#hate that they made her an generic death wife
Note
"i hate when a villainous character gets popular enough to become a hero and writers try and retcon their histories so they never fucked up in the first place" "#magneto" sorry but may i ask if theres a particular example? i'm trying to catch up on the modern comics and i have been bracing myself for seeing this sort of thing cause. you know. nuance is dead lmao
So, I've only recently started to read magneto's comics, and I'm reading mostly some old stuff, so my knowledge is limited, and I can't say if it's a recurring problem in recent comics (I mean, I hope is not, but Idk)
When I tagged magneto on that post I was thinking specifically about the first issue of Magneto's 2023 run, which had been released recently:
Now, I can see the reasoning behind this - magneto was a really one dimensional villain when he first appeared and it is a bit weird to read the Uncanny X-men #01 when you consider his later characterization. And marvel loves trying to give an explanation for everything...
Honestly, now that I finished reading the comic, and thought a bit more about it, I think it was a honest attempt. The comic does acknowledge that his later actions as magneto were not simply an act, that he did let himself get carried away by his rage. Tho still, this explanation does feel a bit hard to believe and makes you go damn man, your logic is weird af and it's so silly. I don't think they were trying to justify his later actions so much as they were trying to explain his first appearance
... without making him look too bad. Because Magneto (1993) already did that, showing magneto's descent into:
But still, I don't mind that much what they did in magneto (2023). I think both explanations are fine when you keep in mind that marvel really wanted to keep the uncanny x-men #01 as canon. As a dc fan I find it hard to understand why... But I appreciate their loyalty. Between the two, I still much prefer the 1993 version bc it has more nuance, and i'm not averse to the idea that magneto had some really low moments and had to go through some personal growth over the years. I'm not whimsical enough to truly like the sillier version, as much as they tried to make it look less silly and more believable.
#i did like magneto 2023 as a comic tho#i'm a simple person seeing magneto holding his younger self in his arms in the last issue made me emotional#also he was cute af buying christmas stuff for the kids on the first issue#tho i was dissapointed to not see him celebratinh hanukkah at the end i think it would have fitted the arc#also is it just me or the kids seem a lot younger than they originally did on their new mutants run?#i'm not sure how old they're supposed to be#in magneto 2023 i would say they look 12-14 at most but they look older in the new mutants#one thing i really didn't like in magneto 2023 was that they implied that magda died with anya#i love the version where she runs away horrified after he uses his powers to kill the man who stoped him from saving anya#i think it makes her more nuanced#you don't know if she was terrified by his powers or the killing or both#hate that they made her an generic death wife#men*****#drac panels#asks#magneto#max eisenhardt#erik lensherr#magneto (2023)#magneto (1993)
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Some MORE Canon/Not So Canon König 💋Headcanons💋
(NSFW Included • MDNI)
AN: AGAIN, these are just my thoughts and opinions of what I imagine König would be like IRL. I have once again divided everything up into sections and there is a whole section dedicated to more NSFW headcanons, so PLEASE…MDNI this is for the grownups! There is great mention of the words “wife”, “girlfriend” and some GN terms such as “you” or “your”. I am mainly writing this from the perspective of a woman. I’ve also included an IRL photo inspo to help get those imaginative juices flowing 🤭
IRL Inspo: @Fabientietjen on Insta/Tiktok
Likes, Reblogs, & Positive Comments Are Greatly Appreciated 🫶🏼
Enjoy! 💋
🪖Personality/Physical Appearance🪖
♡ TATTED. Definitely covered in tattoos, has the “my body is a temple so why not decorate it” mindset. All of his pieces are super unique to him and his experiences. Would more than likely get tattoos of his cats and his wife or GF so they’re always with him, especially when he is deployed.
♡ Very direct and to the point, but doesn’t necessarily always mean it in a mean or condescending way, he’s just very blunt. A lot of the time it’s more funny than anything else.
♡ Listens to Austrian and German folk music while he cooks, boisterously singing along with a gigantic goofy grin on his face, and a kitchen towel draped over his broad shoulder. It reminds him of being a child, and cooking with his mom back home.
♡ Hunter gatherer type of man. Owns a home in rural Austria where he is able to grow and harvest his own crops and hunt game. Probably owns a couple of animals on his small farm as well, but not for food, they’re like his family.
♡ Has a bit of a love hate relationship with his birthday. Doesn’t mind celebrating, as he is very grateful to be alive, but also just isn’t really one for all the attention that usually comes with birthdays. He’s more than content with staying in, ordering takeout and having some alone time with you 😜
♡ Loves dressing like he’s from the early 1900s. In his defence, it’s suits the fuck outta him, and reeeeally adds to that gentlemanly, timeless charm he has 🤭
♡ Will start pointless debates over almost ANYTHING simply because he enjoys watching people get frustrated. He thinks that shit is hilarious and will often play devils advocate just to get a rise out of someone 😂
♡ Hyperfixated on all things comics. Has been collecting comic books since he was a teen and has developed quite the collection.
♡ Big steak and potatoes kinda guy. Loves meat in general and probably isn’t afraid of eating the more undesirable parts of the animal, such as liver and gizzards.
♡ Huge on hygiene. Considering he’s spent quite a bit of time in some not so clean situations while being out in the fields on missions, being clean is something he’s become quite obsessed with now that he’s retired. More than likely because he doesn’t want to be reminded of his time in the military.
💗As a Boyfriend/Husband & Dad💗
♡ Adores taking you shopping, especially for lingerie. Will sometimes even request a private shopping session at your favourite boutique lingerie store so he can have you model a few pieces for him without interruption 😜
♡ Death stares at ANY MAN who even dares to look your way. He knows he has a bombshell on his arm, and there are many men who would kill to be in his position, but you’re his. He makes sure everyone is well aware of that.
♡ More than likely the type to opt for a small intimate proposal as opposed to something public and flashy. Would probably whisk his fiancé to be away to a beautiful tropical island, and propose to her during a lovely private dinner on the beach.
♡ Loves planning romantic vacations and getaways chalk full of excursions and activities he knows you’ll love.
♡ “I saw this at the mall on the way home and it made me think of you” type of man. He remembers practically everything about you.
♡ Teaches you how to shoot and takes you to the gun range at least once a month so you know how to protect yourself in case he ever needs to be away.
♡ Trains you in hand to hand combat, which involves a lot of roughhousing that usually leads to well…you know 🤭
♡ Tells you how beautiful you are and how lucky he is to have a woman like you on a daily basis.
♡ Was the most attentive husband on earth when you got pregnant. Ensured you had everything you needed at all times, would constantly massage your feet, and came to every doctors appointment you had.
♡ Absolutely obsessed with your pregnant belly. Hushed words of adoration in German as he kisses your cheek and rubs your belly.
♡ Would often speak to the baby while she was still in your tummy. “Hallo Baby Mädchen, es ist deine Vater König…I can’t wait to meet you meine Prinzessin” 🥹
♡ Has always wanted a daughter, and when you two finally have one, that little girl became the centre of his entire universe. Names her after his mother, her grandmother.
♡ Is the best Girl Dad™️ on the planet. From playing dress up and letting her practice her makeup skills on him, to tea parties that involve him wearing a princess tiara, there’s practically nothing he wouldn’t do for her.
♡ Your little girl loves to cook with her father. He will hold her in his arms on his hip as he cooks, allowing her to sample everything in the process.
♡ Loves taking family photos with his beautiful girls and your pets! His office at the base was full of framed photos of all of you, and he always caries a photo of you and your daughter with him at all times.
😈Behind Closed Doors…😈
♡ Last time we talked about how he fucks you, but what about how he makes love to you? Both are equally as intense to be honest 🤭
♡ When König makes love to you, it’s almost as if the whole world stands still, and you and him are the only people on earth…bodies moving in perfect rhythm and harmony with one another 🥲
♡ He takes his time with you, long intimate full body massages with sensual aromatic oils, feeds you chocolate covered strawberries from his lips, drizzles honey all over your body and practically licks you from head to toe, nipping and sucking at those delicious sweet spots of yours.
♡ The foreplay is excruciatingly euphoric. Soft, slow, gentle kisses along your neck and over your chest. Licking and pinching your nipples as you moan beneath him, the bulge beneath his sweat pants purposefully teasing your sopping cunt through your panties as he grinds against it before pulling them off. His tongue gently lapping at your folds and your clit from behind as he gently squeezes your ass cheeks.
♡ No part of you is off limits for him. His tongue darts into your tight hole as his thumb draws mind numbingly pleasurable circles over your swollen clit. Two fingers from his other hand slipping into your puckered hole.
♡ Loves watching your gorgeous full lips wrap themselves around the thick tip of his cock, his large fingers gently running through your hair as whimpers, moans and sweet praises escape him. “You’re so good for me.” “Mein Gott you look incredible sucking my cock.”
♡ He loves when you’re on top, practically mesmerized at the sight of your curvaceous naked body hovering above him, large perky tits bouncing up and down as you slowly ride his huge cock 🤤
♡ His large hands guiding your hips as he looks up at you, arousal dripping from his icy blue gaze mirroring the arousal in yours.
♡ He does, however, tend to get a lil too excited. You drive him absolutely crazy. Eventually he flips you over, throwing both your legs over his shoulders as he rests on his knees and begins slamming into you, repeatedly grazing your cervix with the tip of his cock as you practically scream his name. “Cum for me, Schatz, I want you to cum all over this cock.”
♡ As usual he always makes sure you cum first, but he can’t help but cum inside you. Your insatiably tight, wet walls clenching around his girth, milking every drop of cum from his aching balls 😩
#cod modern warfare#cod x reader#konig call of duty#konig cod#konig mw2#konig smut#konig x reader#könig#könig call of duty#könig cod#könig x reader#konig x you#könig fanfiction#konig#könig headcanons#konig headcanons#headcanon#konig x y/n#konig modern warfare#könig x y/n#könig x you#könig mw2#könig smut#könig modern warfare#cod mwii#cod#18+ content#18+ mdni#18+ post#mdni
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Currently trying to collect all the information about our companies’ life before the events of Baldur’s Gate 3. Mainly, about their family and age. Any suggestions/editing will be very much welcome.
Huge thanks to everyone who aiding the cause in comments and reblogs.
Last update - 10 April 2024.
Wyll Ravengard: is about 24, has left the city when he was 17, in origin introduction states that he’s been exiled for 7 years. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, he's in fact 24 & Neutral Good. Apparently his dad, Grand Duke Ulder Ravengard, raised him by himself, Wyll’s mother, Francesca, passed away in childbirth, when Wyll was born, as stated by Ulder’s longsword description, Wyll mentions her during a romance scene in Act 3, also calls himself “a single son to a single father”. According to Murder in Baldur's Gate: Ravenguard has never married and has no interest in domestic matters, moreover the said sword description calls Wyll's mother Ulder's love, not wife, which makes me think that Wyll was born out of wedlock. Supposed to have 3 uncles. I’ve seen a note about Wyll diving to see a mermaid as kid, written by his dad, in the high security vault. Florrick seen him grow up, had a crush on Stelmane as a kid, also during his childhood enjoined fishing with his dad, but sucked at it. Also, Ravengard's Scourger states that "Duke Ravengard's father was the sort of man who works with his hands, and communicates in grunts. In his heart his son vowed to do better. But when Wyll was born, Ravengard felt a strange gravity that drew him away from his son.", that strange gravity might be Francesca's death in childbirth(?). Generally, I strongly advise to take him around the city in act 3, as he tells plenty stories of his boyhood.
Gale Dekarios: still not sure if there any information about how old he might be, but I estimated around mid-to-late 30s, though it doesn’t really sit well with him meeting Mystra as a kid (btw there’s an absolutely wonderful post on this topic by @lairofsentinel, check it out), still I’d like Gale to be on the older side, alternatively, he may be around 28-30 due Mystra's return year. Personal headcanon - he's 37. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, he's 35 & True Neutral. He casted his first spell as a babe - a score of rabbits in the panty. Apparently lives separately from his parents in his tower, at least as kid had them both (mentioned when he first tells about his friend-tressym, Tara), thou in his origin (at least as much as heard and played myself but @vitanithepure confirmed it) only his mother gets mentions, the state of the other parent is unknown. Has a very tender relationship with her, but didn’t inform her about the orbe for her own safety, her name may be Morena (godsblessdataminers), Mrs Dekarios really wants him to find someone to settle down with. Also, Tara hates his beard.
Shadowheart (Jenevelle Hallowleaf): is about 50, comments that Viconia documented about 40 years worth of her life at the hands of Shar, in the same note she writes that Shadowheart was able to keep her heart true to her child self, and was hard learning Shar lessons. As I understood when she was kidnapped, she was about 10-13, kidnapping was directly by the Shar command.According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, she' 48 & Lawful Neutral. Personal headcanon - she's 51. After her abduction made friends with tiefling named Nocturne (they might have be more than friends?), had a pet mouse for sometime called Nibbles. There’s a grafiti somewhere behind Jaheira house which she has drawn. Shares a questionable taste of romance literature with Wyll and his father. Her parents’ fate, Emmeline and Arnell Hallowleaf: is up to you decisions. Her mother mentions that they wanted Jen to have siblings.
Karlach Cliffgate: early 30s I think, the way she speaks about Gortash makes me thinks she was practically a teenager when she started working for him and spend 10 year serving Zariel. Personal headcanon - she's 29. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, she's 30 & Chaotic Good. Her parents, Pluck and Caerlack, she moved them from Outer City to a nicer place. Her mom died due to fewer when she was a teen, dad a couple years later due to road accident. Both died before she met Gortash. Her mom seems to be behind her love for Minsc, Jaheira etc. You can meet her friend near Baldur’s statue.
Lae’zel of K’liir: seems to be barely 20. Githianky reach adulthood in their late teen, and as Lae’zel was yet to present a mindlflaer’s head, I think she’s the youngest in the party. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, she's exactly 22 & Lawful Evil. Personal headcanon - she's in fact 20. She hates owls due to their necks, Karlach agrees.
Astarion Ancunin: according to translation of his grave he only lived for 40 years before becoming spawn, spend 200 year as such. Safe guess - there's definitely smt wrong with his grave stone or/and translation as it messes the current year - from 220 to 250. According to Idle Champions of the Forgotten Realms, he's 263, which doesnt seem right, & Neutral Evil. According the artbook he was a corrupted magistrate, which seem to be true atleast to pre-release version.
Halsin is 350, his family is from the High Forest, thou they are all gone. Spend 3 years captured by drow, loves honey and curving ducks.
Jahiera is about 150-160, as she was a child in 1347. Has atleat five foster children: half-elf Rion, half-orc druid Jord, three humans - Jhessem, Fig, and Tate.
Minsc was a statue from 1409 to 1480s.
#bg3 spoilers#baldur’s gate 3#bg3#wyll ravengard#gale of waterdeep#shadowheart#laezel#astarion#karlach#gods I’ll be adding stuff up.#I have so many thoughts#another reason to love wyll - HE BASICALLY TELLS YOU HOW OLD IS HE UNLIKE OTHERS#expt halsin
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Can you write a Darkling x reader fic where reader (who is his wife for thousands of years and he cannot live without) is accidentally hurt by his nichevo'ya. Angsty where Aleksander is really guilty and scared he lost the only person he loves, maybe some comfort from reader as well?
Scars
a/n : I heart angst so much, it’s angst with a happy end cause I heart that ❤️❤️❤️. Reader is a Tidemaker.
Warnings: nichevo’ya attack on reader, blood, Alina hate, guilty Aleks, mentions of reader having an abusive home life
Aleksander Morozova x fem! Reader
Aleksander stood froze staring at his wife’s blood on his hands. His darling wife, the one who’d stayed by his side through it all. Through all years, hundreds of years surviving together and he’d…. he’d hurt her. He stared at his wife’s form as she slept on there bed. He hadn’t meant to.. he thought they’d leave her alone.
Aleksander stood in his room after a coughing fit. Y/n walked in and gently grabbed his shoulder, in hopes of comforting him when the nichevo’ya appeared. They thought that his sweet wife had cause him pain. They dug its claws into her side.
“No! No! Not her!” He yelled but it was too late. They had thrown her across the room, her blood pouring into the carpets. Aleksander rushed to her, grasping her into his arms.
He cradled her as her eyes weld up with tears. He held her face as he apologized over and over. His dark irises soon flooded with tears as he called for a healer. Fruzsi ran in and gasped at all the blood surrounding the pair.
Healers rushed into the room and Aleksander brought her to there bed. He watched with worry in his eyes, he watched with fear as they healed her. His grisha had never seen such fear in his eyes, not when they were being attack by Alina, not when he was freeing other grisha, never had they seen such fear in his eyes.
The healers worked quickly to heal their Generals wife and the most powerful Tidemaker. Fruzsi watched as the healers finished with uncertain looks at each other. They whispered in her ear, words that made her shudder.
“She’s weak and has lost a lot of blood, she might not make it through the night.” The healer mumbled. Fruzsi shock her head fiercely, Y/n was strong, she’d been her mentor, her friend for years. Unfortunately for them all their General caught their curt and quiet whispers.
No, this would not take his wife- Aleksander would try to reason. His wife was stronger than she gave herself credit for. She’d survived hundreds of years by his side through endless battles. He couldn’t be the cause of his beloveds death, he couldn’t be.
“Not her, never her.” Aleksander mumbled to low for any to hear but himself. And his nichevo’ya. They were to never touch her.
Aleksander sat in his wooden chair staring down at his hands in horror. He swore to never touch her, never hurt her. It was in his vows he’d made hundreds of years ago when they were young. He swore when they married in that tiny ceremony, just them and the minster that he’d never lay a hand on her like her father, her mother.
Now she laid possible dying because he’d failed to control his own nichevo’ya. Y/n had never been fearful of his shadow monsters, they were a part of him so naturally, his sweet Y/n loves them as she loves him. A soft rustling on there bed caused Aleksander to look up, Y/n’s eyes were open, just barely.
“Darling!” He reach to grasp her hand but stopped. His hand was still covered in her blood. Weakly he watched Y/n reach for him, he wiped his hand in his kefta and gently took her hand in his. The bed dipped slightly as he sat next to her frame, Y/n hazily squeezed his hand.
With his free hand he held her face. She nuzzled in the warm he provided her, the safety. Her eyes blinked slightly as she tried to sit up.
“Sasha…?” She muttered softly as he gently pushed her down.
“Don’t, you’re still injured and still weak.” His voice cracked with pain as he spoke. Y/n grasped at his scared face and pull him down with all the might she could muster. Aleksander rest his forehead against hers as he listened to her soft breathing.
“Sasha… I’m okay.” Y/n promised, Aleksander scoffed. He could practically see the lie, her lip was tight, her nose ever so scrunched. She was in pain and he knew it.
“No you’re not Y/n. You’re not okay and it’s my fault- I’m so sorry.” Y/n couldn’t remember that last time he used her name. She’d grown so accustomed to the pet names he’d use.
“It okay.. I’m okay.”
“No! No you’re not and it’s all my fault!”
“I will be okay.” Aleksander sighed softly. No matter what he did she wouldn’t care. Deep down he knew she was far too good for him. He was a monster and she… she was the ocean strong and beautiful. Still he feared one day she would realize how much better she deserved.
“Sasha? Lay down with me please.” Y/n mumbled. Aleksander shock his head.
“No absolutely not love, I’m not going to do that right now.” Y/n shot him a glare.
“I meant cuddle you dirty minded old man.” Aleksander laughed gently and kiss her forehead. He slowly laid next to her, not wanted to injure his beloved further. With an annoyed huff Y/n slowly and with a grimace moved onto his body. Aleksander instinctively wrapped his arms gently around her, bringing her closer to him.
“Sasha? Please don’t worry too much. I’ll be okay.” Y/n promised as she drifted to sleep. Aleksander laid awake for much longer as he monitored her.
“I promise, you will be.”
#aleksander morozova x reader#aleksander morozova x you#alina starkov#shadow and bone netflix#answered#general kirigan x reader#the darkling imagine
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Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 3)
The house does not make a home, but a home can make a man.
The trash pile has grown again. It's spilling out of the bin.
Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6
Alternate Extras: Embrace
Masterlist
TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.
Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.
---
The house is bigger than you remember it being from the game. For one, there's a sectioned off washroom hidden partially under the loft stairs and a full kitchen area in the left rear of the house. The ceiling is also ridiculously high for a one story (technically two) house, but you let that detail slide. It's to your- Link's, benefit, after all.
Another thing, upgrades are not offered automatically here. Though that should've been obvious in hindsight and you're a bit embarrassed to admit it'd slipped your mind. Most people would decorate and furnish their own homes with either their old furniture or newly bought.
That's what the many, many shops the game never had reason to show were for, after all.
Therein led to your current dilemma.
Practicality or comfort? The large thin rug with dark patterns, or a smaller plush one with elegant designs embroidered at the edges? Red covers? Blue, white, gray? All of them perhaps? Maybe just three?
Does Link prefer cast iron or the wok? Steel forks or maybe chop sticks? A full set of pots and pans, or just two or three good ones for repeated use? Which set of knives? The specialty set or a general use one?
Should the loft have a rug too? Should you get both? Should you get three? What about the washroom?
Towels? A vase...
Dumb idea. No vases.
Should there be two beds? When Link frees Zelda from the castle, surely the poor woman won't be made to live there in that festering monster's nest of a ruin. And having been trapped there for a century as the world outside moved forward (after having been royalty nonetheless), would she even know how to live on her own?
Would it be presumptuous of you to already set up for her arrival before Link even properly remembered who she was? You didn't want to make Link feel obligated to fufill your assumptions like that. He already had so much on his shoulders. He didn't need you to add more.
So, only one bed. Sheets?
"Jus' get them all, ya cluckin' mother cucco." Adino snapped waspishly, thin brows pulled down into a severe looking glare. His arms were crossed as he leaned against the wall closest to the 'Odds and Ends' shop's door, pointedly.
You barely spared him a glance, used to his attitude after having known him for nearly three years. And honestly, it was all for show anyway. Adino loved shopping with you, but the spiteful little shit would never admit it. Even under pain of death.
'Jus' making sure the walkin' rupee bag doesn't fall dead to an ill fated breeze.' He'd snark if ever questioned why he was following you around on his days off.
Lies, of course. The truth is he's lonely. So very lonely and too hurt yet to reach out to anyone else for companionship.
The man he'd called father for 14 years of his short life suddenly throws him out of the only home he'd known with barely the clothes on his back. All after finding out his recently departed wife had been having affairs. And the kicker, the bastard claims he supposedly doesn't even know if Adino's his or not (despite them having the exact same eyes and brows).
It'd been convenient though, you'd give him that. Just washed his hands of the situation entirely. Started fresh with a new wife and got rid of the unnaturally (Adino had parroted coldly, like a curse and a confession breathed in the same breath) effeminate son that may or may not be his.
No stings attached. Just living comfortably on his late wife's family property and shacking up with her younger sister.
And that abandoned son running, running, running across Hyrule. Until he dropped right outside of Hateno, quiet and hurting and nearly driven mad with hateful, writhing loathing.
You pull yourself from those thoughts. It's not your business. Adino may have shared that information with you during his mandatory background check, but that doesn't mean it's any of your business.
Even if the boy is living with you, and has been for the last three years.
(Even if you already ruined that man's fletching business. Even if you never told Adino why that man'd taken a very long walk off a very tall cliff.
Even if Adino knew and left flowers on your desk every year on that day ever since.)
"I'll take them all. As well as the rugs, towels and curtains, please. Oh. And that tapestry. Yes. The one with the apples."
Adino snorted, rolling his eyes, and you smiled. A merchant's got to advertise wherever possible, after all.
The older, greying woman behind the counter nodded, glancing over to two younger women (her granddaughters, twins and five years orphaned. turned 17 last Fall) waiting unobtrusively near the back of the shop. They didn't need any more instruction than that, swiftly gathering your choices and folding them into neatly wrapped bundles.
You swear this family had to have some sheikah blood in them somewhere. Even if they had pitch black hair and the darkest grey eyes you've ever seen. They were just too quiet and efficient to be normal Hyrulians. (And were little known for their discretion above all else.)
You tipped the women for thier help. They thanked you with a quiet tilt of their perfectly kept heads, before returning to their preferred corner in the far back.
You didn't bother to barter with this woman. You paid full price for everything, and then tipped her too.
Four gold rupees. And a note, which she took with a nod and a knowing glint in her eyes.
(Because they were known for their discretion, and you appreciated that more than anything.
You knew she understood the flowers you left on her desk every year on the same day.
And you knew she'd understand this too.)
You left, but not before catching one of the twins (the one with the blue head cloth and lip rouge) staring longingly after Adino's back as he marched from the store in a dramatic huff. Her sister hiding a probable grin behind her red painted hand.
'Interesting. But not my problem.'
---
Link looked up the curved path to Hateno's guarded gate as he sheathed his guardian sword, the black mist of two hopelessly mangled bodies blowing away in the strong mountainside winds. Further back still was the semi-conscious groan of a young woman surrounded by fallen mushrooms.
Link ignored her slowly rising form, having checked her vitals earlier before being ambushed by a pair of bokoblins. He knew she'd be fine, and honestly, if she was sneaking around monster infested forests for mushrooms (Link could still hear the snorting of the beasts further past the treeline) then she must be able to take a hit or two and come out okay.
