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minhosimthings · 8 days

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Elysian || 18+

Synopsis: you never wanted to fall for the only son of the family yours hated. And yet you did.

Pairings: Mafia boss!Hyunjin × fem!reader

Warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI 18+, mentions of dagger, kind of knife play?, P in v sex, fingering, angst, fluff, forbiddened love, mafia boss au, mention of poison, blood, food and alcohol, reader wears a dress, implied mental abuse, fluffy at the end but it's really angsty in the middle sorry yall

A/N: ahhh this took a lot of time to write because I wanted everything to be PERFECT. and in my opinion this is the best shit I've ever written Mona 2am brain go burr. Also this is dedicated to my beloved @astraystayyh and Hyunjin's photoshoots which have made me go feral approximately 143 times

Red.

You remembered it as a hibiscus, decorating the gardens of your family's estate as child. You remembered it as the ugly hue of your grandmother's rug, the only thing you'd fixate on whenever the stench of blood filled your nose. You remembered it as your family's emblem, in a kingdom of money and roses and whatnot. You remembered red as death.

But you never thought you would have remembered red as the colour which outlined the shadows of the painting in front you.

You never though red would remind you of one of your most favourite persons ever, of his plump pink lips and gorgeous waterfall of hair you would decorate with rose petals anyday.

You never thought red would remind you of Hwang Hyunjin.

Red, as the multifaceted colour it is, fascinated you. It was like an idea in your head, hard to drive out, impossible to kill. What was red truly? What shades did it hide?

Red as a ladybug or red as a lobster? Red as a tulip or red as red as a new bride's cheeks? Red as lipstick or red as a gown? Red as roses or red as blood?

Red as the dominating colour of Hyunjin's palette was the correct answer to you most of the time.

You could recall the first time you had ever met him. Five months ago or had it been a year? You didn't remember much, just the fact that Hwang Hyunjin saved you, the 'enemy' from a bullet wound when he could have let you rot and made his family proud. The Hwangs were nefarious for their merciless behaviour, and yet you found in Hyunjin, a different kind of warmer mercy.

A mercy which you preferred because no one else gave it to you.

And that was how you found comfort in Hyunjin, a sense of familiarity that made you believe that you could be your true self with him and not just another painted version of you. Granted, he did paint you, in various shades of golds, violets and reds.

Painstaking as they were, you loved your short lived secret sessions with him. He was like a thief, quietly sneaking in through a window, and stealing away your heart with his demeanor.

Both of you came from families who despised each other, there was a certain Romeo-Juliet element to it all that both amused and frightened you.

But no matter what thing troubled you, you always had your memories with him to come back to. Especially those soft tender moments when you realised how much you craved a normal life away from the money and the blood.

You remembered one moment better than most others. It was the first time you said the poisonous word. It was that time in Italy...or was it Belgium? All you seemed to actually recall was the time you first walked into the love which Hyunjin gave you.

Dark chocolate eyes flickered over your naked body as it sunk beneath warm water, a bottle of liquid soap shone a bit in the candlelight as Hyunjin poured it into your tub. His ethereal figure was like a God in the pale moonlight coming from the tiny window.

“Just a little something extra to provide you some… relief,” he smiled, dipping his elegant hand into the waters to stir it around.

Hyunjin knew you were an assassin, carefully molded into one by your family, nevertheless he saw more than what he was supposed to. He saw you as a human instead. A human who was tired of all the blood she had spilt.

Your body easing into the water, you barely noticed the ripples of Hyunjin slipping his carved body beside you. It barely registered, his arm wrapping around you, the warm water pouring down your neck to rinse off the blood, the trickles that run down your face as he wets your hair and washed it clean of sweat and more.

You couldn't remember the last time you had felt like this, so relaxed so taken care of. So you said it, you said the word without a moment's waste.

"I love you" you had blurted out without a second thought, "I love you, Hwang Hyunjin." The name mattered to you in ways you hadn't ever fathomed before.

And the worst thing was he said it back. With a kiss to imprint it.

And now here you were, eyes flickering between the ceiling and each other. The warm light of the massive ballroom shone its glory onto you as you clutched your champagne tight to your bosom, making sure to distract yourself with it, whenever your stolen glances at Hyunjin were caught by someone.

You hadn't been forced to attend the ball by any means by your family, in fact you volunteered for it. You had waited eagerly for your target's name, your mother stressed that it was an important one, and as the quietest daughter it would have been easy for you to kill in plain sight and prove once and for all to your father that you were ready to take over as the heir to his 'buisness'. Maybe you'd finally have the fame and the power you craved off as a child, like some starved deer eating its own kind.

But now, you clutched the tiny vile of hemlock close to your hip, carefully dropping it into your pocket, all the while staring at Hyunjin across the room, who was laughing with someone you recognised as a painter Hyunjin adored. His raucous yet polite laughter, gorgeous strands of hair framing his face, your heart sobbed at the thought of slipping poison into his veins.

If you had even a modicum of respect for your own head, maybe you would have sneaked the hemlock into his drink at the slightest moment. Unfortunately though, you didn't and so it came to be that you resorted to dissecting a serene painting until hopefully Hyunjin ultimately noticed you.

The painting fascinated you, it was one you hadn't ever seen before. Dark blue traced the outlines two people, with grey hair and wisened foreheads, holding hands through a rough brown canvas. You smiled at the painting before taking a sip of your champagne. Love, eternally, was one of Hyunjin's most beloved topics to waste all his blue paint on.

Words rushed through your mind as your eyes traced each brushstroke. Whips of harsh sentences and scenes of conversations, contrasting the soft daubs of paint, flashed in front of your eyes.

'The Parks? Mum I can't do that!'

'You want to be useful to this family? Marry him and you'll be more than useful'

'But Mum...!'

'You think you have a say in this? Shut up and do what's good for that useless head of yours'

"Admiring my work, my love?"

You flinched slightly at the different voice, which sounded like spring rain and lily pads. Spinning on your heel to face the source of the voice, you found yourself melting into a pair of beautiful eyes, the kind of eyes that made thieves wonder why they ever bothered to steal pieces of art. His eyes—the color of an intoxicating champagne—beckoned you over with nothing more than a warm smile.

"What?" Hyunjin chuckled, seeing you stare at him, "Did I get fondue on my lips again?"

"No, just..." You trailed off, not finding the correct words, "You look good."

"As you do, my sweet." Hyunjin's hand took yours and brought it up to his lips, "God, I wish I could paint you right here."

"Hyunjin," you gave him a playful look, unsure of whether or not it was hiding your fright, what if someone saw?

Hyunjin's arms went to your waist, pulling you closer to him, which felt like syrup wafting through the air, sweet with a touch of familiarity. He leaned in, you felt his hot breath on your neck as he whispered, "None of your family or their spies are here don't worry."

You took in a shaky breath, as you felt his long, dainty fingers reaching up your thigh, fiddling with something strapped tightly to it. Hyunjin smiled into your neck, as he continued to fiddle with the leather.

"That's how they plan to kill me?" He chuckled, "With a dagger strapped to the ravishing thigh of the love of my life?"

"That's just Plan B." You whispered, shoving his hand off gently, as your eye caught a waiter in the corner glancing at you and Hyunjin, "Just in case the hemlock doesn't work."

"Willing to test that theory?" Hyunjin stepped away from you, leaving your body colder than you wished. His cocky smile, his raised brow and relaxed demeanour, he was like a like a cat lounging in a garden, at peace with watching the world pass on.

"In front of everyone?" You questioned, "don't tell me the only son of the Hwangs is becoming soft for someone like me."

Hyunjin's mouth stretched lazily as he grinned at you, extending a hand for you to take.

"Let's go somewhere private?" He asked, not giving you time to answer as he basically dragged you across the hall, where magnificent stairs led to the upper floors of the luxurious mansion. Gossiping eyes followed your movements, well, more precisely, Hyunjin's movements, as he led you up the stairs, making sure not to step on your tartine dress, as you carried the fabric behind you with regal grace.

"Now," Hyunjin smirked as you climbed onto the last step, now well hidden from the party downstairs, "Shall we?" And he broke into a run, dragging you behind him, giggling maniacally like a child in the summer. You were sure you heard your dress rip, but you had not a care as you ran with Hyunjin down the corridor, to the last door, his bedroom. The walls of the corridors were lined with paintings, Hyunjin's evidently, fading edges of canvases standing out against the ruby of the wall paint and the carpeted floor. You recognised each and every painting. A painting of a woman amongst daffodils, another of the same woman in an abandoned mansion which Hyunjin had always told you would be that women's one day. The day he married that woman to be specific.

'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his family when they asked him who she was. 'The woman in my dreams', Hyunjin told his patrons when they asked who she was. 'You', Hyunjin told you when you asked, though you knew, but you still questioned him, in between chaste kisses on the neck and giggles. Hyunjin came to a halt in front of the oak carved door, a tiny metal label on top spelling his name in cursive letters.

"How about we put that dagger to use then?" Hyunjin pressed your back against the door in no time, devouring your being as he tasted the honey of your elysian lips. His hands went again, to your thigh, fumbling to take the dagger out, but you were quicker in your actions. Your hand had been resting on the door's handle, and as you tugged on it, both of you fell back into the room, lips never wanting to leave each other's company.

"Jinnie," you made a sound of pleasure as you pulled away from him, suddenly aware of the audible music coming from downstairs, "Maybe not now."

"Come now love," Hyunjin laughed, striding into the room, where painting supplies lay cluttered next to a pristinely made bed, "Don't say that after we escaped from the prying eyes of everyone downstairs."

"Hyunjin," you looked at him with reprimanding eyes, how could you tell him the actual reason? "Don't you think it'd be suspicious to my family if I return today with messed up hair and a torn silken dress after merely slipping poison into someone's champagne?" How could you tell him to make you stop falling more for him? "This shit is expensive you know."

"Would it not be more dangerous if you were to return without killing the Hwang family's brightest hope?" Hyunjin's voice, though low, spoke it's volume, as he removed his coat, throwing it onto an empty chair.

Locked in a gaze that spoke volumes, you inched toward Hyunjin, a silent plea lingering in the air. As your fingers tightened around his hair, a palpable tension filled the space between you.

