhooks the latch and pries open the door.

A wave of dust and spiderwebs go flying, and inside there lies only darkness. 

“C’mon, let’s head in.. there’s something I wanna show ya..” he says excitedly. 

You watch him duck and make his way in, and it doesn’t take longer than three seconds for you to follow after him in fear of being left behind.

It seems it was a basement of sorts that you entered through. It was dark so it was hard to see, but his blue eyes held that yellow glow that seemed to be all he needed to see.

He walked up some stairs and unlocked a door, one that presumably led to the main level of the farmhouse. 

“This way!” he called over to you.

You followed him deeper into the farmhouse.

He was slightly more ahead of you, solely because you were simultaneously looking around at the inside of the farmhouse.

In the main level of the home, there was some light shining from the orange hued sun outside that came in from the boarded up windows. 

The house smelled of wet wood and dust. Not surprising. 

What was slightly surprising was the furniture and general state of the home. The furniture looked so old.. very 1790. If the home was well taken care of maybe the entire place would seem homely.

Instead it felt haunted.

Not innately sinister, but just abandoned. By the owners and time.

You finished looking and turned a corner to find him. 

He stood at another staircase, holding his straw hat.  

This one clearly led to the second story. 

“All done?” he asked with a grin as he set the hat on the railing of the staircase.

“Guess so..” You mumbled and grumbled. “I thought you were taking me out of this place, not deeper into it. This farmhouse is probably dead in the center of this place with all the endless cornfield surrounding it!” 

“In time,” he quickly says, “right now it’s best that you’re here. The farmhouse,” he pouts his lips in a manner that makes it seem like he’s picking his words wisely, “has its own set of.. securities.”

His eyes make it back to yours, and before you can answer he speaks again. “Now you ready for what I wanna show you?” he asked with a grin. 

It was charming and alluring; his pearly fangs poking out and dimples on display.

It was enough to make any thoughts, defenses, and protests you had melt away.

You find yourself rolling your eyes and smiling back at him. 

“Alright.. what do you want to show me?” you finally ask with a raised brow.

“Jus’.. follow me.. It ain’t something I show to just anyone..” he says as he turns and starts to make his way up the stairs.

As you follow him up the stairs, he walks down a hallway, it’s not very well lit. 

You see the shitty discolored floral wallpaper that was definitely put up later in the owners residency from 1790. Behind the wallpaper you see the cracked walls and rotten wood that somehow surpassed the weird time.

Even in the shitty lighting you make out pictures that are hung up on the wall.

They show a family, a big one. 

One that probably lived in the house at some point and were the last known occupants before it turned into whatever it was now.

“Was this your family?” You ask him. 

He only hums, and you take that as all the confirmation you were gonna get.

You tear your eyes away from the wall and see him standing at the last door of the hallway.

It was especially dark, and for some reason you felt your body start to feel like it wanted to run. 

“C’mere, in here.” he says with that same charming grin, it makes you want to trust him even when your body is starting to vibrate with the urge to run.

He goes to open the door, and of course it creaks when it opens, it’s an old ass house.

And of course the inside is dark as shit, there’s no electricity, the house is from the near 1800s.

“After you,” his charming southern accent rings like sweet honey, and you walk right into the room.

He of course follows right after you and shuts the door behind him. 

The bit of light that shone from the hallway disappeared.

The sound of the door closing, the consumption of the room in darkness, and the click of the door being locked, cause you to turn around in the now dark to face the direction for which you think he is in.

The darkness doesn’t last, with a snap of his finger candles are set and the room is illuminated in a dim light.

Finally you get a good look at the room.

It’s small, and it smelled putrid.

You saw that the boarded up windows had curtains, but the material wasn’t cloth.

“What is..” you trailed off as the slow realization creeped in.

It was skin. 

Human skin. 

Your head reeled, you turned and saw that the rest of the room was adorned in furniture that was also made up of patches and pieces of skin stitched together. 

Your eyes wide, they searched desperately around the room but were only met with skin.

It covered every surface. 

The floor, the walls, the furniture. 

It was all human skin.

There were even a few faces stitched into the wall and ceiling, portraits that blended into the wall. 

Confused teary eyes wildly looked around the room.

You whipped around to find the scarecrow. He stood right where he had been, leaning on the locked door, the same grin plastered on his face.

This time it did nothing to ease you. Instead it felt sinister, taunting.

Your trembling lips try to say something but your voice dies in your throat.

Finally that southern voice you had some to familiarize yourself with spoke, his tone sickeningly sweet and that yellow hue in his eyes burned like the candles that lit the room, “What ya think? Beautiful, right darlin’?.”

#dlbc~🤍 #phillip graves x reader #graves x reader #phillip graves #phillip graves cod #cod graves #cod mw2 fanfic #phillip graves fanfic #phillip graves x you #graves x female reader #phillip graves x female reader #graves x you #cod x reader #call of duty x reader #graves cod #phillip graves mw2 #graves mw2 #graves mwii #philip graves x reader #philip graves

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

For You, I Would Ruin Myself | Bucky Barnes x Reader

Hi! This is a very self-serving fic lol. This is, indeed, something I do! Because of all of the shitty relationships I’ve been in! But of course I don’t have a person to be nice to me about it lol.

Warnings: talk of sex, shitty exes, stressful work environment

—————————

Bucky didn’t like how you slumped against the front door. He didn’t like the vacancy in your eyes or the downtrodden look on your face. “Hey, baby. Long day?” He joined you by the door and welcomed you into his arms. He smoothed a hand through your fallen curls, let his lips rest against your forehead. For nearly two weeks, you’d come home like this. Exhausted. Depleted. Bucky hated it. He hated your boss and your company and all of your clients.

Your head fell into his shoulder, and you nodded against his shirt. It was all you could muster. You just wanted a moment. A moment of calm and quiet and peace. Bucky gave you all the time you needed. He left kisses against your hair and gently slipped your bag from your shoulder. He was always so patient with you, so understanding. 

“I haaate my job,” you groaned. “My department head is a fucking idiot and I swear the manager wants to stick her hand up my ass so she can use me as a puppet”.

Bucky stifled his loud guffaw. Even half-dead, you were still the funniest person he’d ever met. “I’m sorry, sweets. Is there an end in sight to this nightmare or…?”

You lifted your head from his shoulder and groaned again. You seemed groan a lot these days. “Not yet. We’re just supposed to ‘keep on truckin’ until we get word from corporate”.

Bucky frowned, “But you’ve been going in early and coming home late.”

“I know. I’m so tired that I wanna die.”

Dark circles shadowed your under-eyes. Bloody cracks dug into your cuticles. The stress wanted to pick you apart piece by piece until nothing remained. But what bothered you most wasn’t the deadlines or the endless emails. It was your severe lack of time with Bucky.

“I’m sorry I’ve been so busy lately, Buck. I feel terrible. I know you’re-”

Bucky brought his hands to your cheeks, silencing you. He felt the weight of your head resting against his palms, like your neck decided to take a long-needed break. “Don’t apologize, doll. I understand, okay? I just don’t like seeing you so exhausted. Seems to me like they’re taking advantage of you.”

You nodded. Unfortunately, your company’s bottom line didn’t look good. And the way they stripped money and resources from every department seemed almost criminal. They’d overwork and underpay every member on staff if it meant happy shareholders. And one of those overworked, underpaid employees was you. “If I can just hang on,” you sighed. “If I can just make it through this rough patch and impress the CFO, they’ll promote me- my project manager is sure of it. Things just suck right now.”

Bucky didn’t like the way they treated you. He didn’t like the long hours or the way they expected you to do the work of two- or three- people for the salary of one. He watched as this job slowly drained the life out of you. Each time you returned home, your light was a bit dimmer. And it took even more effort to help you shine again. 

“But I’m gonna stop complaining now,” you said. A manufactured smile replaced your frown, “Tell me about your day, babe.”

Bucky shrugged. “Nothing exciting to report. Long briefing at the compound this morning. Meeting with Hill. Errands. Some laundry. Read over some intel Fury sent my way.” He dotted a kiss to your nose, “And I want you to complain as much as your little heart desires”.

You shrugged. Surely, Bucky didn’t wanna hear you ramble on about trailing averages. And you weren’t about to bore him with work-talk. “I’m good for now”, you shot him a wink. You decided instead to let your gripes scream inside your head. Bucky had been tortured enough, you wouldn’t bore him with statistical analysis.

“Okay, then how about we order some food and you can change into some comfy clothes? We have a new episode of Temptation Island to watch. Sound good?”

“Sounds great”, you said through a yawn.

“Then let’s pick a restaurant and get you some dinner. What do you wanna eat?”

Bucky watched your switch flip in real time. Your posture changed, your eyes brightened. A devilish grin stretched across your face. “I think you know what I wanna eat…”

Bucky eyed you, “um… pasta and garlic knots from Italiano’s?”

Oh, Bucky. So sweet. So innocent.

“No, babe-”, you sighed. “You.” One finger traced lazily across his bottom lip before trailing down his neck and hooking into the collar of his shirt. 

Bucky shook his head and gave you a chuckle. How you’d gone from downtrodden, overworked employee to sultry seductress baffled him. “Doll, what am I gonna do with you?”

“You could fuck me.” 

Bucky cocked his head to the side, “Am I crazy? Weren’t you just talking about how exhausted you are?”

You shrugged, “I mean, yeah. I’m exhausted, but I also wanna fuck you. Two things can be true at the same time, Barnes.”

This was just like you. Bucky loved your hunger for him, your needy lust. He found you nearly insatiable twenty four-seven, and loved every moment of it. You always wanted him. Always needed him desperately in bed. Or the shower. Or on the floor when the bedroom was too far away. You’d sent countless nudes that made missions more bearable. And the paragraph long texts in which you described everything you wanted him to do to you always made his cheeks flush. How your sex drive kept up with his was still a mystery. But he wasn’t complaining.

“Okay,” he laughed, “well let’s put food at priority number one, doll” 

“But wouldn’t you rather eat something else, Buck?”

He brought his hands to either side of your face and narrowed his eyes at you, “I just heard your stomach growl. And you just said that you’re so tired you wanna die.” He swept a thumb over your cheek and grew serious. “Let yourself rest tonight, okay? Let’s eat and relax and go to bed early.”

He expected it- but still laughed at your over-dramatic wink. “No, not like that. We’ll go to sleep early. You need it.”

He sent you to the bedroom with strict instructions to put on pajamas, “I mean, actual pajamas!” he called after you. “No lingerie!” Bucky couldn’t believe the words coming out of his mouth- no lingerie? He’d never imagined saying that to you. But he could keep it in his pants for a night or two if it meant that you got some much needed rest. He kissed you goodbye each morning at five and welcomed you home every night around eight- it was too much. Too much overtime, too many hours spent getting yelled at by your boss. And not nearly enough rest or time for yourself. 

“Alright, does this pass your ‘real pajamas’ test?” You did a quick spin for Bucky, revealing your outfit for the rest of the night: one of his shirts and a pair of cute underwear. “We both know I usually sleep naked soooo I feel like this is more than appropriate for ‘pajamas’.”

Bucky covered his face and granted you a nod. He didn’t want to make you feel weird or possibly spark some sort of self-consciousness in you, but the question gathering at the tip of his tongue had plagued him for months. He’d batted it away time and time again, banishing it to the back of his mind. But it returned, and he wanted an answer.

“Can I ask…” he cleared his throat. “Are you satisfied with- do we have enough sex? Am I giving you what you need?” He cringed. It was so awkward. So clunky. He truly couldn’t believe how clumsy his words were. But it was important.

Alarm shot through you. “Absolutely, Buck,” you gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Our sex life is perfect- you’reperfect.”

You made your way to the couch and leaned against the back. There was something in the look you wore. Embarrassment? Dejection? Bucky wasn’t sure. But he knew it was his fault. And it wasn’t good. Before he could apologize, however, you mumbled something nearly unintelligible.

“I’m doing it again…” you muttered to yourself with a shake of your head. 

Bucky recognized your look: shame.

He didn’t want to ask- rather, he did want to ask. But didn’t know if he should. Something about the way you walked away, the way you mumbled under your breath. It almost seemed like you tried to find privacy without leaving the room. Like leaning against the couch while your shoulders curled in on you somehow protected you. 

“Are you sure? I only ask because you, um, you make a lot of those little jokes and innuendos and I… I wanna make sure you’re not trying to drop me a hint.” Bucky took a cautious step toward you. And then another. Until his feet rested only millimeters from yours. 

You rolled your eyes- but not at him. “I’m fine- sorry, babe. This has nothing to do with you. It’s just…” you sighed. A fire raged beneath your words that burned only you. “It’s this thing I do. This really annoying thing. Well, annoying to me”. You laughed a dark, broken laugh. Something was off.

Bucky decided not to poke or pry. He simply took the spot next to you want waited. If you wanted to elaborate, he’d listen. And if you didn’t, he’d be there just in case. But something sinister floated around in your mind. He could see it rippling. And he wanted to be there for you when it breached the surface.

“All of this sexual humor? All of the nudes I send and my near constant attempts to jump your bones? That’s what you’re referring to, right?” 

He nodded.  

Another eye roll. You couldn’t believe it was happening again. Well, you could believe it- you just wished it wasn’t true. How many times had you been through this? How many years did you work on trying to eliminate your stupid habit? You didn’t care if your therapist called it a “coping mechanism”- it made you cringe, and you hated yourself for doing it.

“It’s a stupid holdover from my ex- well, my most of my exes.”

Bucky wasn’t quite following. He stared at you with an unsure look and about a million questions rattling around in his head. But he didn’t know what to ask first. You were clearly upset, clearly troubled by whatever happened in those past relationships with shitty men who didn’t deserve you. And he didn’t want to upset you further. 

Bucky was in the dark. He saw no issue, had no problem with your suggestive sense of humor. And he didn’t quite understand why you’d be so upset about whatever little habit you carried with you- especially when work was slowly devouring your soul. He saw the evidence of your hellish schedule written all over your face. He saw the way you had to practically drag your body out of bed each morning, the way you pounded coffees and energy drinks just to get through the day. Why was this the moment in which your insecurity caught up with you?

“I’m sorry, doll. I think I’m confused,” he said. “I’m not really sure what’s going on.”

“I’ve never dated anyone who made me feel loved,” you blurted out. “Except for you.”

Bucky still wasn’t sure where this was going, but he knew he hated your exes.

“No one I dated in the past cared for me or prioritized me. None of them ever made me feel secure- I was never quite sure where I stood, you know? Their affections were always so hit or miss. Like, they’d give me a ton of love and attention for a few days, and then spend weeks treating me like I didn’t matter.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say or how to fix whatever damage your past relationships did to you. But he knew you were tired- mentally and physically. And so he did the only thing he could think of- he picked you up and set you down on the cozy couch cushions. He ordered dinner. He got you a tea. And he let you talk.

“I always felt unsure, you know? I didn’t know how any of these guys actually felt about me. Or if they even felt anything for me at all. One guy actually kept me a secret from everyone in his life- he wouldn’t even talk to me in public…”

A concoction of heartbreak and rage flooded Bucky’s consciousness. How could anyone treat you that way?

“Anyway, there was one thing I knew they’d respond positively to- one thing they wouldn’t ignore.” You dropped your gaze down to your mug, too embarrassed to look Bucky in the eye. “When I felt them slipping or noticed their affection for me dwindling, I knew I could use sex to renew their interest in me.” 