She must have had the same thoughts because she merely dusted herself off, picked up her fallen produce and made for the trees once more. Barely sparing Link a backwards wave before disappearing into the thick underbrush.
Link blinked after her. And sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
So. That happened.
Link let it roll off his back easily enough. He had more important issues to deal with. Such as was it appropriate for him to just show up at your (and now his) doorstep fresh from the road and smelling every bit of it.
He discreetly sniffed under his arm and grimaced.
Surely you'd understand. You and him were connected after all, and you knew his name and knew he'd be coming to Hateno. A little roadside reek shouldn't be a big surprise.
Yet. He couldn't shake the self-consciousness. The irrational fear that you'd look at him and expect more than what you got.
Like that old man who was actually a dead person. Like that Impa woman, and everyone in that little village she lived in.
For how quickly he'd steamrolled through the untamed wilds of Hyrule just to meet you, he was oddly reluctant to continue now that he was at your metaphoric (and soon literal) doorstep.
He glanced down at himself, taking himself in with a critical eye.
The Sheikah armor he wore (it had been under 10,000 rupees, he checked) was covered in dust, grim and the unflattering stains of sweat, dried bloody drool (from that unfortunate incident with the bokoblin horse), grass and meat grease. His hair was so filthy it was nearly brown despite that equally unfortunate incident with the octorok having put him in the water several times (strong inconsistent winds make aiming bows hard, he'd discovered).
Hopefully you wouldn't be disgusted. He hoped you understood that he wasn't- well-
He wasn't who he used to be. Apparently.
"Link." A flat voice called out, and Link nearly jumped to attention at the unexpected interruption. He nearly reached for his sword too, before he stopped himself.
When Link looked up and met dark gray eyes, his heart started to tightened.
'Is that you, AM?' His eyes asked earnestly, wide and round with quiet searching. For recognition. For understanding. For anything at all.
Instead he got a slow, dispassionate blink and confusion as the woman spoke into the silence between them. "AM instructed me to lead you home, Master Link."
Link pointed to himself. "Master?" He rasped out quietly, voice rough and unpleasant even to his own ears. Nothing to say for the pain it caused at the base of his throat.
Without missing a beat the young woman nodded once, the blue bandana holding her dark hair back catching slightly in the wind. Blue painted lips barely moving as she said. "Yes. I will explain more once we arrive at your home."
Link nodded, still uncertain but trusting enough of this strange woman who knew the name (Alis? Nickname? Title, perhaps?) of his sheikah slate partner.
Tomorrow, he would be given a small journal detailing many of the dangers and wonders of this beautiful, wild world he now lived in. And he wouldn't be so trusting anymore.
And he'd have bananas, apparently. So many bananas.
But that's for tomorrow. Today?
Today was the first time he walked across the old, but sturdy footbridge. The first time he glanced over at the shrine glowing faintly to his left, peeking from behind a small cluster of buildings.
It was the first day he stood on the threshold of his (and your) new home. The first time since awakening he felt the beginning of heartbreak as he realized you were not there to greet him. That you would not be living with him. Ever.
('For now,' He thought in quiet defiance.)
And the first time since he opened his eyes in that dark, eerily glowing shrine he felt loved. When his eyes adjusted to the darker light of the house and found a home waiting for him.
Not just an empty building with four walls and a bed, but a rug with pretty dark patterns under a heavy wooden table. A bowl of apples at its center, with thick candles at either side. An intricately sewn tablecloth just slightly hanging over the sides in delicate little weaves.
He felt loved when he walked around the front room, boot-heavy steps thumping softly on polished hardwood floors, slowly taking in the space (the blue woman waiting patiently at the door). The small wooden sculptures upon carefully arranged tables, cute and quirky banners and tapestries brightening up the dimly lit room (one was slightly lower than the rest, another was slightly off-center, and Link felt warm at the imperfections). Sunflowers, a bird, a rock formation, an apple tree, a cat with a bell.
A sword and shield rack. Two armor stands. A few weapon's plaque hanging above them.
The food in the kitchen pantry. Completely unnecessary, but for the way it made Link feel. The way it made his throat tighten and itch. The thought that this was put here because it was meant to be his home.
And so much more. So many things he couldn't even remember the uses for. So many bits and pieces that slot together into the jumbled mess that is a home. It was more than he had the heart to acknowledge without weeping.
Noticing his brewing turmoil, the blue woman spoke. "Perhaps a bath and bed before we speak of business. AM said you may be tired when you arrived."
Link nodded, unwilling to speak and risk his voice breaking entirely. Instead he allowed himself to be led to the washroom, holding back tears when he found bottles of sweet smelling soaps and hair cleansers on a small table beside a stool above a drain. A tub beside it all, shaped like a bowl but with a drain at the bottom and a water spout at the rim.
He looked to the blue woman, overwhelmed and dazed by the strength of his emotions.
Something in her softened at his lost expression. "Let me bath you, Master Link." She said, keeping her voice even, though her dark eyes were gentle. "Just until you learn how to do it yourself."
Link nodded. Quiet and trusting in his vulnerability.
She helped him undress. She made him sit on the stool as she gathered what she needed.
Her hands were so, so gentle as they brought a warm, wet towel over his dirtied, battered skin.
He nearly fell into a doze twice as she washed his hair three times until the suds came off white. He was only minimally aware of the strong (deceptively strong) hands that helped him into the tub. He nearly slumped into the side of the bowl, body completely lax within the warm, welcoming water.
He opened his eyes from one blink to the next and blankets (thick and soft, smelling of fresh soaps and linen) were being drawn over his shoulders. The pillow beneath him gave under the weight of his head, as did the mattress he laid upon.
Every part of him felt warm and soft and safe. He smelt like flowers and sweet nuts, his skin felt clean and supple under the tender caress of his nightclothes. The further dimming lights eased him further down into slumber.
"Rest well, Master Link. I will guard you as you sleep."
Link couldn't even bring himself to respond, lost as he was to the call to nothingness.
He was lost not long after.
"One day." The blue woman said softly, sitting beside the unconscious man with an amused smile. "I will teach you to identify sleeping oils before they reach you. But not tonight. For tonight you sleep. Tomorrow, you will learn to be wary."
She wiped her delicate finger tips across his relaxed forehead, a slight sheen left in their wake.
"Sweet dreams, Courageous One."
---
Link,
I apologize that I could not be there to greet you properly. However, after careful consideration I decided it would be safest for our paths to remain separate at this time.
Herein this text, you will find all relevant information I've amassed over the years regarding our world and the dangers within it. Including, but not limited to, the continued threat of the Yiga clan.
May you never have to make use of the less savory of this knowledge.
Yours truly,
AM
---
To the shadows I return.
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Dracula Mischaracterization Drinking Game
Sit down and watch the Dracula adaptation(s) of your choice, and take a drink anytime these common mischaracterizations occur.
Jonathan
Is combined with Renfield
Dies at the beginning
Is made into a generic male hero
Is a toxic partner to Mina
Barely has any presence at all
Never goes to Transylvania
Is made to be aggresive and "manly"
Mina
Is Dracula's love interest/reincarnated wife
Is indifferent to or hates Jonathan and/or Lucy
Is made into a one-note damsel in distress
Has none of her original intelligence
Is only there as "moral support" for the men
Is a prize to be won by the men
Is swapped with Lucy
Is married to someone other than Jonathan
Dies as a vampire or remains a vampire in the end
Dumps Jonathan for Dracula
Consented to the "Baptisim of Blood"
Jack
Is an old man/same age as Van Helsing
Is Mina's and/or Lucy's father
Isn't friends with Van Helsing or the rest of the Suitor Squad
Is the only present member of the Suitor Squad
Only there to be Lucy's doctor and has no emotional connection to her
Does all the research and work that Mina actually did in the original story
Van Helsing
Is way older or way younger than his original age
Is a badass action hero vampire hunter
Comes from/started a bloodline of famous vampire hunters
Is the only character other than Dracula from the book
Has a first name other than "Abraham"
Has supernatural powers
Is a woman/combined with Sister Agatha
Is the only one who knows Dracula is a vampire and has to prove it to everyone else
Is the one to kill Dracula
Is not Dutch in the slightest
Quincey
Is straight up nonexistent
Is combined with Arthur
Has so little relevancy he might as well not be there
Is British, or anything other than American/Texan
Is a shallow or douchey lover to Lucy
Has a futuristic descendent with more plot relevance than himself
Arthur
Is straight up nonexistent
Is combined with Jack, or Quincey, or Jonathan, or any combination of those
Doesn't contribute or is entirely absent in the staking vampire!Lucy scene
Is Lucy's or Mina's brother
Is a spoiled rich boy who barely contributes to the plot
Lucy
Is swapped/combined with Mina
Is Mina's sister
Is shallow/slutty/bitchy
Is a toxic friend to Mina/secretly hates her
Is framed by the narrative as deserving of her death at the hands of Dracula
Literally asked/invited Dracula to drain from her
Her plotline is ignored/never resolved
Is staked by someone other than Arthur
Is engaged/married to someone other than Arthur
Is actually canonically queer, but she still gets killed
Renfield
Is combined with Jonathan/goes to Transylvania instead of Jonathan
Is the secondary villain/straight up evil
Is way older or way younger than his original age
Remains loyal to Dracula throughout the whole story and never fights/turns on him
Never interacts with Mina
Is shown as "sane" at the beginning
Becomes a vampire at some point
The narrative tries to justify his mistreatment at the hands of Jack
Dracula
Is not "evil," just """misunderstood"""
Is actually the protagonist
His first name is Vlad
Appears and regularly interacts with the other characters throught the story
Is young/handsome/suave
Is here to "liberate" Mina from her "toxic"/"boring" husband
Is combined with Vlad the Impaler/some historical figure
Is obsessed with Mina specifically
Has all queer undertones stripped from him
Is not Romanian/his actor makes no attempt to sound Romanian
Is basically just a characature of Bela Logosi
Only kills the characters who "deserved" to die
Is hurt/killed by exposure to sunlight
Is Van Helsing's arch nemesis
Is friends with Frankenstein's monster
Never turns into anything other than a bat
#dracula daily#dracula#re: dracula#dracula adaptations#dracula daily spoilers#re: dracula spoilers#drinking game#jonathan harker#mina harker#mina murray#jack seward#john seward#abraham van helsing#arthur holmwood#quincey morris#lucy westenra#rm renfield#renfield#count dracula
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Accidentally Mrs. Bravo {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}
Rating: Explicit
Word count: 24.8k
Warnings: Drug use, alcohol, dub con due to spiked drinks, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal fingering, Dieter being a sub, face sitting, period oral (Dieter has his red wings), hand jobs, angst, Dieter being a sassy asshole.
Comments: Being PR for Dieter Bravo is a nightmare, the idea of him going to Vegas for a birthday weekend absolutely horrifies you. Even more when it’s suggest you go with him. It’s going to be horrible, you just know it. Especially when you wake up married to him.
Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers
**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.
|| MasterList ||
Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.
When Dieter told his team he wanted to go to Vegas for his birthday, you had told him no. As his PR manager, Dieter and Vegas are a bad combination. God knows what he’d do when fuelled by drugs, gambling and endless booze. Surrounded by people with camera phones and men and women who would want him to fuck them. Maybe get knocked up. You get a headache even thinking about it. When his manager suggested you accompany him to make sure he says out of trouble, you protested and put your foot down, telling her that you hate Vegas. It’s a cesspool of bad decisions. However, the next thing you know you’re on a private jet going to Vegas while Dieter snorts coke off of the mahogany table while his “friends” drink champagne. You know this is going to end in Disaster.
Inhaling deeply, Dieter throws his head back, letting the endorphins rush through his system and he lets out a loud whoop. “Fuck, that’s some good shit!” He crows and looks around, spotting you sitting in one of the plush leather chairs across from the couch with a sour look on your face. “You want some?” He asks, offering you the one hundred dollar bill he had rolled up to snort the coke with. “Maybe it’ll get that stick out of your ass.”
You watch him with disgust. You might have been hired to handle his PR but the man makes it a never ending job. Being caught with prostitutes, arrested with coke possession and a general bad attitude with paps has made you have many a sleepless night. This trip will be no exception. “No, thank you.” You respond coolly, shaking your head. “The stick will remain firmly in my ass for the entire trip.”
Dieter chuckles, pulling his hand back, “I bet you like having something up your ass.” His joke makes you roll your eyes and you cross your legs, looking out of the window.
Huffing at your lack of appreciation for his joke, Dieter passes the rolled up bill off to one of his friends and frowns at you. “Why are you here if you don’t want to have fun?” He whines. “You should have stayed in L.A.” He doesn’t want you here. All you do is complain about his behavior, his manners, the way he dresses. He wants to relax and have fun, not be nagged to death by a fish wife. If he wanted that, he would get married.
“I don’t want to be here but your team - including me - thought it would be best to come with you to control what happens. The last thing you need with your new movie coming out is a mug shot.” You tell him. “Besides, I have fun. My fun just doesn’t involve doing copious amounts of drugs, having sex with prostitutes, and drinking more tequila than what’s available in the entire country of Mexico.”
Dieter scoffs, “what do you do to have fun? Read?” His words make you bristle, swallowing down your retort that reading would be better than spending him in his company.
“Just behave yourself and we won’t have any issues.” You finally respond, glancing around at his “friends.” All people who are here because of what he can give them, not because they like him as a person.
“I always behave myself.” Dieter gives you an offended look and shakes his head. “Just because I don’t adhere to your version of behaving doesn’t mean I don’t behave.” He chuckles and looks around the plane. “Haven’t you ever just had fun? Fuck what they say or what they think? Just be yourself?”
You try not to react, but his words hit. You went to college for media and you ended up getting a job right out of college with a PR firm. You needed to prove yourself and that meant working all hours. You’ve never really let your hair down and done whatever you wanted. You huff, shaking your head at him. “You don’t behave. You make my job so much harder. I’d hate to see you when you’re not behaving.”
“Have I flashed my dick at the paps?” He asks you, titling his head and smiling in amusement at the mental image of doing just that. “Or come up with some love child with a prostitute? Because I’ve fucked a lot of women. It could have happened.”
God, you hate this man. He’s so self indulgent it infuriates you. He does what he wants, when he wants. Damn the consequences. “Just try to not let either of those things happen during this weekend.” You reach for your phone, deciding to check your emails while he continues to indulge.
When the pilot announces the plane will be landing soon, you steel yourself for what will no doubt be an exhausting weekend. The plane lands and the limos are waiting on the tarmac. Dieter’s assistant - who luckily has the weekend off - had arranged every detail even down to the baggie of coke waiting for him in the limo.
“Vegas baby!” Dieter squints and nods his head so that his sunglasses flip down onto his nose and he pushes them up. He wraps his arm around the girl he had met just this morning who had said she would be willing to go to Vegas with him. He smirks as he looks back at you, “try to keep up.” He tells you before he and the bottle blonde he’s wrapped around stumble down the plane’s stairs onto the tarmac.
You scoff in disgust, watching him squeeze the woman’s ass when she gets into the limo. He’s wearing sunglasses and it’s fucking nighttime. What an asshole. You get into the limo, sitting in the far corner and he has already found the baggie. This is going to be the weekend from hell. The woman kisses his jaw and he manages to snort some coke off of her tits when she pushes them together. “Classy.” You mutter, ignoring the entourage.
Dieter doesn’t even pay attention to you, too busy motor boating Cindy, or was it Kathy? He doesn’t know, nor does he really care. He just wants to get to the hotel and get another bottle of champagne. “We should hit the club!” Someone suggests, and like the easily distracted creature that he is, Dieter latches onto the idea.
“A strip club!” He agrees happily.
You shake your head. “No. No strip clubs.” You put your foot down. You’re not going into a strip club with Dieter Bravo.
“It’s my fucking birthday. We are doing what I want.” Dieter growls, pissed that you’re doing everything you can to ruin his birthday weekend.
“No strip clubs.” You repeat, crossing your arms.
“Go sit at the hotel if you don’t want to go.” Dieter huffs. “This limo is going to a strip club.” He lowers the glass between the back and the driver and grins. “Hey Buddy, take us to the best fucking strip club in Vegas. ‘Kay?”
You huff, knowing you have no choice. You can’t leave him be. He would run riot in Vegas. “You don’t want to change?” You ask, “or check into the hotel?” You frown, knowing he’d requested the best suite at Caesars.
“No. I want to get this party started. We can change later.” Dieter declares.
“Later? It’s nine.” You check your watch.
“It’s early for Vegas.” Dieter shrugs and you sigh, knowing you have no choice.
Fueled by cocaine and champagne, Dieter is the first out of the limo when it comes to a stop. He likes the look of the place, the sound of the music is loud but he doesn’t care. Soon enough he will be watching women dance. “Hey, are there men here too?” He asks, suddenly curious. That would be cool. A strip club that caters to men and women, or people who like men and women.
You exhale deeply, trying to remain calm as you follow the group into the strip club. It's loud and full of bodies - both men and women. Some partly dressed, some naked as the day they were born. A half naked man walks past and you fluster when he winks at you. You have never been somewhere like this and you're no virgin but your life has been pretty vanilla.
It’s nothing but VIP for the group. Even if Dieter wasn’t recognized, a few folded up bills passed to the server assures that you are quickly seated at the best tables. “Uh huh, I want a dance from her and him.” Dieter lowers his glasses and leers over the rim with a grin on his face as a pair of dancers walk past. He turns to watch the rear view and catches sight of you. “I’ll even buy you a dance.” He tells you, blowing you a kiss. “Get you to loosen up. Tuck a few bills in a G-string.”
You roll your eyes and have a sip of the glass of champagne. You won’t get drunk but a glass or two will help you deal with this asshole all night. Some people ask why you work for him if you can’t stand him but honestly, he’s a PR nightmare and you always said you wanted the hardest cases for a challenge. He’s definitely been the hardest. “Gee thanks.” You respond sarcastically.
The woman Dieter brought along is a little offended that he wants a dance and she slaps his chest ‘playfully’ and says “what about a private dance from me baby?”
Dieter rolls his eyes and tugs her close. “Of course I want a private dance from you.” He coos, leaning in and presses his lips to her neck and makes her giggle when he playfully bites her. “Later. We’ll have our own little strip tease.” Later on he has no clue what he will be doing, but she’s fun and he will hopefully get lucky. He’s getting laid for his birthday. Or at least a blowjob. “Don’t you want to shove some bills into his g-string?”
You huff, deciding you might as well do something fun for once. You make a grabby gesture and he grins, handing you the bills. You call a man over and he saunters, moving his hips and he holds out his hand. “Oh, I don’t want a dance. Here, take this. Put it towards your education or your rent or food or whatever. Just - take it.” You shove the notes into the man’s hand who is shocked.
Pouting, Dieter rolls his eyes. “God, you are no fun.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest and shoots you a glare. “He was hot, he might have enjoyed the stick in your ass.” He’s pissed that he didn’t get to see the man dance, or see if you would fluster and loosen up. He doesn’t care about the money. It’s about having a good time.
You scoff, “you act like he wouldn’t have been nice to me because he’s getting money. All of these people are here because of your money, Bravo. They aren’t your friends, they want your wallet. Especially her.” You point to Cindy, Kathy, whatever her fucking name is. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You huff, standing up and grabbing your purse. You need to calm down and compose yourself if you’re gonna survive an entire weekend of this.
For a split second, Dieter’s face falls, hurt shining in his eyes before he shakes himself slightly and blinks it away. You’re just pissed that you’re here instead of locked away in your depressing house with whatever boring ass book you were going to read. The waitress comes over and he orders a magnum of champagne and glasses for everyone, including you. You’re at his birthday weekend, you are damn well going to celebrate,
When you come back from the bathroom, there’s champagne flowing and you see the glass waiting there for you. You shouldn’t drink it but you have to. You won’t endure tonight without a drink or two…or maybe three. You sit down and pick up the glass, downing it. You choke on the bubbles and Dieter cheers, clapping his hands. “Now we are fucking talking.”
Little do either of you know that one of his entourage snuck something into your drinks. You sway slightly, a giggle escaping your lips. “Wow. That champagne was so fucking good.” You feel tingly, like you’ve had ten drinks instead of two.
“So you are human.” Dieter gets up and moves around Cindy or Kathy and wedges himself in beside you. His grin is wide and happy and he clinks his glass against yours and takes a large sip of his bubbly. “It’s nice to see it. I didn’t think that I would ever witness you ‘let down your hair’.”
“Don’t get too excited, Bravo. The night is young and I am - I am supposed to be watching over you.” You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips. You lean against Dieter, all hatred for him seems to have disappeared and you have another glass of champagne. “Happy birthday Bravo.” You cheer, suddenly excited for the night.
****
You groan at the bright light that shines into the room, your head is throbbing and you can barely open your eyes. Fuck, what happened last night. You don’t remember a thing. You wince, realizing you must’ve drank way too much, and you shift, turning over away from the light and you hit something. Without opening your eyes, you reach out, gasping at the feel of hot skin and you freak out, opening your eyes. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” You panic, seeing the familiar tattoos on your boss’s back.
Dieter groans, hearing someone’s panicked voice and shifts, turning over and covering his eyes with his hand. “Throw up on the floor.” He grunts, not wanting to lay in puke if whoever he took to bed is about to get sick. He doesn’t open his eyes and groans again, wanting to go back to sleep.
You slap him, “wake the fuck up!” You slap him again. Shrieking when you realize you’re naked. “You need to wake up now, Dieter. I- we are in bed and - and naked.” You look at him and frown when you see the gold band on his hand. “What the fuck is that?” You reach for his hand, pulling it away from his face and that’s when you see the diamond in your left hand. “What the fuck? Wake up!” You slap him with his own hand.
“Ow! Ow! What the fuck?” Dieter bolts upright and throws his hands up defensively. His eyes are wide and he looks at you like you are crazy. “What the fuck are you doing? I’m sleeping!” He isn’t questioning why you are naked and in his bed. He doesn’t even really care, but dammit, he was enjoying the sleep. And you rudely interrupted it.
“Sleep? How can you sleep when a) we are in bed naked together, and b) WE ARE APPARENTLY FUCKING MARRIED!” You shout, grabbing his hand to show him the new gold band and holding up your own hand. “Oh God. This is - it’s gotta be a joke, right? We aren’t married. We just bought rings.” You try to reason, knowing no matter how drunk you could be, you wouldn’t marry him.
His eyes widen and he looks at your hand and then back at your face for a moment before he busts out laughing. “Oh good job!” He crows. “You had me for a second. And showing me your tits to sell it? Genius.” He chuckles and looks around, spotting a glass of champagne on the nightstand and twists around to grab it, swallowing down the flat champagne. It’s disgusting, but his mouth is dry and he needs something. He pulls the glass down from his lips. “You should stop the bullshit babysitting and act, sweetheart.”
You narrow your eyes at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?" You growl, pissed that he thinks this is some kind of joke. "Do you think this is funny? Bravo, this is - oh God. I think I'm gonna be sick." You scramble to get off of the bed, racing to the bathroom and you kneel down just as you throw up. You gag and cough until you're done before you slump down on the floor, pressing your forehead against the cool porcelain. You inhale deeply and look down, eyes widening at the crusted liquid on your inner thighs. "Oh shit." You hiss, reaching between your legs. You stand up, rinsing your mouth, and stumble back into the bedroom. "We had sex. We had sex." You're in shock.
“What?” Dieter frowns, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t have sex with me. Believe me, I’ve asked.” He had asked you the first day he met you and you had scoffed and acted revolted so he had never asked again. Although you’re standing in front of him naked, and that is something he thought he would never see. “You just probably spilled something on yourself.” He rolls his eyes and flops back onto the bed.
You shake your head, tears in your eyes that he doesn't believe you. "I know what dried cum looks like, you asshole." You spit and search around the room for your phone, knowing you need to find out what happened. When you find your phone, you see the notifications. Opening the first one, your eyes widen. "Oh shit." You read the headline, "Oscar Winning Dieter Bravo Gets Married in Vegas." You scroll until you see the video. "Dieter." You take the phone over to him, hitting play.
A picture is worth a thousand words and apparently a video is worth a million. You and Dieter are obviously intoxicated and grinning happily at each other. In the video, he grabs your ass and hauls you closer while the two of you kiss, tongues tangled and the group that Dieter had brought is cheering and clapping. Pulling away, Dieter looks around. “Now, I’m going to fuck my wife!” He yells out, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the limo - presumably to take you back to the hotel. “Shit.” Dieter groans, knowing his manager is going to kill him. You probably didn’t sign a prenup.
You cannot believe this. You don't know what happened. You vowed you wouldn't have more than a few drinks, how the hell did you end up blacked out and married to Dieter? "Shit." You echo, wondering what the hell you're gonna do. That video is all over the internet and you know that this press is going to be impossible to tamper. The phone rings and you groan at the name of Dieter's manager flashing on the screen. "Hey Alex. How are you?" You ask, trying to act nonchalant.
"How am I? How am I? You fucking got married to Dieter. You were hired for PR and you orchestrate the biggest fuck up in the history of fuck ups."
