#man...if only we could have spoken....like after about 10 hours of fucking
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Heh. Why do I care about a man obsessed with hair.
#mom is the one that made that fag...stand out or whatever#mom was something else when she would tell people what to do#she knew better than to do that shit to me (snickers)#me in between: mom you know I am gonna do what I want#uses hand gives mom hug...#she's like you're such a good boy and I got a notebook with a virgin telling me she wants to fuck#I used to find it funny how the one at the gym#took an interest in me and started smoking#who knows your range at that point#and maybe it was me too#that shit with you in class in hindsight was of a spiritual nature for sure#man...if only we could have spoken....like after about 10 hours of fucking#yes you're right of course it would have escalated#I mean I think that's what we wanted though#you're getting serious in class though....now you got my eyes you give me yours#like....oh yeah?#and it's like oh yeah#look of slightly troubled....issssss gonna be sooo tight#and she's like yeah....and I'm like I don't thiink you comprehend#your girlfriend calls it learning to accommodate for happiness in your life#like a slack jaw mouth breather faster than leg tuck and a visual check#I look down I'm like....Shit!#me: damn I wasn't meaning to do that#kinda stops internal dialogue and stares for a sec#stunned?#pussy already soaked I know#well..... very wet at this point#if I was an ant I could slide everywhere#did you know each taste bud can be felt by your 10#women absolutely have pussy erections
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What if you could try to convey the idea of a show that is 700+ hours long just by gathering out of context snippets from random seasons and hot gluing them together into a nice audio collage?
Music: Bravery! Courage! A Burst of Laser Fire Aboard The Raptor Mk II! (Lasers and Feelings) by one and only Jack de Quidt (it’s on their bandcamp in Live At The Table album).
Transcript and source under the cut, so you could read it and say “wait really? why would they say that”
AUSTIN: How do you play it for him. Do you just have like a…
JACK: Umm, I think that my dress sweeps into a waveform, and I think we just hear it.
WAVEFORM DRESS: [sounds of the rings of Saturn]
(TM 18 )
"Welcome to friends at the table, toxoplasmosis, let's go"
(Drawing maps Duvall)
"I gave a thumbs up to the microphone because that's where you all live"
(CW 27)
AUSTIN: You can do a lot with a one.
KEITH: You can do a lot with a one when you are ten.
(Bluff 32)
“What’s the most supernatural color?”
(Bluff 10)
"Why do I just have random robots in my mind?"
(Bluff 35)
"We are not allowed to answer that question, we made bad decisions"
(CW 38)
“Um. I want to have an anime moment”
(Pzn 30)
“So this was my story about don't fuck with me in valorant”
(Pzn 27)
AUSTIN: And so that is who she is and she can probably take care of herself, so long as this robot doesn’t make her feel sad [chuckles].
JACK: Wow, same, same. That’s how I feel about twitter.com!
(TM 19)
"This thing is just monstrous. The most monstrous thing about it is its inability or indifference to form"
(SF 41)
"Petrichor automedia, they do it all! They do robots, they do movies, they do the sound that keeps you up at night"
(CW 28)
ART: Can we have a brief philosophical conversation?
AUSTIN: Whenever. Literally any time you want.
(Spring 49)
"I would love to be entangled, Austin"
(Road to pzn 4)
“You would tell me ideologically what your narrative is, whereas effect to me feels emotional—”what effect did your action have” feels like an emotional connection. Do you know what I mean? A narrative is a collection of ideas when used politically. “
(Pzn 46)
"You're listed here as one of my only friends. It's you and the working class"
(CW 41)
"Okay, so Even doesn't really have skin per se anymore..." (TM 3)
"They are intimate for a logo"
(CW 27)
"A man but his motif is that he is also a truck. Oh, why does this dude always come out wearing a Ford logo on his t-shirt?” (Bluff 9)
"Aterika’kaal is not evil, just misunderstood. Also little"
(SF 42)
“You know the sense you get when you, with a pen, add parentheses to a sentence? After you've written it? That's what it feels like in the room. It feels like you're adding parentheses to a room, to the entire god“
(SF 27)
"Haha, yes, the dictionary is a harsh god”
(LATT Spoken Magic Part 1)
#I am sorry for including Animal Out of Context quotes because of the audio quality#but you had to know that austin described the logo of liberty and discovery to be 'too intimate'. why would he say that ever#friends at the table#fatt#c:
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ryan opening up about what his parents did for the first time
tw: parental death via cancer, child abuse/neglect, alcoholism
Dylan's hand was laid over his chest, tracing circles over and over with the tip of his pointer finger. It was soothing, the gentle touch, lulling Ryan to a point of nearly falling asleep.
Then Dylan's hand trailed farther to the side, up and over, until it grazed one of three scars across Ryan's upper right arm. "Oh." He breathed. There was no judgment, no expectation for Ryan to say anything. Just a soft acknowledgment from Dylan.
Dylan's hand almost seemed to pull away, but Ryan laid his own over it, squeezing his hand gently. "Um, so, you know my dad died when, when I was only 10. Sarah was, man, she was only two, at the time." He swallowed hard and grew quiet, feeling his mind begin to turn, reel, as he dipped into memories almost too painful to remember.
"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to, babe." Dylan said gently, stroking over the scars with such a tenderness it made Ryan want to cry. He swallowed it down, though, as Dylan continued to speak. "But if you want to, I'm here for you. Always."
"...he got sick. Really sick. I-It took a while for me to realize how sick, but...I think I actually accepted it before she did, before mom did. Sarah, obviously, had no idea what was going on." He swallowed hard. "Fuck, when he first got sick, she was only a few months old."
Dylan nodded in understanding, shimmying up in the bed to hold Ryan more properly in his arms.
"Cancer. It spread, um, everywhere. Dad, he, he tried. He fought, man. For so long. He wanted to be there. For us. But he couldn't anymore. We, um...we got to say goodbye, before he passed." Ryan reached a hand out and grabbed at one of Dylan's shoulders, then, staring up into their pale white ceiling, unable to meet his gaze. "He looked so small. But he promised he loved us. And he was so proud of me. I would be the man of the house, I'd take care of Sarah, a-and my mom and...I wanted to make him proud."
"Ryan, I know you did. Do, make him proud." Dylan reassured him. God, that made something soft and warm twinge in his chest. What he wouldn't give to have his dad and Dylan meet.
"Mom took it...it hard. She would be out all hours of the night. At first, she tried to keep it together, but soon, there would be days where she just wouldn't come home." Ryan could feel a small panic build in his chest, memories of uncertainty and fear filling him. "It was fine in the summer, you know? I could look after Sarah, and get into our money stash for groceries or the food bank or church. A-And, um, we could go to the library for fun. There were things to do. But then fall came and I missed a lot of school. But someone had to watch Sarah."
"Ryan-" Dylan whispered, voice deep in concern, but free of judgment.
Ryan kept going, unable to stop now as the words spilled out. "CPS visited. Mom came home more after that, between shifts, between...drinking. But she was angry. Angry at the world. At dad. At our neighbors, my teachers for being concerned. At...at me. I look like my mom. Sarah, um, she looks a lot like how our dad did." He added that bit, voice growing tight, remembering how his mother screamed at him, that she hated the reflection of herself in him. But how he somehow mocked her, being a better parent to her daughter when he was just a child himself. "And then, o-one night she just...kept, kept drinking. I tried to get her to stop, Sarah was crying, screaming, she couldn't sleep. But the bottle broke and...and I got in mom's way and...those, the scars, are um-"
"Holy shit." Dylan sat fully upright now, providing necessary respite as the tears finally fell, as something broke inside Ryan and he sobbed, burying his face in Dylan's chest. "Oh, baby, I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry, Ryan. You didn't deserve that. Fuck, you deserved so much better-"
Those weren't the first time Ryan had heard similar words spoken to him, but them coming from Dylan's voice, uttered in his lover's soft tone, undoubtedly now crying just as Ryan was, he finally let himself fully and truly drink those words in. He didn't deserve what happened to him. He was a good person, he deserved love and care. After what happened with his family. Even after Hackett's Quarry and what Ryan needed to do to keep others safe.
"She, um, got help. Rehab, after. I think she's doing ok nowadays, but, um, me and Sarah don't talk to her. Not anymore. And she doesn't push to see us, thank fuck." Ryan snorted then a little. "Grammy and Pop's cooking is better anyways." He laughed wetly and Dylan smiled between his own tears.
"Thank you, for trusting me with this." Dylan kissed his forehead, before he paused, and then kissed the scars. "I love you, Ryan. And I promise, I'll keep you safe and cared for, okay?"
"As long as I get to keep you safe and cared for, too?" He took Dylan's residual limb in his hand, then, and gave it his own kiss.
"Deal." Dylan laughed, curling back around him.
Ryan was ready, now, to start the rest of their life together, safe and serene as they had always deserved. Schrodinger curling up around their legs was a sweet cherry on top.
#this is a longer and heavy one folks plz read with caution#the quarry#drylan#rylan#radioheads#dylan lenivy#ryan erzahler#my stuff
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You’re So Vain - Chapter 10
Dieter Bravo x female reader
Co-written with @absurdthirst
Oscar winning star Dieter Bravo’s reputation is suffering after the debacle of “Cliff Beasts 6″ and “Beasts of the Bubble”, so his management team has signed him on to a publicity stunt to find his soulmate and show the world a softer side of the erratic and unpredictable star. The plan quickly go awry, though, when Dieter’s soulmate wants nothing to do with him.
Rating: E for Explicit! 18+! We finally made it!
Word Count: 17.1k
Warnings: *Blanket warning for chronic illness, cursing, and deceased family members. This is a Dieter fic, folks, so there absolutely will be discussions of drugs, drug use, and addiction.* Enemies to lovers, fingering, train sex, vaginal sex, protected sex, impromptu bondage, biting, FEELINGS, there’s so much yearning in this chapter oh god, exhibitionism, sex toys.
Summary: Dieter has gone out of his way to make your birthday special, but you have no idea just how far he’s truly gone.
Notes: There’s a bit of dialogue in this chapter that is mentioned as been spoken in Swiss German although it is simply written in italicized English. Not knowing anyone who speaks the language fluently, we decided to not simply rely on an online translator and use our imaginations instead!
Ch 1 ~ Ch 2 ~ Ch 3 ~ Ch 4 ~ Ch 5 ~ Ch 6 ~ Ch 7 ~ Ch 8 ~ Ch 9
It hadn't taken much for Dieter to convince the director and producers of his film to let you do the portraits that would appear on screen as painted by his character. You had predicted that they would consider it a great marketing angle and you were right - but the director actually said that he liked your style and had asked what you would charge to do a portrait of his wife for a Christmas gift. Now you have a small space all your own at the studio where the canvases, brushes, paints, and myriad of other supplies procured for you by the set design team all sit alongside reference photos of Dieter for the four portraits that you have agreed to produce during the time that you're here in Switzerland. Today has been a particularly long day. Fourteen hours at the studio for the both of you, and Dieter has been working with barely any breaks. You're completing the second of four portraits in your little makeshift studio with the remnants of your dinner from the craft services table that you fetched for yourself hours ago, wishing it could have been a nice dinner out with Dieter somewhere or even room service. Things have been going so well - so much better than you ever could have imagined - and with tomorrow being your birthday you're seriously looking forward to the train ride to Basel about as much as you're nervous about the tattoo appointment that you'll have while you're there. The only thing that could make it better would be Steph and Nora magically appearing at the hotel, but you know they're going to the aquarium tomorrow so you'll just look forward to your FaceTime call instead.
“Deet!” Dieter has to stop himself for rolling his eyes and sighing when he hears his name being called by the director. Not that he hates working with this guy, he actually really likes his vision - he was just ready to grab you and go the fuck back to the hotel. Turning around, he nods to the middle-aged man who was bringing the script to life. “Yeah?”