The living room sat silent. Bucky stared at you, and you stared at your tea. You watched the tendrils of steam wafting off the surface and into the air as though it were your job. If you didn’t look at Bucky, if you kept your focus elsewhere, maybe he wouldn’t notice your damage. 

Part of you was perfectly fine stopping the story there. It would preserve what little dignity you had left, what fraction of respect Bucky still held for you. But the other part needed you to spill your guts. You were so depleted. So tired of putting on a façade. 

“I mean, the first few boyfriends I had actually admitted to me after we broke up that they only wanted me for sex- that they only got into a relationship with me so they could be the only one fucking me.” Your eyes remained downcast. “I’ve just been with so many people who made me feel like I had to earn their affection. And so, over the years, I just- I don’t know…”

You shared the silence for a moment before Bucky offered his help, “You got used to it?”

You nodded. “I accepted that I’m just a- that they saw me as an object. That my feelings and  needs don’t matter. And I know it’s pathetic that I stayed with any of those guys for longer than five minutes. But I’m so-” Your tear-filled eyes finally met Bucky’s. “I’m so desperate to be loved. Or, I was. And now, I have you. And I know you love me- you show me everyday just how much you care about me. But I’ve never been treated like this before… it’s unfamiliar territory, I guess. All I know is secret parking lot hook-ups and feeling like I have to give someone my body as payment for love.”

Being this vulnerable, this raw and exposed, made your hands shake. Of course, you trusted Bucky with your past and with your heart. But showing him your shame and imperfections made you cringe. You feared you were supplying him with ammo, with reasons to treat you poorly. To leave. 

But he didn’t see you any different- he simply wished he’d found you sooner. Wished he could’ve saved you some heartbreak. He extended a hand and welcomed you into his arms. He held you close. And he listened without judgement. 

“I don’t know how to handle consistent love. And I feel like… I’m afraid the other shoe is gonna drop any minute. Like a switch is gonna flip and you’ll pull away from me without warning. And I’ll have to win you over again.” 

Bucky’s grip around you intensified. As though, if he wrapped his arms around you tight enough, he could transfer his love via osmosis. 

 “So I try to keep your interest with sex,” you said, you’re voice falling. “I try to make you want me.”

“Even when you’re exhausted…”

You nodded.

Knowing that the two of you’d had sex when you weren’t completely and totally into it made him nauseous. He knew what it felt like for others to have control of his body. He knew how uncomfortable and dehumanized it made him feel. And he hated that, more likely than not, you’d felt that way with him. Even if it only happened once, it was too many times.

Bucky’s silence made you nervous. He was probably mad- or hurt- by what you’d said. And you instantly regretted all of it. “Don’t get me wrong- the sex we have is perfect. It’s not like anything I’ve ever had and I pretty much wanna get in your pants the second I see you.” The familiar light returned to your eyes for just a moment, but the glimmer faded just as quickly as it appeared. “But sometimes I find myself forcing my own hand- even when I can barely stay awake- because I still feel like I have to fight for the love of the man I’m with.”

Bucky wanted to kill every man who’d ever hurt you, every man who’d ever made you doubt your value. “I want you, doll. Always. You don’t have to fight for anything with me,” he took the mug from your hands and placed it on the coffee table before turning you around and taking your face in his hands. “And, yeah, the sex is great. But I’m just happy to be near you. To spend time with you. This-” he said, sweeping his thumbs over your cheeks, “this is all I want. To be close to you. To take care of you.”

You let your eyes fall closed for a moment as the words sunk in. You took his hands in yours and grounded yourself in his touch. After all this time, you finally got what you wanted. The reassurance, the validation. And you knew he was telling the truth. But the nagging in your chest forbade you from believing him. You had half a mind to grind your hips against his and attach your lips to his neck. But before you could act on your impulse, Bucky spoke.

“You’ve been dealing with this for a long time. I don’t expect you to just stop out of nowhere. It’s a coping mechanism- a way of protecting yourself.”

It’s like he read your mind.

“But I want you to put yourself first, doll. Okay? When you’re tired, when you have a headache, when you don’t feel like having sex- for whatever reason- it’s okay. It’s more than okay. I don’t ever want you doing something you don’t want to do. You have me, okay? I’m yours.” 

You shook your head- sure, that was easy for him to say now. “But you’re used to us having a lot of sex. You’re used to me being ready and willing twenty four-seven. What if you-”

“Baby… hey,” he once again cupped your face. It stopped your spiral, your anxious ramblings. Wild ‘what ifs’ invaded your brain and trampled everything Bucky said, every assurance he gave. But he was determined to make you understand. “My feelings for you are never going to dwindle or falter. Ever. I swear on my life that I’ll always want you. I’ll love you until I die- and even after that. We didn’t meet and immediately jump into bed together. We spent months just enjoying each other’s company. And even then, when I wasn’t even sure if anything was gonna happen between us, I just wanted to spend time with you.”

He sensed uncertainty in your eyes, “doll, if we never had sex again, I’d still be here. I’d still want you.”

Finally, after a night of doom and gloom, he got you to laugh. 

“Yeah, sure, Buck-”

“I’m serious!” he said, crossing his arms over his chest in defiance. “Obviously, I don’t think either one of us wants to forego sex completely…”

You gave him a vehement shake of your head. He laughed at your dramatics.

“But if, for whatever reason, we put a full embargo on sex- I’d still be here. I promise. Because I love you, and all that matters to me is your happiness. Okay?”

A knock at the door startled both of you. It pulled you out of the world of past-trauma and heartbreak and threw you into the present. Shit- you were hungry. Starving. And your head pounded from exhaustion and dehydration. 

“That’s the food!” Bucky lifted you from his lap before replacing you on the couch and running for the door. He paid the delivery driver and returned to you with a bag so full you feared the bottom might split. “I got everything: the pasta and garlic bread you like, a chicken parmesan, a lasagna, and two slices of their dark chocolate cake.”

You stared at him with wide eyes and a growling stomach. “We feeding an army?”

“Well, no. But I know you probably haven’t eaten since breakfast…”

You nodded, and Bucky threw his head back with a groan. “Doll! You promised me you’d make sure to break during the day for lunch, and- you know, that’s a conversation for another time. Let’s get you fed and into bed. Okay?”

You watched Bucky unpack the food and spread the dishes out across the coffee table. He got plates, silverware, and drinks before putting on your favorite episode of New Girl. He took care of you. He was the person your family always promised you’d find. The person your friends told you to wait for. The person you swore didn’t exist. But he was real, and he was yours. And he loved you more than you ever thought possible.

————————

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[absurdthirst]

Christmas For Hire {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 22k

Warnings: Drug usage, strip clubs (we respect sex workers in this house), alcohol, lewd comments, oral sex (female receiving), protected sex, breeding kink (just talk), lactation kink (just talk), fantasy, Dieter being needy, angst, miscommunication

Comments: Alone and lonely for the holidays, Dieter finds himself in your place of work. Drunk and high, he offers you the deal of lifetime, $20k to pretend to be his girlfriend and give him a Christmas to remember. It might just be the best thing he's ever done.

A/N: Based off this GIF right here from Closer (2004)

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

The Christmas lights and ornaments that the owners strung up along the stage and the VIP booths seem to clash with the darkness that seems to shroud most clubs. Allowing the light from the stage to be the focus, and give the patrons some sense of privacy as they watch the lewd displays of skin as dancers twirl on the poles and create dance routines around surprisingly peppy Christmas music. Serving tray filled, you adjust your Santa hat and wink at the burly bartender before you set off to deliver the drinks. 

Working as a cocktail waitress at a strip club was good money, you can’t deny that. Although some of the patrons never seem to understand that you aren’t a dancer. That no matter how many bills they stuff in your costumes, you will not grind on their laps or take them back into the Champagne Room. You just serve the champagne. “Double vodka with peach schnapps and soda.” You drop a drink off with a smile before moving on to deposit three beers and two tequila shots off to a group of military men who are watching Kandy before making your way back to the last booth in your section. The high roller booth. “Bottle of Dom and one glass.” You check the order even though you know it by heart. “And a Four Horsemen eggnog.” You give the man at the table a smile as you try not to fangirl over the fact that you are serving Dieter Bravo.

You walk off and Dieter can’t help but admire your ass. He smirks, glancing back at Kandy Kane dressed in a red and white outfit, her tits on display, but she’s not his type. Dieter crosses his arms, glancing around the room at the creepy men leering and he realizes he isn’t any better than them, spending the day before Christmas Eve loitering in a strip club. His family is gone; either dead or doesn’t speak to him. His friends only want him when he has drugs or money and he doesn’t want to indulge their bullshit so here he is, alone and watching titties while sipping a fucking eggnog. When you come back, he smiles in thanks. “Can you come sit with me?” He asks.

You see the glassy edge to his eyes, his pupils look like some kind of anime character, nearly blown out to where you can’t tell he has brown eyes. He’s high off his ass, something you have plenty of experience with in your job. Dancers or customers, all looking to forget for a while and even if you don’t do it yourself, you try not to judge. “Sure.” It would be nice to take a minute off your heels and take a small break. You had just made the rounds so you can spare a moment. You flop down into the booth and hum. “What brings you out tonight?” You ask, not mentioning you know who he is.

Dieter shrugs, “I haven’t got any Christmas plans so here I am. Looking at titties and drinking champagne.” He chuckles humorlessly. He knows his plans are pathetic but it’s all he has unless he decides to drink himself stupid through the holiday. “Sorry. You don’t want to listen to my shit.” He reaches for the money he has bundled up and hands you a hundred bucks. “Merry Christmas.”

You bite your lip before you fold the bill up and tuck it into your pocket. “Thank you.” Sliding towards the edge of the booth, you send him a searching look. “Can I get you some food? The burgers are horrible but the fries and hot wings are good.”

Dieter shakes his head, “no thanks. I am vegan right now….according to my agent.” Dieter winks and hands you another hundred dollars. “Get me some chicken wings, sweetheart. No one needs to know.” He picks up the glass of champagne, looking forward to some wings.

“Absolutely.” You grin and send him a conspiratorial wink of your own before you turn around to hurry towards the kitchen. You know that you shouldn’t flirt, it always turns out badly here, but it’s Dieter Bravo. The worst you think could happen is that he turns out to be an asshole and an asshole wouldn’t just give you a quarter of your rent in ten minutes.

Dieter watches you walk off, hips swaying and for a moment he wonders what you’d be like dancing on the stage. When you return with his plate, he groans at the sight of the wings. He hadn’t been able to eat meat due to the press being on his ass and he has missed it. “So what are you doing for Christmas Day?” Dieter asks you, curious to hear your plans and long for his own.

You shrug slightly watching him pick up a wing and smell it. He groans and his eyes flutter before he takes a bite and it’s kind of fascinating to see how eager he is for a chicken wing. “The usual.” You glance around to make sure the boss isn’t signaling or no one else needs anything. As much as you feel Dieter needs entertainment, you do have to serve others. “Probably lay around in my pajamas watching Christmas movies on Hallmark and baking some cookies.” Just a small batch, but nothing sounded better. Maybe sleeping in a little.

"No family?" Dieter asks with intrigue. You look like the kind of girl who has a boyfriend at home, parents, a dog. The whole shebang. You shake your head, "they live across the country and I can't afford to go home this year." You admit and Dieter frowns, hating to hear that. "I'm sorry. I'm alone too. My Christmas Day usually consists of too much booze and watching shit TV." He snorts, sipping the champagne after setting a bony chicken wing down.

You tilt your head, confused as to why someone famous like Dieter would spend the holidays alone. “Why don’t you have some kind of party? Hang out with friends?” You ask, not knowing much about Hollywood and actors. “Surely you don’t have to be alone if you don’t want to be. You’re- you know, Dieter Bravo.”

Dieter scoffs, “because I’m sick of the insincerity. The lack of authenticity around the holidays is disgusting. I want - I want something real. I want to bake cookies and watch shitty movies. I want to just be with someone and it be real.” He admits, sighs as he wipes his hands and turns to look at you. “God, you’re fucking gorgeous.” He groans, staring at you. You are prettier than the dancers, sexier for sure and he is still high when he blurts out “what does your cunt taste like?”

You don’t let things that come out of men’s mouths shock you anymore. If you did, you would be walking around with the surprised Picakchu face all the time, so you just lean in and give him a faint smile. “Heaven.” You promise silkily, watching his eyes widen when more as they flick down to your covered crotch. Now comes the moment where Dieter Bravo offers you more of those hundred dollar bills to find out and he goes from decent to asshole in your book. Which will be sad because you loved Hunger Strike. 

Dieter swallows, knowing that you are what he has been looking for. “Come stay with me.” He demands and you shake your head. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t sleep with-” 

Dieter waves his hands, “no. I don’t want sex.” He shocks even himself with that statement, “I want to spend Christmas with you. I want to bake cookies. I want to watch movies. I want to decorate a tree. All the holiday shit. You come to my house. I want…I want you to pretend to be my spouse. No sex.” He promises, “just - I want to be normal. I want - I want to spend Christmas with you and I’ll pay you.”

It’s probably the most bizarre request you’ve ever had and that’s saying something considering one guy wanted to do a shot of Jack out of your asshole. You frown, hating that your immediate response is to ask how much but a girl has to pay her bills. “This isn’t some trick to get me to your house and pull some Armie Hammer shit, is it?” You ask suspiciously.

Dieter shakes his head, “fuck no. I like being tied up though.” He winks and you roll your eyes. “Seriously though, I don’t want sex. I just want company. It’s like…it’s like Pretty Woman. I just want a companion over the holidays and I like you. I’ll pay you…twenty thousand for two days. Until the day after Christmas.”

“Twe-twenty- thou-thousand?” You gasp out, eyes nearly popping out of your head as you try to imagine having that much money. “You want to pay me twenty thousand dollars to pretend to be your wife and do Christmas shit with you for two days? No sex? No funny stuff? I sleep alone?”

“You will have your own room. I just - I know it’s weird but I want you to pretend we are married and do traditional Christmas stuff with me. I, um, I have never really experienced it since my parents got divorced before I was three so I want to experience a real family Christmas. Just do the things most families do together.”

It’s crazy to consider it, you know it. Every bit of advice you give to dancers runs through your head; ‘don’t go home with that man’, ‘if it’s too good to be true, it is’. Still….twenty thousand dollars to bake cookies and watch movies sounds amazing. “Half upfront.” You demand, arching a brow in challenge.

Dieter grins, pleased you’ve agreed. “Deal.” He holds his hand out and you shake it, making him giggle with excitement. “I’ll have a car come pick you up in the morning. I’ll have my assistant get us everything we need for the holiday and I will have my assistant bring you the check for ten thousand in the morning. Unless you want me to transfer it now?” Dieter grabs the phone he hates carrying around.

“No, uh, in the morning is fine.” You bite your lip. “No, wait-  yeah, a transfer would be okay.” You don’t trust checks because he could stop payment or it be bad. You don’t think he would scam you, but twenty thousand is so much money to you.

Dieter nods, “you have your phone? We can do it now.” He is desperate to have a proper Christmas, one like the stupid movies he watches and cries at when he’s alone. He watches you grab your phone from your apron and he smiles when you pull up your banking info. “Type it in sweetheart.” He hands You his phone for you to copy the information. For some reason, he trusts you. He’s in a strip club two days before Christmas but he just trusts you implicitly.