His ethereal eyes held yours, revealing a tumult of unspoken struggles and desires. Your gaze shifted to his lips—slightly chapped yet irresistibly inviting.

Without even a moment of hesitation, you kissed him.

Hyunjin's initial surprise melted into a shared passion, and for a moment, the world around you faded. His arms encircled you, pulling you close as if trying to etch the moment into his memory. As the intensity deepened, you let go of his soft hair, your hands finding their way to his jaw, pulling him even closer.

He tasted your soft lips and felt your warm skin. He pulled away slightly, breath mingling with yours, lips lingering, an anguished pause in the silent night.

"so pretty..." he mutters, taking in the sight of your body.

Hyunjin's lips attach to your skin, leaving deep marks of love all over which wouldn't go away for days now. You stifled your moan, as his lips sucked on your collarbone, you could feel his erection pressing through his pants to your core, making you accidentally whimper.

Hyunjin's ringed hands made their way up your right thigh, the slit in your dress allowing him to caress the soft skin, the cold metal of the ruby created dagger hitting his skin like soft cotton to a wound.

He couldn't explain how attractive it was to him, the carved golden hilt, the blood red jewel in the centre, and the carefully shaped blade of the dagger, decorating his most favourite muse. You were a painting come to life for him.

You were his painting, his magnum opus, a canvas as precious as an angel's wing.

Your mind, on the other hand, was racing at a hundred miles per the hour. How could you tell him? How could you tell him the truth he'd always known? That your love was one the stars crossed each other to find?

You draw him into another uncertain kiss, this one your confused mind didn't think much about, and trailed a hand up the smooth skin of his exposed chest. Hyunjin signs into your mouth and runs both his hands down your sides, pausing to squeeze your thigh, and the cold blade pressed against your skin again.

“My love, that was by far one of the most sexy things I’ve ever seen.” Voice low and seductive, your lips barely pulling away from him. "I really can't believe you chose this one out of all. You know it's my gift don't you?"

"Hyunjin..." You trailed off, impatiently pulling away from his lips, "we shouldn't, we really shouldn't."

"Why not love?" Hyunjin's lips pressed against yours again morphing into a gentler kiss, he was evidently trying to calm you down.

"Hyunjin please don't." You begged with him, as if you were begging for your mind to stop itself before you went too far. You had to stop falling for him before it was too late. And yet how could you?

"Princess-" Hyunjin began before looking at you with worried eyes, "You're scaring me what's wrong? You can talk to me."

"What's wrong is we shouldn't be doing this." You tried to feign disgust, but all that came out was pathetic love for Hyunjin, 'Don't let me fall in love again' was what you had meant to say.

"Princess—"

"No!" You all as but screamed, forgetting that you were currently above a party filled with guns and roses, Hyunjin stood shocked in front of you at your sudden outburst, the air around you stilled, as words came out like vomit.

"listen, I am to get married to the Park family's eldest son, and if anyone, anyone, finds out about this," you stopped and took in a breath, "we're dead, Hyunjin, both of us! Or worse shit I can't even fathom to think about!" You took a breath at every word, stressing each note like a violin's vibrato, "And I'd really fucking take this poison myself rather than living in a world where everything tries to stop us from being together. So, please Hyunjin," your eyes held whispers of pained love, "Don't let me fall into this depth of love, because I just know I can never climb out."

The silence that overtook the room was heavy, heavier than you would have liked. You could have endured bullet heads, burn marks, fractures, but this was the greatest wound of all. The greatest pain you'd endured was the one you had always been deprived of.

Love, had it always been such a sin?

Your head felt dizzy as you say down on the bed, letting the soft material of the cover sink in. The dagger round your thigh and the air round your being felt tighter. You felt as if you could have drawn oceans of blood at that moment.

"Love," his voice echoed through your entire being, "look at me.

Your head turned to look up at him, as his hands quickly straddled you onto his lap, one of them squeezing your right thigh, eliciting a quiet moan out of you.

You saw it in his eyes. Felt it in his touch. The ethereal, devilish angel, Hwang Hyunjin had been loafing around on this earth long enough to know how to claim what was his. When his hips knocked yours to lay you flat on the bed, you already knew what was coming next.

"Hyunjin I-"

"I don't care what or who comes in our way. You, my dearest, are mine, and mine alone." Hyunjin growled into your ear, his anger would never seep through to you but on certain occasions it would certainly scare you, the way his anger was cold as an icicle, rather than fiery like a volcano.

A groan rumbles through Hyunjin's chest, and he dips down to give a playful bite to your bottom lip, earning a squeak you will deny if asked about later.

One of his hands moves down to delicately play with your breast, kneading softly before pinching your nipple between his finger and thumb. You break the kiss with a breathless gasp, tugging at Hyunjin’s roots, forcing a ragged groan from him. Hyunjin wastes no time to pepper kisses down the column of your neck. He pushed the hair out of his eyes before he grabbed you by the waist and rubbed his cock up against you. He could feel heat settle in his body as his cock throbbed for you. He wanted you, he needed you more than he needed air. And he was more than willing to let you know that.

Stripping off your clothes and throwing it to the side, Hyunjin climbed up the bed and grabbed your hand on the way, hauling you under him. He wasted no time in lining himself up with you, throwing his head back in a groan as your pussy enveloped him.

Hyunjin groaned through grit teeth as he pushed his cock into you. You tensed and he groaned louder, he held onto the bed under you and moved all the way inside of you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders and held him tightly as he started to thrust. You moaned into his skin as he moved against you.

His mouth went to your neck, leaving dark scars there. His teeth hit the ruby of your necklace, as he took it in his mouth and tugged at it, making you gasp loudly.

Your body felt numb but in a pleasurable way. You could only lie there and accept all the pleasure that he was giving you. He kissed your soft face, he could feel your racing heartbeat under your skin. His face went back to your neck where he left more bruises on the flesh. He felt heat through his body as the pleasure coursed through his veins. It was arousing, he couldn’t deny what he was feeling.

"You're mine." Hyunjin growled through a symphony of soft sighs, "I will never let anything get in between us, alright?"

The only response he got was a pleasured moan escaping from your lips, but he took it. He took pride in the way he could make you feel like this.

Your head fills with pleasures, not a single thought could form in your head. “Fuck you feel so good doll” he groans holding your hips down and slamming deeper inside you. “G-god Hyunjin! Feels…s-so good!” You cry.

Your eyes begin to roll back feeling how good he felt. His tip hitting your G-spot making you ready to cum just as fast as before. “H-Hyune fuck I’m gonna c-“ you are interrupted by his hand gripping your throat, choking you.

“Fuck baby you got wetter just from that… god you're so good” his mixture of degradation and praise had your body a dripping, desperate mess. You couldn’t believe the hold he had over you.

His breathing is labored when he pulls his hips back and thrusts in, he goes slow at first, treating you like you were a fragile statue made from porcelain, but then you’re begging him to go faster, to go harder. His tongue swipes along the roof of his mouth before he speaks, “are you sure, doll? i don’t— fuck— want to hurt you.”

“h-hurt me, it’s okay,” you mumble out, and he truly does hesitate for a second, then his thrusts are suddenly faster, bumping you into the bed with the sheer snap of his hips. Your cries sound like noises formed from a blessed harp, passed down by the gods for him to listen to, each moan getting louder and louder until his ears are ringing, until the music sounds hushed compared to your screams.

He felt you trembling hard, pulsing around his cock as you got close to cumming. He works himself deeper inside you, stroking all the places you need to reach that high point. A few more thrusts and you burst. You gush around him with a long whine.

You squirm and buck as he holds you in place and keeps rutting into you until it becomes too much for him. He also lets loose and shoots his cum inside you. He fucks it into you a bit, before slowly pulling out.

Slightly panting and out of breath, Hyunjin's figure could be seen gracefully outlined by the moon's tears penetrating through the tall, stained windows. He gets up and fetches a towel, gently cleaning you up as your eyes flickered between sleep and consciousness.

"Are you alright, love?" He questioned you, his fingers tracing shapes on your hips as he layed down beside you again, clearly not in the mood for wearing his clothes. Neither were you, so you turned your body towards him, allowing him to wrap you into the cocoon of his warm muscles. Laying your head on his chest, you felt his hand, once again, reaching for your thigh.

"You really do like that dagger don't you?" You laughed, as he caressed the metal.

"You should wear it more often, maybe for a painting?" Hyunjin's suggested, a smile like the air after rain, fresh with the stench of earth and dew, imprinted on his face.

"Hyunjin I-", you began, taking a breath before continuing, "What about—about my family?"

You swore you could have heard Hyunjin gently scoff, but you ignored it as he brought you closer to him, the space in between you practically empty.

"Stay here for tonight." Hyunjin said, "and if they come in search of their 'beloved' daughter," he scoffed once again, muttering a curse underneath his breath, "I'll tell them I stole her away from her tower."

"More like stole her dagger away." You giggled, finding his obsession with the strap on your thigh amusing. Hyunjin merely smiled at that, and silence fell again.

"Y/N?"

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Red wasn't that bad of a colour after all. Not when it reminded you of Hyunjin, not when it reminded you of secret kisses and poisoned paintings, and certainly not when it reminded you of love.

"I love you too, Hyunjin."

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auteurdelabre · 1 month

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

rating: 18+

tags: SMUT. Penetration, Oral (m and f receiving), use of 'daddy' (but you ain't into it), use of 'baby', Dieter being Dieter, fluff, like such tooth-rotting sweetness its almost gross, idiots in love, pregnancy, talk of pregnancy body changes/self esteem, love love love, family issues, mentions of parental death.

a/n: Tumblr is dumb and won't let me post the entire chapter. ARGH. So below is part one.

series masterlist

You stir early the next morning, feeling strangely warm. You blink slowly awake, starting when you see realize you're not alone in the bed. Someone is behind you.

You glance over your shoulder to see Dieter wearing his sleep mask over his eyes, one that says "#passedout”. Something he got in a gift back from some airline launch. His arm is draped over your midsection, his gentle snores stirring the hair at your neck. He’s still partially dressed in his clothes.