"We've got a quick little thing we want to add to the schedule tomorrow," he flashes Dieter a smile, knowing that his lead actor has asked for the day off. But he's figured out a way that he thinks will make it palatable for the star. "Just a couple of hours in the late morning, I know today was a long one."
“Remember, I said I was unavailable tomorrow.” He gives Steve a slightly apologetic shrug and shakes his head. “Sorry.”
“It’s just two little hours in the morning.” The director insists, certain that he can make the prospect appealing. They’re not behind on filming at all but they could get ahead, and the studio would love it. “In and out, you’ll barely even notice you were here.”
Dieter frowns, not liking the way he was pushing. “Sorry, man.” He shakes his head again. “Tomorrow is my soulmate’s birthday. That’s why I said I was unavailable.”
You had no intention of eavesdropping. You really didn't. But your door is half open for air flow and they can't be more than a few feet away. The brush poised in your hand to and a few final strokes to the canvas nearly drops into your lap at the same time your face falls. They want him to work tomorrow...will he get in trouble if he keeps refusing? You really don't want the director to end up upset with him... "I'll move it up to earlier in the morning if you want. She'll never even realize you got out of bed." Steve asks, playing it off like it's nothing at all. "What's two little hours?"
He understands prodding, he’s done it plenty of times to get his way, but right now it’s irritating. “Her birthday is twenty-four hours.” Dieter tells him flatly. “I’m unavailable for every one of them.”
"It's just a birthday." Doing his best to make it sound easy and breezy, Steve shrugs his shoulders again. "She'll have another one next year. It's not a big deal."
Scoffing, Dieter shakes his head in disbelief this time. “Yeah, she will. But I think leaving the woman who is my soulmate by herself in a country that she doesn’t know by herself is a pretty shitty thing to do.” Dieter argues. “I’ve already said that I’m off and we have plans.”
"Gonna be another long day when you get back, then." Steve huffs, sensing he's lost the battle. "And your girl better have that painting done before you guys leave tonight."
“That’s fine.” Dieter frowns slightly but doesn’t snap at the man. He understands the pressure from the studio is intense, but production is ahead of schedule. “She’s working on it now.”
"See you day after tomorrow then." While the man might look frustrated, he doesn't push the point anymore and strolls on down the hallway. Maybe he can get his leading lady to come in for some extra work tomorrow instead so he can still get ahead of things.
Dieter huffs to himself, knowing that there is no way he could possibly miss any portion of your birthday. He would be the world’s biggest dick for that. He turns and moves towards your space, ready to see how far along you are.
"Hey." Alright, you might be a little - a lot - soft after hearing him adamantly defend wanting to spend time with you, so when you look up and see him in your doorway you can't help but smile. "You done for the day, handsome?"
The past week has been good - really good - between the two of you and he’s giving you an easy smile in return. Even if it’s slightly tired. “They’ve finally released us for the day.” He confirms, walking into the small room and looking around as was his habit.
"Last few brushstrokes." You motion at the canvas before applying just a tiny bit more paint to the bust on the figure in front of you before you nod at it in approval. "This one is officially done. Do you want to take a look before we leave?"
“I always want to see what you paint.” Dieter drops a kiss on your forehead and turns to look at the canvas.
"It's the one I sketched last week." On the second day you spent together, you had spent a few hours of the evening with him sitting so you could sketch out a portrait for him to show his director along with a few other pieces from your sketchbook. He had huffed at you for focusing on his profile when it made his nose the focus of his face, but he hadn't had any idea at the time that the real focus of the piece would be his eyes.
This - you and him - has become significantly easier over the past week, making Dieter wonder at times how the hell things had gone so wrong at the beginning. He knew, of course, but still - this was what he wanted. You sliding your free hand around his waist and tugging him close to your body on your stool as he catches sight of the portrait. "I—" He's stunned. The vulnerability in the brown eyes on the canvas makes him feel exposed. Raw and open for all the world to see. It's as if every bit of pain and joy he's ever experienced is on display. All his sins and triumphs listed. He can't even think of words right now as he stares at the face that he sees in the mirror every morning and yet, seemingly never sees this.
“What do you…um…” You panic slightly when he doesn’t say anything. After a week you’re used to Dieter’s low-key constant stream of consciousness. He’s rarely totally silent but when he is it’s usually because he’s thinking about something very deeply. But now that it’s your portrait of him that he’s contemplating, you’re nervous. “You…do you hate it?”
“No.” The word is almost forced out of him in surprise. Surprised that he doesn’t hate it. Not that your art is bad, he just doesn’t like himself. “It’s— I look real.” He tries to put it into words, but it’s almost impossible. “I— you see everything.”
“You’re always so busy hiding your eyes…” The look on his face reads shock, and you shift nervously on your stool. “I wondered how often you actually look at them.”
"As little as I can." He admits quietly, his hold on you becoming slightly more desperate. Unable to believe that you see him, exactly like this. There's a word that flutters through his mind and scares the hell out of him, so he doesn't say it. Never wanting to give you that ability to crush him, but it’s now something that is on the edge of his consciousness.
“Danica said the eyes are the windows to the soul,” you remind him softly. Not that he needs to be reminded of what his sister said to him years ago. Instead of saying anything else, you just wrap your other arm around his waist and look up at him. “Anyway, I—I’m glad you don’t hate it. Since you’re going to have to look at it a lot on set.”
There is just a moment where the two of you are staring at each other, one that makes Dieter want to say something. Something crazy and reckless and would be something that shattered this tentative relationship the two of you have started. Lining up with that word that is still knocking around in his addled brain. Instead, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, not wanting to fuck up.
The kiss is deep but not lascivious, more gentleness than lust, and that word floats through your head again for the hundredth time but you tamp it back down before pulling away. “Ready to go home, Dee?” Home. It’s silly, but that’s what the hotel has become.
"Are you done for today?" He asks, biting his lip as he pulls back to stop that sappy little smile from riding across his face at the idea of going 'home' with you. "We have things to do tomorrow, so running back over here isn't an option." He winks, not mentioning your birthday, instead giving you a dirty innuendo.
“This is actually finished, so I’m ready to go.” Standing up propels you into his arms a little bit deeper, and you can’t help but smile a little bit wider. “Thank you, by the way.”
"For what?" He cocks his head in confusion and furrows his brow at you.
“For…” It’s slightly embarrassing to admit that you were accidentally eavesdropping just a few moments ago, but it was an accident. “I heard Steve ask you to come in tomorrow.”
"Oh." He winces slightly sends you an apologetic look. "Sorry, I don't know why he was pushing. We are on schedule."
“I’m sure movies are like most businesses. If he gets things done ahead of schedule it spends less money and he gets a gold star from the studio.” Reaching over to grab your purse, you press a kiss to Dieter’s cheek when you straighten up again. “You didn’t have to say no for me.”
"Yes, I did." Dieter frowns, not wanting you to think that he would blow off your birthday to work. "I had told them that tomorrow was off the schedule before we ever started shooting. They had scheduled it in and have other things planned." He gives a small shake of his head. "He's just being greedy."
“Either way.” Nudging him toward the door, your fingers lace through his automatically. There’s rarely anytime you walk together now that you’re not holding hands. “I appreciate it. So, thank you.”
"Don't mention it." He feels weird when people thank him, like he doesn't deserve it. Probably because he feels like he doesn't due to the years of bullshit. But the way you thank him has him squeezing your hand. "What do you want to do for dinner?"
“How about the cafe by the hotel?” A few nights ago you had stopped there for supper after leaving set and loved it. The good food and live music had left you in an excellent mood after a long day, so you’re hoping it will do the same tonight.
"Whatever you want." He knows you will miss your tradition with Steph and Nora. Missing being away from them on your birthday means that he needs to make sure you have a great time. Starting now.
“That’s a dangerous thing to promise.” Not that you would ever ask anything extraordinary of him, but he likes to be teased and you like the way he blushes when you do. “What if I wanted something kinky?”
Dieter's immediately waggling his eyebrows at you. “Okaaaaay.” He huffs out eagerly, grinning at you even if his cheeks heat up slightly. For someone who has had orgies he finds that you fluster him in the weirdest ways. He blames it on the soulmate factor rather than the emotional entanglement. "Spanking? Bondage? Pegging? What are we talking about here?"
“Well…” Truth be told you had just been teasing him, but since it’s now the topic of conversation as you stroll out of the studio together, you bite your lip and tilt your head at him. “I’m not actually sure…most of what I’ve done is pretty vanilla. But I wouldn’t mind trying something new.” Which is not to say you are in any way dissatisfied with your sex life. It’s almost for certain that you’ve had more sex in the last week that you had in the entire ten years prior, and you don’t know of it’s the soulmate connection or just him, but it’s all been amazing.
"Okay." Dieter sees the hesitation on your face and knows that you aren't exactly the most experienced. One night after sex, the two of you had gone through some of your sexual histories. Not that Dieter remembered all of his, but he had told you what he could. "What have you thought about? Maybe some kind of secret fantasy. You know I'm not going to judge."
Admittedly your secret fantasies have more to do with romance than with sex, but that’s definitely too much for your week-old relationship to handle. You’re not expecting him to sweep you off your feet - you’re still just trying to find an even footing together. But it’s been going so well that you don’t want to rock the boat. “We did one the second day we were here,” you tell him. “The bath.” A few of his cast mates and members of the set crew that you’ve made friends with wave as the two of you leave the building together, a few of them tossing birthday wishes in your direction as you go. “But, um…” Your voice drops. “I don’t know if I’m ready to jump all the way to handcuffs or rope, but some people use softer things as restraints, right?”
"Bathrobe ties are a good one." Dieter tells you with a small grin. "Ties....I think there are a few packed in my suitcase. Lib somehow thought I was going to wear ties." He rolls his eyes and winks at you. "It'll only go around my neck if you’re cutting off the oxygen supply." He teases playfully.
“Baby steps.” You shake your head at him, now finding those comments much more teasing and flirtatious than you would have once. Your senses of humor aren’t so far off from each other, his is just more macabre. “Remember, we’ve been so good at not wanting to strangle each other.”
He snorts and shakes his head, grinning and lifting a hand at one of the harried looking PAs that is rushing from the parking lot. He leans in and brushes your ear with his lips. "Except that kind of strangling makes my cock harder." He teases quietly.
“Tease.” You throw him a pout as you walk, wondering for a split second when you became so fucking attracted to him. Or had you always been and your anger been in the way?
Dieter chuckles and steers you towards the car that had even rented for him to use. It was a small little thing, meant to get him back and forth to the hotel. “Always.” He promises.
“So supper and then we’ll get some sleep? Absolutely nothing in between since neither of us has any inclination in that direction at all?” You can barely keep a straight face through the sarcasm, knowing that without fail you’ll end up naked and satiated under those soft hotel sheets just like each night before. It’s intoxicating to be wanted, in a way that you’re much less afraid of it than you expected. This kind of need crawling under your skin isn’t harmful, it’s actually empowering.
“Absolutely.” Dieter rolls his eyes and drolls his answer sarcastically. Not like you hadn’t gone through the condoms the hotel had sent up twice. “Straight to bed.”
“And absolutely no shenanigans on the train tomorrow.” The little car is just big enough for two, but you had opted for a slightly more relaxed mode of travel tomorrow - taking the train from Geneva to Basel to visit the museum that houses so many of Hans Holbein the Younger’s works - and get you your first tattoo at one of the best reviewed shops in the country. The watercolor has been ready for almost two days now and you’re equal parts nervous and excited. “Tomorrow is a very solemn day. Obviously.”
“Very solemn.” Dieter agrees, opening the door for you and motioning for you to get into the passenger side. You don’t have an international driver’s license, so he had been driving back and forth. “No fun or smiling whatsoever.”
“So it’ll be like our first couple of dates.” The jokes are okay now. Now that things are going more smoothly and the two of you are doing your best to be open with one another. It’s been easier than you thought in some ways. Letting him in little by little instead of flinging open your existence to him all at once seemed to make you surer of the thing, and every day is a step in the right direction. And that includes the ability to joke together.