Dieter presses the transfer button, sending ten thousand to your account. It’s worth it. Every penny will be worth it if he can experience a picturesque Christmas. “Give me your address and my assistant will come and pick you up tomorrow.” He says, handing you back his phone so you can put your number in it.

Your eyes widen when you check your own phone and see an extra ten thousand in your account. “Uh, sure.” You bite your lip and open up your contact card to give him your full name, phone number and address. “Just, uh, if you change your mind about this, let me know and I’ll transfer the money back.” You promise, not believing that it would be right to keep it if he woke up tomorrow and realized he had made a mistake.

Dieter shakes his head, “I won’t.” He pulls another couple of hundred dollar bills and hands one to you, “for the wings. See you tomorrow, wifey, for our Hallmark Christmas.” He winks and stands, walking over to the stage to toss the other bill to Kandy Kane before he sways slightly as he walks out of the club, still high as a kite but he’s already dialing his assistant to get everything ready for you.

****

Normally you sleep until noon in the afternoon when you work because of the hours - not closing until three or four and then getting home. This morning, however, you were wide awake at 9, showering and trying to decide what to pack for two days at Dieter’s house. Where does he live? You don’t have a clue, but it has to be better than the cramped apartment you share with your roommate in a rundown area. It could be worse, but it could also be a lot better but it’s what you can afford while you work your ass off to better yourself. Deciding to have a few things to change into, you put on leggings and your most festive Christmas sweaters. Wondering if this is really happening as you nervously watch the clock.

Dieter is brushing his hair, almost treating this like a role as he styles his usually messy hair into a gelled back comb. His sweater is expensive and rarely worn except for press events but it helps him get into character and he smiles, excited to spend Christmas with someone. He had a tree delivered this morning and his assistant laid out the decorations for you and him to decorate the tree. There’s ingredients for dinners and hot chocolate and cookies. The kitchen is almost overflowing and Nat King Cole’s smooth voice is already flowing through the house.

A driver…a fucking driver comes to pick you up from your apartment. Dressed in a suit and driving the cleanest SUV you’ve ever seen in your life. On the backseat, there is a package for you, presumably from his assistant and you open it up to find an NDA ready to be signed and a list of activities and foods that they have prepared. “Jesus, money really does buy what you want.” You mutter as you sign the papers and stuff them back inside. You don’t care about not being able to talk about this with anyone, who would believe you? You look out the window and feel like a tourist as the driver takes you to the Sherman Oaks area.

Dieter struggles to contain himself when he gets the text that you are on your way. His assistant had you send a photo of the NDA and so Dieter is confident that he can make this an amazing time...you are going to give him what he wants: a proper holiday. He paces, shoving his hands in his pants as he waits for you to arrive at his home.

You are nervous when you stop in front of a gorgeous house. It’s large, a little bit more traditional than you were expecting, but it screams that this person has money. Lord knows you would never live somewhere like this. You wait until the driver opens the door and slide out, shouldering your purse and biting your lip as you try to gather your nerves. He just wants a Christmas experience and you had decided to shove a small present and some wrapping paper in your bag, something ridiculous, but what do you buy a movie star who wants you to act like his wife for Christmas? “Here we go.” You mutter to yourself, the driver getting your bag as you walk up the path to the front door.

When the doorbell rings, Dieter brushes his hair back and rushes to open the door. Grinning when he sees you, he steps ahead to let you in. "Come in. Come in." He gestures with his hands too, excitement making him like an over eager puppy. He has the music playing and he is ready to get the holiday season started.

You don’t exactly know what you were expecting, but you weren’t expecting Dieter to look so….put together. He looks like he’s attending a Christmas movie premier, and his eyes are bright and excited. “Hi.” You step into the house and look around, not surprised that it’s clean since you’re sure he has a maid or housekeeper or something. “Hope you weren’t waiting too long.” You offer.

Dieter shakes his head, admiring you. You look just as beautiful as you did last night except you're wearing leggings and a Christmas sweater so it's his fucking dream come true. He smiles, watching you for a moment. "Not at all. Come in. I'll show you to your room." He says, reaching out to take your bags from the driver before the driver shuts the door and leaves you alone with the actor.

“This house is gorgeous.” You gush, looking around at the obvious designer decor. It looks very un-lived in, but maybe he liked it that way. “It’s going to look amazing after we decorate it for Christmas.”

Dieter grins, "absolutely! I have so much I want to do. I want to have eggnog and make hot chocolate. I want to bake sugar cookies and decorate them and I want to decorate the tree and watch movies and - shit. We need to get started." He rushes out, carrying your bags and he sets your bags down in the beautiful guest room.

You can’t help but laugh at the enthusiasm, it is a far cry from most men at the holidays. You hum, delighted at the bedroom and you know you won’t have any problem staying here for two days. “So, how about we turn on a Christmas movie while we get started on the cookies and we can decorate the tree while they are baking?” You suggest. “While drinking hot chocolate. We’ll save the eggnog for when we are snuggled in watching movies tonight.” You send him a small wink. “Boozy eggnog is my favorite.”

Dieter groans at the thought. God, this was his best idea ever. “I love that. Let’s do it!” He’s practically bouncing as he watches you open your bag. “Come on baby. We haven’t got all day. Let’s get started!” He whines a little, wanting you to hurry up so the festivities can begin.

His giddiness is almost infectious and you put down your toiletry case. “Okay.” You kick off your shoes and grin at him. “Let’s go make sure we’ve got everything we need.”

Dieter practically giggles as he takes your hand and guides you through the house to the kitchen, proudly displaying everything his assistant had purchased for your Christmas spectacular. “Sugar cookies.” Dieter says as he walks over to the section labeled “cookie making.” His assistant laid everything out for what he declared he wanted to do.

“Wow.” You whistle under your breath and look over all the ingredients happily. “Do you want to have some hot chocolate while we mix up cookie dough or do you want to save that for decorating the tree?” The open concept kitchen and living area was perfect for seeing the large 85 inch TV and the 12 foot Christmas tree from the island.

Dieter shakes his head, "let's have it later." He reaches out to touch your arm, "thank you for coming here sweetheart. I- I haven't ever experienced a proper Christmas. My parents...they got divorced when I was a kid but they - they were always arguing during the holidays." He rolls his eyes and walks over to the oven, biting his lip. "Um, do you know how this works?"

It’s sad that he’s not had a proper Christmas, that the people who had made him couldn’t put aside their differences to give their child good memories. “I do.” You are intrigued by the idea that he doesn't know how to use his own stove. “I typed up my favorite recipes on my phone.” You announce, swiping it open and grinning. “We need to preheat the oven to 375.”

Dieter bites his lip, “could you- I don’t know how to use this. I don’t really, um, I don’t really cook. Ever.” He admits with flushed cheeks, feeling a little useless. He should know this basic shit but his parents never taught him.

“No worries!” You wave away his embarrassment as if it’s nothing. “One apartment I lived in only had two burners that worked and the oven only heated up to a certain temp.” You tell him as you walk over and examine the knobs. “Every one of them is different.” You press the button and turn the temperature knob, smirking when the LED screen for the oven lights up. “Perfect!”

Dieter smiles, watching you, and he is glad you are here. He made a good choice with you. You’re patient and kind already. Perfect for Christmas. He watches you set the oven and he bites his lip, wondering what to do next. “I haven’t made cookies either.” He confesses feeling so stupid.

“Best part about cookies is eating the dough.” You promise him before grabbing the very Christmasy aprons his assistant has bought. “Okay, cover that very sexy sweater so we don’t get flour on it and we are going to make the perfect sugar cookies for tonight!” The Christmas music is playing through the subtle spears in the house and you just feel good right now. Wanting to make this special for him.

He can’t help but smirk at you, “you think this sweater is sexy?” You playfully roll your eyes, making him chuckle, and he winks at you while he ties the apron around his waist. You quickly get to work, showing him what to measure for the ingredients and soon enough, he’s using the cookie cutter for the dough. “I’m doing it.” He says more to himself, a wide grin on his face as he admires the Christmas tree shaped cookie.

“Here, try some.” You pinch a small ball of dough in your fingers and offer it to him. You had expected him to take from you with his hand, but Dieter leans down and eats the cookie dough from your fingers, his tongue brushing over your skin and making you giggle slightly.

He groans as the sweetness hits his tongue and he swallows the bite. “Shit that’s good stuff. Almost like crack…and I should know.” He teases, winking at you and he continues cutting out the cookies. “So…are you from L.A?” He asks, wanting to know more about you.

You want to give him a few details, but you also want to keep this magical for him. Looking over his shoulder, you supervise his cookie cutting and hum. “Oh you know, same old story as everyone else. The glamor of L.A. was exciting and then I realized it’s not that great.” You shrug slightly, moving over to a saucepan to start measuring out ingredients for some hot chocolate to cook while the cookies are baking. “But my favorite story is how we met.” You tell him, sending him back a playful wink when he looks at you confused. “Who knew my runaway dog from my dog walking job would lead to being married to Dieter Bravo.”

Dieter grins when he picks up your storyline, and he walks over to you, placing his floured hands on your hips. “Is this okay?” He asks and you nod. “I thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. Flustered with those dogs but still so gorgeous.” He smiles at you.

“Please.” You roll your eyes and stir the simmering chocolate on the stove. “I was a mess and the hottest guy who I’ve ever seen catches the little terror and is calmly feeding him the beef jerky he was eating.”

Dieter smirks, “beef jerky? I’m supposed to be vegan. Polls well among my fans. Weed and vegetables. No jerky.” He teases, internally puffing his chest at you calling him the hottest guy you’ve ever seen but he knows you are just playing along. “Then we went for coffee and we just hit it off. Who knew you’d have been my future wife?”

“Well since you are vegan, I guess I better change my plans from the beef wellington I was planning to make for Christmas dinner.” You tease, watching his eyes widen slightly. “Maybe some mushroom steaks instead? Hubby?” You wink again, enjoying the sense of teasing and playfulness, something you think he doesn’t do with a lot of people. 

Dieter shakes his head, eyes horrified. “Absolutely not. You have to make it. No one will know.” He pleads, voice taking on a whining quality as his grip on your hips tightens slightly. “Please baby. Can you please make beef wellington?”

You smirk and lean back against him. “Of course, honey.” You purr. “We are going to have a perfect Christmas dinner followed up by way too many cookies for dessert.” The timer you set goes off and you hum. “First batch needs to come out to cool before we decorate them.”

Dieter grins with excitement, letting go of you so you can take the cookies out of the oven. He leans over, admiring his handiwork and he beams, excited that he actually makes something edible. He makes some more cookies with the cutters, glancing at you constantly, and he is reminded once more of what a good idea this was of his. To have you in his home, indulging in his fantasy of a perfect Christmas.

Once more cookies are in the oven and the hot chocolate is poured up into large mugs, you motion towards the large Christmas tree that is standing bare next to a gorgeous picture window that spans from floor to ceiling and gives immaculate views of the city. “Do you want to start putting the lights and ornaments on the tree?” You ask, noticing that everything looks brand new, like it was just purchased. 

“Yeah.” Dieter shuffles slightly, embarrassed. “My assistant went and got all this today, I didn’t have any decorations.” He admits. 

“That���s okay.” You don’t want to judge him, not when he’s so happy about all of this. “They look like they will be gorgeous and you can always pick out a few more to add every year. You know, make it a tradition.”

Dieter is buzzing as you start to put lights around the tree, helping you and when you’re on the ladder to finish the top part, he can’t help but admire your ass. You are gorgeous, he can’t help noticing that, but the way you are making him feel is engineered by the holiday spirit. It’s not real, even if he’s desperately pretending it is.

“All that is left is the star.” You announce, looking back down at him and choosing to ignore the way that he was staring at your ass. “Honey, you would do the honors and put it on?” You ask, holding it out to him as you climb back down. “I think it should be you to do it.”

Dieter flusters but agrees, smiling at you as he replaces you on the ladder and proudly places the star on top of the tree. Pride of place and looking so beautiful. The tree looks like something from a fairy tale and Dieter cannot be happier. He steps off of the ladder and wraps his arm around your waist, “thank you.” He leans in to kiss your cheek before he looks back at the tree to admire it.

“It looks amazing.” You grab your phone and take a quick selfie with Dieter in front of the tree. It won’t be something you show to anyone but you deserve a memento of your hard work and beautiful decorating together. “The cookies should be ready to decorate if you want to do that.” You offer, knowing he wants to pack as much Christmas spirit as he can into the two days.

Dieter nods, so grateful that you are going along with this like you actually are his wife. He smiles, “that sounds amazing baby.” He doesn’t even think about not calling you baby but he likes the way it sounds when he talks to you. He smiles, playfully rubbing your back as he guides you into the kitchen and admires the Christmas tree from its place across the room.

The last batch of cookies come out of the oven to cook while you arrange all the decorative frostings and sprinkles. “So I have a friend who makes those really fancy cookies, and she made ones that look like gray sweatpants, complete with a package impression.” You give a dirty little laugh as you outline the star cookie you’re decorating in red frosting. “Love those damn cookies.”

Dieter raises his eyebrow, surprised at you but he equally loves that you’re a little dirty. He smirks, watching you, and he snorts when you wink at him. “They taste good?” He asks, picking up the white icing and he growls in frustration when he fucks it up immediately.

“Honey, don’t worry.” You reach over and pick up a toothpick to smooth out the mistake. “See? Anything you don’t like, over it in sprinkles or the colored sugar. Imperfect cookies are the best tasting ones.”

Dieter hates that it isn’t perfect but he lets it go, swallowing harshly as he starts to put sprinkles on the cookie. You calling him honey has his stomach twisting and he bites his lip, trying to concentrate on the next cookie he is decorating.

“This is a lot of fun.” You admit, giving him a smile as the decorated cookies pile up. “I love making cookies. Always dreamed of being like those movies where you exchange cookies with your neighbors every holiday.”

Dieter grins, “I wish it was like that but L.A isn’t exactly a picturesque holiday scene. It’s too hot, and palm trees don’t really scream Christmas. Plus…my neighbors are assholes.” He snorts, shaking his head as you both finish up the last of the cookies. He’s gotten better at decorating.

You wonder how much the neighbors are really assholes and how much of it is just being done with Dieter’s antics, imagining him to be a handful as a neighbor. Instead of asking, you just send him a warm grin. “Well that just means more cookies for us.”

Dieter grins, “I like the way you think, baby.” He finishes up the last cookie with flare, sprinkling the edible glitter over it with a flourish. “They look delicious. Can we - do you want to watch a movie and have a few cookies?” He asks, not even thinking about the mess in the kitchen.

“We have to.” You whirl around the open the fridge and pull out some milk. “Why don’t we turn on the Hallmark channel? They always have great, cheerful, romantic movies. Or we can find some classics?”

Dieter bites his lip, “my favorite movie is It’s a Wonderful Life. Can we watch that?” He asks, knowing it’s a classic but it’s not exactly cheery like Elf. That’s probably why he likes it. A bit of misery mixed with the joy makes it more relatable.