A mixture of joy and confusion overruns your body. You feel your son flutter under Dieters’ palm splayed protectively over your midsection.

"Dieter? Are you awake?"

He doesn't reply right away and you don't press it. He must have gotten in pretty late judging by the state of him. Odds are he's exhausted and you want him to catch up on his rest. Something must have happened with Mia to have him jetting home all of a sudden.

You consider slipping out of the bed, but the feeling of Dieter's body curled around yours makes you feel so cared for. His cologne and the scent of faded cigarettes surround you and while it should repulse you, there’s something about it that soothes you. You settle in, snuggling back against him and dozing lightly.

Not long after Dieter begins to stir, his squinting eyes blurry and taking in your figure still in his embrace.

"Morning baby," he murmurs, voice deep with sleep. Without thought he presses a kiss to your bare shoulder. "Sleep okay?"

You stir groggily, stretching. You want to be gentle right back to him but you don't understand why he's home all of a sudden. You're worried something happened.

"Dieter what are you doing here? What happened to Germany? Is Mia okay?"

"Mia's fine," he assures you.

"Then why are you home?"

"I realized I didn’t really wanna go to Germany," Dieter says simply, as if the answer were obvious. "I’ve been travelling so much this year and I just wanted to sleep in my own bed. Funny to find you in it."

“Sorry,” you say sheepishly. “I was gonna change the sheets before you got back. Your bed is just so much comfier.”

“Don’t I know it,” Dieter grins. You go to get up, but still when his arm remains draped over your waist. “Relax. You can stay.”

“I shouldn’t,” you say quietly.

Mia.

“You should,” Dieter insists, “especially since I brought you back a gift.”

You twist up into a seated position in the bed, your hair wild and your eyes sleepy. Dieter thinks he can see your nipples through your sleep shirt and he does everything in his power not to touch them.

He pushes himself out of the bed, padding out to his suitcase and returning moments later. You take in his mussed hair and full mouth and try very hard not to imagine how both would feel under your fingertips.

"For your birthday," he tells you handing you the small box before crawling back under the covers, sitting next to you. He sees the goosebumps breaking out over your bare legs and he throws the comforter over you, pressing your sleep warmed body against his.

You’re still staring at the box.

"I got it before I left,” Dieter prompts, holding back a yawn. “It’s from Prague.”

“You didn’t have to get me anything.”

He gives you a look before rolling his eyes. “Just open it.”

You do, feeling your breath leave you when you see the simple but gorgeous tennis bracelet resting inside. Brilliant diamonds are encrusted over the intricate design, offset by a delicate lobster clasp.

"Jesus Dieter," you breathe holding the bracelet up to the light and watching it sparkle. "It's stunning."

"Least I could do for my baby mama," Dieter says, trying to hide the pleased grin from his face.

"This must have cost a fortune."

Dieter shrugs. He hates talking about money so you don't press it. You consider telling him you can’t accept it, but he looks so delighted with your awe that you can’t help but give a breathless giggle as you thrust it at him.

"Can you help me put it on?"

"Now?"

"Yeah now," you say holding you wrist out to him.

"This isn't the sort of thing you wear all the time," Dieter tells you as his wide fingers struggle with the delicate clasp.

"This is the nicest piece of jewelry I'll ever own," you state firmly. "I'm gonna wear it every fucking day, not hide it away in some box and only take it out on holidays. Beautiful things like this are meant to be enjoyed."

Dieter hums a response, fingers ghosting over your wrist as he secures the lobster clasp. His fingers linger on your wrist, tracing the soft skin there. He feels his chest grow warm when he sees the smile on your face as you twist your wrist to see the bracelet from all angles.

“Thank you so much," you say, smile so wide you feel like it'll split your face. "I love it."

“You’re welcome,” he murmurs, a hand coming to cup your cheek before he can stop himself. You lean into his touch, eyes unfocussed before you seem to snap back to yourself. You pull back, eyes on your lap.

“Wasn’t Mia upset you left?”

“At first,” Dieter shrugs, snatching his hand back. He tells you that he told Mia he had to do some last minute interview back here that he forgot about. That he would join her in a few days..

But that’s not the truth.

As soon as you hung up on him all Dieter could think of was that you were here alone on your birthday and he couldn’t get back here to you soon enough.

Mia had seen it so clearly in the anxious way he got his belongings together, the way he was already scrambling out of line and telling her he was leaving. Before he could kiss her cheek and slide by her, Mia had taken his hand in hers stopping him.

"Dee, this is ridiculous.”

"What?"

"You just got off the phone with your PA and you're beside yourself."

"It's just the baby," Dieter lied. "I'm concerned."

Mia suddenly looked anxious. "Is she hurt? Is the baby hurt?"

"No not like that, it's just it's her birthday and I wrote the fucking date down wrong and it's her first birthday alone without her dad and I should be there you know? I just... She's pretending that she's fine but I can hear it in her voice. She's upset."

Mia had a strange look on her face as she watched her boyfriend card his hands anxiously through his tousled hair.

"That has nothing to do with the baby, Dee."

Dieter flushed, wishing he had something to take the edge off. He looked at Mia with a wince, seeing the wisdom in her light eyes.

"Dieter, it's so obvious you're in love with her."

Dieter swallowed and Mia watched as he absently picked at a loose thread on his sweater. His soulful eyes darted back to her face, emotional.

"Mia, I wasn't lying about how I feel about you."

"I believe you," Mia nodded, giving him a sympathetic look. "Really, I do. But I'm no one's second choice.”

"You weren't a second choice," Dieter insisted honestly. "I really like you."

"Is that why we haven't slept together yet?"

Dieter couldn’t meet her eyes. "I didn't want to rush things like I usually do."

Mia gave him a stern look, her hand squeezing his.

"Dee."

How could he explain that it didn't feel right going to bed with Mia knowing that you were somewhere in the world without him? How could he explain to his girlfriend that being with her felt like cheating on you even though you’d made no attempt at reciprocating his romantic overtures?

"She doesn't feel the same as me," Dieter finally admitted, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. He felt pathetic saying it out loud.

"Even if she doesn't Dieter, it doesn't stop how you feel about her." Mia swallowed. "Be honest, right now if you could be anywhere, where would it be? Here with me going on a romantic vacation? Or back in LA with her?"

Dieter couldn’t even blink before he was assaulted with the image of you snuggled up against him on the couch at home. Your head nestled against his chest, the sensation of your warm body pressing against his.

Mia could already see that he was a million miles away as he considered this. The twitch in his hands as he reached for his phone told her everything she needed to know. Dieter finally focused back on Mia and his large eyes were glossy.

"I need to go."

"I know."

Dieter paused, eyes going owlish in his face. "Do you hate me?"

"Not at all." Mia gave him a genuine smile. "You were a wonderful boyfriend in so many ways. You never pressured me to do anything, you were supportive, and you were caring. That's how I know you'll be a great dad."

Dieter felt tears prick the back of his eyes. He gathered her into a tight hug, his chin on her shoulder. Mia shot him one of her cryptic smiles before kissing his cheek gently.

“I had a really nice time with you, Dee. Hopefully we work together again soon. And if I can be honest, I think she’s awesome. And contrary to what she says, I think she’s the one that brings out the best in you.”

And then she was gone. Heading back into the line loading onto the plane as people shyly came up to ask for her autograph. The last thing Dieter remembers is the soft smile and wave she threw him before he was running out of the airport.

Home to you.

And now you’re here in his arms and he knows he made the right decision. Even if this is all it ever is; you in his orbit, nearby. You look at the bracelet a moment longer before your eyes are back on his face.

"Did you come back because of my birthday, Dieter?"

Dieter feels his heart begin to pick up the pace as he stares back at you.

"And what if I told you that I did?

You say nothing at first, but your eyes go soft.

“I would say I’m really touched,” you finally murmur. “And I would say that this is all I wanted for my birthday.”

“A bracelet?” Dieter jokes, even as his breath leaves him.

“No,” you say with an indulgent smile. “You here with me and Bubble.”

He fights every urge in his body to kiss you because that’s not what you need right now. Right now it’s a sentimental moment. You’re mourning your father, you’re feeling emotional and he doesn’t want to capitalize on that. He doesn’t want to turn your vulnerability into something about him and how he feels.

Instead he balances his forehead against yours, his large palm falling lightly over your stomach. Both of you have your eyes closed, but Dieter can imagine what a picture of domesticity this is. Both sets of eyes closed, foreheads touching, his hand on your belly. It makes his heart swell with a different kind of love.

“Happy birthday, baby.”

When you finish showering and pulling on a summer dress that covers your bump you head into the kitchen, following the sound of buzzing and Dieter swearing. When you come around the corner you try not to laugh at the sight of him standing at the blender with blue lumps all over his clothing.

“Dieter what the fuck?”

"I wanted to make you a smoothie like Petra does but I've never done it by myself before and the stupid fucking thing exploded all over me."

Your hands go to his collar, swiping some of the yogurt and berry mixture from his cheek. You pop it into your mouth and hum appreciatively.

"Mmm blueberry, my favorite,” you grin before moving him out of the way with a gentle tap of your hip against his. He watches you place the blueberries and everything else into the blender. He feels like a moron when you affix the lid before starting to blend it properly.

“So what do you feel like doing today birthday girl?”

“Dieter you’re here and you already got me the nicest gift,” you tell him over the hum of the blender. “I don’t need anything else.”

“Pffft,” Dieter rolls his eyes. “Birthday’s are a chance to get spoiled.”

“I’m already spoiled and my birthday was yesterday.”

“Don’t care.”

“I think you should give Magda and Petra the day off.”

“That’s not a gift for you.”

“They work hard to keep this place up, Dieter. And now they have to take me into account.”

“Fine fine. They can have the day off with pay. Now either you think of something you want or I’m gonna decide for you and it’ll be something fucking insane.”

You gurgle a laugh, pouring your drink into the waiting cup. You take a deep pull, blue coating your upper lip as you look thoughtfully off into the distance.

“Okay. I know what I want.”