"Less screaming." Dieter wrinkles his nose at you and shuts the door when you are tucked into the passenger seat to round the front of the hood to slide in beside you.
******
The hotel isn’t far from the studio and the cafe is bustling when you step inside. It’s not a tourist trap despite being close to the hotel and the lake, but rather a brand-new place owned by a young couple that started having live music simply because their musician friends would show up any time of the day or night. The menu is full of fusion and international ‘greatest hits’, and their Switzerland-does-America version of fried chicken had had Dieter in the kitchen begging for the recipe to pass on to Rico when he got back to LA.
It's natural to have his hand on your waist, the warmth of your body transferring to him through your thin shirt. Walking in and greeting the wife who was working as a hostess for tonight. "We are back for more of your amazing food." He announces with a grin.
“Dieter!” She embraces him like an old friend, equally excited to see you as you get a hug of equal force before she ushers you over to a dark corner to sit. “We we’re hoping to see you both again,” she tells you with a grin. “We are going to make you American fondue.”
"American fondue, huh?" Dieter huffs, unable to stop the small grin as he looks over at you. "What do you think about that?"
“I’m in.” Fondue was on your list of things to try anyway, and everything at this particular cafe was amazing last time.
“Magnifique!” That earns a happy exclamation from your hostess, and she scampers off to the bar to grab what she swears will be the perfect drinks for the night.
"I like how we've just kind of given them control over what we eat." Dieter huffs with a good-natured grin. "It always means we are going to overeat."
“But we’re gonna be so happy about it.” The chance to nestle into his side for a while is more than welcome since you missed being able to spend downtime with him on set today.
Snorting, he turns his head and nudges his nose against yours. "Until you get the gassy side of stardom." He jokes. "I'm not lactose intolerant but this stomach gets sensitive sometimes." He reminds you with a rub on said belly.
“Ya know,” you peck a kiss on the bridge of his nose and grin. “After a certain point, lactose ages out of things. So maybe you just need to be eating fancier cheese.”
"But I like the squirt cheese in a can." He pouts at you, poking his bottom lip out and scrunching his nose at the kiss on his nose.
“Well then I hope you like having air freshener sprayed at your ass, because fart smells are not my jam.” There are a lot of things that Nora’s illness forced you to get over pretty fast, but somehow bad farts are still the thing that you can’t stand.
Dieter snickers and nods seriously. "No Dutch ovens." He grunts like he's just revealed some earth-shattering information.
“You’ll be sleeping on the sofa.” You warn him seriously, until your façade breaks and you laugh, snorting and winking your nose in the process.
"Kicked out of the bed in my own room." He huffs, meaning none of it and he starts laughing at you. Unable to resist leaning in for that kiss when you snort and wrinkle your nose, his total weakness where you are concerned.
“Only until you slither your way back in for cuddles.” You may have done it on purpose, and you’re not even sorry. It’s worth it for the soft look on his face right before he kisses you.
“So you acknowledge that I will be sneaking back into the bed.” He nods with a small giggle of his own. “Good.”
“I—” It flusters you a little, but you half-shrug and reach for his hand. “I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
“You do seem to like my cuddles.” He teases, knowing you are just as committed to them. There hadn’t been one night that you haven’t ended up wrapped up in each other.
“Just a little.” It’s not like there isn’t plenty of evidence - like the way you’re cuddled into his side right now. “Guess I’m more of a cuddle whore than I thought I was.” Or maybe you just needed the right cuddles.
“Which is perfect, because I, myself am a whore.” He pauses, tucking his tongue into his cheek. “Of cuddles, of course.”
“You’re horrible.” You giggle, hardly meaning it. Even a few weeks ago, you might have, but not anymore. Now that word is swimming around inside you and instead of frustration there is nothing but affection.
“You finally noticed!” Dieter chuckles and he could listen to your giggle forever. Amazing that he could barely stand to be around you before and now he hates not hearing you laugh and seeing you smile.
“Affectionately.” You’re still giggling when the owner reappears with two tall beers and a dish of beautifully fresh olive tapenade and slices of baguette as a first course.
There is something to be said for sharing this with you. It’s better than he had imagined, the way you smile when you hold your beer up for a toast makes his heart flutter. “To a birthday to remember.” He offers quietly.
“We’re two minutes in and so far I’d say that’s definite.” You tap your glass against his and take a sip before showing him the time of your phone - which you only noticed because of the “IT’S YOUR BIRTHDAY IN SWITZERLAND!” text you had gotten from Steph.
He smirks and lean in to press his lips against your cheek. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thank you, baby.” The little terms of endearment come easily now, just like the way that smile of his makes your cheeks burn.
“Oh, I did go ahead and get you a present for your birthday.” He hums, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the small, folded piece of paper he shoved into these pants this morning.
“Nooo.” You pout at him pointedly. “I told you not to! You’re literally paying for me to have a three-week vacation and talked your director into using my paintings in your movie. That’s so much.”
He sends you a playfully mean mugging look and shakes his head. “Because it cost me so much to let you stay in my room, in my bed.” He huffs, pushing the paper towards you.
“The plane tickets, all the clothes, all the —” The second you flick open the piece of paper, words stick in your throat and your jaw drops like concrete. It’s not large - done on the hotel’s stationary in ink that you’re sure came from one of their pens - but it’s…beautiful. A sketch of you lying on your side in bed with the sheets slung low on your hips and one hand reaching out toward the observer. He must have done it one morning that he woke up before you. Each line is delicate, tracing your figure the way only a lover could. “Dee, I—” But the words completely fail you, even looking up to find him carefully watching like he’s afraid you won’t like it. “It’s—I don’t even—” Letting out a choked half-laugh, you launch yourself at him even though he’s mere inches away, wrapping your arms around him but careful not to put a single wrinkle in the page you’re clutching. “It’s beautiful, baby. I love it.”
“Good.” Dieter exhales in relief. He had told himself it was a stupid birthday gift. The trip tomorrow much more appropriate, but he had still brought it with him. The need to give it to you clawing away at him ever since he had woken up to pee and come back to find you reaching for his side, seeking him out.
“I’m going to frame it when we get back to LA.” Carefully keeping the paper flat, you dig into the bag you’ve been carrying to and from the studio to slip his drawing into the pages of your own sketchbook for safe keeping.
"I don't think it's worth that." Dieter huffs, biting his lip to conceal the pride that you would want to frame something he had created. Not quite the same, but it makes him feel like he's displaying art on the fridge again.
“I do.” There’s a certainty to your voice that can’t be denied by either you, and when you turn around again to face him you press in to kiss him softly. “I’m sure if it.”
It's slightly annoying how much he blushes around you, he's Dieter - fucking - Bravo, but it just means that he's vulnerable. Instead of grumbling about it, he slides his hand around you, pressing against the back of your neck to deepen the kiss slightly.
“You know this is probably why they stuck us in a dark corner.” When you two of you finally part again, you’re grinning, breathless, and have the good manners to look just a tiny bit sheepish about it. “Stuff the PDA Americans away from the other customers while they make out.”
“Probably.” Dieter doesn’t care about that at all, but he turns to the beer and chuckles. “Why don’t we eat so we can go to sleep like we planned?”
‘American’ fondue, you come to find out, means that the gorgeous melted cheese is cooked with beer instead of wine, and all the little accoutrements that go with it are fried in some way - and honestly it’s one of the most delicious and filling suppers you could possibly have asked for. By the time you and Dieter stumble back into your hotel room over an hour later it’s much later than you ever go to bed at home, but that doesn’t stop you from stripping each other down and finishing off another box of condoms before passing out tangled in each other’s arms like always.
The alarm is set so you don’t miss the morning train to Basel, but the first few hours of this birthday might be better than any that have come before. And though the you of the last ten years would protest it…it’s because of Dieter.
******
“Where’s the coffee cart?” Dieter huffs, getting up to poke his head out of the small cabin the two of you had reserved to head to Basel. He’s grumpy because it’s early, but also because you both had to get up and leave without coffee in order to make the train.
“I’m sure it’ll be around soon.” You’re far more awake than him, if only because this is such a big trip - big day in general - for you. The countryside whips past the windows and you cut the video you were recording of the scenery short so he his grumpiness won’t be caught in the recording. “I’m sorry we had to dash out this morning.”
“It’s not your fault.” Dieter grins, remembering what he had immediately done when the alarm had gone off. He had been awake enough for that.
“No, but I definitely enjoyed it.” You shoot him a grin and tuck your phone back into your purse. There’s no pockets in the dress you picked out to wear today, but it’s comfy as hell and leaves your shoulder exposed for the tattoo artist later so that’s all that matters.
“The first official birthday present of today.” He chuckles and slumps back down into his seat. “I’ll wake up for that any day of the week.”
“Me too.” Patting the bench seat beside you, you tilt your head to extend the silent request for him to come and sit. “If the cart doesn’t come around soon, I’ll go down to the dining car and get you some coffee myself, okay?”
“No.” He shakes his head and slides across the small aisle to sit beside you. Immediately leaning against you and cuddling into your body. “I’m just grumpy.” He admits petulantly. “I’m sorry.”
“I don’t want you to get a headache,” you tell him honestly, dropping a kiss on top of his head as he cuddles up under your arm. “Me either. So we’re both gonna have coffee and there’s no need to be sorry.”
He sighs happily and burrows into you just a bit more, closing his eyes. That word is popping up in his brain more and he figures he needs to go back to sleep or get some caffeine so he doesn’t fuck things up and ruin your birthday.
It’s about ten minutes later that a chipper older gentleman knocks on the door of your cabin, announcing the arrival of the much-anticipating coffee. When you poke your head out to grab a cup each for you and Dieter, you also grab some pastries to make sure you have a little bit of breakfast in you. Being hangry won’t make today any fun. “Black coffee and a Nutella croissant.” You grin, handing them over to him.
He groans happily, taking the coffee and immediately pulling the lid off to take a sip. “God, I love it.” He takes a sip and moans. “So good.” He doesn’t even realize that he came so close to saying those words, too busy closing his eyes and letting the caffeine hit his system.
“I thought you’d like that.” Plopping down beside him with your own breakfast, it’s all you can do to try to calm your stupid-ass heartbeat from the sentence he almost said. This is getting ludicrous. Every time he uses that word you feel like you’re about to bust out of your skin. Maybe you need to have a talk with Steph later.
Coffee and croissant consumed in silence except for the little sounds of appreciation. He feels more alert by the time he’s licking a smear of chocolate off his thumb and draining the last of the coffee from the disposable cup. “What do you want to do first?” He asks, wanting to see how you are feeling.
“How early is the tattoo appointment?” He had made all the arrangements for you, forwarding your art to the shop and refusing to budge when you quibbled over payment. Despite being excited you’re actually pretty nervous, only having felt the inherent pain of permanent ink second hand from him.
“I scheduled it for two.” He hadn’t wanted to rush you in the museum and figured that you would find somewhere to eat before you went to get your tattoo.
“So how about we wander around the museum first thing, then find someplace to eat before the appointment, since you said it will probably take a while?” The train is scheduled to arrive just after the Kunstmuseum opens, so you’ll have a few hours to walk around and absorb things before needing to be on your way.
“That sounds like exactly what I want to do with you today.” Anything you want, that’s what’s on the table. “And hey—” he bites his lip, wondering if you will be insulted by this, but he wants to offer. “If when you get started on your tattoo, if you don’t like the pain, if it’s too much - I’ll sit for you.” He offers. Knowing that there is pain involved in getting your soulmate’s tattoos, but it might be less than the tattoo itself. If he remembers right, it’s just a quick searing pain rather than the hours in a chair. Some people think they will like it and they don’t. “If you want, of course.” He adds hastily, not wanting you to think he doesn’t think you are capable of it or anything.
“I’ll keep it in mind.” Squeezing his hand in yours, you lean over to press a kiss to his cheek and nudge it with your nose. Dieter is capable of being sweet at the most unexpected times, you’ve found, and it really makes you wonder how many of these moments you missed out on over the years by being stubborn and short-sighted. You shake that thought away for the moment, though, and take another sip of your coffee before squeezing his hand again. “I want to try to do it myself. It—it means a lot to me. To have my family represented like it will be.”