“Hey.” Dieter huffs, hearing her screech over the phone. “I wouldn’t say it’s the biggest fuck up.” He throws the covers off his body, obviously not going to be able to go back to sleep and climbs out of the bed, stretching with a groan. Completely unconcerned with his nudity as he stumbles to the bathroom to take a piss.
You watch him walk into the bathroom, jaw dropping, and you realize now why there's an ache between your thighs. "Not a fuck up? You got married! To your PR manager. Jesus Christ Dieter. You need to fix this." Alex says your name and you bite your lip, unsure of how you can fix it.
"I- I don't know - he can't just say it was a joke. There's..." You rack your brain. "There's one way but he's gonna hate it." You look towards the bathroom.
"I don't care. Just fucking fix it. He has a new movie coming out and we don't need the studio on our ass because he has fucked up - because you have fucked up." She hangs up and you stare at the phone, wanting to cry at this entire fucked up situation.
The best thing about Dieter is his ability to go with the flow. Or at least he thinks he does. Often he’s just too strung out, but right now, he’s finding this hilarious. “Just call me Brittany.” He chuckles into the mirror before he groans and reaches for the bottle of antacids that he keeps in his bag, along with his illicit drugs. Getting older sucks. He pops four into his mouth and chews them, reaching down and scratching his balls while he tries to remember if he did anything else last night besides marrying you. That can’t have been the worst thing he did.
You know what the solution is but fuck, you hate it, you really fucking hate it. You grab the shirt he was wearing, throwing it on without care, and you walk towards the bathroom. "We can't get an annulment." You declare. Dieter frowns, turning to look at you, his hand still scratching his balls.
"Why not?" He huffs.
"We have to stay married. If we get an annulment now, it will be recorded and the press will get hold of it and it will be a bigger story than it already is. If we stay married, even on paper, for six months or so, we can get an annulment and no one will even care to look because it will be old news."
“We can just say it was an accident.” Dieter shrugs and smirks. “What happens in Vegas and all that.” You shake your head.
“No Dieter, not what happens in Vegas. That’s the problem!” You shriek and he winces at how loud you get.
“Jesus, there’s the stick again.” He grumbles and sighs, trying to ignore the fact that you are wearing his t-shirt. “I don’t want to be married to you,” he whines. “Your going to tell me I can’t have sex while we’re married.”
“I won’t be married to you in any way other than a piece of paper. We are going to have to suffer each other for the time being. Once we get the annulment, you will give me a reference so I can move on from this shit show. You - you can fuck whoever you want but you won’t be doing it in public. We need people to think we are really married. You need to act like we are actually married, not just a terrible mistake. You need this to work otherwise you will be a laughing stock. With the cocaine possession and DUI, you can’t afford another fuck up.” You warn him, knowing that the last thing you want is to be married to him but you need this job more, you need that reference more than anything.
Dieter huffs, knowing that you aren’t wrong, but it’s all bullshit. “What the fuck, you don’t do your job and I’m the one punished?” He gripes, hating the entire idea. Especially where you said you would be leaving him. He hates when people leave him. “How did Ms. ‘Holier than thou, stick in her ass’ manage to get married to a man she can’t stand in a Vegas wedding chapel?”
“I don’t - I don’t remember anything past going to the bathroom in the strip club. I - I didn’t do my job? How dare you! I tried to prevent something like this but you bought me the drink and it was poured and - oh fuck. Do you think- do you think our drinks were spiked? Oh fuck. That explains it. One of your goddamn gold digging groupies spiked my drink and now I’m - oh God. I knew I shouldn’t have come along. Oh fuck. Dieter - we got married and had sex and I don’t even remember.” You freak out again, hands shaking as the weight of this settles on you.
Dieter frowns, while he loves using drugs and thinks that you could personally benefit from the occasional snort or toke, he doesn’t like the idea of being unknowingly drugged. Again, completely unconcerned with the fact that he’s naked, he walks over to you. “It’s okay.” He hesitates to reach for you, but then he does, pulling you against him and hugging you. Only slightly awkwardly considering you are just wearing his shirt and it is morning. “I’m sure there’s a video of it.”
You are so distraught that you actually wrap your arms around him and allow him to comfort you. Only for a moment until you realize that you’re married to him. “We need a game plan. What’s done is done and you don’t need anymore bad press so we gotta stay married.” You declare as you pull away from his embrace.
Dieter groans, hating that you keep saying that. Because he knows that means that his fun in Vegas will be over if you have your way. “Just lay low.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns around, wanting to look for the pills that he had yesterday. He spots a silk robe and snatches it up, throwing it on but not bothering to close it. “It’s not a big deal.”
“It’s not - we got married. It is a big deal. It’s a massive deal. I never - I wanted to get married and not get divorced. I wanted to be in love with the man I married. Not - not just - this mess. Oh God. My parents are going to kill me. Everyone expects you to be this reckless but not me. I’m the sensible one. Always have been. I’ve always had to be good.” You admit, sitting on the edge of the bed.
Dieter turns around and stares at you, amazed that you are so…worried about what your parents are going to say. “You’re legal, right?” He demands, squinting at you as if he could tell your age by staring at you. “Worried about your parents? Why? What are they doing for you? Are they supporting you?”
“Of fucking course I’m legal, you idiot.” You huff, “my parents love me and I love them and they are going to be mad when I tell them I accidentally got married in Vegas to a drug addicted actor.” They had told you that moving to L.A was a bad idea and now you’re inclined to agree.
“Who cares what they think?” Dieter scoffs, finally finding the baggie.
“Who cares? I do!” You choke, tears stinging in your eyes again.
“Then just don’t tell them.” Dieter says, like it’s the easiest thing to do.
You shake your head, “I can’t lie to my parents. I can’t do it.” You watch Dieter roll his eyes.
“You can. It’s easy. Just tell them you got married for real and they’ll be disappointed when their favorite son-in-law asks for a divorce in six months time but hey, what can you do? It’s fucking life.” You watch him, knowing your parents are gonna wonder what you say in him compared to your clean cut exes.
Dieter pops three of the pills in his mouth and offers you a couple. “Want some?” He asks and you scoff, shaking your head and looking at him in disgust.
“Shit like that got us into this situation!”
He rolls his eyes and closes the bag, shoving it in the pocket of the ridiculous pink silk robe. It only comes down to his thigh and doesn’t cover anything since he hasn’t closed it. “Just release a statement saying that after spending a night with you in Vegas, I realized that I couldn’t deny my feelings anymore.” He tells you. “Or say that we’ve been secretly dating for months and just decided to go for it.”
You are surprised he’s suddenly agreed to go along with it. Your eyes dip down to his impressive - even flaccid - cock and realize why he’s so obnoxious. “I think the secretly dating one is the way to go but you have been out with most of the men and women in L.A in the past six months. We gotta explain that.” Your mind whirls with the best way to cover this up. Your PR mind taking over to try and distract you from the panic that you also had sex with your boss. One thing at a time.
He shrugs, obviously unconcerned about the details. “We’re poly.” He chuckles, knowing that with as stiff as you are, there is no way that you would ever be in situation like that. “Or that it was just a front. Throw people off.” He grunts and scratches his belly. “I’m hungry, are you hungry? You should order us breakfast.” He switches topics suddenly and looks at you expectantly. “Doesn’t the wife take care of her hubby?” He teases with a smirk.
You huff, walking over to the phone and you grab the room service menu. “Aren’t husbands supposed to stop their stupid fake friends from roofieing their staff?” You retort, glad that you only have one more day of this before you return to L.A and you can get away from him. His assistant can run around doing this shit. You order a healthy breakfast, making him pout, and you smirk, “I’m looking after you baby.”
“Look after me by ordering bacon.” Dieter grumbles and sighs when you just lift a brow. “I’m going to shower.” Despite the rumors, he did shower. He just dresses like he doesn’t give a fuck. Because he doesn’t. Shooting you a grin, he waggles his brows. “Wanna join?”
You wrinkle your nose, “absolutely not. You haven’t even asked if I’m on birth control. We had sex last night. I take the pill, by the way.” You inform him and he wrinkles his nose.
“Too many chemicals. You should just check your basal temperature.”
You shake your head, “how have you not knocked someone up yet?”
Dieter shrugs, not bothering to tell you that he normally does use a condom. Doubting you would believe him. “Guess I’m just lucky like that.” He eyes you again, seeing the streaks of his dried cum on the inside of your thighs. “You wanna take a bath while I shower then? I know you want to clean away the evidence.” His tone is oddly hurt and he purses his lips at you.
You nod, deciding that a bath sounds nice, especially since your body aches. God knows what he did to you last night. You follow him to the bathroom, bending over to turn on the bath and there’s a flash in your mind of Dieter bending you over the bath, his cock buried deep inside of you. You gasp, making Dieter look over at you.
“You okay?” He frowns and you nod.
“I’m fine.” You choke, grabbing the bubble bath.
Rolling his eyes, Dieter leans into the marbled shower to turn on the water. It wouldn’t be so horrible being married to you for a few months if you weren’t such a stick in the mud. You’re hot, he had been grateful that he was battling a headache when you were standing in front of him naked. Or maybe he had too much sex last night. Maybe that was the reason he wasn’t popping a boner at the sight of your tits and bare cunt, because he likes the look of you. “I guess we go home this afternoon?” He asks with a pout. It’s his fucking birthday today and he’s gotten yelled at, scolded and there is zero chance of getting a birthday blowjob from you.
You ponder it for a moment, realizing that you can’t just go home. It would look bad. You need to be seen out and about. “We can’t go home today. It’s best if we go out. We are gonna get swarmed but the public needs to see you and your wife out and happy.I’m sure even you can manage to act like you actually love me. Happy birthday by the way.” You offer him a smile despite being so mad that the thing you tried to prevent had happened.
Your smile throws him for a loop and he just stares at you for a moment. It might be the second time that you’ve smiled at him, a nice smile, since you’ve become his PR person. “Thanks.” He swallows back the urge to make a comment, something dirty that you wouldn’t appreciate and just nods. “Okay. Be seen. We can do that.” He shrugs. “What would be good?”
You test the water before stripping off his shirt to sink into the hot water, a moan escaping your lips at how good it feels on your aching muscles. “I’m thinking we go to dinner. No entourage. Then we go dancing. We gotta appear close and I doubt you’d be spending your birthday apart from your wife. This is just until the news has died down so we can divorce.”
He rolls his eyes at how boring that sounds. No doubt dinner will be talking about how much of a fuck up you think he is and the dancing will be some sedate oldies music where no one there is under one hundred. He shrugs off the robe and steps under the shower spray with a groan. “Sounds great, grandma.” He quips. “Senior specials? Gotta get there before five.”
It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “No. I’ll book dinner for nine and then we can go to a club. Not a strip club.” You huff, swaying your hands through the water. His sarcasm has pissed you off since it’s technically his fault that you are in this situation. “I gotta go out and get something nice for a club since everything I brought with me is for a nice dinner and not the club. I guess I gotta dress the part of Mrs. Bravo.” The words make you feel sick but what can you do? You need to keep your job and the way to do that is to create the narrative that you’re in love with the man. As disgusting as he can be, you hope you find something good in him. He’s selfish, indulgent, and completely self obsessed. Traits you would never want to marry, yet here you are.
“Got it, you don’t like strip clubs.” He feels guilty, something that he hates feeling. He doesn’t know why, he didn’t spike your drink, but you are stuck with him because of it. “Take my card when you go shopping.” He tells you, shampoo in his hair. “This is my fault, so you should at least be able to buy what you want until it’s done.”
You want to argue and say you can afford your own things but honestly, you deserve something nice since this wasn't your fault. It was his fake fucking friends. You wash up and wash your face, standing up from the bath just as he steps out of the shower, reaching for the towel. He really is sexy in that Oscar the Grouch kind of way.
Water droplets glisten on his chest as he wraps his towel around his waist, covering himself for the first time since he got out of bed. “You’ll need to stay in this suite too.” Dieter reminds you. “The paps watch the hotel rooms.”
You huff, knowing he’s right, and you wrap the towel around yourself. It’s hard to resist licking up that drop of water going down to his - your mind flashes with an image of you doing just that and you stumble. “Shit.” You hiss and he reaches out to steady you, causing you to pull your arm away. “Do you- do you remember anything from last night?” You ask, curious if he’s having these flashes too.
“I-“ Dieter bites his lip and almost lies to you. “I remember most of last night.” He admits quietly. He’s done so many drugs that some things just kind of stick with him. Especially sex. He knows you will probably be mad at him, since you were drugged too, but he didn’t know that you weren’t just drunk.
Your eyes widen but you’re not surprised. He’s done more drugs than most of the population of California combined. He must have some kind of immunity. “Tell me.” You demand. “Tell me everything.”
“I don’t know.” He swallows harshly and gives a small shrug. “We came back to the hotel, but we started in the limo.” He flashes you a grin. “You demanded I eat you out. Told me that you hadn’t cum on someone’s face in a long time.”
You fluster, unable to believe you said that. “And did you?” You ask breathlessly.
“Of course I fucking did.” He scoffs, “I practically laid on the floor of the limo so I could eat you out. You were bucking against my face like a goddamn bronco.”
Your cheeks burn and you need to know more despite it being mortifying. “Then what?”
He smirks, amused with how flustered you look. “Then we came back here and had sex. In the bathtub, in the bed, in front of the windows.” He chuckles. “You liked that.”
There’s a flash in your mind of him pushing you up against the window, your cheek smashed against it as he rammed into you. “Oh God.” You choke, unable to believe that he fucked you like that. “No wonder I ache. God, thank God I’m on birth control.” You grip the towel tighter around your body, even though it’s ridiculous now he’s seen every inch of your body.
He hums, not mentioning how you had moaned about how good he felt. He’ll save that for himself. “You wanted it again, wanted to ride but you were so tired I stopped you.” You had pouted at him until he promised you could ride him in the morning. Although it seems like that won’t happen. “You can wear some of my clothes until you get your bags to the room.”
You want the floor to open and swallow you when he says that you wanted to ride him. It’s true you haven’t had sex for - who the fuck knows how long it has been. You can’t even remember. You had seen Dieter naked and now you can see why you wanted to ride his cock. Now you’re sober, you couldn’t do it because it’s Dieter Bravo. “Okay. I will wear some of your clothes then go get my things then I’m gonna go shopping and you are gonna stay here and call your manager to apologize.” You tell him, striding out of the bathroom and you walk into the closet to his suitcase, wrinkling your nose at the lack of options that don’t involve holes or stains. “You need new clothes too.” You tell him, holding up his tatty sweats.
Shrugging, he doesn’t understand why you are upset about his clothes. “So buy me some.” He offers. “Hate shopping. Never do it. All that was stuff I acquired.” Half the time it’s stuff that comes from lovers or once expensive clothes that he wears to death when he’s given them after modeling. “But don’t throw them away.” He huffs, a snatching shirt you had picked up away from you. “They’re comfortable.”
“Comfortable can look good too. These are - what the hell do you do in these clothes?” You pick up a tatty shirt and pull it over your head. “What’s your size? I’ll buy you some clothes. We can’t - I won’t be married to a homeless millionaire.” You scoff, “I promise you’ll be comfortable but you need to look good. Your entire image is your income.”
Dieter snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’m still getting worked, aren’t I?” He asks before he drops his towel and starts rooting around for a pair of boxers. “I need to look good on camera. And the makeup and hair people accomplish that.” He honestly doesn’t care about how he looks off set, comfort is his goal. He works long hours when he’s shooting a movie and it’s always uncomfortable. “I honestly don’t- oh! The last movie.” He rattles off sizes. “That’s what the tailor told me when I was fitted.”
“Okay. I’ll get you some new clothes. I just - I know you think I hate you but I want you to be successful. I want you to look good and be loved by your fans. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted and that’s my job. To make you look good. For people to love you. I’ll get you some new clothes and some new shoes. Those Tom’s…they aren’t it.”
“Hey….” Dieter pouts and looks down at the Tom’s he had pushed his feet into after sliding on his boxers. “I left my crocs at home.” He argues. “I could have worn them.” He would have too, he doesn’t care. Although he’s surprised by your speech about wanting things for him. Besides last night, you always seem to look at him like gum on the bottom of your shoe.
“God no. I will get my stuff and then we are going shopping. You’re coming with me so we can get you some new stuff.” You tell him, not taking no for an answer. “Let’s get my stuff and then we can go get started.” You shove your feet into your shoes, grateful you didn’t wear heels last night.
“I hate shopping.” He whines, huffing dramatically. “I hate it. It’s boring and people are always assholes.” He hates having to make small talk and all the fucking sales associates thought if they talked to him that he would buy more shit.
You roll your eyes, “tough shit. Your wife wants to go shopping.” You quip and make your way out of the closet to grab your purse, intent on going to your room to change. “Breakfast should be arriving soon. I’ll get my stuff, we can eat, and then we will go out.”
“Bossy.” The fact that his cock twitches doesn’t surprise him, he likes following orders sometimes. “Fine, we’ll go shopping.” He calls out as you walk out of the closet. “But I’m going to complain the whole time!”
****
You hold up the shirt against him, liking the purple against his skin tone. “I like this. What do you think?” You ask, knowing that people are watching you and taking photos but there’s nothing you can do.
“It’s fine.” Dieter huffs, hating the actual shopping more than the color or style of the shirt. He always feels like a rat in a glass cage when he goes shopping. “If you like it, get it. I’ll wear whatever.”
You huff back, hating his lack of enthusiasm and you know it’s because he hates being with you. “We will get it and then we can go, okay hon?” You promise, knowing he’s uncomfortable. “I won’t make you endure this anymore.” You take the shirt over to the cashier and you feel guilty when you see the total. “I’m sorry. Oh God. I didn’t know - I can put stuff back.” You tell him, picking up the clothes.
Dieter scoffs and takes the clothes out of your hand and sets them back down on the counter. “You want it, don’t you?” He asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his little card case. The black card is quickly snatched up by the sales associate. “Besides, you told me you wanted to go shopping. Shopping means buying things.”
“Yeah but -” Your protest is cut short as the sales associate starts to fold the clothes. All of these are for Dieter. Yours are already on the way to the hotel. “I promise you I’ll pay you back.” You vow and he shakes his head. Dieter spends more than this a week on coke.
“Anything to make you happy dear.” He sasses and you playfully slap him, a little too hard but you don’t want to look like you’re not flirtatious with the sales associate there.
“Happy wife happy life.” You quip.
Dieter rolls his eyes and shoots the clerk a grin. “She’s already figured it out.” He tells them. “I just go along to get along.” He can almost say it with a straight face, but he looks over at you and shoots you a playful wink. “As long as you model the clothes you bought, or let me throw them on the floor, we’re good, baby.” He takes the opportunity to slide his hand down your back and squeeze your ass.
You want to be disgusted but you’ve had more flashes in your mind about how he fucked you and it’s beyond anything you could imagine. So sexy and intense. You find yourself being attracted to him and it’s so dangerous. You’re supposed to hate him, hate how he’s a PR nightmare, one that you’ve now gotten involved in, but you just want him to squeeze your ass again.
His grin gets wider when you don’t gasp and he leans in to kiss your cheek, making sure he drops another kiss right at the corner of your mouth. You’re a little looser than you were last night when the plane landed and he likes that. After your champagne at the strip club, he had ditched Cindy or whatever her fucking name was and it had been all about you. Not that what’s her name minded, she had latched onto some IG model that was there.
You can't stop the shiver that runs through your body and you hope he thinks it's from disgust. "Thank you." You tell the sales associate who promises to take your purchases back to your hotel room. You hold Dieter's hand as you walk back to your hotel. "Gotta let people take photos." You murmur, realizing how many people recognize him and you feel terrible that this is his life every day.
“I know.” He keeps his voice down, but he squeezes your hand. “That's why I hate shopping. The stores turn into a giant fucking fish bowl.” He’s feeling a little jittery, wishing you had let him take something before you left the hotel. But you had said you wanted people to see him happy and sober. Dieter didn’t mention that no one had seen him like that.
You notice how anxious he is and you feel awful for forcing him out like this. You can’t imagine being recognized like this. To be constantly under the public eye. You can understand why he finds solace in the drugs. “It’s okay. Don’t pay attention to them. You’re okay sweetheart. We are going back to the room.” You promise, feeling his hand shake in yours.
He grips your hand a little tighter and looks over at you, almost pathetically grateful that you are here. “Now you know why I’m normally baked.” He quips with a crooked grin.
You feel sorry for him, finally recognizing why he doesn’t dress nicer or go out or be sober. You can’t imagine the stress he must have even going out to the grocery store. You are swift to get him back into the hotel but you enter the elevator and what appears to be several young women all gasp when you enter. “Oh my God it’s Dieter Bravo.” One of them announces and you find yourself defensive when they start to take selfies without even asking.
“Hey. Can you not just take his photo? You could at least ask.” You huff and one of the women points at you.
“You’re his beard.” She declares.
“His what?” You narrow your eyes.
“He’s actually with a man but you are his cover up so female fans think he’s still an option. It’s okay honey, we all know you’re not his type anyway. He likes them looking like supermodels. You’re…average.” She drags her eyes down your body and you feel every insecurity you’ve tried to overcome rush back over you.
“Hey.” Dieter scowls and shakes his head, pushing the outstretched hands with phones away and reaches for you to tug you close to his side. “How about you not talk about my wife like that?” He demands. “Have I been with men? Yep, not a secret.”
Dieter has never cared how he was perceived, he was too self absorbed for that, but he’d be damned if someone was going to insult his fake marriage. “And your logic makes zero fucking sense. I like men, but then I like women who look like supermodels, so she isn’t good enough?” He rolls his eyes and smirks. “Be jealous all you want but don’t be a bitch to her. And you can swing by the hotel room to hear how unattractive I find her later.”
You can’t deny that you are turned on by his display. His defense of you is sexy and you can’t stop the smirk appearing on your lips as the woman is shocked, blinking several times until her friends usher her off of the elevator when it arrives on their floor. “Thank you.” You tell him, “you didn’t have to do that.”
“Husbands protect their wives, right?“ he likes the way that your hand is on his chest, the admiration in your eyes appealing. It’s real, unlike a lot of the shit he gets. “Besides, they are fucking insane. You aren’t average, your fucking gorgeous.”
You fluster, caressing his chest before stepping away. You can’t get involved with him, this is a PR disaster to begin with, let alone getting actual emotions involved. He’s more than what you thought he was. “Thank you. You- you aren’t too bad yourself.” You tell him just as the elevator doors open and you walk to his suite.
He snorts, appreciating the sass and his eyes are glued to your ass as you walk. The maid has come while the two of you are gone and the suite is nice and tidy. “So, I guess we need to talk about what’s going to happen when we go back to L.A.” he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want you lecturing him when the two of you had such a good moment.
You sigh, knowing he’s not gonna like your response. “We need to live together. Just until we divorce. The paps might catch me leaving my home or not being in your home. It will raise questions and we need people to think we are together and stop questioning…like that woman did. We need to - to make this work and when we divorce, you can tell everyone that I’m the evil woman that broke your heart so you can get all the attention and hopefully your next role.”
Dieter shakes his head. “No,” he frowns at the idea of what that would do to your career. “We’ll come up with something better than that.” He insists. “I- there’s three other bedrooms in the house.” He offers, looking over at the door to the bedroom of the suite. “You can have whatever room you want.” He sighs. “I’m a selfish asshole, but I’d never make you stay in the same room or sleep with me.”
You appreciate how he isn’t forcing you into more than what you have agreed. “It will only be for a few months. We need to suffer each other until people get bored of you being married. Tonight, we need to put on a show to convince the public we are married. I’m sorry this happened. I know you didn’t want to get married.” You sigh, having heard him say that several times when his manager would try to set him up on dates.
“Yeah, I know you don’t want to be married to me.” He reminds you with a rueful grin. “I’m not complaining though. I get to say I know what you look like when you cum.” Winking at you playfully. “So I’ve got that goin for me.” He’s thought about it all day today and he knows that it’s not going to happen, but it’s a nice thought.
You roll your eyes playfully and slap his chest. “That’s not gonna happen again. It was…a lapse in judgment. We can’t do that again. It will complicate things even more. That was…it was the drugs.” You lie despite knowing you’d love for Dieter to fuck you again.
“Yeah….the drugs.” Dieter frowns at the reminder and turns around to start striding to the bedroom. “I’m gonna go find my coke.” He calls over his shoulder. “You can do whatever you want. If my manger calls, tell her to fuck off, I’m on my honeymoon.
You chuckle, starting to unpack and hang up the clothes you’d bought him so he can pick out an outfit for later. Everything is stylish yet comfortable. You admire the dresses you’d bought for yourself, excited to wear something beautiful that you could never afford. Dieter lays on the bed, napping between snorting the coke, and he watches some movie while you get ready for your dinner. You take your time to do your hair and makeup, coming back out in a robe. “Bathroom is free. I’m gonna get changed.” You tell Dieter.
His hair is sticking up in every direction, not caring to style it after his shower this morning but he sits up when you walk past. Your makeup is sexy and your hair perfect. You look like an actress getting ready to perform her starring role. Right…this is just an act you are putting on so you can divorce him in six months. Dieter grunts and shuffles off the bed to trudge into the bathroom. If you want this to be a role, he can give you that. He’ll be your perfect co-star.