Two hours later the two of you are walking into the oldest cinema in LA. He’s wearing sunglasses and an old baseball hat. You’re wearing a beanie and oversized glasses as well. He fights every impulse to take your hand in his, deciding he is content just with the sight of your bracelet dangling off your wrist. It glints in the sunlight along with the ring from Ireland you’ve never taken off.

Dieter loves seeing you in the bracelet. Loves seeing the jewelry be bought you wrapped around your wrist and digit. Loves that pieces of him touch your skin every day. "Two for braune Augen please," you tell the bored looking girl behind the counter. She doesn't even look up from the till just rings you up and hands you two tickets. “I didn’t even know this place was still around,” Dieter marvels as you enter the lobby.

“Little known gem,” you tell him. The two of you line up for popcorn. The smell of the theater takes Dieter back to when he was a child, going to the movies with his mother.

Dieter buys the popcorn and red vines at your prompting, trying his hand at an Irish accent again to throw off the boy working the concession stand looking at him curiously. Thankfully this hole in the wall theatre is ancient with soiled red carpets and old seats that creak when they lower themselves into the near empty theatre.

"This stuff is terrible for you," he chides as you find your seats and throw a handful of popcorn back munching happily.

"Talk to me when you stop smoking."

Dieter doesn't say anything after that.

The house lights dim and the movie begins. Dramatic strings sound out as a bleak image of a man standing in a field with a gun is shown. He starts talking to the camera in German, the subtitles telling the bizarre story of a toy maker.

You make it maybe twelve minutes into the film before you're passed out against his shoulder, breathing softly.

"I didn't know you liked German surrealist films," Dieter murmurs.

When you don't answer he looks over at you, seeing your sleepy face.

"Sleepy girl," Dieter murmurs with affection.

He thinks about rousing you but finds he enjoys the sensation of you leaned up against him in the darkness. It's like a date.

You wake up around the midway mark of the film with a start. When Dieter grins over at you, you pretend like you’ve been awake the whole time.

“Woah the filming is so good,” you say holding in a yawn. Dieter’s lips twitch in amusement.

“Mhm.”

You plop back onto his shoulder and he holds in a chuckle when your snores kick up again.

The movie is good, but your presence distracts him. Why did you want to come here? He's never known you as an art house film fan. He watches a moment longer before it suddenly hits him. He realizes now why you’re here in this little theatre in the middle of the day.

Because he told you he misses it. That his mother used to take him and that it reminds him of her.

You did this for him. It’s your birthday and you did something for Dieter. He takes your limp hand in his, lacing your fingers with his own before resting both on his knee. You continue to sleep on beside him.

Finally the movie ends and the soundtrack is all high pitched strings which bring you out of your nap. You raise your head, thankful you didn’t drool.

“That was good,” you tell him with a sleepy purr to your voice. “Better than I thought it’d be.”

Dieter is looking at you from the corner of his eyes, his head bowed. The house lights have come up and the few patrons that remain have left. The cinema is empty and Dieter can’t find it in himself to move.

“You brought me here because I said ages ago that I missed going to the movies. And because it reminds me of my mom.”

You shrug, caught. Your cheeks pink as he continues to stare at you, not speaking.

“You’ve done so much for me,” you tell him before the moment can grow too heavy. “I just wanted to do the same. Now let’s go, I gotta pee.”

Petra is one of the most patient people you know. She'd have to be working for Dieter. From the moment you move in she's over the moon, offering baby name suggestions and telling you that she'll make anything you want from scratch pushing her shock of red hair from her ruddy face.

It doesn't matter if it's ice-cream with pickles over lemon flavored crackers, she'll make it delicious and she'll make it from scratch before serving it to you with a very proud expression.

Magda is a scream. She's been working for Dieter as his cleaner since before her hair was a solid white mass of frizzy curls. She spends most of her time smoking European cigarettes and doing sporadic dusting in between stories about her latest Tindr date.

The two women like to take their breaks together, both chain-smoking outside by the pool while they complain about real estate prices.

You love them both immensely.

You've known them since you started working for Dieter, but you've never really interacted. You were always so busy with you job and they with theirs.

But now that you're stuck indoors most days they've become a lifeline to you. Perhaps mother figures as well since you haven't spoken to yours since you moved out.

You think about calling her every once in a while. When the baby moves or your muscles ache. But you don't. You can't be the one to give in first because what she said about everything was hideous.

Besides, Magda and Petra love being mother hens. Petra likes to knit in her spare time and almost every week when she sees you there are little baby booties or jumpers waiting to be hung in the nursery wardrobe.

Magda massages your shoulders even when you tell her she doesn't need to. She just waves your anxious hands away and tells you in a heavy accent: "I do same for my daughter when she is pregnant."

You adore them both so much that when they aren't around in the house you try to make your own smoothies, washing your dishes and chastising Dieter if his clothes don't make it in the hamper.

And he fucking loves it.

He loves having you there tutting behind him, reminding him to wipe toothpaste off the mirror and to sweep his toast crumbs off the counter so he doesn't add to Magda and Petra's labor.

He loves that you care enough about everyone for it to matter. That you fit into his home like you've always been there.

Sometimes it drives him crazy when you're there at his elbow complaining that his laundry hamper is overflowing or some other trivial matter. But for the most part he secretly loves having this domesticity with you. That he craves you in a totally new way when you scrub at a stain in his shirt so Magda doesn't have to.

None of his other partners were like this. All were eager to be waited upon, many not even bothering to learn the names of his staff.

"You should give them a raise," you tell him one day over dinner when it's just the two of you digging into the veggie pasta Petra prepared. "Neither of them have had one in a few years."

Dieter slurps up pasta, nodding in agreement.

"Okay."

"Okay?" You look at him, brows raised. "Just like that?"

He has pasta sauce on his cheek when he answers.

"You want me to fight you on it?"

"Not particularly."

"Good," Dieter nods, scooping up the last of the sauce with his garlic bread before popping it into his mouth. "I trust you. I know you'd spend our money wisely.'

And then he gets up from the table with his plate cleared as if he hasn't said something completely momentous.

You watch him rinse it under the tap and place it in the dishwasher before announcing that he's going to paint for a few hours.

You remain sitting at the table staring after him for several minutes. Our money. Ours. As if you were a real couple. As if you were his wife.

I trust you. I trust you. I trust you.

Later that night in your guest bedroom you bring yourself off twice to thoughts of him. You can't explain why tears stream down your face as you do.

When he’s not in interviews, filming commercials or prepping for his next film project with his acting coach, Dieter spends some of his free time in the art studio. He's very insistent you not go in there, especially when he’s working, citing that you'll break his concentration and creative flow.

You respect his space and carve out your own routine within his sprawling home. Walks in the neighborhood, swims in the pool, reading by the fire and evenings spent with Dieter on the couch watching bad reality TV or documentaries.

You also like to spend some of your free time working on the nursery. Sometimes he offers his own suggestions, but he sees how much you enjoy this little project and he tries to give you as much space as possible.

When it's finally finished you show him proudly pushing. Open the door much like he did for you only a month earlier. He walks in, expecting to hate it, but instead is overwhelmed at the cozy atmosphere you've curated.

The carpet is a plush white and blue pattern that feels like butter on his bare feet. The walls are a warm cream and the ceiling has been painted to look like a celestial morning sky. Oversized tufted chairs are at the side under a gauzy curtain that makes the whole space feel safe and cozy. The crib is a beautiful white, beautifully carved with small triangles etched in the design.

“To match your tattoos,” you tell him with a grin.

It’s nothing like Dieter thought he’d want, but the second he walks in he’s overwhelmed by a sense of peace and tranquility. The exact environment he’d want his son growing up in. He thinks he might just want to hang out in here to meditate.

"It's beautiful," he says in awe. "He'll be so happy here."

"Yeah, he will," you say with a gentle smile.

Weeks later you and Dieter lay on his bed, both of you enthralled by the Netflix show projected on his large TV. In recent weeks you've taken to doing this. Dieter returning from work late and finding you on the couch. At first he would fall down next to you, talking about that you were watching.

Then he began to suggest watching in his room on his bed. Nothing funny, he claimed, he'd suggested it just because it felt better on his back. He gave you plenty of space, both of you leaning back against the plush pillows.

Then you started crawling under the sheets because you were cold. And then he was cold. Then he decided that snuggling under the sheets was better. You'd wanted to deny him at first, but he's always so warm and he fit so nicely against you that when he pulled you against him you simply snuggled up against him.

Now he comes home and just holds out his hand for you, waiting for you to nod and then helping you to stand. And every day he kneels in front of you and kisses your belly just above the navel. Then he takes your hand in his and guides you to his room before collapsing next to you in his huge bed.

You've burned through all the seasons of Below Deck. Now it's Selling Sunset.

"Without Christine what's the point?" He grumbles.

"Totally," you agree through a mouthful of ice cream. "And there are never enough of the houses!"

Sometimes when the TV goes off you're already asleep snoring softly. On those nights Dieter watches you, hand grazing your cheek. Sometimes he just wants to hold your belly and fall asleep curled around you.

Sometimes if you're both still awake he asks you to run your nails through his hair and you do, giving the odd little tug and smiling when he gives muffled groans. You do it now, eyes on the screen and your hand carding through his curls.

A commercial comes up on the screen and Dieter groans, throwing a pillow at it.

“Boo! Get this asshole off my TV!”

It’s a teaser trailer for the movie he and Mia filmed together; The Rogue Duchess. Dieter in his regency gear, Mia with her fluttering eyelashes.

“Haven’t heard you mention Mia much lately,” you observe as you watch her pretty face on screen.

“We’re cooling things off,” Dieter lies, his eyes on the television. “

“Really?” you try not to sound too pleased by the news. “I’m sorry Dieter I know how much you like her.”

“S’fine,” he shrugs, not looking the least bit upset.

You do your best to hide your delight.

Halloween is just around the corner and Dieter swans into the house after his latest meeting with Diane. He looks run ragged. You wish you could have been there to see what she said, but of course you’re kept in the dark. The only thing Diane sends to you are bi-monthly checks.

“She thinks now that Mia and I are officially over that I have to rehabilitate my entire image,” Dieter groans as he throws himself onto the couch next to you. “I need to start a charity and some other shit.”