You immediately melt, giving a sappy sigh. “I love It’s a Wonderful Life.” You admit breathlessly. “For me, it’s a must watch every single year.” You start poking around in his cabinets to look for glasses and luck upon them when you open the first door. “Why don’t you go turn it on and I’ll bring in the milk?”

He beams, so excited that you want to watch the movie he so dearly loves and has watched since he was a kid. He kisses your cheek before he rushes into the living room, grabbing the remote to turn on his ridiculously big TV. He works fast to find the movie in his library and puts it on, the music starting just as you sit down with the tray of cookies and milk.

“I love Jimmy Stewart movies.” You reach over to hand Dieter a tall glass of milk. “I remember watching Mr. Smith Goes to Washington in school when I was younger and it made me want to make movies back then.” You chuckle at your younger wide eyed dreams and lean back against his expensive couch with one of the obviously new Christmas blankets to pull over your lap. “What made you want to act, honey?”

Dieter bites his lip, “I, uh, I didn’t really want to be an actor. My mom…she decided to take me for a kids casting call for a commercial when I was four and I’ve been in the business ever since. Got cast in a movie when I was ten and I’ve had roles ever since. During the lockdown, I was crawling out of my skin so I took Cliff Beasts 6 to get out of my house. Acting is all I’ve ever known.”

You feel horrible for him, wondering if he would have chosen something else if he had the opportunity to. “Well, you’re an amazing actor.” You promise him, reaching over and laying your hand on his leg. “Hunger Strike is great, but my favorite one was the little Indy movie you did a couple of years ago, Horizon? It just- I loved it. You should have won another Oscar.”

Dieter grins, reaching for your hand. “I loved that movie so much. As soon as I read the script, I knew I had to be in it. My agent didn’t think it was high profile enough but I didn’t care. It was a passion project.” He confesses, blushing a little since you have watched his movies.

“You should do more of them.” You insist, squeezing his hand. “Doesn’t matter if they are high profile or not, your fans will love it and who knows? You can shine a spotlight on some small, just getting started directors, give them a boost up.”

Dieter nods, “I have a few scripts that I’ve been sent that I need to read from new writers and new directors. Do you, uh, do you have a dream? Other than working at the club?” He asks, keeping his hand in yours.

“Honestly?” You give a small shrug. “I would love to write.” You admit, almost bashfully. You’ve never told many people about it and you hope he’s not the type to think it’s stupid. “Books.”

Dieter’s eyes widen, “you write? What do you write about? Do you have any excerpts? I fucking love reading. Wish I had more time for it honestly. Tell me more.” He demands, eyes wide and eager.

The movie plays in the background but neither one of you is paying attention. You squirm slightly and give a small, embarrassed shrug. “I’m sure that it’s not something you want to read.” You say breezily, sure that he will roll his eyes. “I write- I like writing romance, but like- science fiction romance?”

Dieter snorts and you instantly deflate but he shakes his head. “Baby girl, I read fucking Twilight. I love romance. I love sci-fi. Tell me what your idea is.”

It makes you feel a little better but you still chew on your lip. “I want to write a series where the main character is a hunter, her family was destroyed by vampires when she was little and so it’s her mission to kill them. She gets bitten by a werewolf along the way.” You grin. “I also want to add the element of soulmates so it ends up that the latest vampire she is chasing would have been hers as a human and he hates werewolves.”

Dieter contemplates your idea for a few moments, making you squirm, until he grins. “That sounds fucking incredible!” He says in awe of your imagination. “Have you started writing this?”

“A little.” You huff. “It's hard to write with the schedule I work, or I’m just emotionally worn out by the way I’m constantly fending off sleazeballs at the club.” You snort. “They don’t seem to understand that I serve drinks, not handjobs.”

Shaking his head, Dieter squeezes your hand. “Assholes. Respect and consent are fucking important and necessary. If I go to a club, I always make sure I ask if I can touch. Not that I- I don’t want a happy ending.” He flusters, “I can get laid in a heartbeat without paying but I- I want something that actually means something.”

“Of course you can.” You don’t doubt that. He’s Dieter Bravo. “You’re hot, first and foremost, but you’re also famous.” Being hot is more important to you, it doesn’t matter that he’s famous, or rich.

Dieter shakes his head, "see? I don't want someone to want me simply because I'm Dieter Bravo. I want someone to want me because they want me. Who I truly am. The real Dieter but...I don't even know if I know who I truly am anymore." He confesses, biting his lip.

You snort, shaking your head. “I wasn’t saying that being famous is the most important part. You’re genuinely hot.” You huff at him. “You don’t realize that? I’m sure that someone who isn’t vapid would soak up the real you. Come on, you obviously want love and happiness. Maybe you would even do less drugs.”

Dieter chuckles, “I wish. It’s a fucking expensive addiction to have. Do you - are you - do you take any drugs?” He swears he can’t speak around you. You get him tongue tied because you’re so goddamn beautiful, especially sitting there wearing the Christmas sweater and that sparkle in your eye. He won’t push for more, that’s not what this is about and he didn’t pay money for sex, he wants the fantasy of Christmas he’s always longed for.

“No, I’ve been lucky. Been offered them plenty of times but beyond smoking some weed every now and again, I don’t do anything.” You know Dieter has, you watched him OD on camera during the behind the scenes thing for Cliff Beasts. “Most I do is drink.”

Dieter nods, “I can respect that. Drugs…it numbs the loneliness. I guess I thought by now I’d have a wife and my own family to look after, enjoy the holidays with. I haven’t been so lucky.” He sighs, keeping your hand in his. “Anyway, let’s rewind the movie and watch it.” He says, reaching for the remote to deflect off of him.

You let the conversation die, not wanting him to be mired in misery. Your job here is to make him feel like he’s having a proper Christmas. “Let’s turn on your fireplace.” You suggest, knowing that it’s not cold enough, but it would be a pretty aesthetic. “Turn off the lights and have the tree lit up. I know it’s still light outside but it’s the atmosphere that makes it, right?”

Dieter nods, almost making himself dizzy and he grabs the remote for the fireplace. “It’s fake.” He chuckles, making you snort, and he turns the fireplace on while you turn on the Christmas tree. It’s picture perfect and when you settle on the sofa, he restarts the movie. He smiles at you and shifts to lay down, resting his head in your lap.

You melt a little at how desperate Dieter is for affection. Your fingers tangle into his hair and you play with it while you watch the movie. You hum as Jimmy’s character talks about Mary wanting the moon and how he will get it for her. It’s something that you want, but you don’t think anyone will ever be that for you. To care about what you want and try to make you happy. You want a mutual relationship, where someone cares for you as much as you care for them.

Dieter groans as your fingers card through his hair. It’s intoxicating and he almost closes his eyes as he struggles to concentrate on the movie. It’s been so long since someone touched him like this. He nuzzles his cheek into your thigh, just breathing you in as the faux fire crackles and the Christmas lights twinkle. This is what he’s yearned for. “That feels so good, baby.” He hums, keeping his eyes on the screen.

“Just relax and enjoy it.” You murmur softly. It’s nothing for you to play with his hair and you have him almost purring. It’s fun, curling your finger around the small curls and every now and again you scratch his scalp, knowing how much you would love it.

Dieter can’t help but twitch in his pants at the feel of you scratching his scalp. He fucking loves it. With a groan, he tries to discreetly reach down and adjust himself, watching the movie and you from the corner of his eye to see if you notice.

You smirk to yourself when you see him adjust himself, continuing to scratch his head. You just pretend like you don’t know what it's doing to him. So he’s getting turned on by having his head scratched? You’ve been turned on by things that catch you off guard. “Does that feel good, honey?” You ask softly, looking back at the tv.

Dieter is flustered by what you’re doing to him. He never usually gets hard from this kind of thing. He’s had men and women expose every part of themselves and he’s twitched but not gotten hard. This intimacy, the atmosphere has him hard and aching for you but that’s not what he paid you for. He doesn’t want to take advantage and ruin this. This is about the holiday, not sex. The movie is coming to an end and Dieter’s cock is still hard but he has tears in his eyes as he watches Jimmy on screen. So many emotions that he identifies with and yet so many he doesn’t truly understand despite acting them out.

“It always makes me cry.” You sniffle slightly, blinking back tears when you hear them singing at the end. “It’s just so- wonderful.” You laugh at yourself for being such a sap, and sigh, stroking Dieter’s hair one last time before you have to stop touching him.

Dieter sighs in both contentment and a little upset you’ve stopped running your fingers through his hair. “Can we watch something else? Maybe, um, maybe Love Actually? It’s another one of my favorites.” He confesses with a blush as he looks up at you.

You smile at the idea that this man who has so many wild antics in Hollywood has a secret affinity for Love Actually. “We can do that, although we should probably eat more than cookies right? What do you want to eat, honey?”

Dieter bites his lip, “my assistant gets my groceries so I don’t…I don’t really know what I have in the fridge.” He confesses, feeling stupid for not knowing. “But…I wouldn’t mind grilled cheese and tomato soup.” He tilts his head at you.

“That honestly sounds like a perfect meal.” You admit, your own stomach agreeing happily. “Why don’t you come with me and we can make it together?” You suggest. “It’ll be fun. We can use the cookie cutters and make Christmas grilled cheese sandwiches.”

Dieter practically cheers as he shuffles off of the sofa. “Hell yes. I love the way you think, baby!” He grins as he rushes to the kitchen to get started on the dinner with you. This is more than he could’ve ever wanted. You are indulging his every fantasy…well, most of them.

You love the idea that the dinner you are making isn’t something fancy or involved. Simple comfort food that always hits the spot and makes you feel cozy. There is canned soup in his pantry, which is amazingly large and you can just dream of having one day, and there are different cheeses and bread to make the perfect sandwiches. “I love your kitchen.” You gush as you get everything out. “Soooo much.”

Dieter grins, pleased that you like his home. “I didn’t design it. I just bought this home. It used to belong to Brad Pitt.” He snorts, “good thing it wasn’t in the divorce settlement. At least I haven’t been married.” He shrugs, a little upset by that fact but marriages in Hollywood are destined for failure. There are too many temptations and offers.

“What kind of wedding would you want?” You ask curiously as you open the cans and dump them into a pan to warm up the soup. He’s got everything you could want in a kitchen but he obviously doesn’t use it. If you had this kitchen you would cook every day. “Big, small? Lavish, courthouse?”

Dieter leans against the counter and watches you, “I would want a small wedding. Just me and my partner. I don’t have any family and my friends…they aren’t real. Just fake friends who want whatever I can give them.” He sighs, rubbing his cheek, “I’d want a beach wedding. Just me and my partner and no distractions or press.”

“That sounds really nice.” You smile at the thought, imagining Dieter in some white Hawaiian shirt and linen pants, barefoot and grinning happily. “I could see that. Something towards sunset, warm and intimate.” You imagine it for yourself for a moment before dismissing it as stupid. Dieter asked you to spend Christmas with him, not the rest of your life and you know that he could be fickle from what the magazines report. “I hope you get that.” 

Scratching his cheek, Dieter sighs. “I guess we will see. Doesn’t look like it’s on the cards for me but who knows? Maybe one day.” He offers you a weak smile and turns towards the bread. “Do you want me to do anything?”

“Do you want to butter the bread and decide how cheesy you want the sandwiches to be?” You ask as you open the cabinets to see about finding the spices. Canned soup is always better when you add spices. 

Dieter nods, excited to be doing something like this after so long of depending on others to just look after him. He’s hungry today. Probably because he hasn’t gotten high enough to tune out the hunger like he does on days when he’s feeling self conscious. “So what about your dating life? Anyone on your mind?” Dieter asks as he butters the bread.

You snort and shake your head. “Yeah, let me tell you, my dating options are fantastic.” You huff. “Anyone I tell where I work automatically assumes I’m a dancer or that I’m a prostitute.” You roll your eyes. “Or that I’m easy and want to be their doormat. So I just….don’t date.” 

Dieter shakes his head, “people can be fucking idiots. You are doing your job. You’re a cocktail waitress. You aren’t paid to take your clothes off and if you do, you discuss that with your partner and ensure you have proper communication. I have been naked for movie scenes and I’ve talked to my partner about it beforehand to make sure they understand it’s just acting. Also, it’s insane you don’t date. No matter what you do for work, you’re fucking gorgeous and anyone with eyes would be dumb to let your job be a deal breaker.”

“Men can be very weird about things like that.” You give a small shrug and bite back the comment that you are well aware of his nude scenes. It’s always been one of those things that you thought ridiculous where you see everything on a woman and you only see the man’s ass on tv. Although Dieter does have a nice, albeit tiny, ass. “But thank you. I’ve also been told I have high standards for wanting a man to not cheat on me. Apparently being okay with looking but not touching isn’t enough.”

Dieter snorts, “I’m all for free love. If my partner is happy with it. I’ve had threesomes, foursomes, orgies. But never, ever, without the implicit consent of my partner. Most of those times I’ve been single though. Cheating is just fucked up. Just don’t be with someone if you’re gonna cheat on them.” He rolls his eyes, “that’s just wrong. I don’t agree with that shit. When you’re with someone, you’re with them. If not, just break up. Don’t cheat. It’s cruel.” He shakes his head.

You are so surprised at his view on things, although you really appreciate it. “Thank you!” You point the spoon at him. “Exactly. Just be single. Don’t fucking try to justify it by ‘oh I know you’re sleeping with dudes at work’ or ‘well you don’t give me seven blowjobs a week’. Just admit you aren’t made for a monogamous relationship and find something that works for you. Don’t be shitty and lie.”

Dieter nods, “precisely. Just be honest about what you want instead of selling the house and 2.5 kids then go and stick your dick in everything with a pulse. If you wanna do that, find a partner who can accept that. Me…I’ve kinda had my fill of orgies.” He admits seriously, “I’m tired of emotionless sex.”

“I’ve honestly never been into orgies.” You admit. “I’m selfish, I don’t want to share.” You’ve had your experiences and decided it wasn’t for you. “Besides, I’ve found most threesomes are about a guy wanting two girls but being insulted when you want another guy and pitching a fit.”

“Idiots.” Dieter rolls his eyes again, “you’ll find someone who will appreciate you and adore you without needing any of that extra shit.” He promises you, offering you a soft smile. “You’re a beautiful woman, inside and out, and you’ll find the right person.”

“Thank you.” It’s incredibly sweet of him to say that, and you give him a smile of gratitude. “You will find the same thing. Someone who just wants to take care of you and shower you in love and affection.”

Dieter’s heart thumps and he walks over to you at the stove, kissing your cheek. “Thank you, baby.” He knows this doesn’t exactly play into his fantasy but he likes talking to you about your realities. It gives him perspective and he is excited to spend Christmas with you.

Finishing dinner is relatively simple and soon you have another tray of food to bring out to the living room. “This is going to be a great holiday.” You murmur as the sun starts to set and the lights from the Christmas tree appear brighter.

Dieter beams as you tell him it’s going to be a wonderful holiday. He agrees and if so excited to be spending the holiday exactly as he’s always dreamed. He just wishes it was with his family, his children and you as his wife. It’s too easy to imagine when you sit down next to him.

The movie starts and you hand Dieter his bowl of soup and the star shaped grilled cheese slices. “So, when you have babies, how many do you want?” You ask him, really unable to see him with a baby. Maybe like that guy from The Hangover with the kid strapped to his chest.