When you are ready, you walk back into the bedroom to find Dieter walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets still rolling down his skin, but his hair is styled and he has shaved. Fuck, he looks good. “You, uh, you look good like that.” You manage to choke out, hoping he likes your riskier outfit. You know that being with Dieter means you have to have a certain image. The man wouldn’t be married to someone who wears jeans and sneakers all day every day. So you hope he likes the skimpy dress you had bought for tonight.
His mouth drops open slightly, eyes fixed on the skin you are showing and his cock twitches. He loves it and he hates it, because he’s not going to be able to touch you. “You look amazing.” He compliments you breathlessly. “We need to see those cunts in the elevator again.” He chuckles. “Let them see I’m sporting a constant boner.”
“Thank you.” You giggle nervously, eyes dipping down to the slight tent under his towel and there’s a flash behind your eyes of you sucking his cock. Fuck, you can’t let him touch you again. You have to keep this professional. “Did you take viagra again?” You tease, sliding your feet into your heels to distract yourself from pulling him close and kissing him.
Scoffing, Dieter shakes his head. “Hell no.” He doesn’t add that there would be no point since he’s not getting laid on his birthday. “Natural reaction to you, sweetheart.” He turns and walks towards the closet. “Another reason I wear baggy clothes.”
You pause, watching him walk away, and you wonder if he’s just joking with you or if he’s being serious. Has he always found you attractive or does he even find you attractive now? After he is dressed, you swear your pussy drips because damn, he looks so sexy when he’s dressed up and tidy. “You look- you look good.” You choke, hoping your face doesn’t betray you, and you fumble to grab your purse so you can make your dinner reservation on time.
Dieter smirks and holds his arm out for you to take with a wink. “Can’t embarrass my wife when I take her out, can I?” He coos, knowing you hate being reminded that you married him. He can be charm itself when he wants to be and surprisingly, he only took a single Xanax while he was getting ready. The wedding band on his hand is foreign, but it somehow mixes with his other rings. “Ready to put on a show?”
With a sigh, you nod, wrapping your fingers around his arm and let him guide you out of the hotel room to the elevator. He seems…sober. You’re not used to seeing Dieter sober like this and you find you like him more. He’s not as brash or obnoxious. He’s charming and, surprisingly sweet. “I just want this to be successful so you don’t end up another failed Hollywood marriage. You don’t wanna beat Kim K and Britney on an annulment, do you?” You tease as you step onto the elevator and you lower your hand from his arm.
“First place is first place.” He jokes, looking up at the LED monitor that shows the floors rapidly descending. “Besides, I’m sure that whoever you are dating wants to kick my ass and have their girlfriend back.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling twitching and he doesn’t want to touch you more than he needs to. He likes it too much. “Just blame everything on me. They’ll believe I did something stupid.”
You snort, “you think I’m-? First of all, no. I’m single. Have been for…longer than I care to admit. Second, I would never do what I did with you if I was with someone. I was drugged and - God, thank fuck I wasn’t with someone because we - it wasn’t exactly once that night.” You’ve had more flashes, able to piece most of your night together. The things he did to you…they should honestly be illegal, it felt far too good. “Legally, I’m yours. Reality, I’m no one’s.” You answer him, feeling a little insecure that you haven’t dated anyone for a while since you’ve been so busy with work.
“Yeah, I get it.” The doors open and Dieter takes a breath before plastering a happy look on his face. “The only reason you would ever look at me is because you were drugged.” He sighs under his breath, his low tone at odds with his expression. “Can you please stop reminding me how much you hate me. It’s my birthday.”
You take his hand, “I promise you I will make sure you have a good birthday. Come on, let’s go get dinner. I’m starving. Then we can go dancing.” You can’t wait to let loose a little and remember it instead of the crazy night you had before.
The photographers are everywhere, lights flashing and Dieter just smiles and acts proud that he is with you. Lifting up your joined hands and kissing the back of yours. “Dieter! What made you marry your PR agent?”
Dieter laughs and gives you a smoldering smirk. “Well I’ve been in love with her for forever and finally managed to convince her that I was serious. She thought I was acting!”
He is acting but damn, the loving look in his eyes almost convinced you that he loves you. “And we decided to just go for it since I’ve been in love with him too.” You coo, kissing Dieter’s cheek and the cameras flash once more. You gasp when Dieter turns his head to press his lips to yours and you let him kiss you for a moment. “Sorry fellas. We are gonna be late for dinner. Thank you.” You declare, squeezing Dieter’s hand and he guides you through the crowd of paps.
Getting into the car is relatively easy and he allows you to slide into the car before him. The driver pulls away and he looks over at you with a smirk. “Looks like they believed you.” His lips burn where he had kissed you and he turns to look out the window so he doesn’t try to do it again. “They might fall in love with you.”
You snort, looking out of the window. “If you don’t like me, I doubt they will love me. I’m just a five minute wonder. When the Kardashians or the Hadid sisters do something, I’ll be old news and that’s when we can divorce under the radar. We just gotta make them think we are in love for the time being. I know that will be hard but you’re an Oscar winning actor so you should be able to manage it.” You wonder if you’ll be able to manage it. He’s more than what you thought he was, already changing your opinion after twenty four hours in his company. Maybe it’s a residue high from the drug. You don’t know.
Dieter sighs and doesn’t comment. It won’t do any good. You wouldn’t believe him if he told you that while he hadn’t been in love with you, he had found you very attractive and he liked the sass and the fact that you didn’t put up with his shit. He was contrary by nature and you were just so good. And last night….fuck, you showed him how wild you could be.
When you arrive at the restaurant, there’s another throng of paps and fans with their cameras but the restaurant staff usher you inside to a private booth and you exhale in relief when you lean back against the cool leather. “I don’t know how you handle that all the time.” You say to Dieter when he sits beside you.
“Drugs.” Dieter jokes, giving a small shrug as he reaches for the water glass. It’s not wine, but he will order a bottle quick enough and he’s oddly thirsty. “Some days it’s okay, especially when I meet someone who is passionate about movies, but it can be a lot when it’s the paps.”
“I can only imagine. It’s…intense. I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I sit at a desk and don’t really see that side of it. The reality of it. For so long, I’ve just done damage control on different situations you’ve gotten into like when you hit the pap and I never - I always thought you overreacted but now I know.”
He stares at you a moment, amazed that you had just said that. When he had hit the pap, you had raked his ass over the coals. “Thanks.” He ducks his head slightly to study the menu. “Hopefully they don’t bother you too badly.”
"I can handle them. They just need to be bored by me and they will move on. If we have an orgy in the middle of the strip, then we might be on their radar." You joke, browsing the menu. "Shit. This place is pricey. I didn't -" You are cut when Dieter rolls his eyes and tuts.
"Hellooo?? My wife gets whatever she wants. Plus, I make way more money than I need. Probably why I buy so much coke." He murmurs to himself and you fluster at the way he easily calls you his wife even though no one is around to hear.
The waiter comes over and Dieter orders the wine and you soon order your meal. "I don't - I haven't really been anywhere this nice before. My parents always preferred to cook homemade meals and special occasions were few and far between and my exes, none really took me anywhere super nice."
He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Wow, sounds like you dated some winners.” He doesn’t mind spending money, the people he hangs out with would verify that. But someone like you needs to be appreciated. “Well, while you are married to me, you can do whatever you want and eat everywhere you’ve wanted to try.” He lifts his brows. “A Hollywood wife must be seen after all.”
You chuckle, "I guess so." You watch the wine sommelier pour the wine for Dieter to taste and he nods, letting the man pour you a glass before filling Dieter's up. "To being fake married." You toast softly with a smirk on your lips as you clink your glass against his. "To being fake married." He responds and you take a sip of the wine, moaning in appreciation of the fruity full bodied red wine.
Your moan punches him in the gut, making it twist as he members the way you sounded last night. You still haven’t realized that he knew that the two of you got married. He wonders what you will say when you rationalize it out.
You eagerly dig into your appetizer. So hungry after so much stress. You see Dieter fidget and flex his fingers as he plays with his food. “Is everything okay?” You ask, reaching for his left hand. Another flash plays through your mind of when he slid the diamond ring onto your finger. You gasp and squeeze his hand. “Do you - if you remember last night us having - then you must remember us getting married?”
Shit…..Dieter stares down at his plate and swallows, suddenly not hungry. You are going to be pissed at him. “I do.” He admits, not looking up. He doesn’t want to see the anger on your face. Plus it hurts less when he gets slapped if he doesn’t see it coming.
You inhale sharply, now knowing that he married you and remembers it. He knew what he was doing. You feel betrayed. "Why?" You whisper, unable to muster anything else.
Dieter sighs and leans back in his chair, wishing that he had done some Coke before dinner. “It was your idea.” He reveals. “You climbed into my lap and told me that you had always wanted to slap me and then kiss me.” He huffs out a small chuckle. “So I told you to do it.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a long gulp. “It went from there, but you asked me to marry you.”
Your eyes widen. “I- I asked you- oh God.” You lean back in your seat, absorbing the news that you asked him to marry you. “Why - did I give a reason why? I need you to tell me everything.” You order, leaning closer to him.
He gives a small shrug. “I thought you had just decided to take the stick out of your ass.” He defends himself. “Plus I wasn’t close to sober. But we made out in the club, damn near had sex in that booth. Then we went cruising down the strip and you saw the chapel and demanded we pull over.” He chuckles. “You claimed you loved those cliche movies about eloping and something about it could be a weird version of married at first sight?” He shrugs. “I didn’t know what you were talking about, but you were happy.”
You stare at him, tears stinging in your eyes and you swallow harshly. The tang of the wine on your lips when you lick them. “Wow. I- wow. It was me.” You can’t believe it was you that suggested getting married but you supposed it makes sense now. You sigh and reach for his hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault we are in this fucked up mess and I - oh God. I’m so sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t - my parents got divorced when I was a teenager so I guess I’ve always wanted to get married and do it right but now I’ve completely fucked that up.”
He reaches out and covers your hand with his other one. “It’s okay.” He knows how you feel now, in the light of day. He should have known you weren’t yourself, but he convinced himself that you had just given into bottled up feelings. It’s not true though, you are horrified at being married to him. So you’ll get it annulled or get a divorce or whatever. “We’ll have you single again in no time.” He chuckles and sends you a wink. “Smart girl, we got married without a prenup too.”
Your eyes widen, “oh God. I didn’t - I don’t want your money Dieter. You can keep it. I don’t - I don’t want you to think I did this because of - because of the money. I didn’t.” You promise, “I don’t - oh God. What a mess…and it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, knowing that your job is to protect his image and you’re the one who got you in this position.
He chuckles, enjoying the abject horror on your face. “Nah. I’ll just sign up for some really shitty movie, Cliff Beasts 75 or some shit, and tell the press at the junket that it’s so I could pay my alimony.” He teases, squeezing your hand so you don’t think he’s serious.
You roll your eyes at him, half playful, and you look down at your joined hands. For some reason, it feels far too right to hold his hand, even with the ghastly amount of rings he has on each hand. “So you wanted to marry me…even though I’ve done nothing but be rude to you?” You ask, frowning again.
“What can I say?” He gives a small shrug. “I’m a masochist.” His joke is meant to make you roll your eyes and scoff, perhaps say something sarcastic. Anything to keep you from delving into why he thought marrying you was a good idea. He was high, sure, but he never was so high that he married someone else before. His insecurities and loneliness came out last night and in typical Dieter fashion, he was selfish.
You stare at him, unsure of what to think, but you can see something in his eyes. You just can’t put your finger on it. “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you. I should’ve been more professional and I understand why you…self medicate. It must be so overwhelming.” You squeeze his hand just as the waiter comes over with your food.
He doesn’t respond with a pithy reply, instead he just leans back and lets the server set down the food. He speaks when the extra ears have left. “I get it, I’m annoying.” He gives a small shrug. “Byproduct of being lonely, I guess.”
You feel sorry for him which surprises you. You can’t imagine how lonely it must be to not know who your true friends are. To know that everyone wants something from you. “I- I really am sorry Dieter. I don’t think you’re as annoying now that I understand why. You’re just…eccentric.” You tell him and start to eat, wondering what you can do to make this man happy. How bizarre, to have gone from loathing him to…something else in less than twenty four hours.
“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He’s slightly prickly after exposing something so raw. “My life is great. Drugs, sex, whatever I want.” He huffs like it’s ridiculous to imagine being unhappy. “I live in Sherman Oaks.”
You snort, “money doesn’t buy happiness. It’s clear that you are lonely and you buy your friends and your lovers. It’s…I want more for you Dieter. You deserve to be truly happy. I know we have fucked up with this marriage but you deserve to be with someone who loves you.
Dieter sighs, knowing that will never happen. He either fucks up or they do. Or they never loved him at all. “Can we talk about something less depressing?” He whines before he changes the subject. “Like you showing me your tits at the strip club?”
Your eyes widen, “I did what?!?” Your mouth drops and you lower your knife and fork.
“Yeah. You flashed your tits while we were in the club. Said you could get up on that stage and make me hard.” Dieter smirks at how mortified you are.
“Oh my God. I didn’t.” You cringe, knowing you must’ve embarrassed yourself while high thanks to your constant need to suppress your wilder side.
“You did.” He chuckles and leans in. “But you were right, I did get hard.” He smirks and winks at you. “Got really hard. You liked it. Really liked it.” You had loved how hard he was and that he was a multiple rounds kind of guy.
You fluster, another flash in your mind of you taking his cock into your mouth in the limo, and your cheeks burn. “Oh shit. I did. God, I- I didn’t know - I’ve never behaved that way. I just - oh no. I’m so sorry.” You wince, not even wanting to know what he thought of you. “I, uh, I never behave that way. At least not outside of my kind.”
Dieter grins, eyes alight with dirty delight. “Yeah?” He gives a low chuckle. “You have a lot of dirty thoughts swimming around in that pretty little head if yours?” He nods. “Yeah, you do. You probably read all those smutty romances and watch porn thinking about what you would do if you just let yourself.”
You fluster, thinking of all of the books you’ve read and the porn you’ve watched. “A lot of dirty thoughts.” You murmur, looking into those beautiful dark eyes of his that are just one of the reasons he’s such a popular actor. You lick your lips and shift a little closer to him. “We shouldn’t - we should keep this professional.” Your eyes dip down to his lips and you remember how good it felt to kiss him. You want that again.
“Maybe.” Dieter gives a careless shrug, as if it’s of no consequence. “Although….we already have. And you are my wife.” He reminds you with a grin. “So technically speaking, fucking each other’s brains out would be keeping it professional.” He can tell you are curious. If it’s because you don’t remember a lot of last night or if you want to see what Dieter Bravo is like in bed, he doesn’t know. “You know what they say. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”
You want to kiss him, fuck, you really do, but crossing that line isn’t something you can let go. You pull back, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “I- I don’t think it would, considering everyone takes our photo.” You gesture to the people across the room who are trying to covertly take your photo. You go back to your food, knowing it’s for the best. “We can go dancing after this, show off those infamous moves.” You nudge him playfully, trying to lighten the mood.
He wants to pout, but he knows that he’s not going to push. He never pushes, it goes against his code. “Okay.” He lown meal and forks up a bite. You don’t want to sleep with him again. Fitting for the woman who hadn’t even wanted to come here. He can see you retreat back into your professional armor and he sighs softly. “We’ll dance for like an hour, then I think I’m just going to go to bed early.” He decides. “There’s got to be another baggie in the room somewhere.”
You sigh, wishing he wouldn’t escape in drugs. Maybe some therapy would help him process better. You push that thought aside and know that you’re not his actual wife so that would be overstepping. The rest of dinner is spent in silence and you groan when you finish dessert. “I don’t think I’ve had a meal that good…ever.” You dread to think what the bill is going to say.
Groaning in agreement, Dieter doesn’t even look at the bill when it comes, pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket and handing the card to the waiter as he reaches for his wine glass to drain the last sip. “Have you decided what club?”
“Not a strip club.” You snort and he pouts, making you playfully slap his arm. “Not a strip club. There’s this club at Venetian that’s supposed to be nice. Let’s go there and we can dance then go back to the room because these shoes aren’t gonna hold up an entire night.” You stretch your legs, accidentally brushing against his. “Thank you for dinner.” You tell him when the waiter sets the bill down.
“You’re welcome.” For all his douchebaggery, Dieter tips. He had spent too many years waiting tables to survive while he was working towards breaking into the business. He signs a large tip and scrawls his signature before he takes his card and closes the leather booklet. “Ready?” He asks, standing up and moving over to your chair.
You take his hand, happy to keep your hands joined as he guides you out of the restaurant and through the hotel to your awaiting limo. Dieter tells the driver the name of the club and he leans back in the leather seat as the driver makes his way across the strip. “Can I ask you a question?” You ask and he chuckles, “you just did.” You roll your eyes and look at him and he nods. “Why do you do the drugs? What about it makes you - makes you happy?”
That hadn’t been the question he was expecting. He frowns slightly and thinks about how to answer. “It’s freeing. Fun.” He gives a small shrug. “I like the way I think, the way I feel when I’m high. It can be creative.” He snorts. “Or it can make me not give a fuck about what’s going on.”
You nod in understanding, “I can get that. Just - just being you without any kind of mental barrier. I just - last night I was free. I have never acted like that before.” You admit, “but don’t you ever get tired of it? Don’t you ever want something real?”
Dieter scoffs. “Real checked out when my first multi million dollar role was announced.” He tells you. “Real left when I slept with someone only to have them sell pictures to The Sun.” He gives a shrug that’s meant to hide the hurt and betrayal that he had felt when he realized that he was just some kind of commodity to a lot of people. “Maybe one day, when I’m old and the roles stop coming in, or they aren’t blockbusters or Oscar winners.”
You feel sad for him, you can see the pain in his eyes. He feels used and not truly loved, he has been wrung out for every penny people can get out of him. “I’m sorry you’ve been treated like that. You deserve to be treated like any other human. Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you don’t get to be treated with respect. I- I can understand now why you act that way you do. It’s an escape and a facade. If you don’t let them see the real you, you won’t get hurt.”
“Knew you were a smart cookie.” It’s not exactly a compliment, because it means he’s let you see beyond his facade. He looks out of the car window and chuckles to himself. “Want to flash the strip?” He asks, making a crude joke to lighten the mood.
You chuckle, rolling your eyes at him. “No I don’t. I’m not even drunk.” You tell him, “or drugged. God, I really did flash my tits everywhere. Thank God no one got a photo of it.” You cringe at the thought.
“Oh there are photos.” Dieter smirks, holding up his phone. “But only I get to see pics of my wifey like that.” He had every intention of deleting them, but hadn’t remembered to do it yet. “You wanna see?”
Your eyes widen, “you took photos? Oh my God. You asshole.” You slap his arm making him give a dramatic “ow” then you demand he shows you. He grins and unlocks his phone, pulling up the photos he had taken. “Oh God. I- I look - I look hot.” You settle on that word. You look happy and carefree and hot. Words you never thought you’d put together.
“Yeah you do.” You do look hot, doing exactly what you wanted and not apologizing for it. The picture where you were pushing your tits together and winking at him is his favorite. Inviting him to come suck on him. He had waited until the limo to do that. “But no one else got photos. Apparently there’s not supposed to be photos taken in the club.”
You stare at the photos, not even recognizing yourself. You look so happy. You don’t remember the last time you were that happy. Work took over and then your relationships were lackluster and you haven’t had much time for yourself. “That’s good. You, uh, can you send those to me? I really like them.” You admit quietly, loving that side of yourself that you’ve never seen.
He lifts his brow in surprise, not expecting you to want to keep any evidence of you letting loose. “Sure.” He nods and opens his messages to start sending you the photos. If you want them, you will have them. “I’ll delete them off my phone after I send them to you, but I don’t believe in that sharing photos shit. That’s disgusting.”
You have a new appreciation for him, knowing that he is many things but he isn’t a liar. “Thank you.” You kiss his cheek, wanting to thank him for being a good man. Your phone buzzes and you ignore it since the limo pulls up outside of the Venetian. “More paps but after that, it’s time to celebrate your birthday. First round is on me.” You promise, grabbing your purse as the driver opens the door.
Dieter follows you out of the limo, wrapping his arm around your waist and starting to weave through the paps. If he didn’t know better, he would think someone tipped them off. Smiling and grinning like he’s happy they are all witnessing his arrival, he tugs you closer. “Talk later! Gotta dance!”
You sigh, knowing you will need to investigate who tipped the paps off. You imagine it’s his assistant who arranged the reservations. “I’m sorry. I don’t - I’ll gotta find out who tipped them off.” You tell him as you take his hand, walking through the casino and you sigh in relief when you see the entrance to the club after several fans took photos of you and Dieter. “It’s exhausting. Having to be ‘on’ all the time.” You can’t imagine how he handles it. You enter the club, skipping the line, and are escorted to the VIP section.
Ordering a drink is quick, the server specifically assigned to your section for preferential treatment. “What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks, leaning in and speaking into your ear over the loud music. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and the entire world would believe that you two are are enamored with each other.
You force yourself to not turn your head, your lips would be so close, and you know that kissing him, or touching him, would complicate things even more. He looks so good though, the lights flashing over his face, and you want to just protect him from the fucked up world he is in and keep him safe and...loved. Shit, you gotta push that thought out of your mind. You mumble that you want a vodka soda and Dieter orders a whole bottle. "Gonna be a good night." He promises, his lips against your ear and it makes you shiver.
The music plays as the two of you wait for your drinks. He’s aware that there are eyes on the two of you, taking advantage of it by stroking your arm and leaning close, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “You look delicious in that dress.” He breathes into your ear. “Can’t wait to dance with you.”
You try to smother your whimper as your entire body lights up from his simple touch. Biting your lip, you turn your head to look at him and you swear he looks angelic with the lights flashing over his handsome face. He’s no angel though, he’s the devil in disguise. “Let’s dance.” You tell him, not bothered about the drinks.
Dieter smirks as you practically drag him out onto the dance floor. He doesn’t normally dance as much as wildly gyrate, but he can grind on someone. It helps that even though he’s behind you, you are leading the dance, something that is wildly sexy to him as he lets you take control.
You grab his hands, placing them on your hips as you grind back against him. You may be stiff and starchy most days to be professional but you love to dance. You don’t care who’s watching, deciding to finally let loose and you grind your ass against Dieter. Dipping low and pushing up against him as you grab his hands to help you stand upright. You put on a show that he clearly likes if his hardening cock pressing against your ass is anything to go by.
He groans, grinding against you and gripping your hips harshly. “God.” He hisses in your ear, loving how uninhibited you are being. “You are so dirty under that prissy veneer, aren’t you?” He teases. “You would do anything right now, wouldn’t you?”
You gasp when he bites down on your earlobe. “God yes. I would. I just - I haven’t had anyone to bring this side out of me.” His words send a thrill through you and you grind back even harder, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, arching your back.
Chuckling against your ear, he slides his hand down your hip, fingers teasing the edge of your dress and tracing the hem. “Let me.” He demands, waiting to see if you push his hand away. When you don’t, his cock throbs against your ass as he dips his fingers under the dress and starts caressing the skin of your thighs as he works his way higher to the beat of the music.
You don’t push his hand away, leaning back against him, and you whimper when his fingers press against your clit through your panties. “Fuck Dieter.” You moan into his neck when you turn your head. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, this is going to complicate things and you haven’t got the excuse that you’re drugged. You’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. You are practically sober and his hand is under your dress.
“You said that so many times last night.” He coos in your ear, rubbing your clit over your panties. “Fuck Dieter, harder.” He moans. “Fuck Dieter, your in my guts.” He slips a finger under the fabric and pushes it inside you, his thumb still outside your panties and pressed against your clit.
You don’t have the capacity to be embarrassed at what you had said to him last night. The flashes you had gotten told you that you loved what he had done to you. His thick digit inside of you has you gasping his name and his chuckle makes you gush, getting more aroused while you continue grinding on him. “God, what else did I say?” You ask with a raspy moan.
“That my cock was the best you ever had and you wanted to ride it.” He pumps his finger in and out of your tight, hot cunt - loving how you’re gripping it. It’s dirty, doing it right here on the dance floor and he loves it. “Whined when I told you to go to sleep. I think you would have slept with me inside you.”
His words cause a whine to rise up your throat, making you grab onto his hair as he works his digit in and out of you. "Oh God. That - that means you must've done a good job making me cum. Was I - was I good for you? Did you enjoy it?" You ask, knowing he's had more sex than you've had hot dinners so it's a valid question and you hope he doesn't lie to appease you.
“Fuck yes it was good.” He groans in your ear and slides another finger under the panties to push in with the other on the next twist of his wrist. “Fucking hot and tight. Like a perfect glove.” He twitches against your ass.
His second finger stretches you just right and you start to lean more against him as he works you towards an orgasm. "Oh fuck baby. You're gonna make me - it's so good. Dieter. I-" You turn your head to bite down on his neck. The music is loud but you don't need to alert people around you that Dieter just made you cum. His fingers work you through it and you slump back against him, feeling almost dizzy from the pleasure. "So good." You murmur, eyes closed as you breathe him in.