“Is that really such a bad idea?” you muse looking up from your crossword puzzle. “Starting a charity could be a wonderful thing.”

“I wouldn’t even know where to start,” he gripes, slapping the pillow next to him aimlessly.

“You could fund amazing research,” you tell him, shaking your head at him overlooking this. “If I had your money I’d be setting up research into the cancer my dad died of. It’s way underfunded.”

Dieter says nothing, but he nods. You don’t know that he’s actually listening to you. You go back to your crossword puzzle.

“I gotta practice some lines,” Dieter sighs as if he has the worst job in the world. “You wanna help me with them?”

“Of course. Gotta earn my keep around here somewhere.”

“No you don’t,” Dieter says, pouting over at you. “You’re only job is to relax and make our baby.”

Our baby. You hate the tingle that goes through you at the words. Especially when it isn’t your baby at all. You’re a womb rental, that’s it. You go quiet for a moment and Dieter looks momentarily down at his hands.

“Have you called your Mom lately?”

“No,” you frown. “Why?”

“I just know you miss her.”

"Yeah I guess," you whisper in a croaky voice. "Every fall we'd go to this Boo at the Zoo thing."

"Boo at the zoo?"

"Yeah in Oakland. You dress up and there's contests and you can see the animals and... My mom and I just liked going to see all the costumes and..." You trail off, overwhelmed by the memory.

"We can go," Dieter insists, already bringing out his phone. "I'll get tickets-"

He pauses when he sees the cringing expression you wear. Realization hits him and he lowers his phone.

"It's a you and your mom thing."

"Yeah." Your head drops forward when you nod.

Dieter wants to give you everything. Wants to take away this pain. Wants to erase the lines between your eyebrows as you swallow your tears. But he can't do anything right now aside from supporting you.

"How about we watch a scary movie?" Dieter suggests. "Make popcorn and all that shit?"

You give him a watery grin. "Yeah that sounds great."

Not even an hour later the popcorn rests half-eaten on the coffee table and you sit with your head on a decorative pillow in Dieters lap, half asleep. Dieters hand runs up and down your spine subconsciously as he loses himself in the film.

"Dieter do you really think Rosemary's Baby was the best film to watch?"

"I heard good things."

Your eyes keep drifting shut. Dieters couch is so comfortable and the feel of his fingertips running along your spine is so relaxing.

"I can't believe how hard it is to stay awake," you murmur. "It's not even ten."

You shift your head on his lap, murmuring slightly when his fingers move to card through the hair at your temples.

"Mmm, feels good."

Dieter gazes down at you, thumb drifting over your cheek, pushing your hair behind your ear as he watches your eyelids flutter closed. Your light snores begin and he wants the moment to go on forever.

I love you.

The thought has been brewing in his mind for months. This unspeakable but oh so palpable feeling he carries with him. The one he swallows every time you smile at him over breakfast or snuggle up to him at night.

The movie ends a short while later. You're zonked out, snoring louder. Dieter bends over to kiss your temple.

"Time for bed, baby."

"M'fine," you argue with a yawn. "I'll just sleep here."

He smiles as you groan when he slides out from underneath you, pulling you gently by the wrists to a standing position.

"C'mon baby mama, we're going to bed."

You make a face, grunting in irritation. He wraps his arm around your back, helping you sleepily walk to the bedroom; his bedroom. Your eyes are still closed even as he pulls back the duvet and you snuggle underneath.

He crawls in bedside you, watching as you slowly spin to face him, your hand going to your belly.

"Thanks for the movie," you mutter. "S’good."

"Any time," he promises, pressing a kiss to your cheekbone.

You smile at the rasp of his beard against your face. He pulls back, head on his pillow just watching you.

“Baby?”

Your eyes flutter open, pupils blowing wide when you see how near he is. “Yeah?”

He blinks rapidly, his eyes darting to your mouth and then back to your sleepy gaze. He moves forward slowly, inching there and waiting for you to pull back. You don’t. Instead your head tilts forward at the same time, your mouths meeting for a sweet and tentative kiss that has both your pulses skyrocketing.

His nose drags against yours as you break apart, nudging your face to the side and allowing him access to press sloppy kisses up the column of your neck. He nibbles and tastes along your pulse point as you whimper until his mouth captures yours in a searing kiss, the petal soft of his lower lip slotted beneath yours. You respond in kind, hand fisting his t-shirt, mouth taking everything that he’ll give you.

“So sweet,” he whispers, kissing you again, pushing your body into the mattress.

“Shouldn’t,” you murmur uselessly, even as you drag your tongue along his lower lip, wetting it.

"Please, baby," he groans against your lips, hands sliding up the bottom of your t-shirt to cup your heavy breasts. "Wanna make you feel good."

His hands move over the globes of your chest, his cock twitching as you moan at the sensation. He breaks away from your mouth only so that he can tilt back and marvel at how big your tits have gotten. You wear such oversized clothing he can rarely tell. But tonight they swell in his hands, heavy and full and fucking perfect. He slides your t-shirt up, seeing your breasts exposed for the first time. The sight is enough to make his knees buckle.

"Fuck," Dieter groans, extending the u. "You look so good."

He pushes your t-shirt up higher, wanting to look at your chest more in the semi darkness. You allow it, raising your hands above your head, allowing him to peel the shirt from your body. You watch as he drinks in your naked upper half, dark eyes round and awed.

He looks at the full of your breasts, the sensuous curves of your body, the swell of your abdomen.

Mine.

The thought is fleeting, way in the back of his caveman mind. That your body is his, full of his child. That his body is yours, meant to protect you. But it drives him forward, bracketing your torso with his forearms. He has to arch slightly, afraid of putting too much pressure on your stomach.

"I need to taste."

You let out a piercing gasp when his mouth latches to your left nipple, sucking it into his scorching mouth and flicking the nipple with his tongue. His hand worries your other nipple into a point, sending sweet jolts of pleasure through your core.

"Fuck, yes Dieter!"

You can't even fight it. You don't want to. You just lay back, allowing his lips to trail between the valley of your breasts before he's doing the same with your other nipple, moaning deliciously when you're hands card through his hair, holding him in place.

"Suck harder," you beg, feeling your hips starting to grind against his front. "Please!"

Dieter moans in response, his hips gyrating against yours as he obeys your husky order. You feel your nipples being alternatively sucked hard, liquid heat pooling between your legs.

"Fuck... Fuck Dieter that's so good," you whimper, eyes slammed shut. "Don't stop!"

You feel him grinding his hard cock between your legs, the two of you fully dressed and yet writhing as if you were naked. All that's exposed is your tits, chilled when not covered by Dieter's needy mouth.

But it's the sound he's making that has goose bumps breaking out over your body. This low, needy hum of carnal satisfaction that makes your toes curl and your legs quiver. Your thighs tighten around his hips, your clothed pussy desperate for the friction of his cock through his sweatpants.

Fuck, you're going to come.

The realization hits you just as your back begins arching up beautifully for him. And he must know because his fingers and mouth are still sucking and flicking at the same tempo.

"Yeah baby," he groans between sucks, thrusting his hips against yours. "You come for me just like that."

An orgasm suddenly overtakes you, causing you to rut against him, crying his name as you come. It makes tears spring to your eyes as your body twitches, jerking from the almost painful pleasure that releases as you let out his name in a cracked whimper.

He kisses you, tasting the sound of his name on your lips as you rut against him, hands grabbing his shoulders for purchase. A moment passes where all you can hear is your own panting breaths. Dieter watches you lean lightly up on your elbows.

"Did you-"

"-Yes."

"Just from-"

"-Yeah."

You feel strangely embarrassed at this truncated exchange. You've never come just from some guy playing with your tits before. It makes you feel over eager and insecure, cheeks flaming and eyes going around the room. But Dieter's eager voice cuts through your discomfort, his large palms cupping your breasts again.

"Fuck, that was so hot, can we do it again?"

Your gaze flicks back to Dieter. He's excited, grinning crookedly as he continues to knead your breasts lazily.

"You think I could make you come even faster this time doing it?"

Insecurities fall from your shoulders like an unwanted jacket. You beam, laying back and sighing dreamily up at him.

"Let's find out."

You wish you could say that your sexual excitement for Dieter waned after that, but if anything it just stoked the fires. With Mia out of the picture and Dieter looking at you with those sultry gazes it’s not long before you’re dreaming up more excuses to touch him.

A graze of your hand over his when he hands you a fork at dinner. Snuggling up a little tighter to him during movie nights. But he’s gotten busy so he’s more tired than usual. Reshoots are necessary for the film and he has a commercial shoot as well. He comes home late, tired and wanting nothing more than a shower and a sleep.

You still join him in his bed but it’s only so he can hold you tight, breathing in your shampoo as he drifts off. And honestly that’s fine with you because you’re coming to count on his warm arms around you, coming to rely on the way he calls you baby and runs his fingers down your spine.

You love it.

“I’m so done with this fucking costume,” Dieter seethes, tossing off the cloak as he walks into the house one evening. You glance up from your newspaper, about to say something when you feel yourself transfixed.

He’s wearing the regency outfit from the movie. He’s angry though, not even noticing as your breathing grows shallow and your cheeks get hot.

“Didn’t even give me a chance to change before they’re striking the set. I had to get a car home looking like a fucking butler.”

He growls, looking up at you seated at the bar. Your drink from this afternoon remains untouched at your elbow and he feels irritation flare within him.

“You didn’t even drink the smoothie Petra made you,” he grunts, irritable. “You’re supposed to. It’s got all your nutrients.”

He tugs at the cravat around his neck in frustration at the world but you croak out his name, hand raised.

“No! Leave it.”

“Leave it?” Dieter says with a sharp laugh. “No fucking way. It’s-“

He’s about to say something more but you’ve come sauntering over to him, chest flushed and your eyes glassy. You gently press his back against the wall.

“Hand.”

He holds out his hand in confusion and watches you in awe as you take it, letting him help you to your knees on the cold, marble floor. And suddenly Dieter has an idea of what you’re doing, but he’s not quite sure.

When your hands gently rub up his thighs and come to stop at the waistband of his ornate pants you see the bulge of his hardening cock and you smile in satisfaction.