Dieter dips the sandwich into the soup, chewing as he considers it. “I want at least three.” Your eyes widen and he shrugs, “I have enough money to care for twenty kids. I have the home for them, I have the staff. I just need a woman to have them.”

You snort, imagining him offering money to women to have babies with him. “Okay, Nick Canon, slow the baby gravy train down.” You joke before you take a bite of your own soup.

Dieter playfully rolls his eyes, “I said three. Not twelve. Besides, I don’t want multiple women. I want one. One that I- that I love. It’s just, it’s hard to find because I’m not easy to live with, easy to handle.”

“What are you talking about?” You huff and roll your eyes at his ridiculous comment. “You aren’t difficult to handle. Look at us. Last night you were asking how my cunt tastes and you are perfectly respectful and not acting like a jerk. You are thankful for what I’m doing for you and you are eager to be involved.”

He blushes at your kind words, knowing that he isn’t easy to handle, but you seem to be able to take him in your stride. Reminded of him asking you what your cunt tastes like has him blushing even more. “I, uh, I’m sorry about the, um, the cunt comment. Although I’m sure it does taste like heaven. I was high and I tend to just blurt things out.”

You laugh. “I thought it was funny, at least you were respectful about it, even then.” You don’t want him to beat himself up over it. “You seem like you are respectful of boundaries when they are pointed out. So, please don’t worry about it. At least I have an amazing story. Dieter Bravo asked how I taste.” You laugh again and wink at him playfully.

Dieter chuckles before he takes another bite of the grilled cheese. “You’d be the perfect wife though. You are gorgeous, kind, you can cook, you - any guy would be lucky to have you.” He tells you with a soft smile before he sips on his soup. He knows it’s just a fantasy but it’s too easy to see you in his life.

Your stomach flips and you manage a grin. “Well, when you find someone who wants me, let me know.” You joke, wishing that you didn’t feel vulnerable, like it was never going to happen for you. “Or I’ll just, you know, come spend Christmas with you until you find that perfect wife to give you three babies.”

Dieter grins, “I wouldn’t object to that. Maybe we could just spend the rest of our Christmases together.” He says without truly considering it, just imagining every Christmas like this but with kids running around. It’s a heavy thought but it doesn’t scare him. You seem to put him at ease. “So, um, do you have any plans to have kids in the future?”

“I want them.” You admit, with a small shrug. “But I have to find the guy and a better job. One where I wouldn’t be working at night or worrying about guys hitting on me more because I’m pregnant.” You roll your eyes, remembering how some of them went crazy for one of the dancers when she had been pregnant.

Dieter understands, knowing how guys can act around a pregnant woman. “You’d be a beautiful pregnant woman. I understand why you’d be hit on and I- I know why you’d want a different job.” He doesn’t judge you for your job but he knows why you’d want to change it if you were pregnant.” He wants to tell you he’d provide for you but he knows he can’t be that forward. He barely knows you. “Men can be creeps.” He scoffs, knowing how his sex can be.

“Besides….” You shake your head. “I’m never going to get what I really want.” You sigh. 

“What’s that?” Dieter asks and you bite your lip. “I’d love to be able to get to a point where I could be home with the baby, at least until they are in school. But I would need to become successful first to afford that.”

Dieter sets his now empty plate down and takes your hand in his. “So you become a writer…become successful…and then you’re able to stay at home and look after a baby. Well, shit. We can make that happen. I’m sure my agent has contacts. Do you have any pages written for your idea?”

You’re surprised that he wants to help you out, but you nod, knowing you’ve got at least three chapters down. “I can send you the document if you want to read it.”

“Hell yes. Please baby. Send it to me. I want to read it. See how good you are and maybe I can have my agent send some pages to a publisher so we can get you someone early.” Dieter nods and looks eager to help. 

You blink, surprised that he would be willing to use his connections to help someone else. You don’t know how many articles call Dieter selfish and spoiled, maybe catered to was more accurate, but this was kinder than anyone else has ever been about your writing before. “Thank you.” You gush out, leaning over and kissing his cheek softly.

Dieter’s heart thumps as you kiss his cheek and he flusters, shaking his head. “It’s nothing. It’s, uh, the least I can do. Everyone deserves a chance in this hell hole of a town. Everyone deserves a shot at their dreams.” He declares and then looks back at the movie, “oh this is my favorite part.” He points at the screen as Hugh Grant dances around on the screen.

You look back at the movie and giggle at him gyrating his hips on camera. “He’s a better dancer than you are.” You tease, having seen him dance on the behind the scenes they had put out on the disastrous Cliff Beasts saga.

“Hey!” Dieter pouts at you, “don’t be mean.” He winks at you after a moment, “to be fair, I was high for 99% of that movie and was high when I was dancing so I didn’t really get a chance to be a good dancer.” He chuckles, nudging you gently.

“Oh really?” You grin and put your plate down. Leaping to your feet, you grab his hand. “So come on, show me.” You demand, pausing the movie. “Turn on some music and dance with me. Show me those moves.”

"Oh shit." Dieter grins and shakes his head as he lets you drag him up. He bites his lip, making his way over to the stereo system he owns, complete with huge speakers and a turntable. He's never been a streaming music kind of guy. He loves the feel of vinyl, the sound, it reminds him of his childhood. He picks up a Christmas album while you pause the movie and he grins as the song starts to play through the speakers, reaching for your hand.

Dieter pulls you towards him and you try to ignore the way that your heart races. This isn’t real and he shouldn’t be making you imagine this is everyday, dancing together in the home you share together. “Your assistant bought this today, didn’t she?” You ask with a grin as the words to Jingle Bell Rock pours out of the speakers and both of you start to move to the beat.

Dieter shakes his head, “no. I’ve had my vinyls since I was a kid. I collect them. Nothing like music. I fucking love it, especially on vinyl. Streaming just isn’t the same sound.” Dieter spins you around and he pulls you back into his chest, his hands gripping your waist.

Your grin turns into a delighted laugh and you love how naturally the two of you seem to move together. “What does your collection look like?” You ask, not seeing a bookshelf of vinyls in his living room.

“It’s too big to fit in this room.” He confesses with a blush, “I keep some records out here but switch them out. My main collection is in the movie room.” He has always had a love of movies so naturally, he needed to have a movie room to watch them as well as his living room. “Maybe we can watch something in there later. I wouldn’t mind watching more movies.” He sways you as the music continues.

“That sounds good.” You don’t mind watching movies with him or just going through his records. But he is paying you for the experience that he wants. “Whatever you want to do.” You promise. “Although we do need to maybe go see some Christmas lights?”

Dieter nods, “yes! Let’s take a drive around the neighborhoods to see the lights, we can take some hot chocolate to go and just watch the world pass by.” He sighs, almost romantically, and pulls you close once more.

“That sounds perfect.” You want to tell him that he should decorate his own house, but you don’t. Imagining putting up decorations on the outside of the house as well. It’s not like this is going to last beyond the day after Christmas. You lean in and lay your head on his shoulder as he leads you through the song.

The song comes to an end and Dieter leans back to kiss your cheek. “Thank you for being here baby.” He says even though he knows he’s paying for you to be here. He just indulges in the fact that you are here for him because you want to be. The next song plays but Dieter doesn’t rush to pull back, content to just hold you. It’s been so long since he had this kind of intimacy without expectations.

Somehow, the two of you dance until the record ends, making you whine softly when you have to pull away from Dieter. He was actually a good dancer and warm and comforting. It felt good in his arms. “Should we get ready to go look at Christmas lights?” You offer quietly.

Dieter nods, knowing he can’t exactly wear a sweater and coat in L.A December weather but he’s excited to head out and see the lights in his shorts. “Come on baby!” He calls you from the garage while you get the flask of hot chocolate and marshmallows. He is practically buzzing as you turn on Christmas music for you to cruise through the neighborhood, enjoying the spectacular lights his rich neighbors no doubt paid someone to put up.

“Wow.” Dieter pulls the car to a stop and you both let down the windows to hear the music that is synchronized with the lights for a dazzling show. “I would love to do something like that.” You murmur to yourself, in awe of the time, effort and money it took to do something like that just for the hell of it. “I bet the sound and lights guys for movies have the best setups.” You joke.

Dieter chuckles, “I know a few that live around here. Let’s go see.” He pulls away from the curb, heading towards the guy who did the sound for the Jurassic World movies that lives in the neighborhood. “If his yard isn’t Christmas dinosaur themed, he’s doing it wrong.” Dieter says after he explains who the guy is.

“Ohhhh, I saw a triceratops inflatable for Christmas at the store!” You laugh. “I can imagine doing that or Star Wars themed for kids when I have them. Mickey and Santa are overdone. Find a niche.”

Dieter chuckles, “maybe that Mandalorian dude. People thought I was playing him until he took the helmet off. He looks nothing like me.” He snorts, turning into the street and already the house is impressively decorated.

You snicker and sneak a glance over at him. “Maybe a little.” You tease. “Looks like you two have a similar nose. But your lips are different.” You may or may not have spent a little bit of him staring at his lips during his movies. They are so cute and you love the little crease on his bottom lip.

Dieter smirks, not missing a beat. “You've been looking at my lips, wifey?” He teases, winking at you. You fluster and he loves it. He loves how he seems to affect you.

“You know you’re attractive.” You huff, slightly embarrassed, even though you know you shouldn’t be. Dieter seems to soak up this kind of attention so you don’t mind it too much. “You are on the Sexist People list nearly every year. Although you should have won over Chris Evans.” You snort and bite your own lip.

Dieter wrinkles his nose, “people only see the photo shoots with makeup and hair and stylists. They don’t see trash panda Bravo, which is who I am most days. I don’t tend to bother shaving or dressing in anything other than comfy clothes. If it is any consolation, you’re fucking hot. I haven’t been able to stop looking at your lips either baby. Fucking kissable but I - I didn’t pay you to be my - to be here for that. I paid you to be company and that was our agreement.

That statement should not be that hot to you. It shouldn’t make you want to unbuckle your seatbelt and crush your lips to his. But it does. For all the bullshit antics Dieter Bravo may pull, he genuinely believes in consent and that’s fucking sexy. You had seen the clips where he was asking anyone and everyone to sleep with him during the Cliff Beasts production, and being totally chill when they turned him down. The spoiled actor ego doesn’t extend to the bedroom and that was something that should be appreciated. You cover his hand on the gear knob with your own. “I thought you were hot in a sloppy way when you came in last night.” You promise him with a smirk. “And of course your lips are fucking kissable. You make me want to plant some of my chapstick on your lips.”

Dieter’s eyes widen in a comical way at your words and it soon turns into an undeniably sexy smirk. “Baby…can I fucking kiss you?” He asks, almost whining as he leans a little closer over the console when he’s stopped outside of the home that has a myriad of dinosaur inflatables - including some moving dinosaurs like the damn movie. It’s impressive but Dieter is more interested in you.

Your breath catches when he asks, the flood of arousal undeniable at the way Dieter Bravo is looking at you like he wants to make you Christmas dinner. Your eyes flicker down to his lips and you nod. “Yes.” You are breathless when you give him permission and nervous.

Dieter licks his lips, setting them, before he leans in to softly press his lips to yours. He groans at the first taste of that chapstick you mentioned and he reaches up to cup the back of your head, deepening the kiss. His tongue dips into your mouth and he groans when you open eagerly, allowing him to explore your mouth.

No fucking wonder he could get away with basically having two women on a red carpet event. There’s a small whimper in the back of your throat as your hand comes to curl around the back of his neck, pulling him closer while his tongue slides against yours and his own moan is breathed into your mouth like he is just as affected.

Dieter is in no rush to end this kiss, happily molding his lips to yours while his tongue slides against your teeth before tangling with yours. He caresses your neck while he kisses you until he pulls back after a moment to look at you in surprise. His heart is pounding and he hasn’t been this turned on in a long time. You’ve not even done anything but kiss but it has his heart racing.

You blink for a moment, quiet as you try to comprehend what the hell just happens at your phone dings, making you jump and breaking the spell over the moment. You look down and your heart is pounding. “Oh, there’s a little Christmas thing nearby.” You tell Dieter. “Spiced cider and hot chocolate, hay rides through a Christmas light thing.”

“Yeah? You wanna go babe?” Dieter asks, reaching for your free hand and acting like what just happened wasn’t as big a deal as his heart is making it out to be. His heart is thumping in his chest but he doesn’t let that show as he asks you to give him directions to this Christmas thing.

The two of you are quiet until you pull up into the busy parking lot. Kids and parents everywhere and you grin to yourself as you get out of the car. “They even have a little snow area!” You exclaim, pointing out the area where they were making snow for the kids to play in. It was melting quickly but the kids didn’t care, making snow angels. “One year I want to be snowed into a cabin for  Christmas.” You sigh wistfully.

“Oooh, that sounds like a dream. Snow falling. Fire going. Maybe one day we could do that.” Dieter is eager, parking the car and he gets out and comes around to open your door, holding his hand out for you. “Come on, let’s go.”

There is traditional Christmas music geared towards kids playing and the entire atmosphere is one of magic and joy. Even a sigh to visit Santa Claus for a last minute sit on his lap. Your hand in his feels just right and you squeeze his hand. “What do you want to do first?” You ask. “Oh! They have roasted chestnuts! I’ve always wanted to try them!”

Dieter grins, guiding you towards the chestnuts. “Come on baby, let’s get you some nuts.” He winks, making you roll your eyes, and he chuckles when you end up giggling at his dumb joke. He buys you a bag of roasted chestnuts, “here you go wifey.”

You pop one of the roasted nuts into your mouth and moan in pleasure and surprise at the taste. “Honey, you have to try this.” Your fingers immediately dive into the bag to pluck another and hold it up to his lips. “Please hubby?” You bat your eyes at him playfully.

He smirks, taking the nut from your grip and he wraps his lips around your fingers as he takes the nut into his mouth. He closes his eyes and pulls back, chewing on the roasted chestnut and he hums at the taste. “That’s fucking delicious.” He says after he swallows, his hand finding your waist and he squeezes your hip.

You can’t help yourself, not when he looks so cute and thrilled to be right here with you. Leaning in, you press your lips to his in a kid-friendly kiss that still has your heart pounding in your chest as you rock back on your heels and grin at him. “I’m paying for the spiced cider.” You promise. “My portion of our Christmas date.”

Dieter’s heart thumps at the kiss you offer him and he shakes his head at your offer to pay for the cider. “No. No. I’m paying for it.” He insists, “especially if this is a date night.” He continues the ruse, honestly wanting to believe it, it would be easy to imagine you as his wife. “I’m not letting my wife pay for anything.” He shakes his head, leaning in to kiss your cheek.

You roll your eyes playfully and huff at his inability to let you pay. “Fine.” You pout and sigh dramatically. “I’ll let my husband spoil me.” You reach for his hand and lace your fingers with his. “Let’s get our cider and get in line for the hayride.”

It’s too easy to be with you like this but Dieter knows that it’s end come the day after Christmas. He’s going to enjoy every second of your company. After paying for the cider, you wait in line for the hayride and Dieter notices a woman talking to her husband, both of them staring at Dieter. He sighs, knowing they recognize him despite his genius disguise of a baseball cap and plain t-shirt. He just hopes no one gets photos…for your sake.