Dieter whines as he pulls his soaked fingers out of your cunt, holding them up so the shiny cum can catch the light in front of your eyes before he slides them into his mouth with a grin. You’re leaning against him and not moving to the music any more. “Time for that drink, right?” He murmurs in your ear, kissing the shell again.
You nod dumbly, feeling his cock hard and twitching against your ass as he guides you back to the VIP section. When you are under the stroud of exclusive cover, you reach for his pants. "Want to make you feel good too." All care of your PR job goes flying out the window as you scramble to pull his hard cock out of his pants. The section you're in is private and the curtains hide you from near everyone in the club. When his cock is finally free, you groan at the sight of it. It's beautiful, thick and veiny and you immediately lean down to take him into your mouth, not caring about anything other than making him cum.
“Shit.” Dieter hisses at the surprise move, throwing his head back as his hand comes to rest on the back of yours. He hadn’t expected this. Maybe some teasing, but he knows you aren’t drunk or have taken anything. This is you, taking him into your mouth and moaning around him like he’s a fucking lollipop you’ve craved. “Fuck, baby. You are so dirty, I love it.” His other hand slides around your side to squeeze your tit through your dress. “My wifey’s a little exhibitionist, sucking my cock in the club.”
This is so wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this but fuck, you can’t stop yourself. His moans and the way he touches you spurs you on and you bob on his cock, using your hand to work the length that you can’t take down your throat.
Letting out a needy whine, Dieter’s eyes close and he shuffles his hips up slightly. Wanting you to try to take him deeper. “Oh fuck baby, that mouth, oh fuck it’s so good.” He rambles, practically shuddering under the hot pressure of your palette against the head. “So good, you- fuck baby.” He forces his eyes open again to watch you suck his cock, amazed that this is happening and everyone is sober.
You’re sober but you’re also drunk on Dieter. Taking him deeper until you are choking around his thick cock. You breathe through your nose, working him deeper until you aren’t gagging. Hollowing your cheeks, you press your tongue against the underside of his cock. Your eyes water but you force yourself to open them to meet his gaze, wanting to look at him.
Dieter is such a fucking needy little shit that the moment that you lock eyes with him, his entire body gives in. Gasping out your name, his cock starts to throb, face twisting pleasure while he is pumping ropes of salty cum into your mouth.
You struggle to keep up, swallowing each spurt of cum, but a drop escapes to drip down your chin and lands on his pants. Working him through his orgasm, you pull off of his cock and kiss the tip, loving the way he twitches, then you lean down to lap up the drop that is threatening to stain his pants.
“Jesus Christ.” When you are sitting up, Dieter lunges forward to press his lips to yours. Sliding his tongue into your mouth, not caring about the taste of his own cum in your mouth, just needing to kiss you. Dragging you closer while he groans and deepens the kiss for a long minute before he pulls away and sighs as he nudges his nose against yours. “Shit…I wasn’t expecting a birthday blowjob.” He giggles, practically euphoric.
“Neither was I.” You admit with a giggle, kissing his jaw. “I just - I can’t seem to stop touching you now. I want to give you birthday sex.” You murmur, wanting to recreate the night before and relive the flashes you get here and there. “Plus it will be good if people believe we are actually married, like not just on paper. Maybe a noise complaint will help our case.” You tease, caressing his chest through the open buttons of his shirt.
He smirks and nods eagerly. “I can make a noise complaint happen.” He jokes, before he leans in and kisses you again. “You want to have sex with me?” He asks, lifting his brows as he looks at you softly. He hadn’t expected this, this change of heart towards him, but he’s not turning down getting you into bed again.
You nod eagerly. Ready for him to make you cum again. “Yes. Want you to fuck me until I scream your name. Until we get a noise complaint and everyone knows that dieter Bravo fucks his wife hard.”
He knows you don’t mean that beyond the fact that you accidentally married him. Fully aware that in a few months time, you are going to divorce him. But right now, the fact that he has a wife and that wife wants him to make a claim on her has him standing up. Shoving his cock back into his pants and zipping up, he grabs your hand. “We’re leaving.” He growls.
Your cunt clenches at his growl and you let him practically drag you out of the VIP section after he slams some cash down on the table to cover the drinks you never had. When you are out of the club, he ignores anyone that talks to him as he practically drags you to the car, pushing you inside. As soon as the door closes, you are straddling his lap and pressing your lips to his.
He’s greedy right now, pushing your dress up to your hips and nearly ripping your top as he pulls your tits. Dragging his lips away from yours so he can kiss down your chest. He’s not hard yet, that will take at least until you get back to the hotel, but he can suck on your tits and see what you like while his body recovers enough to fuck you.
When he takes your nipple into his mouth, you arch your back and cry out, tangling your fingers in this hair. “Oh fuck baby. That feels good.” You gasp when he bites down on the sensitive flesh.
Dieter loves tits. Big ones, small ones, he just loves them. He might have a bit of a lactation kink, but he’s never been with someone that had milk, but he always imagines it as he’s sucking on them. He flicks his tongue over the hard flesh and suckles eagerly, making it even stiffer before he scrapes his teeth over it to make you shudder. Pushing your tits together and licking between them happily before he buries his face in the cavity and groans happily.
You moan, loving how fucking eager he is, and he switches rapidly between nipples, sucking each one and making you shift to grind down onto him, your panties soaked. You know this is a bad idea but you can’t stop yourself. He’s sexy, in a garbage driver kind of way - and you find yourself needing him more than you need air. “Oh fuck. Yes. Just like that.” You hiss when he nibbles the flesh.
He grunts, keeping his mouth busy. His hands sliding down and gripping your ass as you roll your hips. Reaching around with one hand to push your panties to the side so your clit can grind down against the seam of his pants. He doesn’t care if you soak them and ruin them, he wants to see you cum again.
“Fuck.” You cry, grinding down until your clit rubs against the zipper of his pants, catching just right to make you shudder. His mouth continues to nip and suck on your tits and you swear you’ve never been this wet. You must have soaked his pants by now and you haven’t even cum yet. “Fuck Diet. You’re gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You warn him just before you fall over the edge, crying out as you shake above him.
Groaning into your tits, Dieter feels you fall apart. Your body tense and trembling gives him a rush of endorphins and his flaccid cock is starting to respond, hardening slowly as you grind against him. He holds you close and continues to lave affection on your tits until you slump against him, panting breathlessly. “I want to die like this.” Dieter’s comment is muffled from between your tits. “Just like this.”
You chuckle breathlessly, caressing his neck and running your fingers through his hair as you try to catch your breath, still feeling the haze of your orgasm washing over you. “If you die right now, I’ll get all your money.” You tease, knowing he knows that you don’t care about that stuff.
“Worth it.” He huffs against your damp skin. “Just bury me with a mold of your tits in my face.” He jokes, pulling away from you to kiss up your chest and chin before placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips.
You sigh against his mouth, a little shocked by the tender kiss, and you respond, gently kissing him back. Your hands slide down to caress his chest and you nibble on his bottom lip, in no rush to pull away. This is dangerous, being this intimate and comfortable, but you know things will change when you get back to L.A and have to face reality.
The driver pulls to a stop outside the hotel and Dieter groans slightly, pulling your panties back into place and tugging your skirt down as he kisses you one last time. “Time to get out of the car and pretend we weren’t making out back here.” He smirks and looks down at his wet crotch. “Although that’s gonna be hard.”
You fluster, biting your lip as you try to compose yourself. These damn hotels make you walk through the casino to get to your room. You take Dieter's hand once he exits the limo and the cameras flash, making you lean into his side. "They definitely know what we were doing." You whisper, giggling when people stare at his crotch. "Helps confirm we are really married."
“I don’t think that we will have them convinced just yet.” Dieter winks at you before he hauls you close and kisses you again. It’s wet and dirty, the kind of kiss that leads to sex and he’s very happy when he hears you moan into his mouth, clinging to him.
You whimper into his mouth, nails digging into his shirt-clad shoulders as he slides his tongue against yours. Cameras flash and you pull back, knowing that you need to get him to the hotel room now before you fuck him here and in front of fans with cameras and the paps. "Need to - to get to the room." You manage to pant, grabbing his hand to practically drag him to the elevator.
Chuckling, he eagerly follows you into the car, somehow managing to be in there with only one other couple. “We’re gonna have to behave.” He warns you playfully, smacking your ass before he turns to the other couple. “Sorry, it’s our honeymoon and she’s irresistible.” He shares a smirk with the older man, and then grins back at you.
You slap his chest, shaking your head despite the grin on your face. Shit. He’s not too bad when he’s not playing up being an obnoxious Oscar winning movie star. The other couple - older - just chuckle. “I remember when she used to be like that for me.” He winks at his wife.
“What do you mean used to be? Still am.” The wife smirks and the husband’s eyebrows raise.
“Have a good night.” The husband says when the elevator arrives on their floor.
“You too.” You respond and the wife smirks over her shoulder, “oh we will.”
“Damn, he’s gonna get lucky too.” Dieter huffs in amusement. The question of if you would still be that hot for him when you're their age is on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembers that he’ll be alone again by his next birthday. He pushes that out of his mind, grabbing you and flattening you against the wall of the car, his tongue desperate to chase away the thought and have as much of you as he can while you are still here.
You moan as his tongue slides against yours again. It’s like you can’t get enough of him. Never mind having a drug in your system last night, you’re certain that half of that was Dieter. Your entire body is on fire and you struggle to find any reason as to why you hated him. The bell dings and you slide out from the wall and your husband.
“Does the birthday boy want some birthday sex? You want me to ride you like I promised?” You coo, smirking as you start to walk down the hall to his suite. When he starts to follow you, nodding his head eagerly, you grin and grab the key from your purse. “Better catch me then.” You rush down the hall, knowing it’s gonna be hard for him to run with his cock hard and throbbing already.
“Fuck.” Dieter groans, watching you take off and he starts to shuffle after you. “Wait up!” He whines, actually enjoying himself even though he wishes he was still crushed against you. It’s been a long time since sex was just playful and he is loving how easy it seems to be with you. You aren’t the uptight woman you pretend to be. “Fuck baby, watch that ass.” He huffs.
You giggle, trying to open the door, when he grabs you. You struggle to unlock the door with his hands everywhere and your hand shakes as you press the key against it, finally managing to open the door. “You’re just too slow, old man.” You tease, kicking off your shoes as you step into the suite and spin out of his arms to set your purse down.
“Fuck you I’m too old.” He huffs, slapping your ass harshly and then grabbing the hem of your dress to start dragging it up. “I’ll show you old.” He drags you back against him, grinding his cock against your ass. “Want you to ride me, I’ve been thinking about it all fucking day.” He admits with a grin, biting down on your shoulder.
You grind back against him, head lolling as he kisses up your neck, and you gather your senses enough to tell him to take his pants off. "Get undressed. Now." You order, desperate to sink down onto his cock. "Then sit back against the headboard."
“Yes ma’am.” Dieters draws out, happy to follow that order. Disrobing is careless, tossing clothes on the floor without any care until he is standing completely naked, save for his black socks. “Keep my feet warm.” He teases with a wink before he crawls up on the bed and leans back against the headboard. Wanting to see what you will say about the ridiculous look of just being in socks.
You chuckle at the sight of him in his socks, his cock resting on his lower stomach, and you push your panties down, kneeling on the bed and shuffling forward until you are hovering over his cock. “Like an old man keeping his socks on.” You tease, reaching between you to grip his cock and position him at your entrance. You slowly sink down onto him, mouth falling open at how he stretches you.
“Does that make you the young gold digger?” He demands, leaning forward to kiss you and drag you to his chest. Wanting to feel your bare breasts against his skin while you get used to him. He knows you are probably sore from yesterday since you had told him it had been awhile since you’ve had sex. “Gonna fuck your old husband to death?”
You chuckle, “yeah. Especially since we have no prenup. You want me to - to fuck you to death?” You joke, moaning when you manage to rock your hips slowly until he’s fully inside of you. “Oh God. How don’t I remember how this feels?” You say to yourself.
“Blacked out from bliss.” Dieter huffs, reaching up and pinching your nipple. “Hearts gonna give out when you squeeze me with that tight pussy of yours.” He groans when you do just that, cock twitching inside you. “Fuck me baby.” He whines, wanting to feel you move.
You grab onto his shoulder for leverage, lifting yourself up until only the head of his cock is notched inside of you. You meet those entrancing dark brown eyes of his and sink down. Starting a little slow but building up the pace until you are rocking your hips on his cock.
“Fuck.” He pants out the word, loving how you feel around him, riding him. He caresses your hip and looks down to watch you take him. “Look at that. That pussy must be so full.”
"It is. Oh fuck. It is. I - never been this full." You admit shifting to lean back. Your hands braced on his knees as you grind forward, allowing him an even better view to see your pussy. "Fuck. This is just - so good."
Dieter is entranced, loving how your lips are stretching around him. It makes him throb and he reaches down and rubs your clit. Loving your gasp and the way your body shudders. “You look good on my cock.” He groans.
“Feels so good.” Your thighs start to shake and you nearly collapse backwards as you try to continue grinding down on his cock. It becomes too much, his fingers on your clit and the head of his cock hitting just right on every grind down, makes you fall apart. Your cry of pleasure echoes off of the walls and you slump forward as your thighs shake violently with your orgasm.
He whimpers at how tight you squeeze him, hissing through his teeth and letting go of your clit so he can start rolling you over. Needing to cum himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groans out. “So perfect.” He starts to jackhammer his hips, carelessly chasing his own high while you thrash underneath him.
You cling to him, wrapping your legs around him to push him deeper as he thrusts hard and deep into you. “Cum for me baby. Cum for me.” You plead, wanting to feel him fill you up. “Please Dieter. Cum for me.”
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It’s all Dieter can manage as he careens towards another orgasm. Looking down at you as he starts to cum. Hissing out in pleasure as the vein in his temple throbs and his entire body locks up as he buries his cock deep and starts to fill you up.
“So good. So good.” You choke as his cock throbs inside of you, painting your walls with his cum and you send a silent thanks to your birth control. “Baby. Oh baby.” You sigh, rubbing his back as he works himself through his orgasm.
When he’s done, he collapses against you, snuggling into your chest and tucking his head into your neck. Unwilling to let this moment end right now. Soon enough you will put that wall back up and try to keep him at a distance. “Fuck.” He slurs, feeling slightly drunk on pleasure. “Best birthday ever.”
You stroke his back, kissing his neck. “Happy birthday baby.” You murmur, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the way your heart flutters. He may be your husband on paper but after this weekend, this can’t happen again. You can’t afford for it to happen again. You need to be serious and focus on his image and the press. Work through this until you can quietly divorce.
He can feel when you start to pull away, shuffling under him. Dieter groans and starts to move off of you, pulling out of you gently and flopping onto his back with a sigh. Staring up at the ceiling and wishing that he could be granted a birthday wish.
“I, uh, need to pee and then we should get some sleep. We have an early flight back to L.A.” You tell him, shuffling off of the bed to make sure you don’t get his cum over the mattress. While you pee, you rub your eyes, uncaring of your mascara as you try to figure out what to do. You don’t know what to say to him after you just had sex sober bar a few drinks. You weren’t drugged. When you come back into the bedroom, you slide under the covers where Dieter already is. “Night. Happy birthday.” You lean over to kiss his cheek before you turn away, forcing yourself to close your eyes.
“Thanks.” Dieter stares at your back for nearly an hour, watching as you pretend to sleep and then your body relaxes as you finally do give way to sleep. Sighing, he looks back up at the ceiling again and wonders when the hell he had done the dumb thing and fallen in love with you. Rolling his eyes at himself and huffing into the dark. Admitting to himself that he had been enamored with you, and this experience had just made it crystal clear he would never have what he wanted.
The next morning, you and Dieter barely speak to each other, focusing on getting to the private jet and you’re thankful his entourage seems to have disappeared. “I- I know you don’t exactly enjoy being married to me but need to make this look good in public. I can’t - I can’t live with you Dieter. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.” You don’t tell him why, not wanting to admit that while you hated the party person he is, you have seen a different side to him, a side that you know is the true Dieter. Not the façade he puts on, what he thinks people want from him. His true self is sweet and kind and deep. He’s smart and you wish he would let others see that side of him, not just the party animal.
Dieter’s brow furrows, a hurt expression in his face and he shakes his head. “I don’t want-“ he takes a breath and decides to be honest. “I don’t want to get divorced. I want this to- try it.” He moves from the seat that he was in to drop down onto his knees in front of your own plush leather seat. “Give me six months. Six months really being Mrs. Bravo. If you aren’t happy I’ll give you the divorce. But I- I want this.” He confesses. “I was happy when we got married. I’ve been happy with you.”
You swallow harshly, unable to believe he wants you to be actually married to him. “It’s been two days, Dieter.” You shake your head, knowing you’ll be a 5 minute wonder with him.
“Please baby. Give me a chance.” He pleads, those pretty brown eyes going glossy and part of you wonders if this is all an act. Even if it isn’t an act, he will get bored of you and if you say no, he will badger you until you say yes.
You nod, “fine. Six months.” You agree, knowing that he will be begging for a divorce within a couple of weeks when someone else catches his attention.
He lights up, grinning from ear to ear as he pushes up to kiss you. Cupping your cheeks and moaning happily against your lips. “Six months.” He promises. “It’ll be the best six months of your life.” Smirking, he waggles his brows playfully. “And the most orgasms.” He chuckles.
You snort, knowing that he is being true when he says that. He has made you cum more times than any ex lover during an entire relationship and he’s done it in two days. When the plane lands, the paps are swarming near the gate to the private airfield but thankfully, the car is waiting on the tarmac. The cameras flash and people shout as the driver carefully navigates the crowd as he exits the airfield. “God, I hope we are old news soon. Perhaps JLo and Ben will break up soon.” You chuckle, “or maybe Chris Evans gets married and they can focus on him.” You grab your phone, knowing you still need to do your job and you wince at the amount of emails. “You have a lot of interview requests.”
He smirks and nods towards the cameras, giving them a wave before he tucks you close into his side. The luggage is already being transferred and all the two of you need to do is to get to the car. “As long as you are there, book them all.” He shrugs carelessly and reaches over to pluck your phone out of your hand.
“Dieter!” You huff, reaching for it, but he pulls it out of your reach. “I need that!” You stubbornly insist. He shakes his head and grins at you.
“No, my wife needs to kiss me in front of the cameras.” He taunts, holding the phone up as hostage. “Gimme a kiss and you can have it back.”
You want to slap him but instead you kiss him, cupping his cheeks and sliding your tongue into his mouth as you kiss your husband. Hoping he gives you his phone back and satisfies the vultures. You hear shouting and you press yourself up against Dieter whose arms are now wrapped around you.
Dieter grins against your lips when you pull back, already half hard and winks at you before he pulls away, handing you the phone back. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, snookums?”
You poke his chest with your phone, "never call me that again if you want your balls, Bravo." You warn playfully and he grins.
"Whatever you say Mrs. Bravo." His words make you pause and you look down at the ring on your finger, knowing you are going to have a hard time taking it off. It seems too easy, too comfortable with Dieter. Not even 72 hours ago, you hated the obnoxious, reckless movie star and now you, God you can't even fully admit it to yourself, may even love the sweet, smart man standing in front of you.
"We, uh, need to go." You tell him when the cases are put in the back of the car.
Opening the car door with an exaggerated flourish, he blows as he waits for you to get in before him. Totally hamming it up for the cameras and generally being in a fantastic mood as he climbs in beside you. “You’re going to love the house.” He babbles. “Have to get rid of a few things, the toys that were used with others and whatnot, but it’s perfect.” He grins as he looks over at you. “Unless you want to see the toy collection first?” He asks with raised brows. “Pick out some that you want to keep? They’ve all been sanitized.”
You raise your eyebrows, "uh, how sanitized? You know...I think we can buy some new ones. Maybe pick them out together. That would be a good couples day for the paps. Bravo and wife seen shopping for sex toys." You tease, nudging his arm. "I need to move some things over, the main things I need for everyday, and I will need to get my passport and birth certificate to change my bank account for the time being. I won't legally change my name, just my status. Less complicated."
“Okay.” He pouts, but he won’t argue with you about that. He knows that this is a trial run and you could still decide to divorce him. “I need to order you a card anyway.” He pulls out his own phone to tap out a text message to his manager to get that done for him. “I’m assuming you’re keeping your place?”
You nod, “it’s an incredible rental. Great location. I have another six months left on the rent so I don’t want to let it go. I need somewhere to live. As for the card, I know we joke but I’m not a gold digger. I’ll use it for things for the house or for you but I won’t take advantage.”
He frowns, both at the idea of you going back and the comment about being a gold digger. “Sublet the place and you use the card for whatever you want.” He insists. “I don’t even look at the statements, they just get paid.”
You huff, knowing you can never win. You nod, knowing you won’t use the card unless you need to. You look out of the window and watch L.A pass by as you make your way to his home…your home for the next six months…or less. When you arrive at his home, you are impressed and automatically in love with it. “Your home is beautiful.” You haven’t been to his home before, always conducting meetings by zoom.
The thing that is surprising about where Dieter lives is that Sherman Oaks is a residential neighborhood. It’s not the party scene and he was careful not to let things get too crazy. But often his partying is done in hotels so the neighbors adore him. “We have a pool.” He announces, leering at you. “So you can lay by the pool naked and work on my publicity.” Waggling his brows, he imagines eating you out while you are on a phone call or typing up an email.
You imagine it for a moment, just enjoying your life in your new home until you remember it isn’t your new home, it’s your temporary home. “We will see, huh?” You offer him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and you know this entire experience can go two ways: 1) you fall for Dieter hook line and sinker, or 2) you hate him, truly hate him. With a sigh as the car comes to a stop, you thank the driver who opens the door for you and you adjust your purse on your shoulder as you admire the house.
He fidgets beside you, wondering what you think of the house. “I- you can change whatever you want.” He offers quickly. “We can hire a contractor or decorator or whatever.” He knows that most of the house is already decorated, but maybe it’s not to your taste. He gives a shrug. “I’m not sentimental about anything there.”
You shake your head, “it’s beautiful, Diet. Besides, it’s your home and I wouldn’t change anything since I’m going to be here for the next six months.” You say to yourself as much as you say it to him. With a sigh and no response, he guides you into the home, telling you to security codes as he unlocks everything, and he knows you will want to stay in a guest room. He picks the one closest to his bedroom and you admire how clean and pretty everything is. “This room is bigger than my entire apartment.” You joke, setting your purse down.
“I liked the space in this house.” He comments as he hovers in the doorway. The driver is depositing the bags in the entryway and he sighs. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He offers, feeling oddly depressed now that you’re here and you don’t seem very enthusiastic about being here.
****
It’s been a few days that you’ve lived with Dieter. He had arranged for movers to collect your things from your apartment and you managed to sublet it for six months. It’s been strange, living with Dieter but not actually living with him. A lot of your work is done remotely so you’ve been hanging around the house, working on the PR disaster of your own making, plus dealing with the interview requests that come in hourly.
Since you’re so stressed, you decide to take up Dieter’s idea of sitting out by the pool. He is in his art studio, manically painting something when you last looked in on him, and you strip off, wanting to feel the hot sun on your entire body. You hum in delight when you lay down on the lounger, spreading out to enjoy the heat and just relax.
Dieter is in his own private hell. You are here but he feels like he can’t touch you. There’s a wall between the two of you and despite the fact that he had promised you orgasms, you haven’t seemed open to sex. He’s snorted plenty of coke, groaning as his mind mellows out and feels his body relax into a blissful state. Looking out the large double doors to see that you are spread out bedside the pool, naked. Groaning, he grabs a bottle of wine and a glass abs ventures outside.
You hear him approach, his feet slapping on the concrete and you open one eye to look up at your husband. “Hello hubby.” You tease, “brought me some wine?” He nods and pours you a glass, handing it to you. “Thank you.” You sip it and moan in appreciation. “Are you going to get naked and sit in the sun too or are you gonna stand there all day blocking it?” You joke.
It’s an invitation, and Dieter isn’t turning it down. Reaching for the hem of his shirt to drag over his head before he pushes the baggy, paint stained sweats down. His cock isn’t hard, but it’s starting to get that way, seeing your tits on display. “I guess I’m joining you.”
The lounger is big enough for you both and you shuffle over to allow him to lay down. You sip your wine and hand the glass to him so he can take a sip. “How’s your painting coming along?” You ask, admiring him in the sun. God, he’s too sexy for your own good.
“It’s done.” He groans at the taste of the white that he had chosen. “It’s pretty good, I think, but you can see it if you want.” He hands the glass back over to you and nods towards your phone. “Getting my image back in pristine order?” He asks sarcastically, knowing he’s never had a great public image. He’s too much of a wild card.
You chuckle, "that's an impossible task. Those coke snorting photos are still on the internet." You tease, knowing he was younger then. "I am working on it though. Bit hard to paint you as a happily married man when you've been such a whore." You sip the wine, setting the glass down and shifting closer to him. You reach out to trace the tattoo on his chest, unable to stop yourself from touching him when he's so close.
“It’s not like people change.” He huffs, skin tingling when you touch him. “When you're single, who cares who you do?” He smirks over at you. “Not like you didn’t sleep with people, you just didn’t have everyone taking pictures of every one of them and keeping tabs like it was a lottery list of who I was going to fuck next.”