“I completely understand.” He does, just like the triangles were singularly significant to him, he would have never let you sit for them for him. You are seated next to the window, allowing you the sights as the train forges on and he leans against your shoulder to look out with you. “We could always have train sex.” He suggests playfully after a moment.
You nearly snort in response, looking over at him with one eyebrow raised and a smirk on your lips. He didn’t watch you get dressed this morning, so he has no idea that you not only tossed a fresh pack of condoms into your purse, but also put on the skimpiest lingerie you’ve ever owned in your life - bought especially for your birthday. “We could, huh?” It’s flattering as hell, the way he can’t seem to get enough of you, and makes you feel wanted in a way you can’t describe - even beyond lust. “Would that be fun for us?”
Dieter starts to rock his hips in the same motion that the train makes. The clacking keeping time with his thrusts into the air. “Whadaya think?” He huffs, grinning at you. “Wanna ride my rocket on a train?” He is teasing and yet if you are down, he will be all over you, unable to even express how much he loves that your sexual energies match. The idea that you were some sort of prude was way off.
Leaning in close, you nip at his earlobe and grin when you can feel him jolt slightly against you. “Look in my purse, babe.”
He glances at you warily, trying to sense a trap. He had a very hands off policy on a woman’s purse after the one incident where he had his ass kicked after rifling through a connection’s purse for her stash, but he reaches for it. Opening it up and grinning immediately when he sees the foil packets tucked into a pocket. “Someone’s horny.” He coos teasingly, looking up at you with that same silly grin.
“Thinking we would go an entire day without fucking would have been extremely foolish.” Shifting on the bench a little, you know full well that the smirk on your face has gone devious. “Although, you should know. Our hotel can’t send anything up with room service, but they did have an excellent suggestion of where I could find the other thing I wanted for today.”
“What did you ask for that they couldn’t get you?” That has him sitting up straight, eager to hear your answer.
“Telling you isn’t as much fun as you finding out for yourself.” You tell him honestly, biting your lip from the slight nerves flipping in your stomach right now. Yes, it’s your birthday, but you’re the one tied up in a bow as a gift for him right now.
Dieter sits for a moment, trying to figure it out before he starts looking at your clothes. Narrowing his eyes as he gauges if there are lines he hasn’t seen before under your clothes. He stands up and walks over to the door to flip the lock and immediately starts pulling off his shirt.
“There he is. Eager and ready.” A rapidly undressing Dieter is a sight you’re now intimately familiar with, and you have to say a silent thank you to the universe for putting the two of you in a car with no windows facing the inner part of the train. “I swear, I don’t understand people who can’t admit to wanting their own partners. Shit’s so stupid.”
“So you admit you wanted me when you slammed the door in my face?” He asks, sticking his tongue out between his lips as he unbuttons his jeans.
“You weren’t my partner then.” You remind him, wishing not for the first time that you could banish the memory of every single time you ever hurt him.
You frown and Dieter immediately rushes over to kiss you. “Yes baby. I know. We weren’t together, I was just teasing you.” He murmurs, not wanting to ruin your birthday.
“Everything’s okay.” That is something you can promise him, kissing him back and letting him pull you into his lap when he sits down on the bench seat again. “I just hate that time was wasted on me being a stubborn asshole.”
“You just played hard to get.” He jokes, running his hands up and down your back. “But we are right where we need to be.”
When you duck your head to kiss him, your hands gently move his - directing them from your back to your thighs and encouraging his fingers to slip under the hem of your dress. With no one able to see inside your car, he could undress you fully and you wouldn’t mind in the least.
He chuckles against your lips, loving how eager you are. Ever since that first night, you have demonstrated how much you love his hands on your body. “Dee…” The nickname has long since stuck with you, almost nearer to a pet name between you even though it’s the same one his manager uses. “No ripping, okay? I want this set to last.”
He snickers, biting your bottom lip. “I told you I would buy you more panties.”
“I know.” It’s not that you particularly care about the pair that he tore two nights ago, it’s that you really like what you picked out for today. “But you don’t need to tear these.”
“Oh.” You’ve piqued his interest, “Why is that, baby?” He hums, tucking his mouth against your throat and nipping while his hands slide up your thighs and over your hips to squeeze.
“Because…” Taking ahold of his right hand even as he’s fogging your brain with the feeling of his lips and teeth on your skin, you slide it down to the apex of your thighs as you hover in his lap. There’s no doubt that you’re wet enough that you’re practically dripping into his hand - since the panties that you’re wearing offer absolutely no protection whatsoever. “Of this.”
“Jesus fuck.” Dieter groans when he finds the crotch of your panties missing, stroking your bare cunt directly. “You are walking around in crotch less panties and you expect me to not drag you into a corner everywhere we go?” He huffs.
“I didn’t think you’d find out this early in the day,” you admit, albeit sheepishly, as he draws a gasp out of you with his long fingers.
“Should have known baby.” He practically purrs it as he starts to rub your clit. Giddy that you wore this on your birthday. It’s like his own present to open. “Addicted to you.”
“P-probably— oh fuck.” He’s learned your body so well in the space of a week that you have to wrap one arm around his shoulders for leverage just so you don’t lose your balance when he makes you shudder with each stroke of his fingers. “Should have guessed. Fuck Dee, so good baby.”
When you cum, he loves to have his mouth on you. Pressing hot kisses along your throat as he works you closer. Loving the unrestrained way you whimper in his ear. “Cum for me. Cum and I’ll fuck you right here.” He promises, words slurred against your skin.
“Fuck yes.” It’s not as though it takes a huge amount of coaxing - he has the uncanny ability to bring you up to that peak and make sure you come crashing down with an intensity that you’ve never felt before. As much as he might claim to be addicted to you, you have to admit that you might be addicted to him too. “So close, baby.”
“Good.” Dieter groans, cock twitching in his pants and he swears one day you are going to make him cum without touching him.
His fingers rub tight circles on your clit, relentlessly building you up to the top of that gorgeous mountain and pushes you right over the edge so that you’re clinging to him and moaning his name in his ear as your cunt clenches down on nothing and your hips rock in his lap. This right here is a vision he wants to see for the rest of his life. The thought takes hold in his mind and he moans your name while your ride his fingers. Watching you come apart is the best thing he’s ever seen.
As soon as you can move again, you’re clamoring off of his lap to pull his jeans down just a little more. His trapped cock springs free, making both of you groan in appreciation while you nab a condom for him, impatiently waiting to have your place in his lap back.
For Dieter, it’s a frantic race to get the foil packet open and rolled down his aching length. Eager to buried inside the hot confines of your cunt that cradles him so perfectly. His cock twitches once he’s done and reaching for you. “C’mere baby.” He begs, needing to be inside you.
“Gonna have to keep me steady.” The train rocks slightly, moving rhythmically down the tracks, and you hold tight to the luggage rack above his head while you get situated straddling his thighs. This position has your tits directly in his face, which is obviously one of the reasons he loves it so much, and your free hand fiddles with the strap of your dress playfully. “Do you want it all, baby?” You ask, knowing he’ll be biting at your dress if it’s still in the way. Besides, the bra you’re wearing barely counts as clothing and he loves being teased. “I’ll take this off if you promise to be a good boy and suck on my tits while you fuck me.”
Groaning, he nods eager. “I will, fuck I’ll suck on your titties.” He promises, “I’ll suck them the entire time.” He won’t, he’ll end up kissing you, but the sentiment is there. “Let me suck your titties baby.”
It’s a gorgeous thing, how eager he is today, and how you know he’s not faking it or embellishing for your benefit just because it’s your birthday. He’s just always ready to go, matching a sex drive you didn’t even know you had. “Okay,” ducking your head, you nip at his bottom lip while he lines himself up, and you sink down into his cock as you pull your dress over your head. “Since you’re always so good to me.”
He doesn’t know which is making him groan more, you sinking down on his cock or you taking off your dress. Either way, his eyes are lighting up at the barely-there bra and he wastes no time burying his face in the valley between your breasts before sucking a nipple into his mouth through the sheer material.
“Fuck, baby.” Throwing your head back in response to the way he’s trying to bury himself in your chest only pushes your tits deeper into his grasp and you gasp out his name as you start to grind his favorite figure 8’s in his lap. You really haven’t had this kind of sex drive since your teens and if you think about it too much you might start to think that word again, so you don’t. You shut your mind up with the way his cock drags along your inner walls, rising and falling on him and impaling yourself like a willing martyr.
His mouth is eager, and his hands are greedy. He’s allowed to be with you. You’ve never once pushed him away or said that it’s too much, that’s he’s too much. Being with you is like the balm to his soul he didn’t know he needed, and he lays himself bare every time. Groaning into you, the steady clanking of the train times the rolls of your hip and the push of his feet in perfect harmony.
You never thought he would be the person you got lost in, but it happens so easily. The moments swallow you up and let you exist outside of the world, only thinking about the way he seems to fit you like a lock and key. It’s not until afterwards that you think of course - you’re soulmates, no matter how long it took you to get here. He is the key that fits perfectly to your lock, and vice versa. At least as far as your physical relationship goes, that part has always been obvious. It’s the emotional part that you’re still afraid of, and you find yourself constantly doing anything not to think about it. All that matters is the here and now. That’s what you tell yourself when you’re wrapping your arms around him and moaning his name into every deep kiss. It’s going so well, don’t ruin it.
His mind is empty of everything except you. Savoring every moan and whimper that pours out of your mouth and tucking it away. His hands grip you harder, something he discovered you enjoy immensely, and he bites down on your nipple just to hear you gasp.
More isn’t something you typically ask for - the two of you seemingly always working up to a near frenzy at some point in the day - but right now there’s something about the way his fingers are sure to leave bruises on your hips that is driving you crazy. “Harder, baby,” you whine, groaning when his fingers dig into you again. “Fuck — wish we had some rope or something.”
“Shit.” Dieter hisses around your nipple, letting go of one of your back to blindly pull on the belt that was looped into his pants.
It probably wouldn’t look sexy to the outside observer, the frantic way the two of you work to get his belt free and wrapped around your wrists behind your back, but once you’re there it is spectacular. The leather bites into your skin just enough without cutting you, and his grip on the strap pulls tight every time you bounce with one his length with the rhythm of the train. It might be the most control you’ve ever given him over you physically - the most obvious show of trust - in your entire relationship. I know you won’t hurt me, that this will only feel good. And holy shit are you correct about that.
Your arms behind your back makes your tits perk up more, right in his face as they bounce in the confines of your bra. “Fuck baby, look at you.” He groans, admiration shimmering in his eyes as he watches you.
“Y—you like that?” You know you certainly fucking do, the angle making him strike something inside you that is completely new and building you up again fast and furiously. “You like me at your — fuck! — mercy, baby?”
“Yes.” Dieter is honestly more of a sub than most men and has no problem with letting his partner take control, but right now? Yes. He loves this. Your walls are nearly strangling him and he loves the frenzied fever that your body is trying to push for.
At this angle and intensity, you know you won’t last much longer, and you look down at him from having your head and shoulders pulled back to see all your own desperate need mirrored in his face. “Then t-take me,” you practically moan the words out as the rhythm of the train pushes him deep inside you again. “‘M all yours.”
That shouldn’t make him nearly snarl in pleasure. It shouldn’t be a bullseye into the heart of caveman thought he’s never had before. But it does and it is. Dieter tugs on the belt harshly, pulling your arms back and forcing your head to tilt back slightly, his teeth sinking into the juncture of your neck while his cock drills up into you.
The people in the cars on either side of you definitely just heard you cry out his name at an unholy volume, but fuck if you care right now. You’ll have teeth marks in your skin and belt imprints in your wrists and you’ll wear them like badges of honor for however long they last. It’s only another dozen thrusts before your whole body is locking up above him, shuddering in pleasure from an orgasm so intense you swear the whole world goes blank for a second and you forget to breathe.