“It’s cool, isn’t it?” You lean around Dieter and speak to the woman. “Seeing him in public.” You grin and put your fingers up to your lips. “Don’t tell anyone, since he’s trying to be incognito, but I can take a quick pic of you with him if you want. As long as you don’t post it tonight. Let him enjoy the Christmas Eve festivities.” You look back at Dieter to see if he’s okay with that.

Dieter nods, smiling at your genius way of getting the woman to keep his presence a secret. He quickly saddles up beside her after she hands you her phone and he grins as you take the photo, winking at you as he steps back beside you and kisses your cheek, “thank you baby. You should be my new PR manager.” He teases, taking his drink back from you after the woman thanks him.

Preening slightly at the compliment, you take a sip of your cider. “People are in awe when they see famous people being just like them.” You give him a small shrug and shuffle closer to him, enjoying the coziness of the atmosphere. “Let them think they are the only ones that figured it out, and they don’t spill the beans.”

Dieter rubs your arm, “you’re right but now, let’s hope we don’t get any more fuss about me being here. I want us to have privacy without people swarming. I hate that shit.” He leans in to press a kiss to your neck. He is grateful you agreed to spend this time with him. When you are called to get on the hayride, Dieter tosses your finished cider cups away and helps you up, his hand close to your ass.

The two of you are huddled together on the ride, not because the temperature calls for it, but the moment does. Leaning into him and holding his hand is natural, and you tuck your face against his neck with your other arm around his back. “Are you enjoying yourself, honey?” You whisper, wanting to make sure he’s not suddenly feeling anxious about being out with you. You’re a nobody and you can’t imagine that would be good for his reputation.

“I am. It’s perfect.” Dieter grins, cheeks almost hurting with how perfect today has been. You are worth every single penny he spent for your company. That reminds him that he paid for your company, you’re here for the money, not for him, and that makes him stiffen a little beside you.

When Dieter stiffens, you think there’s something that he doesn’t like so you rub his back more, looking around to see if you can spot anyone staring or taking pictures. You can’t even imagine how difficult it has to be sometimes. “Hey, when we go back to your house, do you want to change into pajamas and watch another movie?” You ask, wanting him to focus on something to look forward to. “Maybe make some popcorn and make out?” You take a risk and kiss his jaw, wanting to kiss him again.

Dieter hums, deep in thought about why you want to make out. Perhaps you pity him so much you think he’d want that. Or maybe you genuinely want to kiss him? He doesn’t know and he’s confused right now so he doesn’t say anything. Just waits until the ride is over to help you down and finally, he says “why do you want to make out with me?”

“Oh.” Your cheeks burn and you look away, mortified that you had read him wrong. “I- it was really nice kissing you. I’m sorry- I shouldn’t have- we don’t have to, I promise.” You rush out. “I’m not going to pout or throw myself at you.” You promise him, sure that he thinks if you like one of those fans who would tear his clothes off just to say they slept with Dieter Bravo.

Dieter notices how mortified you are and it hits him that you aren’t trying to please him, you want to kiss him. That makes his stomach twist and his heart thumping so hard he swears you can hear it. He surges forward to press his lips to yours, “it was really nice to kiss you too.” He murmurs as he pulls away from the quick peck.

Giggling in relief, you can’t help but grin. “I’m sorry, I know I must seem like an idiot, I just- you’re really nice and this has been a good day.” You huff, a little self conscious before you lean in and kiss him again.

Dieter pouts and shakes his head, cupping your cheeks, “not at all, baby. You have made this a perfect day. I want to go home, change into pajamas and make out.” He playfully nips your lower lip, “you ready to go?”

“Yes.” You’re a little breathless and beam at him, feeling your stomach flutter and you wonder why he seems to affect you so much. You’ve been hit on by men but he seems to just make you feel like a schoolgirl with a crush

Dieter is soon guiding you back to his car, eager to get home, and he opens the door to help you in before he rushes around to get in the car. “Let’s go home, baby.” He says as he pulls out of the parking lot, eager to get home and kiss you again.

The drive back to Dieter’s house is a lot quicker, both of you quiet as you watch the houses pass by. Biting your lip when you pull into the driveway, you look over at Dieter. “So I’ll change and meet you back downstairs?”

“Sounds like a plan, baby.” He grins, “go get changed.” He gets out of the car and quickly unlocks his house, eager to change into his own pajamas and settle on the sofa with you. He’s already half hard at the thought of kissing you, touching you.

You go back to the room that he had shown you to and change into your pajamas. You had packed some Christmas pajamas that would be perfect tonight, and you very purposefully take your bra off before you leave the bedroom and head towards the living room to meet Dieter there.

Dieter sits down on the sofa, eagerly waiting for you, and when you arrive in the festive pajamas, his breath is taken away. Shit, you look sexy even in those pajamas. “Come on baby, sit down. I thought we could watch Home Alone.” He pats the space beside him, eager to have you close.

“Home Alone is life.” You eagerly plop down next to him and throw your legs over his like you’ve done it a million times. “Always disappointed no one ever broke in at Christmas so I could wreck havoc. And that my parents weren’t rich enough to go to Paris.”

“What the fuck did his dad do to be able to afford to take all those people to Paris? Fuck, even I wouldn’t be that generous.” Dieter snorts and rubs your calves as the movie starts.

You bite back a moan at the way his fingers dig into the meat and muscle of your calves. “I don’t know, you’re pretty generous.” You compliment him, knowing that he’s been very generous with you.

“I guess I gotta get myself four kids to take on vacation to Paris and accidentally leave one behind.” He jokes, squeezing your calf and he can’t help but let his hand ride higher up, over your knee to your thigh.

“Four kids!” Your dramatic, wide eyed expression is absolutely to make him laugh and the warmth of it rolls over you when he does. “Good luck finding someone to have four kids. What happened to three? I think two would be my max.”

Dieter chuckles, “not if you get addicted to the sex.” He jokes, squeezing your thigh, “my oral can be very persuasive.” He sticks his tongue out and leans in to lick your neck, making your squeal and he chuckles against your skin until he stops, kissing your neck.

You have to remind yourself that this is a little scene for Dieter, he doesn’t really want you to have his kids. That would be crazy. Instead of lamenting that fact, you turn your head so your nose brushes his. “Hi.” You whisper with a grin.

Dieter grins, pulling back to look into your eyes, “hi.” He nudges his nose with yours. “Wanna make out?” He whispers and when you nod, he gently presses his lips to yours despite wanting to make out. He’s slow, cupping your cheek, and sliding his tongue into your mouth.

It’s juvenile to make out on a couch while a movie plays, but you love it. Moaning into his mouth softly while your tongues explore and you feel the familiar heat of arousal starting to burn in your core. Somehow, the two of you manage to end up horizontal on the sofa, you on top of Dieter surprisingly, and you are subtly rocking against him as you kiss.

Dieter caresses your back, his tongue moving with yours and his hands slide down to your ass, squeezing and pulling you closer to him, grinding you against him. He groans into your mouth, enjoying the feel of you above him, and he lets you lead this, not wanting to go too far.

You whine, feeling the hardening bulge under you and pull away, gasping for air while you look down at him. “I- I don’t want this to- I want to have sex with you.”  You admit. “Not because I’m- but because I want you.”

Dieter grins, “yeah? You want me to fuck you baby?” He asks, kissing your jaw and down to your neck. “You want me to make you cum?” He questions, squeezing your ass again. He’s eager to get you naked, hear you moan his name.

“Yes.” You whimper, grinding down on his cock and rolling your hips. Just because you didn’t dance at the club didn’t mean that you couldn’t. You press your lips to his gently. “Take me to bed, Dieter.”

Dieter nods, playfully smacking your ass, and he lets you shift off of him. He doesn’t care about the movie playing as he guides you to his bedroom. It’s a huge en-suite with a king sized bed and he turns to you as he stands in front of it. “Let me fuck you.” He requests, his hands caressing your waist.

You smirk and start to lift your shirt over your head. “First I want you to find out what my cunt tastes like.” You demand, exposing your tits to his eyes and tossing the shirt down. “And I want to see if the cock shown in Blue Hypnosis was actually yours or a body double.”

Dieter smirks, stepping away from you and his eyes are fixed on your breasts. “Shit. I wanna-” He can’t help himself, surging forward and ducking down to suck on your nipple, biting and licking over the hardening bud and groaning as you reach down to cup him through his sweats.

“Fuck!” You hiss, loving the pain and pleasure from his tongue, feeling how eagerly he is sucking on your nipple. Like he is trying to feed from you. His cock twitches against your palm and you curl your fingers around him through the material. “Fuck baby, you’re hung.”

He grins against your breast, pulling back after a moment to look at you, “oh I know.” He winks and shifts to kneel down, hooking his fingers in your shorts. He pulls them down and groans at the sight of your lack of underwear and the curls at the apex of your thighs. “Shit, you’re gorgeous.” Helping you step out of the shorts, he kisses your thighs before he stands up, “want you spread out on my bed.”

Rushing over to the bed, you lay down and spread your legs wide to let him see your already wet cunt. “Strip for me, Dieter.” You demand, loving the idea of watching him take off his clothes. “I want to see you.”

Dieter nods, shuffling back to pull his shirt off and he shoves his sweats down, exposing his thick cock, bobbing with heaviness and a bead of precum threatening to fall off of the tip. He’s cut and just long enough that you know you will feel him in your gut without it hurting. “Like the movie?” He teases, standing there in a pose.

You grin at the cockiness of the stance and have to admit he has a reason to be cocky. “I don’t know.” You tease, tilting your head. “It looks like you’re bigger than the cock in the movie.”

Dieter chuckles and winks at you, “glad to hear it. It’s yours baby.” He tells you as he kneels on the bed and he shifts into his stomach, kissing along your calf. He licks the space behind your knee as he shifts further up your body until he is sliding his tongue between your folds.

The gasp you give out is loud, even to your own ears. It’s been a long time since someone has licked your pussy and Dieter is unusually enthusiastic about it. Most men were very humdrum about it, viewing it as a chore or something to complete as quickly as possible. Not him, he spreads your legs wide and seems to settle down to explore with his tongue.

Dieter groans at the taste of you, his tongue diving deep and his fingers dig into your thighs as he pushes them back so he can get even deeper inside of you. He loves eating pussy, one of his favorite pastimes if he’s honest, and he flicks his tongue over your clit.

“Oh fuck.” Your eyes flutter closed as you try to ground yourself. You hadn’t expected this but you aren’t complaining. Not at all. Reaching down, your fingers tangle through his curls and fisting into his hair. “Oh fuck baby, it’s so good.”

Groaning when you tug on his hair, making him nuzzle his face further into your cunt, and he sucks on your clit…hard. His hands slide under your ass, tilting your hips more so he can slide his tongue deeper inside of you, his nose pressed against your clit.

“Shit.” Your choked out cry is nearly strangled. You’ve never had a man who wanted to push his tongue inside you. Always saying that your clit it where he needed to be. “Oh dear God, how - how do you not do porn? You should.”

Dieter chuckles, pulling back for a moment to look up at you. “I nearly did before I got my big break as an adult. Nearly needed the money.” He spits, letting his saliva dribble onto your clit, and he lathes his tongue over your folds to spread his spit. He is desperate for you to cum, wanting you to moan his name loud and clear as he pushes his tongue back inside of you.

Shuddering at the fact that Dieter just spit on your cunt, you bite your lip and your hips jerk down roughly. You’re a little desperate at the way his tongue is curling and twisting inside you. “Fuck, oh fuck.” Your fingers tug on his hair as the knot of pleasure pulls tight inside you. “I’m gonna cum baby. Oh fuuuuuuuck!” You squeal, overwhelmed with how quickly it slams into you.

Dieter keeps his tongue buried deep as you clamp down around it, soaking his mouth and chin with your cum. He fucking loves it, lapping deep for get every drop while his nose continues to press against your clit. He works you through it, wanting to prolong your orgasm despite his cock throbbing and trapped against the mattress.

It seems to drag out forever. Wave after wave of pleasure making your thighs shake around his ears. Pressing them tight against his head until his groan vibrates through you.

Dieter works you through it, moaning when you tug on his hair to pull him away when it gets too much, and he kisses your clit one last time before he shifts to kiss your thighs as you relax them. “Can I fuck you?” He asks, needing to be inside of you. He is aching, leaking onto his sheets as he waits for you to tell him he can slide inside of you.

You nod, blissed out and you frown slightly when you remember one very important thing. “I- we need a condom.” You don’t trust anyone without a condom, the fact that you take birth control is not even factored in. It’s more about sexual health and preventing any STDs. 

Dieter nods. “I have one.” That makes you feel better because you didn’t bring any despite wondering if you should. You honestly hadn’t anticipated sleeping with him so you had left them at home.

Dieter shifts to hover over you, reaching into his nightstand to grab a condom, and he leans back on his haunches while he opens the foil packet and rolls the rubber down his cock. He pumps himself a few times, looking down at you. “Fuck, you’re so gorgeous.” He murmurs, caressing your thigh with his other hand. 

“Fuck me.” You beg and he smirks, shifting to notch his cock at your entrance. Slowly pushing into you, he groans at the way your walls are already squeezing him.

Your mouth opens on a long moan, head tilting back as he fills you. So much thicker and deeper than his tongue, you love that he is slowly sliding into you inch by inch until his pubic hair is grinding against your clit.

“Shit baby. You feel - shit you’re so tight.” Dieter hisses through his teeth, unable to believe how good you feel around him, squeezing him. He swallows harshly before he leans down to press his lips to yours, his tongue sliding against yours when he begins to rock his hips.

Caressing his shoulder, you kiss him back eagerly, lifting a leg and wrapping it around his hip. Opening yourself up even more so he can work his way deeper into your cunt. “It’s- it’s because you have such a big- big dick.” You whimper, biting his chin when you pull away to speak.

Dieter grins, waggling his eyebrows as he looks down at you. “Glad you approve, baby girl.” He pecks your lips, pushing deep with slow, precise thrusts that make you give him the sweetest moans. He’s in no rush despite how horny he’s been for you, but he doesn’t want to rush this. He wants you to cum a couple of times before he does.

The rhythm is easy, no punishing pace that has you struggling to keep up. His strokes are sure and deep, but he isn’t chasing his own orgasm. Another surprise that has you rocking your hips up, enjoying the drag of his length against your walls and his lips against yours.

His hands squeeze your tits and he pinches your nipples, loving the way you gasp against his chin. “So fucking beautiful, wifey.” He teases, nipping your jaw and he kisses down your neck. Licking and sucking until he is taking your nipple into his mouth, biting down.

Walls clenching down around him, you moan again. Loving that he’s paying attention to your tits and mixing pain and pleasure together. He sucks harshly again and you hum. “Only for you honey.” You promise, playing along. “Need you to make me cum like only you can.”

Dieter loves how you play along, making him shudder as he rocks into you and he kisses along your sternum until he can press his lips to yours once more. He tilts his hips, trying to find the perfect spot to make you squeal.

Everything thrust pushes you up the bed slightly, making you bite your lip until that certain spot is hit with devastating accuracy. Making you cry out and sob his name when he pushes against it again.

“There it is.” He drawls, smiling as he focuses to hit that spot again. Your hand pressed against the headboard to stop your head from hitting it, and Dieter grabs your waist to keep you still. On his knees, he puts his force behind his thrusts as he focuses on that spot, needing you to cum for him.