His words hit you and you realize how intense it has been for him to have his entire life under a microscope, constantly photographed. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with that. I have only dealt with it for a week and it has been intense. I can understand why you sought solace in drugs and sex." You look at him as you caress his chest, down to his tummy.
“I’m sorry.” Dieter murmurs softly, feeling bad that you’ve been put through this. “It’s one for the reasons that no one lasts.” He admits quietly. “They either can’t handle the pressure or all they wanted was the press.” He doesn’t mention that he was a shit partner. He was or maybe is (?) selfish. After all, you’re here when you don’t want to be.
You shake your head, looking at him, "you shouldn't be sorry. You are a successful actor. An Oscar winner. You have achieved greatness and you should be with a partner who appreciates that and understands that your life is under the public eye. That you are beloved by the masses. You need someone who can ground you and remind you of the simple things in life like cooking dinner or going for a walk on the beach. You are a good man Dieter, selfish sometimes, but you care too much and I think that's why you haven't found the right person for you."
He bites his lip to keep him from blurting out that he had, but she just hates him. At least doesn’t like him enough to stay married to him. Instead he plasters a shit eating grin. “I always like being ordered around.” He growls suggestively, meaning in the bedroom.
"Yeah?" You tease, sliding your hand lower until you are caressing his thigh, his half hard cock near your touch but you haven't touched him there since Vegas. "You want me to tell you what to do?" You murmur, shifting closer so you can kiss his neck, licking up to the tattoo he has behind his ear.
“Shiiiiiit.” He hisses softly, cock twitching. You touching him is like a drug if it’s own. Making his cock start to throb and grow as he hardens. “Yes.” He huffs out the whine, turning his head to beg him with his eyes. “Order me around.”
You grip his chin, keeping your eyes on him, and you lean closer. “I want you to let me ride your face. I want you to make me cum on your tongue.” You order, knowing he’s hard but you want him to have to wait. This moment is about you. You want to be in charge.
Whimpering, Dieter nods eagerly and pulls his chin out of your grip so that he can slide down the longer and lay flat. “Take a seat.” He groans, licking his lips in anticipation.
You shift, straddling his face, and you exhale shakily as you look down into those beautiful brown eyes, hungry as they flick between your face and your cunt. You lower your pussy to his face and he immediately grabs your hips, practically suffocating himself with your cunt as his tongue slides through your folds. "Fuck!" You yelp, moaning his name as you cling to the top of the lounger for balance.
He groans happily, tasting you and falling in love with the musky, tangy taste. His fingers dig into your hips and he drags you closer. He wants to suffocate himself in you, he would die a happy man right here with your weight on his tongue. Flicking his it against your clit, he groans into your folds when your thighs tighten around his head.
"Oh God baby. Feels so good." You pant, rocking your hips on his face, and you cry out when he sucks your clit between his lips. "Oh God yes." You cry, rocking your hips and using the lounger as leverage to ride his face.
He chuckles, loving that you are letting go. That woman that he had experienced in Vegas is here again, rocking her cunt on your face. Dieter slaps your ass and loves the way you squeal his name again, lurching forward and he slides his tongue deep into your walls, pressing his nose against your clit.
“Oh fuck.” You buck wildly, grinding down onto his mouth as his tongue probes deep, curling and his nose rubs your clit just right. “Shit baby. You’re gonna make me cum. Always - always know just what to do. You’re gonna make me cum and then - then I want you to fuck me. Want you to - to make me scream your name so loud, everyone in this goddamn neighborhood knows you are fuck- fucking me- oh fuck!” You squeal, thighs shaking as he hits just right, sending you over the edge.
You drench him, making him groan and rock you on his face more. Drinking down your juices as they pour into his mouth with a muffled moan of your name as you slowly grind down onto him. Happily coated in your cum and cock throbbing.
You shake above him, riding your orgasm and you move quickly despite the lethargy the orgasm grants you to shift back and straddle his thighs, gripping his cock to sink down on his hard cock while your walls still flutter from your orgasm.
“Shit!” Dieter cries out your name, shocked by the sudden way you engulf his cock in your pussy. “Oh fuck.” He looks up at you, pussy drunk and still wearing your juices as you start to move. “Oh fuck me baby.” He groans, grabbing and squeezing your tits while you bounce on him.
You want control and you take it, grabbing his wrists and pushing them back to rest against the lounger, stopping him touching you. "You don't get to touch me unless I tell you too." You order, starting to move your hips, grinding down onto his cock. You lean forward, biting down on his chin. "Your cock is mine, I decide when you cum. You understand?"
Wailing his agreement, Dieter nods frantically. “Yours, all yours baby. Oh fuck, it’s all yours.” He babbles. “Have- haven’t jerked off since we - we got back.” He confesses, blushing hotly at the fact.
The fact he hasn't touched himself makes you wild. You start to fuck him, rolling and rocking your hips frantically like you can't get enough of him. "Oh fuck. That - this cock really is mine. Fuck Dieter. It's so good. No one has ever made me feel like this. Love it. Love it." You ramble, sweat beading on your brow as you ride him like a damn bronco.
His fingers wrap around the lounger slats desperate to obey your orders and not touch you. God, he wants to. Your tits are bouncing and he wants to suck on them. He wants to slap your ass and beg you to go faster, to use him to make yourself cum again. “Love- l-love it.” He agrees breathlessly.
Your nails dig into his wrists as you desperately seek your orgasm. “Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You lean forward a little more so the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs your clit and it sends you over the edge. Coming to an abrupt stop above him as your thighs shake, a wail escaping your lips as you cum, soaking his cock.
Keening at the hot rush of liquid covering him, he bucks up into you. Knowing that he is on the edge but your words linger in the back of his mind. “Can- can I cum?” He begs. “Please, oh fuck, please let me cum.”
You ride your orgasm, catching your breath as you look down to see the desperate look in his eyes. “Not. Yet.” You say through gritted teeth, starting to rock on him again. “I want to cum once more. Do not cum.” You order, wanting him desperate and whining and pleading.
Whimpering, Dieter clenches his eyes shut, knowing that he can’t look at you. If he watches you cum again, he won’t be able to hold back. “Fuck Bravo, think about stocks. Think about your bullshit dealer.” He hisses quietly, trying to keep from cumming before you let him as he shuffles his legs under you and tries not to cum.
You giggle at his struggle until you moan when you find the right spot inside of you. “Oh fuck Dieter. Feel so good. So good.” You moan, cupping his cheeks after letting go of his wrists. “Keep your hands where they are. You can’t touch.” You remind him, biting down on his bottom lip to stop his ramblings. You are so close to another orgasm, your thighs burning while you grind down onto him.
“Fuck.” He hisses, pouting at you. “You’re so- so, fuck.” His back bows slightly when you clench down around him and he cries out in frustration. “Fuck baby, I-I-I need to cum!”
"No!" You gasp, on the precipice of your own orgasm and you want to deny him. He gets whatever he wants and you have a chance to control this, make him beg. You cup his cheeks before you slap him, making his cock throb inside of you, so close to busting his nut. "Beg. Fucking beg me." You demand, breathless with how close you are.
“Let me cum, please, please, please let me cum.” Dieter whines, his eyes popping open and pleading with you desperately. “Please baby, please I want- I need- oh fuck.” His body goes taunt and his hand grips the slat of the lounger so hard he breaks it, trying to keep himself from cumming.
His pleas send you over the edge and you whine his name as you cum, clamping down on his cock and soaking him again. "Cum for me. Cum for me." You order with a squeal, "fucking cum."
Shouting your name, Dieter follows your order immediately. Whining and whimpering while he experiences the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, not even cognizant of what is coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you.”
You freeze on top of him, your entire body going cold as you look down at him. “What did you say?” You whisper. You lean back to look at him, his cock still twitching inside of you and he is blissed out, eyes rolling into his head. “What did you say?” You ask louder, heart pounding in your chest.
Sighing and relaxing, Dieter reaches down and caresses your sides. “Fuck baby.” He pants softly, eyes still closed with a smile on his face. “God I love you.” He slurs and sighs again. “That - was, Jesus, I must have cum a fucking gallon’s worth.”
You slap his chest, shifting to get off of his cock. "Oh my God. What have you done?" You choke, grabbing your towel to wrap it around yourself as you walk into the house, tears stinging in your eyes as you absorb his words, most likely said in the heat of the moment.
Dieter sits up, dumbfounded and staring after you. “What did I do?” He demands loudly, calling after you, but you are already gone. He flops back onto the lounger and huffs, confused and hurt that you hate him so much that you play hot and cold with him. It’s cruel.
After his lust fueled confession, you stay away from Dieter, and avoid him whenever you can. Going to coffee shops to work or going out for lunch by yourself. It's not good for his PR but you manage to go to less popular areas to avoid the paps and anyone taking photos of "Mrs. Bravo" alone. You feel guilty, essentially abandoning your husband but you imagine he has some new pussy or ass to fuck that has distracted him. You usually go to your room, avoiding him, and feeling guilty and angry at your own silly emotions.
Since you left him alone, he’s drank, a lot. Realizing that you don’t love him and it’s almost enough to sober him. Ironic, he fucked around and did whatever he wanted for so long, but now he’s wanting the one person he can’t have. His head is pounding and he wants something to eat that didn’t come from a bag, so he shuffles downstairs to see if there is anything in the fridge. Hating how he feels even more alone than he did before his birthday.
You are bringing in groceries when you find Dieter rifling through the pantry. "You hungry?" You ask, speaking to him for the first time in God knows how long. You can see the dark circles under his eyes and the stains on his clothes. He hasn't been taking care of himself. "I can cook us something. Sit down." You order, setting the grocery bags on the counter.
“‘M fine.” Dieter mumbles, ready to slink off to another part of the house again. To wallow in the misery that he’s created. He’s good at that. “Just gonna order something.”
"Sit down." You tut, knowing he hasn't eaten properly. He never does unless you arrange it. He gets too in his head, too in his art and you know he's been studying that new script. "Sit down and let me make you something." You reach into the fridge to get him a beer and set it down on the counter before you put the groceries away, figuring out a quick pasta meal to cook.
Grunting, he twists the top off the bottle and gulps down half of it before setting it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand he watches you move through the kitchen as if you own it. “What did I do?” He asks quietly, staring at the counter so he doesn’t have to look at you. He can tell the world to fuck off, but he’s terrified of you hating him.
You set the tomato sauce down and turn back towards him. “You- we agreed to do this for six months and then you go - you told me you loved me. I don’t know if that was in the moment but Dieter - I can’t - you don’t love me. You just - I’m the closest person to you right now so you think you do but you don’t love me.” You turn from him so he doesn’t see the pain in your eyes.
Dieter snorts and huffs out a laugh. “Wow. So you know me that well huh?” He spits, irritated that you keep looking down on him. Treating him like he’s the gum on the bottom of your shoe. “You told me you’d give me an honest chance for six months.” He reminds you. “Nice to know you're counting down the days.” The chair he had sat in scrapes back as he stands. “Wonder why I’m an asshole? I admit how I feel and I get ghosted by my wife. But you don’t really want to be my wife. You’re just biding time.” He tosses the rest of the beer in the trash. “I lost my appetite.” He tells you, turning to walk out of the kitchen, desperate to snort something to make him not give a shit.
You stare as he rushes out of the kitchen, tears stinging in your eyes and you turn to flick off the stove. You clench your jaw, suddenly angry at his dismissal. He always gets the last word. You set the spatula down and follow him, banging your hand on his bedroom door after he slammed it. “You’re such a coward. You told me when you had just cum. What was I supposed to think? That you actually meant it? It’s torture living here. Knowing that you don’t really love me, you’re just - you need attention whereas I am actually in fucking love with your selfish ass and yet I can’t escape because you let us get married while I was high. I just - I hate you. I love you! I love you too, you fucking prick. Is that what you want to hear? Because I do. I can’t stop thinking about you and I thought that if I avoided you I’d save us both the heartache when you move on to the next best thing and instead you decide to mop around and then you - God, I don’t know what to do. You’ve complicated this by making me fall for you.” You slump against the wall opposite the double doors to his bedroom suite.
Snatching the door open, Dieter growls, ready for a fight. “Then fucking leave!” He hiss, grabbing you by the arms and dragging you upright. His eyes are dark and passionate. “Leave if you’re so goddamn miserable, because I’m fucking miserable. I just want to-“ he doesn’t say another word, just crushes his lips to yours desperately. Breaking down and confessing his worst fear. “Don’t leave me.” He begs between sloppy kisses, hands pulling you closer. “Don’t. Fucking. Leave.”
You react immediately to his words, reaching for him to tangle your fingers in his hair and you press your lips to his again. “I don’t want to leave.” You admit against his mouth, sighing his name as you slide your tongue between his lips, finally feeling like you’re home.
He pulls you back and starts to steer you towards his bedroom. He needs to touch you, to taste you. Pushing you through the doors as he continues to keep kissing you. Pawing at your dress in a desperate attempt to get it off of you while he keeps his mouth locked to yours.
“Wait. Wait baby.” You push on his chest, groaning when his lips attach to your neck. “Baby. I - I am on my period.” You warn him, not wanting him to be surprised or grossed out when he fucks you. He might decide not to, if it’s not his thing.
Scoffing, he bites down on your pulse and pulls away. “So? It’s natural.” He tells you casually. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to lick your pussy until you cum for me.”
You shiver at his words, realizing once again how different he is compared to your exes. That’s why you love him. “Oh God. You are insatiable.” You joke, letting him guide you back towards his massive bed. You haven’t been in here before.
He snickers and nips at your collar bone before he pushes you back onto the plush bed. Throwing off his shirt, he keeps the sweats on, knowing he will want to rush if he strips off too fast. “Yep.” He watches as you pull off your dress and he reaches for your panties, far more practical for your time of the month than sexy. “Period panties turn me on.” He jokes, winking at you. “Played a vampire once.”
You let him drag your panties down and he pushes your legs open, exposing your folds, and you fluster when Dieter finds the string of your tampon. “I- you can leave it in. You don’t - I know it’s not - God I have never done this before.” You fluster, covering your face, “can you leave it in?”
He thinks it’s adorable that you are so worked up over a tampon being inside you. “You’re so fucking cute.” He coos, wiggling his hips and settling between your spread thighs. “Don’t worry baby, it just tastes a little coppery.” He chuckles and peels your lips apart with his thumb. “Not even messy, besides-“ you pull your hands down from your face and look at him. “I eat my steaks rare.” He jokes before he flattens his tongue against your clit.
Your groan is a combination of embarrassment at his words and pleasure of his tongue flicking over your clit. With a whine, you buck your hips into his face and reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Fuck.” You sigh in bliss, having missed this…missed him. “Always so good. You’re so good at that.” You moan when he sucks on your clit.
He wants to make this good for you. Needing you to feel loved and taken care of. Plus he doesn’t mind the way you taste at all. He hums against your flesh when you tug on his hair and grind shamelessly down on his face.
“God, that feels so good, baby. So good. I love it. I- oh shit.” Your head rolls into the pillow, so sensitive from your period, and it doesn’t take long to work you up to your orgasm. His name escapes his lips as you cum when he sucks on your clit.
He groans along with you while you ride out your bliss, watching you carefully and pulling away to kiss your inner thighs while your chest heaves. “Can I fuck you, baby?” He asks softly between kisses. He’s had enough lovers to know that every woman is different during their period. He’s a selfish asshole, but he’s not that big of a dick to expect or demand sex.
“I don’t - I’m sorry. I don’t really like sex during my period. It hurts too much. Can I- I want to jerk you off. Want to watch you cum.” You offer, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his thin sweats.
Dieter kisses your stomach and shuffles up to lay down beside you. “You don’t have to, sweetheart. I don’t expect it.” He promises. “I’m not going to be upset if you just want to lay here and rest.”
“I want to make you cum. Please.” You lean forward to kiss his neck, reaching for his sweats and when he doesn’t push your hand away, you reach in to wrap your fingers around his cock, pulling him free of his sweats. “Such a gorgeous cock and it’s all mine.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you start to pump him in your hand.
Groaning, Dieter turns his head and chases your lips. “All yours.” He pants into your mouth, groaning again when you squeeze the head. “Fuck, all yours.” He’s needy, lifting his hips into your grip but he doesn’t care. Your touch feels so much better than his own and he wants to fall apart to it.
You love how eager he is for you, and you twist your wrist as you pump him, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock, and you slide your tongue into his mouth when he whines your name. “I love you, baby.” You murmur against his lips, pumping him a little faster before you squeeze the head again, swiping your thumb over it to gather more pre-cum.
Shuddering under your confession, he groans. “Fuck, gonna cum baby.” He warns you, cock throbbing in your hand and one twist of your wrist, he’s cumming. Painting his chest with hot ropes of his sticky seed while you milk him of every drop while he whines. “Love you.”
You work him through it, loving the wrecked look on his face as he enjoys his orgasm. You kiss all over his face when he relaxes, “so beautiful.” You whisper before bringing your hand up to your mouth to lick his cum from your digits.
“I do love you.” Dieter promises softly. “It’s - I know you think that it’s just some kind of amusement or passing fancy. But I do.” He reaches over and cups your cheek. “I don’t regret marrying you in Vegas for a second.”
You smile, shifting to snuggle into his side, uncaring of his drying cum. “Me neither. I thought I did at first but I look back on it and it was just…comfortable. Like it was meant to be. I know we have a lot to discuss for our future and I know it’s gonna have bumps in the road but I don’t want to pretend to be Mrs. Bravo anymore, I want to be Mrs. Bravo. I want to be yours, your wife. I love you Dieter and I’m so sorry I’ve been such a bitch. It’s just - it’s been a lot to work through and I have needed time to figure out how I feel. I know what I feel and I know what I want…a life with you.”
Dieter beams happily, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Good.” He chuckles against your lips. “Because I want you to be Mrs. Bravo. For real. Us, together.” He waggles his brows. “Will you move into the bedroom with me?” He asks. “Let me snuggle you after sex at least once?”
You smile, nodding at him. “Yes. I’d like that baby. I’d like that a lot.” You sigh, breathing him in.
“And I want babies.” He adds, making you choke.
“One step at a time, my love. We have a lot to figure out but we will do it all together.” You promise and he smiles, nudging his nose against yours.
“Together. I like the sound of that, Mrs. Bravo.”
You giggle, giddy with happiness that he loves you. “Me too, Mr. Bravo.”
#pedro pascal#dieter bravo#dieter bravo x reader#dieter bravo x you#dieter bravo x f!reader#dieter bravo smut#dieter bravo imagine#dieter bravo fanfiction#dieter bravo the bubble
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Refuge | chapter four.
series masterlist | previous chapter | next chapter | general masterlist
chapter four: changes.
wordcount: 2.1k
summary: the aftermath of everything that has been warnings: estrangement, recovery from trauma, mentions of child death. some fluff
a/n: reshuffling over! lmk ur thoughts <3
You stayed true to your word.
You started your own book club; letting the gossiping, brutal women of Jackson into your safe haven and their shrill giggles fill your bookshop. You even smiled along, a quick flash of your teeth assuring them all that you considered yourself one of them even when theydidn’t think so. You knew it’d get back to Maria if you didn’t cooperate.
It wasn’t too bad, though. The book club whispered about Joel, sure - but only until you walked into the room. It was all nervous grins and terrible changes of topic after that, with their breaths held and eyes darting. They were scared of you; you’d gained a reputation after the…incident.
Speaking of Maria, she hadn’t so much as approached you. No, she lurked in the shadows, with tight-lipped smiles and apologetic winces. Fred was eating solids now, and Maria practically had her tongue in his ass every time you saw them. You saw the judgement in their eyes. Straigtening, you turned away.
Tommy had come by and sat down for a cup of tea, spending hours straightening everything out. You’d forgiven him, despite not understanding why he hid Joel from you.Maybe he was a coward. Maybe he was just an idiot. You didn’t care. Either ways, he was truly sorry. That was enough.
You looked different now. Like a lion with blunt, rounded claws, and teeth that had been pulled out by a merciless owner for his amusement. Your hair and your nails and your appetite were better, easier to look at. Gone was the animalistic fervor that had once been written on your face. Your cheeks were fuller now, flushed in the cold; eyes softer too.
You looked like her again. Sarah’s mother, Joel’s wife. You. The mirrors in your house found themselves draped with old bedsheets. Their reflection was a jarring, cruel sight you’d long stopped looking at.
You couldn’t shake the thought that Sarah would have hated what you became - weak, timid, broken. You could picture it - the frown; Joel’s frown - and the way she’d curl her bottom lip out. Aching for her was inevitable.
If there was a God, you would have begged Him to let you die in her place. But there wasn’t, so you decided to live for her, instead.
Each rise of the sun signified battle, more ground to cover and another step to take. To get out of bed, to change, to shower. To open the shop, to wave at people, to smile.
And in the dark hours when the sun’s warmth abandoned you, familiar shadows crept into your room to wrap themselves around you once again. They crawled into your mind and festered within you; a sickness with no cure. Under the safety of your blanket, the tears would come - and with them, the panic. All you had to ground you were two words that served as both your blessing, and your curse. A brand marring the flesh of your psyche; seared into your soul.
I lived.
Sisyphus was punished for cheating death, too, wasn’t he?
You established a strict routine. Wake, shower, change. Go on a walk, pick flowers, go to the store, open the shop. Repeat.
A lifeline, really, to stop you from scratching at the plaster on your walls. You’d forgotten how exhausting it was to pretend being okay when you weren’t. You’d forgotten how exhausting it was to fall apart alone, too. It left a bitter taste on your tongue.
The good days were good, but the bad ones were terrible. Hands would grasp at your mouth, your neck, your chest, limbs growing heavy; and you’d be underwater again.
You stayed in bed longer on those days. The routine would fall apart, and so would you.
Against all odds - and intent - you made a new friend. It started with a grin from across the street, making you look over your shoulder in confusion. Surely that was meant for someone else? Brows furrowing at the empty street behind you, you’d reciprocated- but the grimace on your face was unyielding, lips stretching in an awkward baring of your teeth. You walked home faster that day, that replying laugh ringing in your ears. A warm, infectious grin turned into a smirk, paired with a “Hi!” you couldn’t resist replying to. Until you walked into her at the store, not having the heart to turn down her offer to walk home with you, realising you couldn't resist replying to everything else, either. The circumstances of your initial meeting were forgotten, and a bond was forged; purely because of the way her eyes twinkled with excitement, forgoing pleasantries for an exclamation that made you laugh.
“I can’t believe you’re such a badass, I mean-not that you can’t be, just that I wasn’t expecting it, y’ know?”
You’d quickly found that once she started talking, it took the threat of a clicker for Ellie to stop. And since you were in Jackson, and the threat non-existent, she prattled in your ear for nearly half an hour before you excused yourself. Initially, you’d been overwhelmed with her monologues - and a little concerned with the low number of breaths she took in between the rush of words that came tumbling out of her mouth. Nevertheless, there was something about the adorable way that she said exactly what was on her mind that warmed you up towards her, her constant chattering carving a way into your heart.
I didn’t know Joel had a wife. God, when I met you I thought you were a little scary, maybe even a little weird, y’ know? I mean, you did kinda try to stab me with a pen? But that’s ok - Joel told me you didn’t know about Sarah. I’m really sorry about her, by the way. I know you said you didn’t want people to be sorry but like, I am. Plus, you’re nice to me now, so it doesn’t matter. You run a bookshop, right? Wait-do you have comics? Or joke books?
Her answering squeal at the dip of your chin had made you smile - the first, genuine time your lips had stretched and lifted of their own volition - and so began yet another ritual. Ellie came by almost everyday, ignoring you when you said she could take home whatever she liked, arguing with a I have an excuse to visit you now! It all works out, see. She’d sit, and you’d make her some tea-she hated coffee, and her description of no wonder Joel’s so bitter all the time nearly made you giggle- and you’d both talk, or read, or just sketch together.
It quickly became your favorite part of each day.
Sometimes, she’d bring her friends too. They’d giggle about stupid jokes and shoot each other longing glances while thumbing through the pages of books they hadn’t even read the cover of, clearly neglecting their reading in favor of much better, important things like how stupid is Eugene’s new haircut? The fact that they got to have these moments at all - in your bookshop of all places (adolescence breeds fragility in spaces considered “safe” enough) - soothed a raw, gaping wound you hadn’t noticed before. The sounds of their laughter scared the nightmares for a few hours.
Though, you suppose calling them nightmares wouldn’t be quite so apt anymore. Memories, more like. The image of Joel’s knees on your vinyl tiles, was one you saw every time you closed your eyes. Shoulders slack, hands trembling and bloodshot eyes. Lips wobbling and voice cracking; the deafening silences of his confirmation. Repentance.
You wanted to turn back time; to pull his hands into yours, to kiss away his tears and let him bury his head into your shoulder, like he used to. To hold him and tell him over and over not to join his palms; not to kneel.
One repents only for the sins they have committed.
Sarah’s death was not his fault.
Tommy told you how it happened. And you hadn’t slept for a week when you found out she died in his arms. The distance between you and him was suffocating. The gaping maw of a chasm threatening to swallow you whole.
It hurt more to know he was within your reach, yet just out of grasp.