He cums when you do. Immediately pushed over the edge by the feeling of your body trembling in pleasure. It’s too much. That word, that forbidden word nearly cried out in a phrase that would strip him bare, so he doesn’t dare. Instead, he’s capturing your lips in a kiss, trying to banish the thought with every stroke of his tongue against yours.
“I…” When you can breathe again, panting against his lips and pressing your damp forehead to his, it’s almost too strong. The words - the feeling - it’s there. But there’s no way in hell he would feel the same. Not this fast, or maybe not ever. So you force your lips into a quirked smile and let yourself laugh. “I guess we’re both switches,” you observe. The other thing will stay tucked away. Locked up in your heart maybe forever. He never needs to know how fast you fell in love with him once you gave yourselves the chance.
Dieter laughs breathlessly, kissing the indentations of his teeth on your skin in silent apology. You will just have to wear them until they fade, and he had dug in hard. “I guess so.” His fingers are gentle as he loosens his belt from around your wrists so that it falls to the floor and he leans back, bringing you with him.
“Think anybody heard us?” You giggle in his ear, knowing there’s no way that they didn’t. With your wrists free again you can wrap your arms around his shoulders, holding onto him for support as his own wind around your waist to keep you steady.
“Let them hear.” Dieter doesn’t really care. The two of you are in a private car on a train. Just two of millions who had potentially had sex on this route. He would be proud to weather that ‘scandal’ with you. “At least they can’t say I don’t do a good job.” He jokes, nibbling on your neck playfully.
“You always do a good job.” That much you can promise him, as you brush damp curls from his forehead and leave a kiss in their place. “I’m pretty sure I’ve had sex with you more times in one week than all the other times before, combined.”
Tsking, he is secretly pleased with that little odd fact. “What is wrong with people?” He huffs. “You are gorgeous and should have been beating them off with a stick.”
The way you fluster at that - at such a simple compliment - has your cheeks and ears burning but you just shrug. “Wouldn’t matter now, anyway,” you remind him softly. “Now that…” You have to swallow the words all over again and end up gesturing between you. “Now that we’re this.”
“Now that we’re this.” Dieter echoes with a soft smile. He leans in and kisses you tenderly. “We better clean up. We should be there soon.”
You steal one more kiss before climbing out of his lap, reaching for the tissue box helpfully supplied to you as passengers - or left behind by the last occupants of the car. Either way, you grin when you pull your dress back over your head and reach to pick up his belt to hand it back. “Restraints seem to be a yes.”
“I was surprised you wanted to do it.” He admits, removing the condom and cleaning himself up. “But I will never say no.”
“Spur of the moment thing that turned out very well.” When you’re both tidied up and dressed again, you plop down beside him on the bench and sigh. “So…I’m guessing you liked your surprise?” After all, the lingerie was as much for him as it was for you. If not more.
“I am, but I think you forgot the idea of a birthday was that I and supposed to surprise you.” He teases with a small wink after he’s already lifting his arm around you to let you curl closer.
"And I loved both of my surprises." The drawing he had given you last night is tucked safely in your own sketchbook and the surprise wake up of his head between your legs this morning would have been gift enough on their own, but technically this whole day is your gift and that just makes you feel spoiled beyond belief.
“The day isn’t over yet.” He murmurs, turning his head to kiss yours. “I want this to be the best birthday ever.”
"What else could you have possibly planned?" Short of flying Steph and Nora out in complete secrecy, there isn't a damn thing you can think of that you could want for today. And that would be far too much to pull off - not with the way Steph's job has been lately. "This is already by far the most extravagant birthday I've ever had, Dee. Even if all we did was just ride this train."
“Wellllllll.” Dieter rubs your arm and wonders if this is going to mean anything to you. “I may have arranged for us to have the gallery to ourselves this morning.” He confesses. “We are being given a private, personal tour by the curator. Just us.” It was actually something he had done himself, not asking Libby to take care of for him. He had wanted to do it himself.
"You what?!" Sitting straight up in his arms, you can feel all the blood drain from your face as your eyes blow wide in shock. "You—the whole place?" You're honestly so shocked trying to process the enormity of the gesture that you're not really forming full sentences. "How?"
“I may have tossed my name around a bit. Apparently, they like me here?” He admits, biting his lip and shrugging. “Plus, a promise of signing autographs for the staff and a donation.”
"Dee..." There are tears welling up behind your eyes, you can't deny that. What he went through to do something so meaningful for you is absolutely not lost on you, and you wrap both arms around him tightly. "Oh my god..." There aren't enough kisses in the world to say thank you, but you give him several immediately. "I—I will have a nerd girl meltdown; you know that right? Like this is going to be the highest-level art dork you have ever seen from me, and I swear I'm going to work so hard to make your birthday memorable this year." You may not have bottomless funds or a name to throw around, but fuck if you're not going to do everything you can for him - especially with that feeling living in your chest now.
Grinning like he won the lottery, he gives you a small shrug. “I know how much it means to you. I wanted to be able to make sure you had plenty of time uninterrupted with her.” He tells you, referring to the painting you are most excited to see.
“Thank you.” You bury yourself against his side, hugging him tightly and nearly giggling with excitement. It’s not that no one has ever done anything nice for your birthday, it’s that no one was ever capable of doing something so big, and the fact that he arranged something so personal means the world to you. “Thank you so much, baby.”
“You’re welcome.” He sighs, happy that you don’t think it’s lame. He hadn’t felt you would, but someone else would have been offended it wasn’t some expensive gift.
******
The walk from the train station to the museum is welcome after three hours in that little car. It’s far too early in the day for anyone back home to be awake yet so it’s just you and Dieter walking hand-in-hand through the busy streets of Basel with you sporting a dopey ass grin on your face the entire time. The day has barely begun and it’s already perfect.
It’s silly. It’s over the top and it’s probably completely unnecessary, but Dieter spots a flower vendor, setting up his baskets of flowers to sell and he can’t help himself. The first flowers he had given you were ones that had been bought for him and thrust into his hand. Right now, he wanted to choose some for you. “Come on.” He tugs you off course, known for that there is some time before you need to meet the curator.
“What are—” Whatever he has spotted, you don’t see – just a nice older gentleman fiddling with his wares behind a flower kiosk. “Dee?”
“Good morning.” Instead of speaking English, Dieter switches to the Swiss German dialect that is used in this area. He had been using English because most everyone who has come up to the two of you has recognized Americans and he hadn’t wanted to exclude you. “I would love to purchase some flowers for this beautiful woman this morning.”
“Good morning!” The man pops up from his seat and reaches to shake Dieter’s hand before tipping his cap to you, noting the confused look on your face. It isn’t the first time he’s met a tourist couple, so he just brushes it off with a smile, grateful that he doesn’t need to dust off his rusty English. “What does the lovely lady like?”
“She likes lilies, but I’m searching for peonies, zinnias, poppies, lavender and flower of the Incas today.” He admits, squeezing your hand and flashing you a smile before he looks back over at the lovely older man. “They are special to her, so today - I want her to have the most beautiful ones.”
“An interesting combination.” The man throws you a playful wink, understanding in a basic way that this conversation is confidential. He starts to buzz around his buckets and baskets, looking for each flower. The zinnias and peonies are abundant and in many different colors, the poppies he has are solely red, and the lavender and Peruvian lily are plentiful as fillers for bouquets that he will make throughout the day. It’s not a combination that he has ever done together before, but that doesn’t mean it won’t look nice. “A bouquet?” He asks Dieter, showing him one by one that he has each flower that has been requested and letting him choose the colours of zinnia and peony. “Or a crown fit for a queen?” He throws him a wink with that remark – waving a hand at his specialty – flower crowns of all shapes and sizes hanging from his little stand.
Dieter looks over at you and smiles. “A crown.” He decides instantly, pointing to the yellow zinnias and the pink peonies. “She deserves it. She’s—” He breaks off, shocked at his own next words, but he says them anyway. Safe in the knowledge that you won’t understand him. “She’s the woman I love.”
“A crown, then.” The older man doesn’t fuss or tease like an American seller might, just nods his head with the understanding that this is a gesture from a man clearly not ready to have the conversation. It’s not as though it’s the first time he’s ever seen a man say it with flowers - just the first time he’s ever seen it with such a unique combination. “This will only take a minute,” he assures Dieter before ducking behind his stand to get to work.
“I had no idea you speak German.” You admit, looking suitably impressed and surprised when he turns back to you. So far you had heard just the tiniest bit of French from him in Geneva but nothing more.
Dieter turns and gives a slightly self-conscious shrug. “You don’t speak it, so I tried to stick to English to make you feel included.” He tells you honestly. “Plus, everyone has known we are Americans.”
“Look at you just being super considerate and impressive.” It didn’t take you too long to figure out that part of his praise kink probably comes from a lack of sincere compliments in his life - most people just blindly trying to kiss his ass without caring what they have to say. So, you’ve made it a point to make sure that any sincere compliment you have for him is said without a trace of any kind of teasing. Especially right now, when you feel like your cheeks are on fire from what you just watched. “You…um…you remembered all the flowers?” Sure he’s seen the painting you did, but you would never expect him to retain it like that.
Nodding, he basks in the affectionate look you are sending him, covering him like a warm blanket. “I did.” He reaches around you and caresses your shoulder. “They are going to look so pretty on your shoulder.”
“Yours, too.” Never forgetting for one second that he is actively encouraging you to leave a permanent mark of yourself on his body, you lean in and press your lips to his softly. “You’re spoiling me, Dee.”
“I want to spoil you.” He murmurs. “You have been amazing here with me. And I— I’m enjoying this. A lot.” He doesn’t say what he wants to, that’s too much. But he had to let you know how much he was enjoying you being here.
“I am, too.” You bury your face in his chest for a moment and sigh, inhaling the familiar scent of hotel soap and his cologne and making your smile grow even wider. “Remind me to bake Libby a thank you cake when we get back to LA.”
“Don’t do that.” He huffs playfully. “She will be intolerable.” He does owe his manager, she had known what she was doing after all, despite him thinking she was crazy.
“Steph has kept her gloating to a minimum.” The small amount she had done was earned, of course, since she was the one who kept encouraging you to give this bizarre situation a try. You don’t know how the hell she’ll react if you admit to her that you’ve actually developed that feeling for him. She’ll probably start planning your wedding. Nope. Nope. Don’t have that thought. Far too giant of a leap.
Dieter chuckles and drops a kiss on your lips. “Together they would be unstoppable.” He grumbles.
“No cake then.” You pretend to pout, pushing out your lower lip just because you know it will make him kiss you again. “Maybe we’ll just post some pictures to social media today to make her happy.”
His lips find yours again, he just can’t help himself. “That will make her giddy.” He promises, looking over to see the florist finishing up and moving out from behind his station with the flower crown. “My lady, your crown awaits.” He theatrically intones.
“Crown?” Your jaw practically drops at the word, and you immediately follow his eyes to the man emerging from out of view. A little bundle of flowers was all you were expecting - a small bouquet that you could tuck into the open zipper of your purse. A crown is an infinitely bigger statement, and this one is stunning. “Oh, wow…”
“It’s okay, right?” Dieter worries that you don’t like it instantly. That he had chosen wrong.
“Baby, it’s gorgeous. I love it.” You promise him, barely catching the end of your thought before you can give yourself away.
Dieter grins, taking the crown from the older man gently and turning to very seriously place it on your head. Adjusting it carefully with his tongue poking out from between his lips. “There. Perfect.”
“Beautiful.” The man agrees, smiling to see the absolute joy on your face as Dieter fusses with the crown.
“Danke schoen.” is about the extent of your German, but you thank the man profusely as Dieter pulls out his wallet.
“You should tell her,” the man nods his head toward you, ultimately only charging Dieter half of what he normally asks from tourists.