"What’re you-“

"Let me," you murmur, eyes gazing up to his face. "Please?"

"You're asking me if you can suck my cock?" Dieter says it in breathless awe. "Are you serious?"

You are. You find you're so eager to give him the pleasure he so easily offers to you anytime you want it, especially when he’s dressed like something out of a Jane Austen novel. Your very own rumpled Mister Darcy.

"Jesus," Dieter whimpers, watching you on your knees for him. In a million years he never thought he'd see this. You sitting there with your mouth parted, asking to suck him off. He goes to shrug off the jacket and tug off the cravat but your hand goes to still him.

"No," you say gazing up the length of him. "Keep it all on. Please."

Dieter breaks into an oily grin as he realizes the reason for your sudden ardor. His mind travels back to that day on set.

I saw how you were looking at me earlier. This costume do it for you, baby mama? Should I bring it back with me later?

He widens his stance, unfastening his trousers and lowering them. You watch in anticipation as his cock is freed and you hold in a sigh at the sight of it. Large, thick and practically throbbing for you. It twitches when you drag your tongue along the slit.

"Spit," Dieter says huskily.

For some reason you’re taken back to the awards show where he spat his gum into the napkin. You could laugh at the role reversal.

"C'mon baby," Dieter says gently when you hesitate. "Spit on my cock."

You don't know why but those words in his rasping baritone sends a new flood of arousal coursing through you. You tilt your head, mouth pursed. Dieter watches as your saliva drops onto the head of his cock.

"Fuck yeah," Dieter growls, his hand coating himself in his pre come and your spit. "Wanna make sure it's nice and slick for you."

You moan, eyelids fluttering at the words. And without pausing you take the head into your mouth, never breaking the eye contact you hold with him. He gives a soft whimper in his throat at the sight of his glossy cock sliding into your mouth and throat.

“So good,” Dieter gasps, his hands on either side of him against the wall.

You grin around his cock, hollowing your cheeks and are rewarded with Dieter’s legs going rubbery. Something is missing though to make this fantasy perfect for you. You pull off of him, your hand going to stroke him as you speak.

“Say your lines.”

“Huh?”

“Say the lines,” you order breathlessly, giving little kitten licks to the head of his weeping cock. “The ones from the movie.”

Dieter looks fucked out as he gazes down at you.

“Why are you here?” you prompt before urging his cock back onto your tongue.

Dieter takes a moment but then he understands, grinning widely. You watch as before your eyes he transforms from Dieter into the rogue.

“You know why,” Dieter pants, thrust shallowly into your mouth.

He grins broadly when he sees your eyelids fluttering. You’re turned on out of your mind, looking up at his handsome face in his white lawnshirt and cravat. He’s so sexy, his hand coming to cup your cheek as you swallow his cock.

“I need you,” Dieter growls, eyes fixed on yours. “So much I can barely breathe.”

His thrusting is increasing, watching as you begin to squirm on the floor. You’re getting off to this and Dieter finds himself inching towards his orgasm at an alarming speed. Your eyes are rolling into the back of your head as you continue to suck him.

“You see what you do to me?”

Your panties are soaked and your head is bobbing along his length for what feels like a very brief time before he’s spilling down your throat, murmuring to himself how good you are for him, how sweet your mouth is.

He’s trembling, his cock twitching a moment as your eyes crack open to glance up the length of him. He’s staring down at you in what seems like awe. He pulls himself from your mouth, letting his cock hang heavily between his legs, slick with your saliva.

"Fuck that was hot," he tells you, pressing a full-lipped kiss to your mouth when he pulls you to a stand. "Your tongue is better than any drug."

You want to laugh at his version of sincerity but instead you just giggle, shaking your head. He grins and kisses you again before his voice turns stern.

"Now are you gonna drink your smoothie?"

Now you do laugh, a loud roaring thing that has Dieter smiling in confusion at you.

"Are you really standing there trying to be authoritative with your pants around your ankles and dick hanging out, Bravo?"

Dieter gives a barking laugh at that before he tucks himself back into his boxer briefs and pulls up his crushed velvet pants.

"Now that I know you prefer sausage in your mouth I'll remember that for your future meals."

He's giggling and out of the kitchen before you can properly admonish him.

[Personal Diary D. Bravo – 32 weeks]

Her smile

Her hair

The way she smiles when she reads

When she taps her pencil when she does crosswords

Her mouth. Her fucking mouth.

When her brow scrunches just as she’s about to come.

How smart she is.

How kind she is. Such a big heart.

Mom would have loved her too.

“Jenga?”

You cry out with a laugh as Dieter brings the box over to the coffee table one rainy afternoon.

“You said you wanted to play a game, so I thought this would be a good one,” Dieter explains.

Magda and Petra are chatting in the kitchen over a cup of coffee that Dieter ordered in. Some fancy place with a fancy name you’ve never even heard of. He calls them over, insisting that they join in the game.

With an employer like Dieter Bravo they’re never really sure what awaits them at work, but Jenga surely wasn’t it. They grin widely, both older women seated across from you and Dieter.

“Alright you played before?”

“Of course,” the women answer in unison, watching as Dieter puts the rectangular pieces of wood atop one another, creating a tower three by three. You watch with interest, trying to figure out your first move.

“So the first person to knock over the Jenga tower loses,” Dieter says despite everyone already knowing the game. “And the first person that loses needs to make dinner.”

“I always make dinner,” Petra says with a pout.

“Oh, right,” Dieter says scratching his beard thoughtfully. “Okay… first person out has to… go run in the rain for two minutes?”

“And I will have to mop up?” Magda says flatly. You know she’s irritable because she hasn’t had her customary cigarette thanks to the rain.

“Oh shit,” Dieter nods, looking thoughtful.

“How about we just play?” You say rolling your eyes. “Winners get bragging rights.”

It turns out Petra and Magda are very competitive players. They don’t smile or chat between rounds, they just focus on the bleached wood rectangles before them. You and Dieter exchange looks of amusement when they swear in another language under their breath.

“There,” Petra says, breathing a sigh of relief when she manages to pull a wood piece without sending the tower flying. She glances up at you. “Your turn.”

You nod, taking a deep breath and smiling nervously. Dieter brings up his phone surrepticoously recording you. You’re all focus, your eyes narrowed as you pull the center piece slowly with your pinched fingers.

Dieter forgets that the sound is on with his phone and when he snaps a photo it makes an obnoxious clicking noise, distracting you into knocking the entire tower down. Dieter takes a series of snapshots despite this, chuckling at your horrified and then amused expression.

“Guess I lose,” you say with a giggle, pushing at the wood blocks.

“Such a good sport,” Petra says with affection.

“Especially since Dieter is cheat,” Magda offers. Dieter fakes being horrified as the group of you laugh. You start to put the pieces away, gently batting Magda’s hand away when she tries to help you.

“You do enough around here,” you tell her firmly. “Let me clean up.”

“Your mother raised you well,” Magda says, giving the crown of your head a kiss before she and Petra move back into the kitchen.

“Thanks Mags,” you say gently, not wanting to ruin the moment.

But all it does is remind you of your own mother who isn’t here, the mother who disowned you. The mother who hasn’t attempted to call you once since this whole ordeal.

Dieter watches all of this, his dark eyes calculating.

32 weeks

Craving

sexsexsex

Anything Taco Bell has on their menu

Missing

My mom

Baby is size of napa cabbage.

[11:03am] MOM: I told you I have no interest in your money.

The text comes through when you’re lounging in bed one morning, feeling tired from your third trimester hormones and the vomiting you thought you’d left behind in the first trimester.

You slowly sit up in bed looking at your phone in confusion. You re-read the message trying to understand what she’s talking about.

[11:22am] ????

[11:23am] I got a call from the bank not long ago. My mortgage has magically been paid off?

You pull on a robe, your eyes widening. You’re confused and you need to speak with Dieter. You search the entire house, calling out for him.

Magda and Petra are nowhere to be found at the moment and so you continue to scream out for him, texting his phone only to see that he’s left it behind on the kitchen counter.

Dieter is gone.

--------------------

PART 2 OF THIS CHAPTER HERE

--------------------

taglist: @caramilena @lovely-vamp-princess @annieispunk @lu62 @getitoutofmymindwrites @noisynightmarepoetry @lizzie-cakes @mysterious-moonstruck-musings @missladym1981 @tammythr @swankyorange @jupiter-soups @dontknow446 @fluffygoffpanda @doblasftcisco @sunnysinbar @dinomecanico @eff4freddie @fancypants1215 @moel-jiller @picketniffler @khxna @spookyxsam @fancypants1215

@getitoutofmymindwrites @manuymesut @whirlwindrider29 @mostardentlypascal @lu62 @missladym1981 @heareball @sptbear @drewharrisonwriter @lizzie-cakes @daddy-dins-girl @moel-jiller @tammythr @guelyury @lilyevanstan1325 @lu62 @staywildflowahchild @whirlwindrider29 @pedropascalsbbg @cherrycosmos392

dividers by @silkholland

#dieter bravo fic #dieter x reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #dieter bravo fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #pedro pascal #smut #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo smut #the bubble fanfiction

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blackopals-world · 3 months

Note

What is nurse!Yuu and Floyd’s kid like, if you don’t mind me asking?

Well I'll be honest, any child they have will be a fucking monster. They are a perfect mix of their parents and that's a bad thing.

Merlyn Leech

Younger(before dyeing his hair)

Older

He is an awful and wretched little creature.

If you paired Floyd's unhinged nature and Nurse!Yuu's knowledge you get a mad scientist.

He is so fucking shady and while he doesn't get in fights like Floyd he does enjoy human experimentation.

He works in the nurse's office just like Nurse!Yuu did and he loves collecting blood samples as a hobby. He even labels them.

Look at him, no light in his eyes. You can't trust that.

He also keeps medical leeches as pets that he feeds blood from his favorite people.

Do not get his attention. I will repeat, DO NOT GET HIS ATTENTION. HE WILL NEVER LET YOU GO!

If he likes you he will not squeeze you like Floyd he will want to study you and take you apart piece by piece.