He had shut himself away this time. The fight with Ellie had supposedly gotten worse - though you hadn’t yet intervened; you didn’t know if you still had the place to. Joel didn’t leave the house except for necessities and to go on his patrols. You only knew because you'd been at the store one day when you saw him. Eyes sunken, cheeks hollower, beard overgrown and scraggly. Fingers inching towards him, you’d barely opened your mouth when his eyes had locked on yours, and he’d promptly turned away to walk out.
You didn’t open the bookshop that day. Or leave your bed again, for that matter.
Ellie had stood outside in the cold for hours.
You didn’t blame him for his isolation. The lack of contact between you both had become another scandal in Jackson, providing many ladies with the wondrous opportunity to appoint themselves to make him casseroles and cookies and cakes and whatever the fuck else they were making him, shameless enough to leave it at his door when he stopped opening it for them. Again, you said nothing. Again, you didn’t know if you still held the place.
The attention he got was unsettling, but expected. It had been the same before the outbreak, too. Jealousy, however, was a feeling that didn’t come to you often. Joel hadn’t ever given you anything to be jealous about.
Which was why you weren’t sure what to make of that woman - Tess. You weren’t upset with Joel. You just didn’t know how to feel. He thought you were dead, too. The world ended, Sarah died. Tommy left. He had no one. If her presence eased the burden on his back, the smudges of blue on his lips, or the wild, haunted look in his eyes, you felt comforted by the fact that she was with him. She had died for him and Ellie. That alone, made you pick a flower in her remembrance every single morning, putting it in your window as a reminder for yourself. She saved him; she was the reason he was here at all.
Which was why you hated that the idea of her still stung a little. You felt stupid, wanted to claw your hair and pinch the back of your hand. You didn’t even know if Joel still considered himself your husband, and yet the thought of him with someone else still made your clothes feel too tight.
You always picked the brightest flower.
It was on one of your worst days, when your mind had been spitting vile, spiteful quips at you that you cracked. That the silence between you and him transformed into a brutal, merciless thing; gripping your throat and making you choke on your tears as you lay in bed.
You hated him.
For the limbo he’d thrown you into. He’d defend you to Maria but he wouldn’t talk to you. He’d fight with Ellie, threaten Fred, but he’d walk out of a store if he saw you.
He hates me. He hates me and blames me and Tess would have been so much better. Tess should have survived. He hates me for living. Sarah should be here. Tess should be here. But they aren’t, and he’s left with me, and he hates me.
All you knew was you needed him. You flung your blanket off and bolted down your stairs, without thinking. A steady chant of his name overtook your mind, wiping away everything else. You flung your door open, defenseless against the frigid bite in the air as you stood in nothing but a shirt that hung loose on your frame and shorts that didn’t even reach your knees. And you ran, barefoot, until you were shivering, staring at his porch. Wracking your mind, you tried to come up with an excuse or an idea or something to explain your presence at three fucking am, sinking your teeth into your lip in irritation at the absolute blank you faced.
Until you heard a sniffle, from the other side of the door.
You didn’t realise you’d reached his door until your fist was rapping against it, softly. You didn’t know what to say until the words it’s me had already left your mouth.
The sound of a muffled thud reached you, and a shuffle. A pause at the door - as if in deliberation. You held your breath.
And waited.
hello loves, as always - thank you for reading. comment your thoughts or find me on ao3. stay hydrated and have a great day! taglist (message to be taken off, no issues): @imherefordeanandbones, @theywhowriteandknowthings, @josephquinnswhore, @millerscoffee, @nostalxgic, @sscorpiiio, @pedrosaidsheispunk, @its-nebuleuse, @sofiparallel, @mandoisapunk, @bastardmandennis, @pawnshopb1ues, @amanitacowboy, @party-hearses, @planet-marz1, @chiogarza, @jenispunk, @spookyxsam, @obscurexsorrows, @lunxramour, @anavatazes, @joeldjarin, @stunkbiggu, @joels-darlin, @casa-boiardi, @noisynightmarepoetry, @jasminedragoon, @daddy-din, @moonlightdivine, @stickthegremlin, @jamesmasbone, @avampiregf, @wannab-urs, @for-a-longlongtime, @javierpena-inatacvest
#the last of us#tlou fanfiction#joel miller x you#the last of us fanfiction#tlou hbo#joel miller x f!reader#the last of us x reader#joel miller x female reader#the last of us fic#joel miller fanfic#dark joel x reader#joel miller#joel miller angst#joel miller au#joel miller comfort#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller hurt/comfort#joel miller imagine#joel miller self insert#joel miller the last of us#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel the last of us#joel x reader#joel and ellie#joel tlou#tlou#tlou series#the last of us series#tlou2
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When I made "Lunar" someone asked for a legacy challenge for human sims. So I finally wrote one!
Since some people don't like big legacies because it takes forever to finish, I made another small legacy! Only 5 gens.
If you know my stories from twitter or my "pamsimmerstories" you know I usually use a lot of adult themes and this is not different, so be aware this can be a little dark.
TW: Spouse death, while giving birth; Drug Use, alcohol and other drugs; Child Abuse, Neglect; Infetility
LEGACY CHALLENGE: "Dream Odyssey"
Basic Rules:
Start as a Young Adult - any gender you want
Normal/Long lifespan (which one you prefer)
You can use freerealestate cheat if you want to begin.
When I put ( / ) is because you can choose what you prefer or if you don’t have said pack you can choose the base game one.
Colors are not mandatory, but it could be fun?!
Requirements: Cottage Living, University, City Living, Nifty Knitting, Horse Ranch, Get Famous, Get Together, Snowy Scape, Island Living, Seasons, Parenthood.
Mods recommendations (Not required):
McCommand Center,
UI Cheats,
Long Distance Learning,
RPO.
Basemantal Drugs
Generation 1: “Dandelions” by Ruth B.
You moved from your parents to live in a big city and go to your dream college (San Myshuno Institute)*. You’ve always wanted to be a doctor/veterinarian and this was finally happening!
One day you met the love of your life in between classes (preferably someone you met that is also at uni) you get married, but one day you caught them cheating and you feel like this is the end of the world.
So you leave everything and go to Henford on Bagley and become a farmer. You meet someone that makes you open up again and you two have a beautiful family.
*if you don’t want to use mods like the ”Long Distance Learning” by Ravasheen, you can just pretend you’re going there living in San Myshuno
Traits: Good, Animal Enthusiast/Loves the Outdoors, The last one you pick, to make things interesting, pick a bad trait like high maintenance
Career: Start as University Student in San Myshuno (you can finish it and start the career or you can just drop university in the middle of your term); End up as a farmer in Henford
Skills: Logic/Vetenerian and Cross-Stitch
Hobby: Cross-Stitch or Knitting
Aspiration: Country Caretaker
Relationship: fall in love at university, get cheated on, runaway to Henford and meet someone new. You can have children with the first one if you want to or you can wait until you meet the second sim. It’s up to you.
Color: Green/Yellow
Generation 2: “High” by Miley Cyrus
You grew up in the middle of a bunch of animals, your parent was a nature freak and you became one as well. But your kind of animal is a bit different from your parent. You love horses and you dream in live at Chestnut Ridge and have your own horse and participate in competitions and earn money from it.
You find love, but when your wife is giving birth to your baby, she dies (your sim could be a woman and you use cheats to make her pregnant and if you don’t use mods as RPO/Pandasama you can also cheat to kill the sim).
[The Sims 4 killing cheats: [death.toggle true - kill your Sim] I've never used it, so I don't know if it really works]
So you see yourself as a single parent juggling between parenting and taking care of your horse and participating of competitions.
Traits: Horse Lover, Rancher, the last trait you choose.
Career: Autonomous as Horse Competitor, you can try odd jobs as well
Skills: Riding, Painting/Nectar Making
Hobby: Painting/Nectar Making
Aspiration: Championship Rider
Relationship: Meet someone, become a widow/er. You can find love again if you wish.
Color: Orange
Generation 3: “No Love In LA” by Palaye Royale
When you were born your mother died and you never met her. Your other parent was always busy with his horses and competitions that you now hate Chestnut.
You want more for your life. As soon as you age up, you go to Del Sol Valley and you’re finally able to follow your dream of becoming a star! You want to be a famous actor/actress. But not everything is like you thought it would be, you thought you would become a 5 star celebrity quickier than you did. But you never give up.
Find a celebrity and get married to them just for fame (I guess you’re gonna need cheats for them to meet).
[Modify Relationship
You'll need the full name of your Sim and the celebrity Sim (or vice versa). If it doesn't work, try " LTR_Friendship_Main" at the end.] (I also never tested this one...but in case you don't have mods, try this)
One day you’re gonna meet someone who’s a nobody and fall in love, you’re gonna cheat on your partner and get pregnant/get someone pregnant.
You have two choices:
leave your spouse and be with your love or
stay in a unhappy marriage and pretend the cheating never happened (if your sim is a male, never talk to the pregnant sim again and one day a child shows up at your door, this is gonna be the heir. And if your sims is a female, pretend the kid is your husband’s child. It doesn’t matter, you’re gonna fail as a parent no matter what).
Traits: Self-Assured, Ambitious, and a bad trait of your choosing
Career: Actor
Skills: Acting, Dancing, Photography
Hobby: Photography and also dancing, go to nightclubs often, drink a lot (if you don’t play with mods pretend your sims is an alcoholic, if you play with mods like basemental your sim is definitely an alcoholic and maybe had a drug addiction, let’s go dark here)
Aspiration: Master Actor
Relationship: Marry for fame and cheat on your partner and get pregnant of impregnate someone this is how your heir is gonna be made.
Color: Red
Generation 4: “Flares” by The Script
Your parent should never be a parent.
You grew up in a spolight because of your parent, but you hate it. Everything is so fucked up and you just want to run away as far as possible.
When you become a teen, you're going to run away from home and go to Mt Komorebi, drop from school and work in a part time job.
To scape your own mind you start a few hobbies such as snowboarding/skiing/climbing.
When you’re young adult you meet someone while doing one of those things and you two fall in love. You two start a family and are very happy.
Traits: Adventurous, Loner, and a trait of your preference
Career: Teen: Part Time Job; Young Adult: Salaryperson
Skills: Two of these: (You can choose: Snowboarding/Skiing/Climbing)
Hobby: Choose two from 3 (Snowboarding/Skiing/Climbing)
Aspiration: Extreme Sports Enthusiast
Relationship: Find love when your sim is a young adult and this sim is gonna be actually happy :)
Color: Grey
Generation 5: “Light” by Sleeping At Last
Your parents were loving and you loved Mt Komorebi, but you feel like you need to run away from the cold mountains of Mt Komorebi.
When you grow up you want to live in a summery place, so you choose Sulani.
You fall in love more than once, but your relationships never work. You’re also infertile, but you want a kid so baaaad, so you decide to adopt one after years of trying.
You're going to raise a kid alone, maybe get yourself a dog as well? You want to be the best parent someone could be.
Traits: Family Oriented, Child of the Ocean, and a third trait of your choosing
Career: Any of the freelancer careers
Skills: Parenting, Flower Arrenging/Singing
Hobby: Flower Arrenging/Singing
Aspiration: Superparent
Relationship: All your relationships will fail, no matter how hard you try. One day you finally realize it and just accept that you’re going to be alone and you can be happy like this. Then you adopt a child (could be a baby if you want to) and maybe a pet as well.
Color: Blue
#the sims 4#ts4#sims 4#ts4 gameplay#the sims 4 gameplay#ts4 simblr#simblr#the sims community#legacy challenge#small legacy challenge#sims 4 legacy
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Venture Bros.: Radiant is the Blood of the Baboon Heart commentary and extras.
This is what I gathered during my first watch. Hopefully, I'll be able to upload the audio bits like I did for seasons 1-7 eventually! I'll catch all the little details then 💛
Let me get this out of the way. They did not answer the most important question of all.
In the past, Doc and Jackson have said that what they say in the commentary isn't necessarily canon. What is canon is what's in the actual show, not what they explore outside of the show because they're always changing their minds. Sometimes they disagreed while answering questions. Take that as you'd like.
Jonas didn’t abandon The Monarch after the plane crash intentionally. He assumed he died or he ran away before he got there. They hinted that Jonas downed the plane himself.
When asked if Jonas loved Rusty they say he’s a bad person, the villain of the show, and a monster. Jackson thinks he might have been a boy adventurer himself. They compare him to baby boomers forcing their children to live the lives they wanted themselves.
Does Rusty have the other twin killed when only one dies? Jackson says only when they witness the death. He referenced Ice Station Impossible. Brock has done it before.
Ritchie Valens refused to join The Guild and Red Mantle and Dragoon’s (Buddy Holly and The Big Bopper) initiation was to kill him so he wouldn’t tattle.
Doc says the second sons are the ones who succeed in The Guild, not the first sons, because they’re most likely to become evil and that’s why Dean was chosen as The Guild’s successor.
Doc described two episodes he would like to do: 1. "Heads in the water." Which is the heads of characters bobbing in the water after a crash for the entire episode. An all dialog bottle episode. 2. An episode that starts off like a regular Venture Bros episode. Then a henchman dies and everything pivots. 21 calls his wife and says “Real sorry but your husband died in service” (Doc put on his 21 voice here). We then see the wife and daughter (from another marriage) and follow them in their lives.
What is The Monarch's favorite ABBA song? Doc thinks Waterloo and Jackson thinks Take a Chance. They riff as Monarch and Dr. Girlfriend for a few seconds.
Gary's a big Sneaker Pimps fan.
Rusty doesn't have a middle name. If you ask Rusty he'll say the S stands for sexy or science or SUPER science. Rusty’s favorite musical is Starlight Express or RENT (Jackson disagreed). He's never actually watched them but he likes the advertisements.
Brock Frog is the guy that "brings in bagels". A 3rd generation Italian American from "bricklayer stock." He fell out with his dad because he wanted to bring bricks into the future. He teamed up with Professor Vigo Dale, who screwed him out of half of the company after Brick Frog gave him all of his brick ideas.
Mantilla has the ability to make things invisible by touching them but claimed it was teleportation. “It’s all bullshit…and she had money from her past”
Mantilla has been "garbage picking" from The Monarch’s trash, such as Dr. Mrs.'s costume ideas in season 3 that she had thrown away and their wedding invitation.
The guys in the warehouse with Jefferson were all roommates in the 90s.
We would have had a full episode of Force Majeure and Jonas Venture's rivalry.
We would have had another episode of Billy and Colonel Gentleman "John Wicking" after Mischa was found dead right before a doggy costume contest.
Matt Berry was supposed to voice Force Majeure.
Why does The Monarch hate Doc so much? Jackson says “Obviously it (the thought that Debra left him for Rusty) bothers him a little more than he said.”
They called Gary's hair “the popular millennial cut” and made him "half Glen Danzig half Wolverine."
Doc has drunk his own urine multiple times because they pee in bottles in the Astrobase. "Recently".
During the last scene in the movie when everyone is talking, Gary and Hatred were talking about a loofah. Hatred asked Gary "Ah...you use a loofah?". Dr. O was talking about intermittent fasting.
24 made a guest appearance in the "Fan Questions" extra for a few seconds.
They refused to answer the questions about Scare Bear and what Rusty and Billy were doing in the time machine in case they're able to continue the story.
They made a joke about telling people just enough in the commentary to get them excited and want more. (A “joke” haha)
During Prom, Pete and Billy would have studied the Push It video extensively. Pete would’ve entered the dance floor and “boxed it out” to make space. Billy would’ve walked in the circle nonchalantly. Then they would have recreated the entire dance.
youtube
#venture bros commentary#venture bros#henchman 21#vbros#the venture brothers#the monarch#the venture bros#gary fischer#dr mrs the monarch#rusty venture#pete white#billy quizboy#dr orpheus#brick frog#mantilla#jonas venture#force majeure#radiant is the blood of the baboon heart spoilers#radiant is the blood of the baboon heart#brock samson
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Do you think Adam will come back as a demon, having to redeem himself? It kind of feels like that's where the few hints at smth deeper going on with him are going.
Hi!
I mean, there is this:
As Charlie and Emily sing about amoral angels staying in the sky, the focus is on Adam and he looks very triggered. I also personally hope he comes back because I think his character offers great opportunities to explore others. Like Lucifer, Lute, Sera, Lilith and Charlie herself. That said, I am also okay if he is meant as a one-season villain tbh. In this case, I trust it is because the story has other plot-lines to follow. Also, it would be an hilarious call-back to his line:
A man only lives once, we'll see you in one month
Gotta say, I can't wait to
Come down and exterminate you
Adam, you're either right in how THE man only lives once, or you are so wrong and Charlie is so right, that you yourself get a second chance :P
That said, I think there is clearly more about Adam, Eve, Lilith and Lucifer's dynamic that needs to be addressed (either through Adam coming back or in other ways):
The series starts with the retelling of the myth of Eden in the form of a fairy tale. Still, it is clear that we are given only partial information.
Lucifer: Well, your first wife didn't seem to hate what I had to offer…or the second! Bowchicka pow pow!
Sera: He was the first human soul in heaven…
It is very unclear what happened with Eve and Adam himself is judged a "virtuous soul", after his human death. Not only that, but he affirms what brought him into Heaven is:
Vaggie: reading list "Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man." Are you fucking serious?
Except that Adam never once acts selflessly throughout the whole season. So, I wonder if an eternity spent being spoilt in Heaven made him worse.
In short, the things I am interested in when it comes to Adam are:
If and how Heaven has changed him
His relationship with Lucifer and Lilith (Eden + his pact with Lilith)
Let's now try to analyze Adam, starting with what we have in the series.
ADAM THE ANGEL
Adam: Call me, Dickmaster.
Adam is introduced as a powerful angel and a jerkass mysoginist. Both things are important, as they tie to different conflicts:
Adam is a genocidal maniac, who mistreats everyone. Still, he is considered a virtuous soul and holds some authority in Heaven.
Adam is "the man" and is shown discriminating and dismissive towards women. According to Charlie's recount in Overture, his mysoginy might be at the very root of the conflict behind the forbidden fruit and the birth of Hell.
These two sides of Adam come together in his interactions with Charlie, who is both a demon and a woman.
1- He dismisses Charlie's ideas of redemption in his song Hell is Forever, which is full of Christian references:
'Cause it's cut and dry
Fair is fair, an eye for an eye
And, when all's said and done (said and done)
There's the question of fun
And for those of us with divine ordainment
Extermination is entertainment!
Guitar solo, fuck yeah!
In general, he sees himself as superior to demons because he was judged worthy of Heaven. In his mind, this makes him automatically the "good guy", while people who exhibits virtues like Charlie or Angel are still beneath him, as they are demons. In short, he has a black and white mentality:
'Cause the rules are black and white
There's no use in tryin' to fight it
2- He flirts with Charlie and calls her with sexist names:
Adam: I got you again, bitch! *laughs* Fuckin' hilarious!
Not only that, but his overall characterization highligths his sexism to hilarious degrees. Some examples:
His favourite food is ribs because Eve was born from one. So, it is as if he likes "eating women up"
He leads an army of hot and lethal women, who follow his orders in battle (classical male fantasy)
He gives Vaggie the name "Vagina" and calls it "the best thing ever"
So, Adam is a combination between a zealous religious fanatic and the patriarchy. All neatly tied up with jock imagery (his tunic resembles a letterman jacket). As a result, his interactions with Charlie explore two different power dynamics:
Heaven vs Hell or to better say Hell is Forever vs A Happy Day In Hell. Is Hell a place of eternal damnation or is it a chance of redemption?
Man vs Woman - Adam is far more childish and less intelligent than Charlie, but she has to kiss his butt because he is in a role of power. As it often happens in human society.
The question is: "How can such a person be worthy of Heaven?"
SERA THE MOTHER
Sera: I thought, since I'm older
It's my load to shoulder
Sera is Adam's authority figure, as she is the only one Adam shows respect for. He asks for her validation and is ashamed after disappointing her. Considering Adam was created by the angels, it is easy to infer Sera is probably the closest thing he has to a mother. This also ties with Sera's overall role in the narrative, where she is framed as a parental figure to Emily and to the other angels and souls:
Not only that, but her parenting style seems rooted in the determination to protect those in her care, no matter what:
Sera: It is my position as the head Seraphim to protect our people at all costs.
Even if she has to lie to them:
I wanted to save you, the anguish it takes to
Do what was required
Or if others end up hurt in the process:
Sera: Heaven needs us, Emily. Everyone looks to us… and we can't doubt ourselves or worry about the fates of demons when we have our own souls to protect.
She keeps Emily and the rest of Heaven in a Gilded Cage and chooses to exterminate the Sinners. In a sense, she too sees the world in black and white, just like Adam. Her loved ones. All the others. This attitude is present in her relationship with Adam too, as she enables him. Some examples:
She gives Adam permission to lead the exterminations. Even if Sera thinks killing Sinners is necessary, there is no reason to entrust it to Adam, who has a very obvious grudge against Lucifer.
He lets Adam boss around the exorcists and mistreat them. Like he did with Vaggie. In general, Sera gives him no rules, if not a generic "do not embarass me" one. And even then, Adam faces no consequence after he reveals the secret.
Sera is angry at Adam's cruelty towards Charlie and reproaches him for targeting the Hazbin Hotel. Still, this is all she does. She could have stopped Adam from attacking the hotel. And yet, she only makes a single remark.
In general, Sera gives Adam free reign and even fulfills all his cruellest requests. This is made clear during Charlie and Adam's questioning.
Since the beginning, Charlie is set up to lose and the seating arrangement shows it. Sera and Emily are at the very top, as they are the judges. Below them there is the jury and then there are the two sides. Still, Charlie and Adam are not at the same level. Adam is higher, while Charlie is at the very bottom.
Sera sustains Adam's petty objection:
Adam: Objection, lame and unoriginal.
Sera: Sustained. No further dictionary references please.
But she is about to refuse Charlie's request and only agrees to it because of Emily:
Charlie: Angel will make good decisions, come on! We have to keep watching! Please?
Sera: sighs Yeah, I don't know.
Emily: Yeah, let's give him a chance.
Sera: Very well, the court will allow it.
Finally, when Adam reveals Vaggie's secret (which is irrelevant to the matter at hand), Sera allows it to happen:
She is the one projecting Vaggie's angelic shadow on the wall. Once again she enables Adam's cruelty, instead of stopping it.
in short, Adam is a person who ascends to Heaven, but once there he spends millenias without anyone questioning or disagreeing with him. All his self-serving fantasies are fulfilled and he is never punished nor called out. As a result, he clearly becomes complacent and grows worse:
Lucifer: So, this is what you been up to since Eden? Gotta say, you've really let yourself go, buddy.
Lucifer's taunt mostly references Adam's physique. Still, this is metaphorically true for Adam's soul, as well. In the end, Adam regresses in Heaven, instead of evolving. Moreover, he never addresses nor solves the key event, which defined his life.
LUCIFER AND LILITH
Adam: You judging me? You're the most hated being in all of creation!
Adam's sense of self is clearly warped by what(ever) happened in Eden. Specifically, he is hurt that both his relationships with Lilith and Eve ended up badly (apparently). This is why:
He overcompensates by being overly masculine. He insists he is THE MAN and keeps blubbering about his love adventures. And yet, he has still no wife, that we know of.
He projects his own feelings on Lilith and Lucifer, to the point that thousands of years later, he chooses "messing their home", as his hobby. Specifically, he tries to steal Lilith away (through their deal) and to make Lucifer as miserable as possible ( which is why the King of Hell sends Charlie to meet Adam at the very beginning - he doesn't want to deal with the Exorcist).
This behavior is mirrored in how he treats the Princess of Hell too.
On the one hand Adam associates what he considers Charlie's positive traits with Lilith:
Adam: To think someone as worthless as you landed Lilith's little hottie. 'Grats on that I guess.
On the other hand Adam links what he believes to be Charlie's negative traits with Lucifer:
Adam: Risking your immortal life for sinners? That's some crazy shit, even for Lucifer's brat!
So, it is implied he still wants Lilith and despises Lucifer. These emotions are mirrored in his design, specifically his horned mask:
The horns ironically show that Adam was cheated on by (both?) his wife(s)
The horns give him a demonic-like appearance, which may be just another way Adam tries to appear more badass than what he is. All while trying to look more like a demon (Lucifer) to begin with
In other words, Adam is nothing, but a man scorned. Even moreso he is a person, who deep down could never really like himself. Hence why he chooses to wear a mask 24h/24h. Adam wants to be either a Demon or a God, but deep down he is just the Man. Ironically, this is what he could never truly accept about himself.
ADAM- A MAN
In the final fight, Adam is unmasked and we get a glimpse of his real self. What is he like? His design is far more average and human-like than other angels and demons. It is even inspired by his real voice actor, apparently. Why is that so? Because deep down Adam is no-one special. He is just a dude. He is the man. Not even that. He is a man. A person.
Sadly, though, he refuses this truth and tries to be more:
Adam: I started everything on Earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts! You all should be worshipping me, you ungrateful, disgusting, fucking losers-
He tries to be God and in this way he becomes worse than a Demon. He dies pathetically, after refusing mercy:
Adam: No… you don't get to end this! I'm fucking Adam! I'm the fucking man, and you're just some fucking clown or something!