Dieter makes up for the generosity by tipping the man extra, smiling and winking at him. “One day.” He promises, although he doesn’t know if that day would ever come honestly.
“Soon.” He encourages, laughing when you nab Dieter’s hand and press a kiss to his cheek. There has been no shortage of PDA over this last week, and today will be no exception. Especially not with the way your heart is swelling, and you swear you would give yourself away tonight if you talked in your sleep.
Dieter thanks the man again and grins at you. “Ready to go be nerdy together?” He asks.
Slipping your hand into his, your head down the street together side by side. “You’re so lucky that I have kept my constant listening to the Six soundtrack to my studio or else you would have smothered me after the fiftieth time playing ‘Haus of Holbein’.”
“Oh my god.” He groans, giving a small chuckle. “You are a nerd.” He doesn’t mean it really. “Although I’m interested in what you would have set as my theme song when we first met.”
“You don’t want to know that.” The ringtone you had set for him originally was done out of annoyance and an abundance of misplaced negative feelings, and you actively cringe thinking about it. Now that you know him better, the song doesn’t fit at all.
He snickers slightly, knowing it must have been bad. “Your ringtone was the Imperial March” He admits with a bashful grin.
“I…deserve that.” You shrug, shaking your head at the awful accuracy. “I totally deserve that.” The fact that everything has changed between you so drastically is an intense relief, but you still cringe slightly. “Yours was ‘You’re So Vain’…”
Dieter sputters slightly, trying to contain his snickering but it doesn’t last long. Laughing out loud and causing a few glances your way, he full on belly laughs at your selection. “Oh god, that’s so great.” He’s not mad, honestly tickled at your expression of displeasure at him being your soulmate. “It’s our song now.” He declares playfully, throwing his arm around you.
“Oh god,” you groan, huffing dramatically at him even as you let yourself laugh with relief that he isn’t mad or offended. Things really have come a long way, which you prove to yourself with teasing. “We’ll have a Pride & Prejudice themed wedding with that as the first dance,” you snort – imagining how ridiculous that would all be. “I’ll walk down the aisle to the Imperial March.” Joking about it is how you’re going to cope with the fact that it’ll never happen, you decide – since for the first time in your entire adult life you’re wishing it would.
Dieter hums, trying to ignore the way his heart skipped a beat when you mentioned a wedding. Telling himself that you are just joking. Instead, he opens his mouth and starts to sing, badly off key. “You’re so vain…you probably think this song is about you. You’re so va-in….”
“Neither of us is allowed to sing.” One finger pokes him in the side as the museum comes into view. Neither of you can carry a tune in a bucket and you both know it. “For everyone’s sake.”
“Ow.” It didn’t actually hurt, but he sends you a pout, rubbing at his rib just to make you feel sorry for him. It might earn him an extra kiss and he’s found he loves kissing you.
“Awwe, poor baby.” The fact that he’s exaggerating and there’s no way you actually hurt him doesn’t stop you from pausing on the sidewalk to kiss him. Although now you have definitely doomed yourself to trying not to have any wedding thoughts whatsoever for the rest of the day. He probably doesn’t even want to get married. Least of all to me.
When your lips press to his, he can’t help but grin. “Thank you.” He huffs when you pull away, sending you a wink.
“So what’s my ringtone now?” Since the subject has been broached, you have to admit you’re curious. It was more than a week ago that you changed his, and you wonder when yours changed in his phone.
Dieter pulls out his phone and opens up his sounds. When he pushes a button, Adele’s song comes out of the speakers. “So can I get it right now? Mmm. Can I get it right now? (Can I get it right here?)” He flushes slightly. “You seemed to like that song at the concert.” He explains.
“Awwe, yours is so much more personal than mine,” you admit, flustering a little than he even paid that much attention to you on what ended up being another bad night. Taking out your own phone, your ears are burning as the song that plays when he calls you starts up. “Ohhhhh you gonna take me home tonight…Ohhhhh down beside that red fire light. Ohhhhh you gonna let it all hang out - Fat-bottomed girls you make the rocking world go round.” By the time you changed it you had decided to opt for comedy, and already noticed that Dieter loves to check out a good ass.
Grinning, he shakes his head. “Guilty.” He confesses easily. “Love that song too.”
“It’s a good song.” And at the time you changed it, a love song would have been presumptuous at best. “C’mon, Dee.” Nodding to the museum now just a block away, you give his hand a soft squeeze. “Let’s go be nerds.”
“Let’s go be nerds.” That will be the theme for the day if he has his way. Whatever you want, he wants you to have. Pleased that he gets to spoil you on your special day.
The Old Masters curator of the Kunstmuseum Basel is waiting for you inside when you arrive, and Dr. Brinkmann shakes Dieter’s hand eagerly before offering you the same gesture and wishing you a happy birthday. The whole place is quiet today, just employees and the two of you, and he was excited at the prospect of a private tour when Dieter told him that you had a background in art as well as just being enthusiastic.
“Thank you for doing this.” Dieter tells him, really turning on the charm. “This has been on her bucket list, and I could think of no greater way to treat her to a once in a lifetime event.”
“As I understand it, the main attraction for you today is Lais Corinthiaca?” He asks, amused smile growing wider when you can barely contain the excitement in your features when he mentions the painting. “We have a few drafts of the piece in our collection as well, that I took the liberty of bringing up to the gallery this morning so you can see them side by side.”
You’re clutching Dieter’s hand so tightly that you might accidentally dislocate a bone, but you’re at a level of excitement that pretty much has you vibrating out of your skin and cannot be held responsible for the tightness of your grip. ��Would—would you mind—if we saved her for last?” It feels silly asking, but this is a painting that you fell in love with as a teen and you’ve been dying to see it in person ever since. But the fact is, you know you won’t pay attention to a single other piece once you’ve seen her. “Like a saving the best for last sort of thing? Is that alright?”
Dieter grins, exuberant that you are this excited for something he had planned out. He never plans things, but this was personal. This was you and as a part of really trying, he was making an effort. The curator glances over at him and he nods. “Whatever she wants.” He agrees.
******
Spending the entire tour of the museum telling yourself that you absolutely will not cry ends up being about as futile as you expected. The moment you step into the gallery where Lais hangs on the wall with the other drafts and copies on easels around her, it’s like you’ve forgotten how to breathe. The painting isn’t terribly large - just over a foot high and under a foot wide - but she is the only thing in the room you seem to be aware of at all besides Dieter’s hand in yours.
It’s beautiful, watching your reaction to her. He finds himself watching your eyes misting up, ignoring the painting. Right here is the feeling he had when he had seen her so long ago, sinking into repose and then finding wonder in this piece. He brings your joined hands up and kisses yours softly.
It’s silly to say that a painting feels comforting, or welcoming, or even like coming home - but in this moment it’s a little like déjà vu. As if Dee was always meant to be a part of the first time you stood in front of Lais. As if the overwhelmed tears on your cheeks make just as much sense as any of his fans getting choked up when he takes pictures with them. It’s almost like time travel - you could swear that you can smell the wet paint and musky tallow of burning candles lighting up Holbein’s space.
Dieter knows that you will be staring at the piece for a while, but he doesn’t rush you. He couldn’t count the hours he had spent with her, not just because he had been stoned. This is a special moment and he’s happy he gets to share it with you.
You’re not sure how long you look. The curator has a few factoids to share and a little history of the piece, and before you know it the three of you are standing together in front of the various versions of the painting deeply immersed in your own personal theories about who the lady might be reaching out to or what she might be offering to the viewer.
“I think she’s beckoning him to her.” Dieter poses. “There’s a coyness about her in this draft.” He points to the slight crinkle around the eyes. “Teasing.”
“Lais was a courtesan.” The curator nods, clearly ruminating on the facts of the piece where Dieter is looking at the emotion in her body language.
“She feels warm in the final draft.” The painting on the wall reaches out to you like a pleased lover - you have to agree with Dieter on that one. “The gesture is soft, like she’s letting her guard down.”
“It takes a special man to allow a woman to let down her guard.” Dieter hums, almost to himself. Somewhat talking about the way you’ve let your guard down as well.
“M-maybe…maybe she was scared,” you murmur, not quite looking over at him. Are you certain he’s talking about you and him? Absolutely not. But are going to go out on that limb just in case? Well… apparently so. “Letting somebody in when you’ve built up ten-story walls isn’t easy…”
Dieter nods, still studying the portrait. “No, it’s not.” He agrees, knowing that he had deflected with his partying and casual sex. He had been afraid of being hurt too. “But…” he nods towards the final piece, the one that is prominently displayed. “The prize is worth it.”
“I—” It’s on the tip of your tongue, that thing you’re absolutely not going to say, even as you lean into Dieter’s side and put one arm around his back. “I really hope you mean that,” you say instead, wishing you were braver. That those walls weren’t still there at your knees, just waiting to be needed again. You want them gone, but you have to admit that you’re still scared.
His arm comes around you. Naturally and easily, folding you against him as if you belong. Because you do. “I do.” He turns to kiss you, because the moment calls for it.
The curator has retreated out of infinite politeness, but neither of you have noticed. You’re tucked against Dieter’s side with both arms around his waist now, trying desperately hold back words and tears that make might this moment too heavy. “You are, too.” Those words, at least, are soft. Nearly whispered because they’re just for him. “Worth it, I mean. Worth…well, everything…”
It’s on the tip of his tongue to say something stupid. His brain battling between ‘Marry me’ and ‘I love you’. Both enough to scare you away. It’s too soon and there’s still so much to learn about each other. So he doesn’t say it, he lunges forward and this kiss is desperate, needy and giving at the same time.
It takes longer than maybe it should before you can force yourself to break the kiss, trying as hard as you can to communicate everything you’re feeling in that one moment before you smile up at him sheepishly. Your cheeks are burning in his cupped hands, but you are reveling in the tenderness of the moment at the same time. “Save that thought for when we’re alone,” is your breathless suggestion, trying to be polite about the fact that you probably shouldn’t just make out in front of the museum curator, but knowing that you’ll be craving that feeling again in no time.
Dieter chuckles and looks around. “I think we are alone.” He admits, grinning about it. He’s not ashamed. “But we should wait. Do you want to take some pictures with her?” He asks, nodding towards the portrait.
“You know what I mean.” Your lips twist into a coy smirk, and you pull your phone from your purse to hand it over to him. “Will you take a couple? You’re better at selfies.”
“Of course.” He snaps a few of you by yourself before he includes himself in the photos. Smiling with you and knowing that Libby will be squealing happily when they go up on social media.
“We should find the curator.” Tucking away your phone again after snapping photos of each of the copies of Lais’ portrait, you lean over to kiss Dieter one more time. “Best birthday ever, baby. And the day’s not even half over.”
“Good.” He’s proud of himself for that. That he’s able to give you a great memory when there are quite a few that involve him that are less than stellar. But this is what starting over is all about, making new memories. “We still have the rest of the day to either crash and burn or make it epic.” He teases, hand squeezing your ass playfully.
“We’re not going to crash and burn.” Your arms around him squeeze gently, like you’re trying to summon the strength in yourself not to blurt shit out that would scare him off at the same time you’re trying to reassure him. “We’re not like we used to be.”
“You mean anger isn’t our first reaction?” Dieter gives you a shocked look, mouth open aghast. “Nooo. Say it isn’t so?”
That earns him a laugh, and your nose wrinkles on a grin as you shake your head. “We tend to react to most things with horniness first, these days.”
“I mean…yeah.” He rolls his eyes even as that required kiss is dropped on your lips for the nose wrinkle. It happens pretty much every time now. “How else am I supposed to react when I know exactly how well you fit me and how good my name sounds being moaned out in my ear?”
“No fair.” You pout heavily, squirming slightly against him. “You can’t just talk about it, you’re gonna get me all worked up.”
“Poor baby.” Dieter coos softly, using the fact that the two of you are alone in the gallery room to pull up the edge of your dress and slide his fingers along the banding of your panties. “I guess we are going to have to see how long you can hold out.”