Your other leg wraps around him and your hips and ass are lifted up off the bed as he fucks you. Every slam of his hips making you cry out, toes curling behind his back. It feels like he’s hammering into you with a battering ram and you fucking love it, your nails dragging down his arms and leaving red welts. “Fuck!” You squeal, body locking up and your vision going blurry as you soak him in your pleasure.

The way you clamp down on his cock has him groaning your name but he doesn’t cum. He grunts, caressing your hips, and he works you through it, not relenting his pace as he pushes you through it onto another orgasm. He is desperate to feel you cum again, desperate to make you stay here in his bed. “Shit. So fucking tight.” He hisses, working you through it.

His name becomes like a chant, a prayer dripping from your lips while his cock drills into you again and again. You hadn’t expected his stamina to last but you are thanking God or whoever is out there that it does. It’s wet, squelching, and you would be embarrassed of the fact that your pussy is being audaciously loud except for the fact that Dieter is loving it. Groaning and hissing as he rocks above you, saying ‘yes’ every time he hears it.

Dieter hisses, jaw clenched and he pulls out of you, making you whine. He flips you onto your stomach, straddling your thighs and he grips his wet cock, pushing back into you from behind and his eyes roll into his head at how tight you feel around him.

“That’s it. That’s fucking it, baby.” He groans, loving the way you cry out beneath him. He rocks into you, sweat beading on his forehead as he works himself deep into your cunt, hitting that spot over and over again. “Such a good girl. So good for me. Wifey. My wifey gripping my fucking cock. Want her to cum again.” He smacks your ass, squeezing it before he smacks it again.

You whine, trying to push back against him. You know that he’s wearing a condom, you watched him roll it on, but you pretend he’s not wearing it. “Fill me up, baby.” You beg hun. “Want to feel it. Want my hubby to- to fill me up.” You don’t know if he would like that, but you’ll see.

Your words make Dieter whine but he desperately wants you to cum one more time. “Shit. You want me to paint your tight walls? Fill you up with my cum?” He plays along, “knock my wifey up?” He has always had a little breeding kink but he’s always been worried that one woman would take it seriously and he’d have a love child. He’s always been so careful but you make him want to throw everything out the window.

“Fuck yes!” Your own breeding kink roars to life. Any boyfriends you had thought it was weird since you didn’t actually want to get pregnant. They didn’t understand that the idea was hot, but you didn’t want kids with them. This was safe. “God Dieter, put your baby in me. Fuck, please, please, I want it.”

He growls, loving how you feed into his kink with your own desires. “Gonna do it. Just need you to cum. Cum for your husband. Cum for me and I’ll fill you up.” He promises, rocking into you hard and fast and he smacks your ass before he shoves his hand beneath you to rub your clit.

That rub against your clit pushes you over the edge. Turning your head, you press your mouth to his sheets and muffle your cry, even then it’s loud. Walls locking down around him and another hot rush of your cum coating him while every nerve in your body lights up and explodes in pleasure.

The way you clamp down on him has him wishing he could feel how wet you are as you cum but he is soon focusing on his own orgasm. He groans, rocking a few times into you, and he hisses, “gonna cum. Gonna fill you up. Gonna knock you up.” He moans your name as he stills, burying his cock deep inside of you and filling the condom with his seed.

You whine when you feel him push deep, throbbing inside you although you don’t get the warmth that you would if he was actually filling you up. This is as good as it will get and it’s for the best. “So good baby, it’s so good.” Your eyes flutter closer and you smile when you lay your cheek against the sheet. “Fill me up, baby. Put that baby in my belly.”

Dieter pants, shifting so his body covers yours, and he groans your name as he twitches inside of you. “Fuck. You’re so good.” He groans, kissing your neck as he relaxes over you, keeping you pressed into the mattress.

“Hmmm.” You smile lazily, not minding the weight of him on top of you as you catch your breath. “I think I should be saying that to you.” You praise him. “Don’t think I’ve cum that many times in one go in a long time.”

Dieter grins, proud to hear you say that. “Gotta take care of my wifey.” He pulls out of you, gripping the condom, and he quickly removes it, tying it off and tossing it onto the nightstand before he lays down beside you, looking at your beautiful, blissed out face. He grins, happy to have this moment with you. “This is the best Christmas Eve I’ve ever had.”

You send him a smile with your eyes cracked open. His fingers stroke up and down your spine and you are about to start purring like a cat. “I’m glad honey.” You honestly are. “I am having a great time too.”

Dieter smiles, continuing to caress your spine, and when you hum and snuggle closer to him, he kisses you. Slow and soft, unhurried and he just enjoys being beside you. He is soon falling asleep - always does after an orgasm - and keeps you in his arms until after the clock strikes midnight. "Merry Christmas." You whisper to a sleeping Dieter.

****

Waking before he does, you slip silently out of the bed. Needing to pee but you don’t go to his bathroom, instead you make your way down to the guest bedroom you hadn’t slept in to do that and wrap his present before throwing on some clothes so you can get started cleaning up the kitchen from the night before and start making breakfast for you and Dieter.

Dieter wakes up to the scent of bacon and he groans, patting the bed but the spot you occupied is cold. He grunts and opens one eye, realizing it’s Christmas morning. “It’s Christmas.” He whispers to himself with excitement, looking forward to giving you the gift he had his assistant buy for you. He had picked it out, of course. After peeing and brushing his teeth, he pulls on a pair of boxers and makes his way into the kitchen to find you cooking. “Morning wifey.” He coos, stepping behind you to kiss your neck, “merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, honey.” You turn in his arms and kiss his lips before you turn back towards the bacon so it doesn’t burn. “I hope you don’t mind, I wanted to cook you breakfast so we could eat it in front of the Christmas tree.”

Dieter caresses your hips, “mind? Baby, it’s perfect.” He promises, kissing your neck when you turn back to the stove. “This is everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” He murmurs, knowing he’s paying you for this but he desperately wants you to be real, this to be real. He sighs, “I have a present for you too.”

“Dieter.” You tut and look over your shoulder to pout at him. “You shouldn’t have gotten me anything.” Even though you have a present for him under the tree, he has done way too much for you already. “I have a present for you too.”

Dieter grins, “you didn’t have to do that baby.” He tuts and kisses your neck again. He steps back away from you and lets you finish cooking while he watches, wanting this situation every weekend. He wants you. “You’re too good to me, baby.” He groans when you set the breakfast down in front of him.

You move back over to his kitchen counter to pour up two cups of coffee. Not sure how he liked his coffee, you had made mocha with some of the peppermint chocolate that you had from baking cookies. You had melted the bits and put it in the sugar and creamer. “I enjoy doing things like that, but you are more than welcome.” You wink and drop a kiss on his lips before you sit down opposite him. “Merry Christmas.” 

Dieter grins as you sit down and he holds his mug up towards you, “Merry Christmas, baby girl.” He winks and takes a sip of the coffee, groaning at the taste. “Shit, you’re too good at treating me.” He gestures to the breakfast and he knows it’s gonna be hard to go back to being alone.

“The day’s not over yet.” You remind him playfully. “We still have dinner tonight, beef wellington of course, and whatever else you want to do.” Most of the Christmasy activities you had managed to get packed into last night, so you could honestly do whatever. You just want him to have the experience he wants, not just for the money now.

Dieter smiles, “that sounds perfect. I want us to have a relaxing day. Maybe we can watch some more movies and…and I wouldn’t mind, uh, having you for dessert at some point today. If you’re not sore.” He adds, not wanting to push you. He only wants you if you want him.

You smirk, the soreness between your thighs just telling you that you had been fucked right the the night before. “Pillow fort on the floor in the movie room?” You ask with a wink. “We could do naked Christmas.”

Dieter smirks back at you, “I like the way you think.” He digs into the breakfast, moaning and groaning at the taste, and he doesn’t speak as he appreciates your cooking. “Best Christmas morning meal ever.” He compliments you when his plate is cleared.

“Thank you.” You don’t know exactly what he normally does for meals, but you just wanted him to enjoy his time and eat well while you are together. It doesn’t hurt that you love his kitchen and would spend all your time in there if you could. “I’m just going to clean this up if you want to get started on setting up the movie room? Then we’ll open presents? Or do you want to do that now?”

“I want to do it now. Leave the dishes. We can get to them later.” He tells you, reaching for your hand. “Get the presents, baby.” He gestures to the two presents under the tree. He can’t wait to give you the present he had purchased for you, excited to see the look on your face when you open it.

“I hope you know you didn’t have to do anything.” You feel bad, especially since he is paying you to be here. Although you think you’re going to tell him not to pay you the other ten thousand. It wouldn’t be right since you’ve slept together. The paper is beautiful and you pick it up and grin at him as you shake it slightly like a child.

Dieter chuckles, watching you as you carefully open the present to reveal the red box inside. “I- I wanted to get you something to remember me after we - after the holiday ends.” He confesses, reluctant to let you go but he knows you wouldn’t want to stay here with him after you get the money. You recognize the red box with gold etching and your hand shakes a little as you open it to reveal the bracelet inside. “I, uh, I had it engraved too.”

“Dieter- it’s too much.” You gasp, fingers brushing over the beautiful bracelet and you look up at him in awe. He can’t return it, it’s custom and you are blown away at the thoughtfulness of the gift. “It’s not.” He insists and you lean forward and press your lips to his. “Put it on me.” You demand, overwhelmed at his generosity.

Grinning, Dieter carefully takes the bracelet and opens it using the screwdriver, fastening it onto your wrist so it can’t be taken off. “It’s yours. No matter what, you are keeping this.” Dieter insists, kissing the back of your hand after the bracelet is secure on your wrist.

“Too kind.” You huff, kissing him again before you pick up the wrapped present you had decided on for him. It’s definitely not near as luxurious as his gift and you wonder if he will be disappointed in it. But what do you get a man who has what Dieter does?

He carefully takes the present, following your example as he carefully opens the paper. He takes the box and opens the lid, eyes widening at the sight of the book. He grins, “A Christmas Carol?” He takes the book out and opens the first page, seeing your writing, and he murmurs as he reads it, “to the best Christmas I’ve ever had with an amazing man.” You signed it and dated it and even though it’s simple, it’s the best thing he’s ever gotten for Christmas. “Thank you so much baby.” He surges forward to press his lips to yours.

You sigh in relief that he does hate it, grinning against his lips. “Now that we’ve opened presents, let’s get ready to spend the rest of the day indulging in whatever we want.” You pull back and give him a dirty wink. “Be a good boy and I’ll even wash the dishes naked.” You tease, unable to resist kissing him again.

His cock twitches at your words and Dieter smirks at you, “oh I can be a good boy, sweetheart.” He chuckles and shifts to sit on the sofa, patting his lap for you to sit with him. “Come on, want a Christmas kiss from my girl.” He tells you, pouting his lips slightly.

There is something inherently vulnerable in the way that Dieter looks at you. Like he is halfway expecting rejection and seems surprised and pleased when you don’t do that. Instead you straddle his waist and grin as you wrap your arms around his neck. “Christmas kiss, huh?” You tease. “I guess it better be good.”

Dieter beams at the way you straddle him and he eagerly presses his lips to yours, his tongue sliding along your bottom lip before his hands squeeze your ass while you leisurely kiss him. There’s no rush, just enjoyment as you relish a Christmas kiss.

Humming, you could live in this kiss. Wanting to just swim in it forever. His earring is stupid and his hair unfairly soft, and you love the dumb tattoos on his arms, even more the ones on his thighs. Today you are going to explore them, do what you want to him this time.

Dieter kisses you several times, his hands rubbing your body, and he is content to just be in this moment with you. He loves how you feel, he loves how you sound, how you taste. Shit. He presses his lips to yours again, wanting to distract himself from his own thoughts.

There’s a change in the way that he kisses you. It becomes a little more desperate, needy and you wonder if he’s thought of something he doesn’t like. Especially the way that he’s not gripping you any tighter or trying to take it farther than the kiss. Instead of pulling away, you sink your fingers into his hair and scratch his scalp. “How about a Christmas soak in a tub before pillow forts and movies?”

“Sounds good baby. I have some bath bombs we can use.” He kisses along your jaw while you scratch his scalp and he groans at the feeling of your nails on his head. He reluctantly pulls back from you, smacking your ass. “Let’s get that bath ready.”

You give a small giggle and shake your head as you stand up. “I hope you have an amazing bathtub.” You grab his hand and help pull him up with a small grunt. “Want to luxuriate in a bath and maybe ride you if you want.”

“Jesus, you know how to spoil me baby.” He chuckles, guiding you into his room and through to the master bathroom so he can get the bath running. After setting the temperature, he searches for the bath bombs and throws a couple in, excited to get in there with you and see you naked again. You lean against the counter and he just stares, thinking that you’re fucking gorgeous.

Smirking, you see the way that his eyes are trailing up and down your body, seeming peering under your pajamas. “Someone wants a little strip show?” You tease, rolling your hips as you reach for the bottom of your shirt to pull it up to just under your breasts.

His eyes widen slightly and he nods, almost fast enough to make himself dizzy. “Please baby. Let me see you. I want to see you.” He is already hardening in his shorts just from the thought of touching you again.

You’ve stripped for exactly one other man. A boyfriend for a year that you found out was seeing your ex-best friend behind your back. You had seen the text messages between them and knew how they viewed you for working in a strip club so you had never done it again. But now, you feel good as you watch him nearly drool as you lift your shirt up to show him one breast.

“Don’t tease.” Dieter whines, “come on baby. Let me see you. Want to suck on your tits. Want to make you cum.” He says, leaning against the counter and crossing his arms while he waits for you to put on a show.

Biting your lip, you chuckle and slowly pull your shirt up over your head and whip it around your hand before you throw it towards Dieter. Cupping your tits and winking at him while you turn around and look over your shoulder, shaking your ass at him.

His chuckle turns into a groan as you put on a show, tossing the shirt he caught down on the counter behind him. “You’re so sexy. I’d say you’ve been wasted as a cocktail waitress but I would be lying because I’m happy only I’ve had the chance to see this, to see you like this.”

“You like this?” You coo, smirking at him and hooking your fingers under your pajamas pants and sashay your hips down and then back up. Teasing as you start to push them down slowly, almost a fraction of an inch at a time.

“Like it? Baby I love it.” Dieter watches you expose your ass to his eager eyes and he fucking loves it. Groaning your name, he watches you visually tease him and he reaches down to squeeze his hard cock through his pants.

It makes you feel incredibly powerful. This man, this Oscar winning actor could have models or starlets in his bed and he wants you, his cock is hard for you. You start twerking slightly as you bend over and let him see more, including where you are already soaked at the thought of fucking him again.

“Fuck.” He hisses, watching you with rapture, and he squeezes himself again, “you’re already wet.” He can’t believe how gorgeous you are, how sexy you are, and you’re wet for him. The bath is nearly run and he reluctantly pushes off of the counter so he can turn off the water, testing it with his hand.

“Of course I am.” You shake your head and pout at him. “You fucked me really good last night. Was it a fluke? Or because you were still a little high?” You notice that his eyes are dilated today and he’s sober. “How will it be today?”

Dieter shakes his head, pulling you close and his hands caress your waist. “I will make you cum. I - I am human so I’m not perfect every time but I’m sober today. I don’t want to be high because - because you alone make me happy. I want to feel you, I want to - to be in this moment with you.” He leans in to kiss your jaw.