He is a mama's boy. He used to threaten Floyd that he'd one day replace him one day. They used to square up the moment Merlyn was big enough.

Merlyn was a biter but now he usually hides his teeth. When he gets creepy his mask slips and you can see the rows of sharp teeth when he smiles.

Floyd adores his son but even he got tired of how often his son would bite him. He would later say that Merlyn drank more blood than milk.

Sometimes his parents would wake up to see a pair of glowing eyes hovering above them like a cat as Merlyn would watch them sleep.

He is still an eel-mer and isn't as big as Floyd, YET. Floyd takes him hunting when they have down time.

Everyone is kind of afraid of Merlyn in the Leeth family business. The kid was always in the medic bay with a surgical mask on and a scalpel.

Merlyn is covered in scars. Some self-inflicted to practice stitching and others...well he is his father's son.

He loves watching his momma work on bodies, especially surgeries. He loves looking inside of people to see what makes them work.

He is not fucking allowed to watch "Human Centipede". Merlyn has no ethics and he does not follow the Hippocratic oath. He is loosely acquainted with the morals of society.

In other words, he's a perfect member of the Leech family.

His favorite food is lobster.

Despite his creepy aura he is actually affectionate...in his own way. If he hugs you he will likely bite you. Luckily he doesn't hug alot of people.

"I'd love to know more about you. I bet if I opened you up I'd learn all of your little secrets~Kehehe. Just kidding~"

"Don't make that face, I promise not to bite...much."

"I just know you taste as good as you look."

"Don't worry my scalpel is sharp. You won't feel a thing when I cut. Don't worry I will only take a sample. I just want a peice of you to keep with me always. Even if it's just lock of hair."

Merlyn surprisingly does not become a serial killer. He actually becomes a surgeon who pioneers blood transfusion and organ transplants.

He's still a weirdo who does experiments though.

#nurse!yuu #yuuniverse #twisted oc #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst yuu #floyd leech x reader #twisted wonderland floyd #floyd x reader #twst floyd

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lady-of-glass-and-bone · 2 months

Text

Some Orm Marius Headcanons Just Because

Pairing: Orm Marius x reader

A/N: Orm headcanons because apparently why not. Orm is my new crush I guess? I don't know either. Wow this got really long. Not sorry. I haven't had inspiration in forever and it feels nice.

I imagine that if you're ever fancy enough to have a shower and tub separate from each other (which is my idea of fancy, I love giant bathtubs I'm a weirdo) he would chill in a full tub of water while you shower. The first time he does it he scares the crap out of you. Now it's kinda nice.

Also, taking baths together. He might scrunch up his nose and tell you he'll think about it when you first ask. Eventually he'll agree but fights you on the temperature of the water the whole time. You're better off just setting up camp next to the tub if you really want to hang out with him while he marinates.

Call it his Marinating Time and you get The Frown™️. Arthur 100% looses his shit and wonders why he didn't think of it first the first time he hears it and it catches on like wildfire.

Have a campfire with Orm and he'll awkwardly stand 10 feet away while you try to lure him closer. Eventually he comes around to it but he likes it more because of how much you like it. S'mores are secretly his favorite though.

And once he cooks over the fire that's it. That's the only way you'll get him to cook. Why? Because of the taste🤌 that's why.

You two can look at the lobster tank at the grocery store together. Dare him to steal the lobsters and he'll give you The Frown™️ because that would be childish.

You always bring a water bottle with you when you go out anywhere on land together. Like one of those giant, metal, double walled monstrosities that are heavy as fuck and hold half a gallon. He thinks you're insane for lugging it around everywhere until he realizes one day that he drinks out of it more than you and that you're carrying it around for him. He's such an idiot I love him

Likes the feeling of you idly running your fingers through his hair. It kind of reminds him of being underwater, feeling the current.

You get along with Arthur in a way that almost worries Orm. In the sense that you will 100% charge at Arthur in a mock fight and try to wrestle him to the ground as a greeting after like, the second time you meet him. Arthur is absolutely siked to have you around, you lighten Orm up but don't take shit from Arthur.

Which makes Tom instantly happy you're around. You two often commiserate over having fallen in love with Atlanteans and what not. Lots of comfortable silences between you to.

And Junior. Orm has all kinds of feelings he does not want to think about when he first sees you holding Arthur and Mera's kid. Even if his Mother is giving him a knowing look as you spin the laughing kid around until you land safely on the couch.

You get along so well with Atlanna even if she's a little intimidating at first. She sees how much you care for her younger son, how you don't let him linger on the outside looking in because "this is your family too, Orm" and she he hugs you a little too tight after hearing that, after seeing small stolen moments between you and Orm. Her sons are happy.

If you want Orm to teach you how to fight he will say absolutely not and when you ask Arthur, who obviously says hell yeah, only then does Orm take over. But then you tell Atlanna one day that you think he's going easy on you so she lovingly starts training you to kick ass. She does not go easy on you. It's kind of awesome.

If you ever go to a museum and see a tylosaur fossil and Orm casually points out he use to ride one, you literally drag him to the nearest beach and demand he proves it because LOOK AT THAT? ⬇️ THAT'S COOL AS FUCK!

So I went ice skating today and since I have Orm on my brain I was thinking about ice skating with Orm and he would be so very, very horrible when he first steps out on the ice. Thinks you are purposely trying to embarrass him. He's a baby deer on ice. The Frown™️ is impressive if you laugh at him falling because honestly the ice rink is in more trouble than Orm when he falls anyway.

I think (sometimes) he learns things through shear stubbornness. He doesn't want anyone's help. He can figure this out on his own thank you very much, no matter how many times he falls (literally or metaphorically) just to prove he can. But when it clicks and he gets it, man is graceful as hell. Does laps around you and gets brave enough to pick you up and zoom around with you yelling at him the whole time.

Also, he likes when you praise him praise kink? praise kink.

He gets snarky when he's upset and I imagine he can be pretty mean without thinking about it. Probably has a hard time apologizing when the relationship is still new.

So, so worried about seeming too vulnerable around you. Tell him directly that it is okay to be vulnerable, you love him, you trust him and you want him to trust you.

#orm #orm marius #aquaman #dceu #orm x reader #orm marius x reader #aquaman and the lost kingdom #orm marius headcanons #orm marius imagine #duck did it

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wh0re43van · 7 months

Text

I’ve always cared (Jimmy Darling X Reader)

Summary: Elsa took you in, seeing herself in you, when you and Jimmy were just 6 years old. Everyone at the camp loves you, Ethel has taken you under her wing, but Jimmy is much less than thrilled with your presence.

Warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol

Word count: 2.7k

A/n: I’ve gotten a couple requests, it may take a bit longer than expected because Im in college and I’m swamped at the moment, but I am working on them! This is just a Jimmy imagine I had been working on for a while. I tried to make this one a bit shorter! Thank you for reading, enjoy!

I glance at the wooden clock hanging on the lilac wallpaper covering my small trailer. 3:00pm, I better go meet Thomas, my new beau, at the entrance of the carnival. Hopefully Jimmy minds his business this time. It seems like every time I bring a date back here, he scares them off.

I look in my mirror, straightening out my purple and white dress before walking out the creaky metal door. As I step out onto my porch, I glance over at Jimmy’s trailer which happens to be about 50 feet from mine. He looks away and takes a sip out of his whiskey glass, resuming his reading of today’s newspaper. Theres always been tension between us. Well, more like a blatant dislike towards me. Jimmy always managed to get me in trouble with Elsa when we were little, now he constantly chases off boys I bring home. Whenever I would ask him why he hates me so much, he would just walk away, so I gave up.

I walk through the giant clown mouth and up to Thomas’ automobile as he steps out.

��Hey suga’. ” Thomas flashes a bright smile and pulls out a comb to slick back his dark hair.

“I’ve missed you Thomas,” I beam as I lean up to peck his cheek. I grab his hand to lead him back to my trailer.

As we approach my door, I see Jimmy glower over his newspaper. Not at me, but at Thomas. They make eye contact, and neither one wants to look away first. Seeming to be in some weird battle of unspoken dominance.

“Why so crabby, lobster boy?” Thomas teases. I roll my eyes. To my surprise, Jimmy says nothing. Just sips his whiskey, still refusing to break eye contact.

“Thomas quit it,” I huff then all but shove him into my trailer.

“I don’t know what that guy-“ I halt his words with a soft kiss, putting my hands on his chest.

“Don’t pay attention to him,” I smile and pull his black shirt from behind his buckle and over his head. “Just pay attention to me.” I bite my lip and a devilish smile creeps onto his face. I push him onto my bed and turn on the radio before straddling his waist, dipping down to kiss his neck. Thomas reaches up to close my blinds above my bed.

•

Jimmys POV

•

I see some shuffling out of the corner of my eye. I glance up at Y/n’s window to see that bastard shirtless with her on top of him. He notices my looking and gives me a sly wink before closing the blinds. I feel my face contort into a scowl and my blood pressure raise. I gulp down the last of my whiskey before I slam the paper down, shaking the table and knocking the glass over, but I’m too pissed to care. I march over to where my mother is starting supper.

“Why is she allowed to do that?” I huff, pointing at Y/Ns trailer.

“Why can who do what, son?” my mom asks while chopping some celery.

“Y/n,” I take my hat off to scratch my head. God, she makes my skin crawl from anger. “Why is she allowed to bring random guys here all the time?”

“Oh Jimmy,” Ma shakes her head. “She’s young and beautiful, let her have her fun.” She grabs the celery and turns to take it to a big pot. I follow her with angry footsteps.

“Yeah, well my trailer is 50 feet from hers Ma. I’d prefer to not have to hear her ‘fun’ every weekend.” I argued. Ma turns to look at me.

“Maybe if you brought some ‘fun’ back here for yourself you wouldn’t be in such a tizzy,” she raises her eyebrow. I narrow my eyes at her, grunting in annoyance before storming into the main tent. My mother had managed to make me even more angry, possibly because she might be right.

“Elsa!” I shout throwing the striped curtains out of my way. Elsa turns around in the fold up chair, removing a cigarette from her mouth.

“Yes, boy? What is it?” She asks flatly.