“Dee,” you whine his name softly, pouting again until he relents and smooths your dress back into place. “We’re gonna end up skipping lunch and finding someplace to fuck,” you predict, shaking your head at him in amusement.
He smirks, loving how eager you are for it when just a short while ago he would have bet his entire drug stash you wouldn't sleep with him if he was the last man on the planet. "I have an idea..." He hums, waggling his eyebrows at you.
“What kind of idea?” This morning on the train definitely proved that you’re up for a little experimentation today.
"Well...." Dieter grins, sliding his hand back up to your waist and turns you to the exit of the exhibit. Determined to talk and walk at the same time. "I was thinking we would find a toy store. Maybe discover something for you to wear while we are having lunch."
“To wear, huh?” The curator is waiting for you at the end of the short hallway, and you kiss Dieter’s cheek quickly before you get close enough for the older man to overhear you. “Sounds like fun.”
He grins in triumph as you thank the curator profusely, gushing over the experience. Proud that he could set this up for you.
"I really can't thank you enough for providing such a unique experience to us." Honestly you never could have even conceived of a museum visit like this in a million years and the whole thing felt like a dream even before making it to the Holbein section of the galleries. As someone who has dedicated yourself to art education, you've learned more just today than you did in entire semesters at school and the fact that Dieter made all of it happen just makes your heart swell.
"It was my pleasure." He assures you with a smile, taking your hand and shaking it gently. "Rarely do I find people so passionate about Holbein as you and it is refreshing." He nods at Dieter, shaking his hand next.
"Hopefully I'll be back again one day." Though you can't allow yourself to be presumptuous enough to assume that you would come back again with Dieter in the future, your absolute hope is to one day bring Steph and Nora when your niece is just a little bit older. No matter what, you dearly hope this won't be the last time you see Lais Corinthica in person.
Dieter quickly fulfills his part of the agreement, giving out autographs and taking pictures with most of the staff of the museum, laughing and turning on the charm for them. They had done him a huge favor and he owed them that. Once done, he guides you out of the building and grins happily. "So, what's next birthday girl? Lunch or toy shopping?"
“If we toy shop first, then I can wear it at lunch.” The idea has been rolling around in your head since he brought it up, knowing full well that it isn’t something you would want to be actively playing with while you get your tattoo.
"You read my mind baby." Whipping out his phone, he looks for the closest store that would cater to those toys and selects it. "It's only a few blocks away." He smirks, and winks at you. "Let's go find you something to have nestled in your tight little cunt while you eat, and I can hold the remote."
“I’m going to be a wreck by the time we get to the tattoo place, aren’t I?” With his large hand entangled in your smaller one, you grin at him as you walk down the street together. “Something remote controlled, huh?” He’s going to love that.
"Well considering I don't think it's a good idea for it to be buzzing away inside you while you are in the chair..." He drolls, grinning at you. "I figured I'd relax you by making you cum before we get there."
"And an endorphin rush afterward is a great pain killer." You inform him, as though he isn't acutely aware of the feel-good rush as orgasm can provide.
“Babe.” He pouts at you, poking his lower lip out and turning on the wounded look.
"What? I—a couple of the girls on the set crew told me that getting their first tattoos made them really horny..." For a second you're afraid you've offended him somehow, and you shrug innocently hoping that you didn't say something wrong.
"No, I know." He promises. "It does make you horny. And you're teasing me talking about endorphins."
“It’s not teasing if you get to fuck me as many times as you want when we get home tonight,” you remind him, fully aware that that is where the night will end up. You’ve never had a significant other on your birthday before ever and you want to make sure every second is memorable. “And probably on the train again, too.”
He whines at the prospect of that and tugs you forward when he starts walking a little faster. "Fuck." He grunts, shaking his head. "Can I – would you let me with the toy?" He asks breathlessly.
“Would I let you fuck me with a toy?” Your forehead furrows, like you’re almost wondering why he’s even asking - he saw your toy collection. “Of course, baby. We just have to find something fun.”
"No, I—" He stops and bites his lip, his eyes practically alight with excitement. "I mean being inside with the toy." He explains, knowing that it's a possibility that you might not be into it, but if....
“You…” Tugging on his hand makes him stop in the middle of the sidewalk, and you pull him close to the building you were walking beside so that the other pedestrians will just walk around you and ignore you. “You want to…” Your voice drops cautiously low, but there is definite curiosity in it. “You want to double team me with a toy, handsome?”
"Fuck yes." His dick twitches in his pants just thinking about it. "Something small. The bullet buzzing away inside you while I'm right beside it." He swallows, nearly drooling at the idea and raises his brows. "What do you think?"
"I dunno, babe..." Alright, now you are teasing him. Batting your eyelashes with your voice low and your arms around his waist to keep him close. "You're always saying how tight I am. Do you think you could fit?"
His knees buckle slightly, making his body drop a couple of inches before he catches himself, leaning back against the wall. "Fuuuuuuuck." His whine is nearly pained, and his breath is ragged just thinking about it.
"I'll take that as a yes," you giggle evilly, leaning in to kiss his cheek before straightening up again. "Come on, baby. We're almost there."
"I can't fucking walk." He huffs dramatically and turns towards the wall to adjust himself.
It takes him a second to recover, but you kiss the pout from his lips and two blocks later you're rounding the corner into an alley to the discreet entrance to an adult 'entertainment' store.
"Okay." Dieter is over his pouting, eager to see what the store has available. Theoretically, he'd love to buy something and have you wear it out of the store. "Let's see what we can find."
"This place is huge..." Normally your toy purchases are made discreetly at the little locally-owned shop one town over, but this place is nearly an emporium. "I don't even know where to start." Signs indicating lingerie, costumes, games, toys for him, toys for her, toys for them...this store has it all.
"Anywhere you want." He promises, smirking at the selection. "I think we can just start in the toys for her if you want."
“Organized. I appreciate that.” The sheer size of the place is actually a little overwhelming, and you tuck yourself into Dieter’s side as you head up the stairs to where the toy sections are indicated.
"Now, if you don't like something, don't just agree because I like it." He cautions. "Because I like a lot of things. Doesn't mean you will."
"Maybe we can start with things you do like, though?" Looking at the racks upon racks and walls covered in options, you spot an area of shelving that clearly sports panties with vibrators built in and you tug him in that direction. "I've never had anyone else to play with these things with, so I don't know what's good for two."
"Anything can be for two." He tilts his head as he starts considering. "We will just have to see what sparks our interest."
“These are…interesting.” There are shelves upon shelves of boxes and displays touting discreet play, but after a while you stumble upon a group of them that are controlled by phone app. Some of them look like the same sort of device you’ve been seeing all along, but a few boast countless vibration patterns and the ability to work over long distances. “One of these could be fun…” You pick up a box with a bright pink device on the cover marked explicitly for long distance play as well as close encounters. “How long do you think long distance really means?”
"Considering I don't plan on being too far away from you, I don't think it will matter." He grins at you. "But maybe we can experiment with it. Have you go into the bathroom and I'll see if I can make it turn on?" There is a dirty little wink sent your way with the idea.
"I'm going back a week before you." It's not a thought you've had a lot of fun with, but he is scheduled to be on set for six more days after you fly back to LA. "And we live...not too close." You shrug meekly, realizing that you must sound incredibly clingy right now. "I was thinking of that."
His grin gets even wider and his eyes light up. "Ohhhhhhhhh, I see." His dark chuckle is filthy because of what you are proposing. "We will have to try that."
"Could make for some fun FaceTimes." But the fact is, if you think too much about how in a couple of weeks you'll be sleeping without him again, it's going to seriously bum you out. So you turn on a bright smile again and start comparing some of the devices on the shelf. "Are these sort of what you had in mind?"
"Yeah." Dieter wants to ask you to stay, have Libby change your ticket but he knows how needy that would make him seem. Even though you are enjoying yourself, you do have a life away from him. You have to be ready to get back to it. "Which one looks like something you would wear? Or want to wear?"
"Is it weird that I prefer my sex toys in unnatural colors?" There are bright pinks and purples and blues all laid out in front of you. "I'm not trying to pretend it's a real cock, ya know? I don't want something that's like...as close to your skin color as possible. I'd rather just have it be you." He's still holding the box you handed him, and you look over at it to glance at the features listed. "Plus, it's easier to tell if they're clean or not."
"No I agree." Dieter nods quickly. "Honestly I drift towards the neon colors, and glow in the dark ones are fun too." He chuckles.
"Glow in the dark sounds fun." For no reason other than it being silly, of course. "Do you see one?"
Snickering, he looks around and points to one. "There is a neon purple on that is supposed to glow in the dark." He tells you, admiring the was the toy is curved. "Looks like it goes inside you and presses against your clit."
"Think you'll fit in along with it?" You toss him a smirk as he stands beside you and bite your lip trying to imagine how full you'll feel - as if he doesn't make you feel like you're being split in two all on his own.
Groaning quietly, his eyes flutter shut at the thought of being buried inside you beside that toy. "Yes." He whispers, slightly breathless.
"That's gonna be your new favourite thing, isn't it?" The thought makes you giggle evilly, and shiver in anticipation at the same time. He's so enthusiastic about the idea that it can't be anything but pleasurable.
“Everything with you is my favorite.” He gushes without even considering how it would sound. He’s unable to remember the last time he’s had so much fun with sex, or so much of it.
"Same." Leaning into his side, the now familiar and comfortable bulk of him makes you sigh a little and you look up to find him smiling down at you just the same. "I..." Ah, fuck it. "I hope you know that if I didn't have to get ready for the school year, I would stay until you're done shooting."
“Really?” He is shocked at that, pleasure flooding his chest when you nod shyly and bite your lip. “That’s good to know.”
"What can I say?" His smile makes your heart clench and feel like it's going to explode at the same time and that word is at the forefront of your mind again. "You've grown on me."
“Like a rash.” He teases.
"Sure, babe." You roll your eyes, blowing out a breath that could have turned into annoyance except for the fact that you can actually tell when he's teasing you now. "Like a rash."
“But I’m your rash.” He coos, leaning in and kissing you. “Besides, you like the beard burn on the inside of your thighs.”
"Yes, you are. And yes, I do." The last place on earth for you to get self-conscious about a kiss is in the middle of a sex shop, and you lean into it unapologetically.
He nips the bottom of your lip. “Good.” He breathes out. “I’ll put that burn there whenever you want.”
"Do you want to look at anything else, or go grab some lunch?" With about an hour left before your appointment, you're starting to get a little more nervous, but being right here in his arms is the most soothing place you could ask to be.
“Anything you want to pick out for me?” He asks, curious to see where your ideas would lead you.
"Well you don't need a Tenga Egg." You throw him and smirk and lace your fingers through his to start strolling towards the section of toys meant for men.
“No, that would disappear and then I get to go to the hospital.” Dieter winces, shaking his head.
"Is something like a cock ring too simple?" He has a whole stash of toys, you know that, but you don't really know his preferences with them or even what they are. This will be the first time you've ever used them together.
“No.” Dieter bites his lip and smothers a small moan at the idea of wearing one as he teases you. “I think that would be fun.”
"Vibrating or not vibrating?" There are racks upon racks of the things, and you get lost a little in his little sounds of excitement as the two of you start to look through them.
“Fuck, vibrating.” Dieter decides with a grin, spotting one that is remote controlled as well. “That one you would control, baby.”
"His and hers vibrators," you giggle a little at the thought, but immediate feel the lump in your throat when Dieter's lust-blown eyes settle on one that lists multiple speeds and a Bluetooth connection. "Find one you like?"
“You haven’t lived until you have a vibrator against your taint.” He tells you seriously, picking up the box and flipping it over to read the back of it.
"I guess I'll never live, then." You tease, poking him in the side. "Pick whatever you want, and we can spend all night tonight playing with our new toys."
He grins for a split second before he widens his eyes and turns on a puppy dog look. “Mommy I want this.” He pouts playfully, wondering how you will react to that.