He sees Lucifer as his enemy, but the King of Hell barely registers his presence and only considers him in relation to Charlie. His true opponent turns out to be a small woman of low status. And even she barely considers him as someone worthy of her attention.
And yet, Adam is still a man and he shows humanity in death:
Lute: NOOOO! Sir! Sir! Stay with me sir! ADAM!
Lute is his one genuine bond and probably the only person who earnestly makes him happy.
If only he could have pursued his humanity, he might have not turned into a monster. He might have developed a healthier sense of self and could have become happier. Instead, he could never love himself for being just a man and has spent eternity trying to be someone different.
HEAVEN ISN'T MEANT TO SUCK A LOT
Adam embodies the anti-theme.
Charlie thinks that everyone can redeem themselves:
Charlie: If I can show them the dream I've dreamed
That any soul can change!
Then they will know everyone can be redeemed
From the evil to the strange!
Adam thinks nobody truly can:
'Cause Hell is forever
Whether you like it or not
Had their chance to behave better
Now they boil in the pot
Charlie tries to grow into her own person:
Gotta come into my own
Gotta come into my throne
Gotta take charge and defend my only home
Adam turns himself into an idol:
The golden exorcists bring to mind the golden calf from the Bible.
Charlie thinks happiness and beauty can be found even in Hell:
I can hear all their stories
The lost and displaced
And I know that they're more of an acquired taste
But if I open the door and I give them a place
At my Hazbin Hotel
It'll be a happy day in Hell!
Adam can't find happiness and beauty in Heaven and his only source of joy is knowing others suffer more than him:
Fuckin' Hell is forever
And it's meant to suck a lot!
And yet, Hell might be meant to suck a lot, but Heaven shouldn't:
St. Peter and Emily: 'Cause every single day in Heaven is a happy day
Welcome to Heaven
Still, Heaven could not make Adam happy. And if Heaven can't make its own people happy, then what is the point of such a Kingdom?
Sera: It's your position to keep them happy and joyful.
Emily: How can I bring joy when I now know we are bringing misery to thousands of innocent people?
Adam is a character that embodies Heaven's problems, not only because he is an evil monster, but even moreso because he is an unhappy and unsatisfied man.
Here are my two cents on him :D We'll see if he comes back and manages to get some development!
Thank you for the ask!
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel meta#adam hazbin hotel#hazbin adam#my meta#asksfullofsugar#anonymous#sera hazbin hotel
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My Second Husband - By Goeulwon (9.5/10)
It finally happened everybody! Pop the wine bottles! Somebody finally wrote a time travel yandere story correctly! Our protagonist is a rich and spoiled modern Cinderella, who falls to her death after her life spirals out of control. Now that she's 22 and single again what will she change? Who will she chose? Also, who is following her every move?
Eunha Lee.
You should hate her. Her mom is a fashion CEO. Her dad is a capable malewife. She modeled for her mother's company for many years. She married her first love, an unsuccessful actor with debt from his deadbeat father! Their relationship goes perfectly because she has money AND shockingly Taeyang is wildly talented. He's not just a boy toy. After a couple years he no longer needs Eunha Lee's generous support. He becomes a rich husband for a rich woman and they live happily...
Hey...
That's not Eunha Lee.
It's Yura. Another model who worked under Eunha's mother. Yura is the kind of woman who thinks spoiled little girls should suffer. Taeyang has been cold lately. After he got established enough to get acting jobs without her support...well...he was suddenly less affectionate. Then she finds out her famous husband is cheating. On the news. The national news.
By the way she finds out after her beloved parents die in a car crash. They gave her everything. Love. Support. She became a lawyer because she wanted to make them proud. She wanted to be strong and independent for them, and they died. She calls her husband for days and days. He doesn't respond, and she goes to the funeral alone...and that's when news of the affair breaks.
She asks for a divorce.
She is so wrecked, sad and tired that she stands on a staircase to cry. In public.
Her legs give out, and she dies at the age of 32. Divorced and a worldwide laughingstock. The boring lawyer wife that got abandoned and left behind for a prettier model. The doormat that let her actor husband use her until she wasn't needed.
When she wakes up she's 22 again, and she's not used to dealing with...being young. She thinks everybody is way too immature and overdramatic. Especially this Sena girl here. Sena is a petite cutie with an attitude problem. She's very pure. She doesn't like to sit next to people who smoke, because they're smelly. She wants to be a romantic and devoted girlfriend, and she wants the perfect guy.
She thinks her perfect guy is Sungwoo, the confirmed yandere in this story. Sena completely and utterly embarrasses herself. She says Eunha Lee must be leading Sungwoo on. He's soooo perfect, but she refuses to date him. Sena is willing to give him all of her love and time. She harasses Eunha...but it's really not scary. Sena is a young girl who is really bad at socializing. That's all. It's not that serious.
Sungwoo rejects her several times, and he says she has no chance.
He's been in love with Eunha Lee since he was 15 years old.
He's got grade A daddy issues and lots of money. Not cute clothing shop money. Dirty money. His family fights alot about cash and power too. Sungwoo was...weird. Violent. He lashed out at other kids, and his family covered it up with $$$.
Eunha Lee reached out to him, and he finally learned how to have fun like a real kid at 15.
He's grateful.
She is his hero.
Eunha Lee hates Taeyang now. Once a cheater always a cheater. She takes the chance God has given her, and she abandons her kind of boyfriend? The story starts when they're about to go on their first date. Eunha Lee is very aggressive. She flirted with Taeyang. She's the one that made him into a confident and famous actor.
She doesn't do that this time, and he quickly gives up on acting. He starts investing in stocks. He works two jobs. In one he is a waiter. In the other...
He becomes a janitor at Eunha Lee's law school. What a coincidence! Is he obsessed? Is he a stalker? Nope!
Taeyang went back too. Now that Eunha hates him he doesn't want to he famous. He wants a stable life with money. He uses information from the future to invest, and he works two jobs to save up even more. His dad abandoned him when debt piled up. Eunha, who was his wife, has no interest in him. She stands him up when their first date rolls around. She's rude, but he can't leave her alone.
He doesn't know if he still loves her.
Did he actually cheat on her?
Nope.
A...force has been watching over Eunha Lee. A very forceful and loving force. Someone that wants Eunha Lee and only Eunha Lee to always be happy no matter what, to the point of insanity. Eunha eventually notices the presence of this force. She uses her lawyer skills to figure out who it is.
She can't accept the truth.
Sungwoo also came back in time. He and Taeyang wished for the same thing when Eunha died. They wished for her to come back. A capricious God grants their wish, but now...the two men are at odds.
Sungwoo has always been nuts, but in his first life he felt inferior. Eunha Lee and Actor Taeyang were the perfect couple for many years. Eunha was so happy. He couldn’t ruin that. He kind of caused their marriage issues...by accident? Sungwoo is the dark force behind Eunha Lee in both of these timelines. In the first he quietly got rid of things and people in the way. She didn’t notice, because she was sheltered, but Taeyang did. Being married to Eunha was crazy stressful. One bad day could mean someone gets beat up.
Sungwoo literally tortures people who harass Eunha.
In the second timeline he tries to ruin Sena's life, just because she annoys Eunha for a while.
Things escalate.
Sungwoo entraps a thug. The thug is in debt. Sungwoo says the debt will vanish if he murders Taeyang. The thug is no killer. He's just a coward. That's the only reason why Taeyang survives. Sungwoo really wants to get rid of him. Only Taeyang knows how evil he is. He can't hold back around Taeyang. Taeyang had the married life he wanted for 10 years. Taeyang is the weak point in his mask. That crack proves Sungwoo isn't as perfect as he looks. He looks like a golden boy who was reformed by love and friendship.
He is a criminal.
He starts dating Eunha in the second timeline, and he doesn’t tell her he also came from the future. He starts to gaslight her, and the story continues to amp up.
What did Sungwoo do in the first timeline?
Is that thing THE thing that broke Taeyang, turning him into a cold husband that made Eunha feel unloved?
Will Eunha end up with either of them?
All three characters have changed. They are not their young selves, and they're jaded.
Sungwoo used to think he was unworthy of Eunha, but now he's convinced that he's the only one who deserves her.
Eunha Lee was a kind, smart, but naive princess. Now she can see who her real enemies are. Before, she thought Yura was her best friend.
Taeyang wanted to be a shining star, but now he's over that and he just wants money.
Where does love fit in here????
#yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere boy#recommendations#recs#rec#recommended#webtoon#My Second Husband
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one of the reasons why i downloaded tumbler — my ace attorney phase. i have feeling that nobody except tumbler ace attorney fandom are still alive
recently i watched great video about Franziska by @musashi and whole 2 hours i was like "YES YES SOMEBODY TALKED ABOUT IT THEY SAID EXACTLY WHAT I TRYING TO EXPLAIN TO ALL MY FRIENDS FOR THIS YEAR Y E S"
and well i think it's my turn to talk about Manfred. because i like this moron. before you ask me wtf let me explain: miles made unforgivable, stupid, aggressive and childish stuff. nobody can grew up in awful condition and become clearly good person. i like him because of his ambiguity. all fandom likes him. but i don't understand why everyone hate Manfred so easy
of course we don't know enough about him, his past, his relationship with family (i mean wife, for example). we only have different headcanons about how he raised miles and 'ziska. but.. it's strange for me why everyone accept so fast that "he is a villain, he is murderer, he must die, forget about him"
first of all, he is prosecutor, lawyer. probably hereditary. me too (seriously), and I saw mean, authoritative people, who can't communicate with their family well, but.. they still love them. you know, all that stuff about justice will settle in your soul forever, when you see courtroom, when you talk with other lawyers (your parents colleagues) from early childhood. you will never forget it, it's part of your life from the beginning. you can be mean, you can make awful mistakes, but you will remember. and probably your parents will press you with all this perfectionism, aesthetic, study and lawyer dynasty stuff. same as Manfred has been pressed, same as he pressed his children later
of course Manfred worked for victory, not only for justice. but i can't believe he did it because he e v i l. maybe he is just like miles in his youngest carrier because of demanding teacher and loathing to criminals? that's why he thought his children same stuff. he was just.. doing his duties. prosecutor must blame someone. somebody must get punished. death, especially violent, is always tragedy. relatives of victim are waiting for explanation, for punishment. it's so painful
next thing: Manfred is old. and he has toddler, and this toddler has noone exept Manfred, her father. i agree that Manfred could take miles because "ah look at me i adopted my rival's boy cause i'm SO generous and obviously NOT guilty ", but how about more reasons? another one child is always lots of work: money, school, adoption documents, this child also has a dog, so it's headache about vet, passport for transportation it to Germany, then dirt and maybe bitten furniture, food for both of them and more, more, more. we can see in anime, that Manfred allowed to take dog too. and by the way, he agreed to raise miles as prosecutor (he didn't force him), he helped him. quite possibly he gave him great education. Manfred understood, that Franziska need someone, who can protect and support her when he leaves her. he also can write it in testament
and how about AAI flashback? Manfred was ready to stay with miles during his first court. he discussed with him details before the beginning. he argued with detective to allow miles and 'ziska get to crime scene. he appointed them to investigate (no one of them asked about it directly, they were shocked and tried their best)
i think Manfred just another traumatized step of long von Karma dynasty. remember how Franziska hug herself when you press her against the wall? compare it to Manfred sprites. he is so self-defensive, when he loses control. controling everything around him — the only thing he can do now, when he became "that smart old person with lots of subordinates". and then Franziska remembered that and trying to repeat. i believe Manfred can be good in little things, he capable to love. i think he literally gone mad with understanding of what he has done on emotions and everyday pain, which reminds about that day
that's enough for first time, thanks for reading and sorry for my eng — it's my first non-translsted from native language text. waiting for your thoughts about it! this is my bf's art, he has no Tumblr, but tg https://t.me/bjdsketch
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Rainfall and Tears
TW! Pure angst, explicit Language, Dazai
Pairing: Dazai x Reader
Type: Oneshot
Genre: Pure Angst
Synopsis: When fate arranges the meetings of two broken hearts, it will be a nice reunion. Right? Except it went downhill from both people..
This happened after Dazai left the Mafia leaving reader behind.
Not proofread (I suck at synopsis')
You held the umbrella in your hand as sobs can be heard. An executive died, and your boss was generous enough to hold a funeral so his family could at least mourn. You bit your lip as his wife fell to her knees and cried. You didn't want to attend, not wanting to hear the pitiful cries of others, yet Chuuya insisted to at least pay respects in which you agreed to. What an unfortunate day it was, the death of an executive, a rainy day, and a year after he left the organization. You clutched your umbrella as you slowly walked out of the graveyard. Chuuya was comforting the woman and her child while you walked out, your boots clacking to the wet road. You sighed, today was supposed to be your anniversary on when you first met; now it's the date where he left you in that shitty hellhole called the Mafia. You sighed wanting to grab some coffee before heading back to the Port Mafia. You walked straight sighing, you always hated rainy days; it reminded you of the day you cried when you were left alone. You snapped out of your thoughts when you bumped into somebody. You stumbled and quickly bowed as a sign of apology, while the man apologize and muttered something when he saw you.
"Y/n..?" He muttered as you quickly raised your head to look at him. Your eyes widened, that voice was all too familiar; especially for you.
"Osamu...?" You whispered in shock. Never could you have suspected that the man who left you a year ago would be here. Right in your face, looking at you with teary eyes; eyes that was full of guilt and sorry.
Tears started to prick the corners of your eyes as you looked at him longer. It was really him, THE Dazai Osamu; the Demon Prodigy, traitor of the Mafia and... Your lover, the man who left you behind. In his eyes you were still the very Y/n he loved. He felt a gentle smile escape his lips, one that was genuine.
You two stared at each other, admiring each other's face; the face that both of you hadn't seen in person after a year. You snapped and realized what you were doing; you were happy to see him, alive and well. It was very different from the outcome you expected, one where you would be angry at him and curse him; perhaps you still love him after he left you. You turned your back at him, clutching your umbrella in hand, burying your nail to your palm to suppress your feelings. As you turned away his eyes widened and realized what you were trying to do. He tries to grab your hand but he halted at your words.
"Dazai..I- I won't let the Port Mafia about this encounter..but." You stuttered.
"today, from now on... We're strangers" you bit your inner cheek trying not to cry. He was shaking his head in the middle of your sentence. As you took a step, water splashes are heard. He grabbed your arms to his, making you turn back to him; you dropped your umbrella in the process. Now you were on his arm embrace, both of you are soaked from the rain. Burying his head on the crook of your neck he whispered:
"I'm s-sorry.. please.. I can't lose you again.. i- I miss you please.." he whispered between sobs, a tear escaped your eyes as you rested your head on his shoulder.
"Osamu... Please..." You pleaded, voice cracking.
"I want you back.. please" he cried. You pushed him back and as you took in his form, your eyes could only widen in his state. You looked at him with watery eyes and it made him guilty. The eyes he used to love staring at because of happiness was now replaced with eyes filled of numbness and sorrowful tears; worse is that it was because of him.. and he knew that.
You turned your back on him once again as he turned his back on you in the past. When you wanted to leave him, he only held your arm to get you back in his embrace. The rain worsen and you tried to leave but he hugged you tightly. He knew he was wrong and he misses you so bad, times came where he would stare at your picture wishing you were there. He sometimes wondered "was his friend really right or was his decision leaving the Port Mafia behind really right? Or was his decision to leave you really correct"?
You snapped, tired on why he would pull you back to his embrace to begin with; after all he was the one that left you, the one that pushed you away.
"Osamu! Please! Please.. just... Push me away! Like you used to" Dazai knew that anything he would say would fail. He knew that the only way to make you stay was the three words he never said to anyone, even you. He knew he missed you, more than Oda; he never cried when his dearest friend died on his arms, yet the thought of you leaving him is a scenario he could never imagine to happen. So.. He held no response to your breakdown,
"Perhaps he didn't care anymore" you thought to yourself.
You smiled to yourself, hiding the pain. You picked up the fallen umbrella and handed it to him.
"You'll get sick.." you muttered before walking away. He was there speechless
"I love you..." He whispered, his voice cracking yet it was no use, you already left; only leaving the umbrella in his hand. When he finally said the three words he was afraid to say because of how 'human' he will be; there was nobody to say it to. He gained the courage to say it when you're not there, when you finally left. Again, he has to handle the loneliness he hated feeling because of his own decisions. He was left alone in the rain, with an umbrella in your hand as you walked away.
#bungou stray dogs#bsd fanfics#dazai x reader#bsd angst#dazai osamu#bsd x reader#bsd x y/n#bsd x you#bsd x reader angst#bsd x gender neutral reader#dazai angst#reader angst#bsd#bsd fic#bungou stray dogs dazai#bsd dazai#dazai bsd#dazai bungou stray dogs
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One thing that I find interesting about jojos is its heavily familial theme surrounding a fairly broken family.
From the very beginning, Jonathan loses his mother, is bullied by his adoptive brother, and is viewed as less favorable by his father. After his death, Erina must raise their child on her own, only for him to pass away and leave her in the same role once again. Joseph doesn't know his mother. Jotaro's father is missing from the story. Josuke is an illegitimate child who reconciles with his absent father. Giorno severs all ties to his family after their abuse. All of them have few family members that are actively in their lives. And yet, they all bear the Joestar curse. They are fighting the battles of their family members that they never knew, simply because they are part of the Joestar family. Their stands manifest at the same time; they are literally connected by fate. All of this culminates in Stone Ocean, as Jotaro, caught up in pursuing the Joestar family problems, neglects his own daughter and takes on the role that his father did when he was a child. Jolyne hated him for not being there, yet always knew he would be there for her. She stole a car. Why did she do that? So he would come save her. "The Joestar family, through their bloodline, have seized victories by drawing strength from honor and courage. However! Your bloodline is also your weakness. Jotaro Kujo, your weakness is your daughter" - this is what Pucci tells him the moment that Jotaro chooses his daughter over the universe. Their familial love is strong, yet distant. They repeat the mistakes of their parents before them. They are struck by tragedy before they can become parents. They can't connect. And yet they'd doom the world for each other.
I think that, in the second continuity, this theme is very literally personified through the rock disease. Before that, we get gut-wrenching lines like "God took the wrong son" from Joestar fathers, before Johnny marries into the Higashikata family. It is the rock disease that leads to Johnny digging up the saints corpse to protect his family. He was willing to go against the entire goal of sbr in order to save his wife, and when his son was afflicted with the same condition, he was willing to lose his life. The rock disease serves as a physical embodiment of the danger that led to the tragedy of the Joestar family. It is literally passed down through the Higashikata family, similar to the way that "destiny" and "fate" were almost inherited by the Joestars. In the Higashikata family, each generation was forced to choose to let their eldest son die, or kill someone in his place. This death and tragedy is inherited, and everyone knows. Norisuke has to live with the fact that his mother died so he could live. He is willing to do the same for his grandson. Jobin's life was heavily influenced by the fact that his mother wouldn't die for him, and it leads him to pursue the same for his son. The Higashikata family has this extreme inherited trauma that they can never truly escape.
The rock disease even reaches the Joestar family, with Holy becoming afflicted with the same condition. Holy, a single mother like her counterpart, also serves as a guiding force of the story. The fact that she rescued Josefumi when his own mother wouldn't is what leads to him helping Kira save her. Even after they become Josuke and lose their own memories, Josuke understands that Holy is his mother. She was such a strong comforting presence in both of his pasts, that even though he cannot remember anything about his life, he understands how important she was to him. In the same way that Joestars inherit their battles and traumas, Josuke inherits his mother's love. He is welcomed into the Higashikata home. He is given a family. And I think that is the true message in all of this. Josuke literally has no connection to his past, much like previous Joestars who are disconnected from their family, yet the efforts that they made still affect him. It is the people that he chooses to surround himself with that matter, as even when presented with Kiyomi, he would rather go to his real family. Family can pass along a great sadness, but family is also the people you choose to surround yourself with. Love transcends fate.
#jjba#jojos bizarre adventure#jojolion#jjba spoilers#jojo spoilers#stone ocean spoilers#sbr spoilers#jojolion spoilers#my posts#yayy first post!!#i have so many thoughts about the higashikata family#jojolion-flavored version of an essay i wrote for school lol
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at this point i'm wondering what sarah is thinking when writing her love interests, like ok it's clear she finds them hot but like....are they good people
Rhys:
UTM lap dance shenanigans
throwing Feyre into danger constantly (Weaver, destroying cauldron, getting the book from Adriata, etc etc)
Still not doing jack shit about wing clippings in Illyria?? Emerie is right there, Rhysand, go enforce your damn laws
Insulting his wife's sister constantly
Almost killed his wife's sister cause she dared give her important medical information
Locked Lucien (MY BOY!!) in the house of wind
Locked Nesta in the house of wind
Didn't give Mor any warning that time he made her face her abusers and she cried i think (ngl i forgot most of it)
Ignoring Hewn City even tho...Kier is like the only bad guy we've seen from there?? Surely there's decent people in Hewn City, don't gotta make everyone suffer
Nesta windhaven kidnapping intervention so she stops spending Rhys' money (if it was really about her own sake, they would've put a stop to it much earlier)
Seemingly alienates everyone in Feyre's life that could and would stand up to Rhys for Feyre's sake. Lucien? Nah, shoo. Nesta? Nah, shoo. Weird thought but Tarquin? Yeah, makes her steal his book.
And last but DEFINITELY not least; demon baby wife death
HE COULD'VE TOLD FEYRE... OR ATLEAST NOT THREATENED TO KILL HER SISTER FOR TELLING HER WHEN HE HOULD'VE TOLD HER IN THE FIRST PLACE??
THERE'S PROBABLY MORE BUT MOVING ON
Cassian:
Barely ever stands up for Nesta in the IC
Aids in kidnapping Nesta to Windhaven so she stops spending whysand's money
Laughs at Nesta when she falls down the stairs
Aids in punishing Nesta for daring to tell Feyre important medical info
Constantly going agaisnt Nesta's wishes and trying to "save her" when she doesn't want him to
That one time Azriel asked Nesta if Cass had pushed her down the stairs...Like are we gonna ignore that?? Personally I'd have a quarter life crisis if my closest friend, who is like my sibling and has known me most of our lives, seriously entertained the idea that i would physically assault the girl I like
general aggressiveness all of ACOSF
aids in bulldozing Nesta's apartment
Rowan goddamn Whitehorn (Who I've yet to see people bashing him somehow,,, HoF rowan was like if ACOSF cassian had a horrific murder baby
Left his pregnant mate alone during a war cause he wanted to prove himself....like..idk man if i had the choice between war and taking care of my pregnant wife i'd pick the wife (did he know she was pregnant? i've kind of forgotten by now)
Rowan's kid would've been hundreds of years older than Aelin.....just think abt that
Literally everything he did to Aelin during training in HoF
Their argument where he PUNCHED HER IN THE FACE
Threatened to whip Aelin...I repeat....Threatened to whip Aelin, an ex-slave....
Told Aelin it'd be better if she died 10 years ago (unprovoked?? bitch you met her like 2 weeks ago just cause she's getting on your nerves doesn't mean you gotta wish DEATH upon her)
Literally was relieved to find out she was only 19 because if she was a few years older she could've been THE CHILD OF HIS BEST FRIEND.
No issue with marrying the cousin of his best friend's child....Imagine if he hadn't met Aelin first.. If he'd met Aedion first, Aelin would've always been the relative of his friend's son to him
FOR THE RECORD i hate all of the SJM age gaps but rowan and aelin's specifically irks me because Aelin LITERALLY CALLS HIM OLD throughout the WHOLE SERIES
Literally tells Aelin he doesn't care about what she's been through and that she is nothing to him after she confronts him for leaving her
Puts Luca in danger by sticking him on to a frozen lake with a monster inside where he'll DIE if Aelin can't save him
Funnily enough, some of the only seemingly decent person guys in SJM 1. Are completely forgotten about in the books or 2. SJM had to make them violently unlikeable
Like we've got:
Tarquin, seemed like a pretty good guy, rightfully pissed that the IC stole his family heirloom, shows up like twice in the books (LET HIM COME BACK SARAH I LOVE HIM)
Tamlin, was pretty decent in book 1, was made violently unlikeable in book 2 onwards
Chaol, very strong morals, generally a good person, loves his wife, made violently unlikeable and boring in late CoM, HoF, and QoS (ToD is one of my favorite books in the series, will praise ToD till the day I die, my boy EARNED his own book)
Aedion, seemed like a good person, strong morals, spent years trading his dignity for the sake of Terrasen, loved his cousin above all else, made violently unlikable in KoA (even tho I think he was justified in being angry about it, i'd be SO pissed)
Sartaq, good guy, strong morals, Nesryn's chapters were some of my favorites in ToD, Sartaq is one of my favorite SJM love interests, i'll never forgive author lady for forgetting about him in KoA (tho i guess she forgot about everyone from ToD? Yrene and Chaol are the only important ones, she barely even mentions Nesryn even though Nesryn's BEEN an integral part of the gang since QoS, giving her the Suki from ATLA treatment)
#acotar#sjm#sarah j maas#throne of glass#tog#anti rhysand#anti rowan#anti cassian#anti nessian#anti feysand#chaol westfall#sartaq#tarquin#tamlin#aedion ashryver#nesta deserves better
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