“I like that.” You close your eyes and tilt your head back and wrap your arms around him again. “I’ve been enjoying this entire thing. All of it. You’ve been wonderful.”

Dieter kisses along your neck, “this is the best Christmas I’ve ever had. I don’t want you to leave.” He murmurs against your skin, his hands squeezing your ass as he pulls you even closer to his body until his hard cock is pressed into your hip. “Let me fuck you in the bath baby.”

“Un uh.” You shake your head and grin as you bite his chin. “I’m going to fuck you in the bath. Be a good boy and strip off and get in the water. I want to sit on your hard cock.”

Groaning, Dieter nods and shifts to step away from you. Putting on his own show as he reaches for the hem of his shirt, pulling it over his head and he tosses it down before shoving his shorts and boxers down in one move, his hard cock bouncing free. “Want you to fuck me.” He says, stepping into the large tub and groaning at the hot water.

Biting your lip, you remember the condom and look around. “Do you have a condom in here, baby?” You wish that you felt comfortable enough to go without, but you don’t know when the last time he got tested was. Especially since this wasn’t a permanent thing.

“Shit. Uh, yeah, in the third drawer down. We don’t have to have sex. I wouldn’t mind just making out if you aren’t comfortable.” He tells you, not wanting you to be pressured if you aren’t comfortable with fucking him in the bath.

“Not comfortable?” You frown, shaking your head and digging through the drawer to find the condoms. “Baby, the only thing that I wish is that you had a recent STD test so I could feel you bare. I want to fuck you and that amazing cock of yours.” It’s a surprising thought for you since you never do unprotected sex, but you want it with him.

Dieter’s eyes widen, “wait. I had one a couple of weeks ago and I haven’t slept with anyone since because I’ve been filming. It’s on my phone.” He completely forgot about it, “we can still use a condom but I did have a test done. Just to assure you I’m clean.”

You bite your lip, gauging his honesty and deciding that you are going to take a risk. “I haven’t - I’m clean. It’s been a long time since I was with someone else.” You promise him. “And I’m on birth control.” You hold the condom up that you found and cock your head slightly. “Do you want to use it, or do you want to risk it? I want to- to risk it.”

Dieter stares at you, surprised that you are completely trusting him. He wouldn’t lie to you but some people would take advantage of your trust. You trust him. He would never betray that. “It’s not a risk when I trust you. I swear I’m clean. Get my phone and I’ll show you but I - I want to feel you. I want to cum inside of you.” The memory of last night with your breeding kink has him twitching under the water.

“I trust you. You’re trusting me too.” You remind him, sure that plenty of beautiful women have told him that they are on birth control and they aren’t, looking for an 18 year payout in child support. You toss the condom down and stride over to the tub to step in and sink down to your knees to straddle him in the large vessel. “You want to fill me up, baby?” You coo. “Plant your baby inside me for Christmas?”

Dieter groans, reaching out to grip your waist, and he loves that you are playing into the kink already. “Absolutely. Fuck, this time next year we could have a kid. You’d be pregnant for most of next year. Round and gorgeous.” He groans, watching your tits as you reach between you to grip his cock. “You need me to stretch that pussy out first?” He asks, caressing your hips.

“No.” You’re a little breathless, imagining that for real even though you know this is just role play. You two are not together and that is way too much responsibility for right now. “I want it to pinch.” You lift your hips up and notch him at your entrance. “I want to feel it sting.”

He hisses at your words, cock twitching in your grip, and he watches your face as you start to sink down onto his cock. “Fuck baby. Your cunt is so tight.” He closes his eyes for just a second before opening them so he can watch you. “Ride my cock. Make me fill you up so it takes.” He orders, his hands squeezing your ass once you’re fully seated on his length.

You whine softly at his words, grinding down and enjoying the way it feels like he’s deep in your guts. “Going to.” You promise, bracing your hands on the sides of the tub as you start to lift yourself off of him. “Gonna cum all over your cock first.”

Dieter groans, leaning forward to take one of your nipples into his mouth with his hands sliding up your back until one hand is squeezing your tit that his mouth isn’t attached to. “Gonna drink milk from these.” He tells you with a groan, “gonna - gonna watch them swell with milk.”

It’s embarrassing how sexy that sounds and you moan loudly. Biting your lip and tangling your fingers into his hair while you start to bounce on his cock. Every time his teeth scrap your nipple, your walls clench around him. “Yeah? You want to- to have me as your milk cow? Have fresh milk from- from the source?”

“Fuckkkkkk yessssss.” He hisses, “want to drink from you. Suck on your tits.” He thrusts up into you, making the water splash and he switches to your other breast, moaning at the feel of your tight cunt around his cock.

“Bad boy.” You gasp out, head tilted back in pleasure. “You- you’re supposed to let me ride you.” You remind him, even though you don’t mind it at all. It’s fun, this teasing and light banter during sex. A complete change up from normal sexual encounters.

Dieter loves you calling him a bad boy. “Damn. I know. I’ll be good.” He promises, “I’ll be a good boy for you, baby.” He vows, keeping his hips still as he kisses along your chest and neck.

You chuckle quietly, loving how desperate he kisses you and how he sounds. The thick drag of his cock inside you feels even better without the protective latex and you gasp loudly when he twitches inside you. “Oh fuck baby, look at that big dick inside me, feels so good. Only you can feel this good inside me. That big dick’s gonna fill me up, huh?”

“Fuck me.” Dieter groans at your dirty words, “fuck you are so good. So damn good to me. Feel incredible. Shit. This tight pussy feels so good without latex. So tight, hot and wet. Unbelievable. So Damn good. Want you to cum for me.”

“I’m going to, baby. Gonna scream so loud that the neighbors will hear.” Water is sloshing onto the floor but you don’t care, chasing that extreme rush that you get when you cum. Lifting yourself up to slam back down on his cock like you are riding a bucking Bronco. “Fuck baby, gonna cum!” You squeal.

Dieter watches you, your tits bouncing, and he is groaning your name. “Do it. Cum for me. Cum for me baby girl.” He demands, reaching between you to rub your clit.

Throwing yourself forward, your lips slot against his desperately while you come apart. Moaning his name against his mouth as your walls clamp down on his cock and the harsh bouncing turns into desperate grinding.

Working you through it with his hand trapped between you, and he kisses you. Tongue sliding against yours and he’s not ready to cum yet. He waits until you have stopped shaking and he caresses your back, “good baby?”

“Yes.” You whisper, closing your eyes and smiling against his lips. “God, I don’t see how you are single.” You are so drunk on pleasure, you don’t even have a filter. “I’d refuse to let go of this if I had it. Not the money or whatever, but the sex. The way you make me feel.”

“Jesus. Me too. You feel so good. How - how are you single? You’re incredible. Perfect fucking wifey. Beautiful, sexy, kind. Cooks - cooks a mean fucking breakfast. Pussy tastes amazing. Jesus, those assholes who couldn’t accept your job are fools. You’re amazing.” He is also drunk on pleasure and he hasn’t even cum yet.

It almost hurts to start moving again, the head of his cock speared up against the most wonderful little spot inside you that there is a rush of liquid coating him when you move. “Shit!” You gasp out, eyes wide and you freeze, sure that he will think you just peed on him.

“Did you - shit - did you just squirt?” He asks, eyes wide and his cock twitches inside of you. “Fuck baby. Tell me.” He demands, his voice raspy as he leans back to look at you.

“I-I-“ you shake your head, unsure of yourself since you’ve never done that before. “I think? I didn’t- I know I didn’t pee.” You promise, feeling your face flame up, despite the fact that he is wide eyed. You aren’t sure of what he will say.

“Fuck thats so hot. Let’s try it again.” He grabs your hips, rocking you in his cock. “Tell me when we find it again.” He orders, thrusting up into you in different angles until you cry out his name.

It’s so sexy that he likes that. “Never- never don’t that before.” You gasp out, clinging to him as he frantically tries to recreate that moment. “Just with you, baby.”

He fucking loves hearing that, keeping his cock pressing against that spot again and again as he rocks you on his cock. “Want you to cum like that again. Want you to soak my cock, squirt on it, want you to squeeze it. Can you do that for me baby?”

“Yes.” You moan, leaning back and whine in pleasure when his tongue slides around your nipple again before he sucks it into his mouth. “Fuck, do anything for you, just keep touching me.”

Dieter doesn’t stop, keeping his tongue on your nipple, flicking over and over again and he thrusts up into you, desperate for you to cum again, to squirt again.

When he hits that spot again, the twist of pleasure makes you scream. Soaking him again while your thighs spasm around his hips and your walls squeeze his cock so hard you swear your will hurt him.

Groaning as you squeeze his cock hard, soaking him, and he throws his head back at the way you grip his cock. “Holy fucking shit. That’s so hot.” He gasps out, rocking up into you as much as he can and he hisses as he cums, unable to stop himself as he fills you up with his seed.

Now you feel it. The flood of warmth from his cum filling you and making you whine as he pumps you full. “Oh fuck, oh fuck Dieter.” You stroke his chest and collapse against it, kissing his neck softly.

“God, I hope it takes.” Dieter murmurs, stroking your back as you lean against him. His cock twitches inside of you as he rides out his orgasm, lost in the haze of pleasure as you slump against him. “Fuck, I want it to take.”

It’s just role play. You remind yourself of that as you kiss his jaw up to his lips again. He is just feeding into the fantasy of this weekend. Sighing softly, you smirk as you lean back. “That was an even better Christmas present than my bracelet.”

Dieter chuckles, “yeah? My cock beats a Cartier bracelet?” He is pleased and amused to hear that. “You being here is the best Christmas present I’ve ever had.” He tells you, swallowing harshly and he dreads the moment you leave his house. He doesn’t care about the money, he cares about being alone again, about being lonely without you here. “Stay. Stay until the new year. I’ll triple the money.” He offers.

Your eyes nearly pop out of your head, they get so wide and you immediately shake your head. “No- Dieter, I can’t- holy shit.” You whisper. “I can’t take sixty thousand dollars from you.” You blow out a small sigh. “I- I can’t even take the other ten thousand.”

Dieter frowns, leaning back from you. “Why not?” He is hurt, upset that you don’t want to stay with him, even for the money. Have you truly hated being with him? Have you really despised him that much? Are you a better actor than him? All those insecurities threaten to drown him and he pushes you off of him, his cock falling from inside of you. “Fine. You don’t have to stay. You can leave now if you want.” He offers coolly, stepping out of the bath and he doesn’t even grab a towel as he walks into his bedroom to grab some clothes. He needs to get out of here, he can’t be around you if you’re just gonna leave him like everyone else.

You stare at the empty door for a moment, thoroughly confused by what the hell just happened. You were trying to tell him that you didn’t want money for spending time with him. You really loved being with him just because. Confused, you stand up and let the water out of the tub and wrap an oversized towel around your body before you leave to find Dieter.

Dieter is pulling on sweatpants when you enter the bedroom, making him freeze. “I’m going out. You can get your stuff and go. I’ll wire the money. I won’t break my word.” He promises you as he pulls on a t-shirt, his heart breaking that you want to leave.

“Dieter stop, please stop.” You reach out and touch his arm but he just jerks away from you like you disgust him. “Fine.” He obviously doesn’t want to talk. “I’ll leave, but I don’t want your fucking money.” You spit. “I’m going to wire the ten thousand back to you. I’ve done nothing to deserve it. Especially when I’ve loved every second of being here.” You turn around and walk out of his bedroom, biting your lip to keep from crying as you hurry down to the room he had set up for you.

Dieter pauses when you hurry down the hall and he frowns, wondering what you mean by that. Wanting to find out, he stomps down the hall and slams your door open. “What the fuck do you mean? You hated being here? That’s why you won’t stay, why you won’t take the money.” He explains what he is thinking and he hates how his eyes prick with tears of betrayal.

“What?” You’ve managed to get your leggings and bra on, tears on your cheeks obvious and you shake your head. “What are you talking about? I can’t take your money because it would be wrong. I am not letting you pay me sixty thousand dollars for doing something I would do for free.”

“Why the fuck would you do it for free? No one wants to be around me for nothing. No one wants me for me. I know it’s the money. Everyone wants a piece of me. I want to pay you to spend time with me. I don’t want you to leave. No one has ever made me feel like you do. I don’t even want you to go but I know you’ll get tired of me like everyone else does.” Dieter rages.

Your heart completely breaks for him, the defiant and confused expression on his face reminds you of a puppy who is left behind at a kennel, overlooked by potential families. Fuck, you always said you wouldn’t take on a fix’er upper and here you are. You shake your head and take a step closer, “Dieter, I don’t want your money. I promise you. I don’t want a piece of you, I just want to spend time with you.”

“Why?” Dieter chokes, a tear escaping his eye and he stubbornly wipes the tear from his cheek. “Why would - no one wants to just spend time with me. I’m not easy to deal with.”

“No you’re not.” You scoff. “You have not been rude or demanding once. You’ve asked permission to do anything and you are so grateful for anything that I do for you. That’s not difficult.” You step up to him and caress his cheek. “Could you be difficult? Sure, but so can I. I think you being in that club was the best thing that’s happened to me in a long time.”

Dieter melts under your touch, “are you - seriously?” He asks and you nod, smiling at you. “I think you’re the best thing that’s happened to me in - in my entire life. I don’t want to give you up. I know you’re not mine but I want to see what happens. I just - you’re so beautiful and kind and you make me feel like a normal person, you make me feel like a normal man, not just an actor. I could easily fall in love with you.”

“Dieter, I wasn’t telling you that I didn’t want to stay.” You promise him. “I just don’t want you to pay me. I’ll stay here with you until the New Year like you want. I have to work but I will come back here after? If that’s okay?”

Dieter reaches out to cup your cheeks, “you want to stay?” He asks and you nod. He grins, unable to believe that you want to stay with him. “I don’t want you to go. You can work - I wouldn’t stop that - but I don’t want you to leave me. I don’t mind paying you but I want you to know that I haven’t felt like this before.”

“Are you- are you asking me to move in?” You ask, confused by what exactly he is wanting. Does he want you to stay for another week or forever? “I just want you to clarify.”

Dieter is confused by his own feelings, knowing that he is asking a lot of you. “I want you to stay until the New Year and if you want to stay, I’d like you to move in. I - I want to explore this - us - without the outside world ruining it. My fans, the internet…I want us to figure it out before I expose you to that bullshit. I think I could fall for you so stay…don’t go.” He pleads.

You bite your lip, frowning slightly. “You know that it will come out that I am a cocktail waitress at a strip club.” You feel that it’s only right to warn him but Dieter just scoffs and rolls his eyes. 

“Yeah and I’ll tell them that’s where I met you.” 

You don’t know if you would want him to do that, but you do want to stay. “I’ll stay. We’ll figure out what we want to do. Together.”

Dieter surges forward to press his lips to yours, so pleased you are staying until the new year and you’re going to stay so you can figure out what you feel for each other. “Together.” He murmurs against your mouth. “Merry Christmas baby.” He sighs, pulling you close and he knows this has been the best Christmas he’s ever had. He knows that he’ll likely be in love with you by the new year and he desperately wants you to stay with him, be in his life. 

“Merry Christmas.” You tell him and he smiles, “best Christmas ever.”

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