“Tell me why y/n is allowed to bring normies snooping around here for free all the time,” I question, stomping up to stand in front of her.

“Its not for free boy. They often come back with their families or friends for the real show. When she picks the wealthy ones, they even buy refreshments. So, are you asking why I’m allowing free publicity?” she pauses to take a drag off her cigarette. “I hope not because that’s a stupid question.” she exhales the smoke in my face. Once again, I march away, even more heated with whiskey sloshing in my veins. “dummer junge.” I hear the crone mutter in German as I beeline towards y/n trailer. A storm opens up, pouring down rain as if matching my emotion.

•

Y/N’s POV

•

Thomas leaves wet kisses on my neck as ‘put your head in my shoulder’ plays from my old stereo. I set down my glass of wine to help him unbutton the blouse of my dress. His eyes shimmer with lust as I reach behind my back to unclasp my off-white brazier. Out of no where, my door swings open.

I snap my head to my doorway as a very angry, slightly drunk Jimmy crashes through. I freeze as Thomas jumps off me, his face flushing in fear. He just stands above us for a second, Jimmy stares at me, I stare at him, and Thomas stares at Jimmy.

“Get bent lunkhead!” Jimmy snarls at Thomas. I’ve never seen this look in his eyes before. The boy next to me grabs his shirt and bolts out of my trailer into the rain. I call for him and stand to run after Thomas, but Jimmy grabs my wrist firmly. He stares into my eyes, glancing at my chest. My cheeks reddened in embarrassment. I was a bit too tipsy and stunned to realize my whole chest is exposed.

“Let me go Jimmy!” I pull my arm away, turning around to pull the top of my dress back around my shoulders and clumsily fastening the buttons. “Jimmy get out!” I holler, too wine drunk and embarrassed to deal with his shit. I turn to face him. He just stares at me with glossy eyes and his brows furrowed in a way that almost scares me.

“Fine. I’ll just leave then,” I huff brushing past him, storming out into the thunderstorm. Jimmy follows close behind me.

“You think you’re so fucking perfect!” He shouts. I turn around.

“What are you on about Jimmy?” I shout back in confusion, my voice being crowded out by the heavy rain falling around me. The man stumbles towards me, his white shirt sticking to him as the rain soaks in.

“Everyone thinks you’re some perfect little princess!” he yells with whiskey on his breath. “You have them all wrapped around your pretty little finger, even my own Ma adores you! But not me Y/N,” he screams while toddling closer to my face.

“Get your drunk ass out of my face!” I shove him back, but he doesn’t even move. “What are you even talking about?”

“You’re perfectly normal Y/N!” he slurs slightly, seeming to not even notice that I pushed him. “You don’t need to be here! Go out into town! Get married and have a normal life with a decent guy and quit fucking sleeping with guys who obviously want nothing more than your body! You just keep getting hurt!” He screams, grabbing my shoulders and basically shakes me.

“Don’t touch me!” I slap his hands and step back. “Since when do you care about me or what I do?” I scream right back, spitting some rain out of my mouth that’s running down my face. Surely, he can smell the wine on my breath just as I can smell the whiskey on his

“Since fucking ever Y/N! I’ve always cared,” he shouts the first line, softening at the second. What? Our screams stop, the sound of the rain floods my ears. I just now feel how wet my skin is, how soaked my dress has become.

“Well you sure have a poor way of showing it,” I say still bitter, but much more quiet.

“Truth is, I’m jealous of you Y/N. ” he admits almost in a whisper, still inches from my face. “you’re just so perfect. Your face, your body… your hands. You could be in the pictures! You’re just so…” he trails off maybe searching for words. All the rage flees from his eyes and it’s quickly replaced by admiration and guilt. Before I know what’s happening, Jimmy’s lips are on mine. I’m shocked, but oddly enough, I’m not upset. The boy pulls away and puts his hand on my wet cheek as the storm continues to come down in sheets around us. “You’re so perfect it makes me angry, and I’m sorry for how I’ve treated-“

I don’t need to hear anything else. Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, but I cant help to pull him back into another kiss. He returns the motion. Kissing me with a passion that’s been building for 15 years. He doesn’t need to speak; I can feel his guilt in the kiss and see it in his eyes. Maybe it’s foolish, but I don’t care. All I care about now is Jimmy’s lips on mine. Our kiss turns from slow and passionate to hard and desperate. Jimmy slips his hands under my ass, and I jump to straddle him.

“Lets go inside Jimmy. Let me get these wet clothes off you,” I pant in his ear. He almost runs, busting the door to my trailer open for the second time today, but this time with me in his arms. He sets me down on my feet not breaking the kiss. Wet clothes go flying around the small space in a whirlwind. Within a minute Jimmy and I are stripped down to the bone. Jimmy carries me over to my bed, laying me gently on my back.

“Jimmy,” I look up at him as water drips from his soaking wet curls onto my bare chest. “Do we really want to do this? I mean we both have some alcohol in our system,” I feel like I’m in a dream, everything has happened so fast.

“Y/N, I know it may not seem like it, but this what I’ve wanted for years. I thought I never had a shot with you, and I feared the rejection. That paired with my jealousy of your ability to lead a normal life...I acted like an idiot. And I’m truly sorry.” Jimmy admits his cheeks redden a bit. I can’t help but smile. I know this should be a sweet moment, but I’m desperate to feel the one man whose always resented me inside of me. I reach up to caress his face.

“I’ll forgive you Jimmy,” My hands snake around the back of his neck to pull his ear down to my mouth. “But only if you fuck me first.” I bite the side of his neck hard, making his breath hitch in his throat. In an instant his already bruised lips are back on mine in a wet kiss. Our tongues fight for dominance, of course he wins. His conjoined fingers reach down to spread my legs. finding his way to my entrance. He dips his hand in, moaning against my mouth at how excited he’s made me. He uses the slick to massage my clit, sending pleasure shoot through my whole body.

“You make me feel so good Jimmy,” I whimper as he leans up to look at my face. He seems to enjoy watching how much pleasure he’s bringing me. He keeps his eyes locked on mine and a big grin on his face as he dips part of his hand in my entrance, the other part still rubbing my clit. The feeling is heavenly, making me arch my back. I moan his name in praise, but he does this for women every weekend. I’m not just one of his whore customers. “I don’t want your hand jimmy,” I reach down grabbing his hand to move it away. He looks confused, almost hurt. “I said I want you to fuck me. I’m not just a bored house wife,” I bring his hand up to my mouth kiss his fingers, tasting myself in them. I want him to know that I’m not insulting his hands, I just want more than them. I sit up reaching between his legs to give his perfect cock a few pumps. His eyes squeeze shut and he tenses at the contact. “I want all of you Jimmy,” I whisper. “Lay down.” I command as I stand from my bed allowing him to lay in my place. He watches me with wide eyes, audibly gulping as I crawl on top of him. Settling between his legs, taking his dick into my mouth. He gasps, his hand quickly finding my hair, pulling it out of my face so he can watch me gag on him.

“Fuck Y/N” his words come out in a husky groan. “Shouldn’t I be pleasing you?” he asks before whispering some more profanity’s. I take his dick out of my mouth with a pop.

“Oh Jimmy don’t worry im I just getting you ready for me,” I grin, sliding his length between my fingers. “As much of a cock block you’ve been the past couple years, you have a lot to make up for,” I remind him as I line him up with my entrance, steadying myself with one hand on his sweaty chest.

“I am more than happy to pay up for that,” he smiles as I tease my self with his tip. “Especially since my efforts were successful. I almost feel sorry for those guys though,” as soon as he’s finished that last word I sit down slowly until he’s entirely inside me, the feeling of him filling me up making my toes curl. Jimmy lets out a breathy moan. “because if a man ever denied me this pleasure, I’ d stomp his fucking brains in. Y/N Y/L/N, you are truly a site to behold.” He grins with a look of lust and admiration in his eyes, reaching up to cup my breasts in his beautiful hands. I begin to grind slowly, my hips moving against his.

“And Jimmy Darling, you surely know how to make girl feel special even when your cock’s buried seven inches inside her,” we laugh as I begin to bounce up in down. The laughter quickly turns to moans and the sound of skin slapping against skin. Jimmy slides his large hands down to my ass to help me bounce on him, thrusting his hips up as he slams my ass down, repeatedly pounding into me impossibly deep, making me scream out his name so loud I’m sure everyone in the city could hear. A knot begins to form in my stomach and my hand finds its way to my clit rubbing in circles to help my orgasm build. Jimmy seems to be in a trance. His eyes following my body up and down like he’s being hypnotized.

“Just like this Jimmy please! I’m so close,” I scream out. My voice going horse.

“That’s it doll. Cum for me. I need it baby.” he grunts out. Jimmys encouragement pushes me past the tipping point. I come undone around him. Feeling such intense pleasure like I’ve never felt before. I clench and feel myself release, accidently squirting on his stomach, something I’ve only ever done once before. That was enough to make jimmy cum. I was only able to feel embarrassed for a second before jimmy threw me off him, barely able to get me off in time, shooting his thick strands of cum all over my leg as he clumsily attempts the stroke himself. I grab his dick, helping him ride out his orgasm. Jimmy stares into my eyes, his mouth agape, brown curls sticking to his forehead, and-

“Jimmy, are you drooling?” I ask unable to contain my smile. He quickly reaches up to wipe his mouth with his arm.

“I can’t help it doll,” he pants out, his dick still twitching. “you’re just so mesmerizing. I never imagined that I’d see you like this.” He admits. I giggle crawling up to lay my head next to his.

“Well, I’m glad you liked it, because you owe me a lot more, don’t forget.” I remind him. He reaches over and grabs the pack of cigarettes that Thomas left behind, popping one in his mouth. I grab the matches, lighting the white paper for him.

“For this? Doll you come get me, night or day,” he promises, exhaling smoke. I giggle and nuzzle into his chest. This was by far the best apology I’ve ever received.

#evan peters #jimmy darling x reader #evan peters x reader #evan peters smut #jimmy darling smut #jimmy darling imagines #kit walker x reader #kit walker imagine #kit walker smut #kai anderson smut #kai anderson #ahs asylum #ahs murder house #ahs hotel #ahs cult

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