There's a moment there where your throat just runs dry and you nearly choke on the word, surprised to find yourself wishing instantly that it was you and him out somewhere with a little kid Nora's age that has your eyes and his wild hair. You only let the thought exist for a second before you're blinking it away, shaking your head to banish it like a haunting spirit. "I'll pass on the mommy kink," you tell him, making yourself laugh although you can hear how awkward it is. "But if that's the one you want, it's what we'll get."
He snickers, pulling you into his arms and kissing you, a grin still on his lips. “I had to.” He teases. “But no mommy kink. Got it. Does nothing for me anyway.”
"Since we're experimenting today, is there anything else you do want to try?" The check-out is downstairs on the main floor, but the two of you are slow to make your way in that direction. Too wrapped up in each other to care about speed.
“I think we should start slow, right?” He asks, looking over at you. “I don’t want to overwhelm you or have it turn out to be too much too soon.”
"I've used toys before." It's not as though having something vibrating in your pussy is a brand new sensation. It will just be new to do it with someone else. "I mean I'm not saying I'm ready to try out being a full-on dominatrix, but if there was some roleplaying or something kind of lowkey that you wanted to add in…we could do that."
“Hmmmm.” He grins and leans down to bite your shoulder. “Sounds like the birthday girl has some ideas. What do you want, baby? I’m your very willing accomplice.”
"Honestly?" The way that word makes your forehead pinch and your eyebrows raise with worry is obvious, and you shrug slightly. "I just...I know you're more adventurous than I am, and I-I don't...want you to get bored..."
Dieter frowns, stopping immediately and turning towards you. “Have I made you feel like I’m bored?” He asks, needing to know if he’s made you feel this way or if it’s just a general worry.
"No." He hasn't at all – always making sure that you enjoy yourself and that you get off before he does at least once. More if he can manage it. "I'm just...I'm just a worry wart, I guess." You're just realizing you're in love with him and that has made you instantly terrified of fucking things up, apparently.
“Baby.” Dieter senses that this moment is not one for jokes. His hand that isn’t holding a toy rests on your waist and he tugs you close. “I promise you, if I need something, I will let you know.” He murmurs softly. “I’ve had more amazing sex in the past week with you than I have had in years.”
"Okay." Both of your arms come around him, holding him just as tightly for a moment and letting yourself listen to the steady bump of his heart in his chest. It's only been a week; you remind yourself with annoyance. Chill the fuck out. "Let's go get something to eat. The appointment's coming up fast."
“Yes ma’am.” He pats your ass and pulls away. “We will pay for these and put them on in the restaurant.” He tells you with a grin.
______
Master Tags: @pixiedurango @chattychell @winter-fox-queen @lady-himbo @artsymaddie @princess76179 @paintballkid711 @missminkylove @pedrosbrat @ew-erin @sarahjkl82-blog @sharkbait77 @justanotherblonde23 @lv7867 @recklesswit @mylittlesenaar @f0rever15elf @gallowsjoker @steeevienicks @athalien @sherala007 @skvatnavle @thatpinkshirt @jaime1110 @girlimjusttryingtoreadfanfics @goodgriefitsawildworld @greeneyedblondie44 @katheriner1999 @littlemousedroid @churchill356 @ajathegreats-blog @hardc0rehaylz @beardsanddetectives @kirsteng42 @ladykatakuri
YSV: @tortor-mcgee @hnt-escape @sammus-white @spanishmossmagnolia @frasmotic @quietpainter
My Masterlist!
#Pedro Pascal#Pedro Pascal character fanfiction#Pedro Pascal fanfic#Dieter Bravo#Dieter Bravo x reader#Dieter Bravo x you#Dieter Bravo x female reader#The Bubble#Soulmate AU#enemies to lovers#Trash Can Man
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But I'll be honest I think the reason dnp and louise have stayed close is BECAUSE dnp stayed out of the britubers drama back in the day. Like, all of the others signed up to management companies and like, although they probably were all really friends, I bet you they were all also contractually obligated to collab a certain number of times a month, be involved in certain things etc. Dan and phil didnt get involved in any of that. As far as I'm aware they have always managed themselves so they didnt have any legal content obligations. This would at the time have been a very risky move because it meant that they were left out of a lot of the british youtuber things/events/videos/content and were at risk of being forgotten between it all. In practice however obviously dan and phil came out of the other end better off than any of them. Because of the management and content obligations and very public friendships, the others were involved in a lot of drama and scandal and it kept people watching, but now that its over, most of them have kind of faded into irrelevance. Even lousie only gets a couple thousand veiws most videos. But dan and phil who avoided all that, are still very relevant to both an old and a new audience. They both still get at minimum a couple hundred thousand veiws per video and often as much as a million. That is incredibly impressive given that people who were way more popular back in 2016 now are barely spoken about. I would be very smug about it all of I were them honestly. But back to my point. I think because dnp were never involved, their relationship with louise was never really tainted by it all.
i don't think they were managing themselves. at least since around tatinof they had to have a "team" behind them. also, the biggest brit crew drama i can think of is hello world. other dramas were individual and related to dating, breaking up, weird business choices (aka Zoe's advent calendar) and etc. i'm GLAD dnp weren't a part of hello world. like can you imagine? shddhhdjsso
you're probably right about the brit crew being obligated to collab from time to time. but also, it was so fucking fun and beneficial that i can't even say anything bad about it. the relevancy is a hard topic. because i have to say that Zoe is still relevant to some and she gets good views. after Ottie's birth her audience shifted quite a lot i guess, and it's not bad. maybe it was refreshing and made her relevant to a different group of people. it's funny how she fell out with the most of the brit crew but is best friends with Mark who wasn't even close to the mess at that time. i think if Joe continued with purely youtube he would be good as well, but he chose a different path when everyone started stepping out. it's an interesting part of youtube history. how all of a sudden a group of like 10-15 people just scattered. Louise lost a chunk of audience when she stopped collabing with Zoe and co. but she also stopped doing makeup stuff from which she started (as much as i know) and maybe that withdrew attention as well. dnp "officially" are irrelevant tbh. if you look at their views back then and now, man, do i have a bad news for you. we stuck with them but even within the phandom people are leaving. 2019-2021 was the era of cleansing and it's very noticeable on dnp's channels. some returned obviously but it's not how it was. i think it's also because Phil's content is the same as 10 years ago and it IS irrelevant in youtube's eyes. Dan is just trying to do stuff, whatever. idk what kind of content he would make if not dystopia daily. he should lean towards "Internet analysis" with his love for an hour long rants.
my point is, everyone who was at peak in 2014-2016 are pretty much irrelevant by youtube standards.
and i agree that Louise and dnp's relationship could survive because they were more natural in the 1st place.
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What are some of your favorite moments you've written?
Oh, god. Um.
I'm gonna give you a bunch because you've literally asked me to tell you my favorite children:
"That’s right, little man. That’s Draco." He pointed. "And, see, his hair matches, what I can only guess is your tie," Ron offered, flipping the silk over the rail, "and his eyes match your mug." Draco stepped back for a moment and took it all in as Ron spoke. "He takes after his mum, not his dad. Well, other than that he wants to be like the dad in front of him." Finally loosening that laugh and handing the baby back to Draco, he tapped on the rim of the Quafflepunchers mug "And I thought Ginny and I were the only ones that called you princess."
From You Disgust Me, Werewolf Baby (Drarry)
I have a drabble where Callie Torres makes Mark Sloan basically worship her and his list is so earnest and dirty and at one point he says something about her ass launching a thousand masturbatory fantasies and he should know because he's had quite a few of them, and she's stunned and fumbles for a bit and then he says:
Mark was surprised that she even had to ask. "You really don't know, do you?" Seeing as her expression remained unchanged, he turned her head to look back in the mirror and held her tight. "You are the most phenomenal woman I've ever, ever known. You change lives. You save people. You saved me. You are gorgeous, talented, brilliant and an infinite amount of adjectives that could never touch the wonder that lies here in you," he said, bringing his hand to rest over her heart.
From We'll Forget The Past (Sloan/Torres... Mallie? Is that the name?)
Every time I've ever written stand up for Richie, I get really proud of myself, but the stand up in You're lucky we're not measuring... Richie! is my favorite.
The Alouette Scene and Eddie's visions in the hospital in Feeling like I've Missed you.
When they almost forget each other in You'll Be Mine and I'll be yours
Can I say the entirety of your eyes look like coming home??? No. Okay, the opening lines, then.
When Tyrion saves Sansa from Joffrey in the throne room and when he reveals his words at dinner in It was only a word.
the cocktail swords and the granny panties in call me friend
chapter 10 of as i lay beside the fire. all of it. i worked really hard on that.
That stunned him. “Why? There never needed to before.” That was true. In every iteration of their relationship, they’d never spoken about it.
“There was one before,” Richie said with a bitter laugh. “An affair.”
[...]
“God, why are we still doing this?”
“Do you want to end this? If you're not happy-” he said, stepping back and ready to give in.
“No! I don't want to end this. I fucking love you. For whatever that's worth,” he let his hands drop to his sides, finally feeling much soberer than he had in hours. “Isn’t that the worst thing you’ve ever heard?”
Eddie was stunned to silence. Richie said it to him frequently. It would never cease to amaze Eddie to hear that assurance, especially in the middle of a fight. Myra would only ever come close to it in a fight with “You don’t love me anymore, do you?” and “You’re loving this, aren’t you?” Never anything that made him remember what he was fighting for. Just guilt and manipulation.
“That's the worst fucking part, Eds. I love you so much I can hardly stand it and you don't love me and I still stay.” He shook his head and looked up at the ceiling. “And I’ll keep staying because I love you too much to live without you.”
From Seal My Fate
Bill's Death in Exit Light, Enter Night
Barry's Internal Monologue as he performs McB's soliloquy after Sally's Death in Signifying nothing.
Eddie bringing home the health class baby in Butterflies the beautiful kind
Richie and Eddie teasing each other about how they would lose the games in All that's Dead and gone juxtaposed with the rule change
Phone Sex in Latching on to you, especially when richie's convinced eddie's at the office and it's like surprise lol I'm at your door
Ben Stammering over te fact that Richie used to date Jonatan Knight in Show Our Dedication
All of You can change right next to me. okay, no but Richie and Went sharing a joint, and The Search For Eddie
Richie calling the kiss that he shared with Eddie in the cavern a "true love's kiss" in Where you book matters
Schmidt and Cece falling through Jess's door in You Understand
Also:
“Hey, Jess?” She hmmed a response, looking up at him innocently. “While I would love for this to continue, in the spirit of full disclosure, I just remembered that you are only wearing that bathrobe, so I’m gonna need to take a second.” He leaned off of her and tugged a little at his pants, aiming for discretion. He cleared his throat and stood up, offering a hand to help her up. “Do you want to put some clothes on and then continue this conversation?”
Impressed with the direction of the evening, she gave him a skeptical smile. “You never want to talk.”
That much was still true. He just needed to cool down, he didn’t want to stop. He tilted his head toward the bed and explained, “The non-verbal conversation we were just having.”
She laughed, nodding her head exaggeratedly. “Got it. That one.” She tapped her kiss swollen lip gently and realized how ridiculous this coded conversation was, considering that they were all alone. “The mouth one.” She turned back to her closet and started rifling through her shelf of more comfortable clothes. “I guess that does make kissing a conversation, doesn’t it?” She dropped her robe off of her shoulders casually. Thoughtlessly, even. “It’s-”
It took him a moment to come back to earth, allowing himself the real, honest opportunity to watch her and really see her. The elegant curve along her ribs to her hips, The dimples just above her- “Jess!”
“What?” she asked, turning back to face him and bringing her robe back up.
“You just-” He gestured vaguely in her general direction from behind the hand he’d clasped over his eyes. “Opposite of helpful!”
Laughing again, Jess couldn’t get over how ridiculous he was. “What? You literally just saw me naked five minutes ago.” She let her robe drop the rest of the way off. They’d already seen each other naked several times. “You can watch me get dressed,” she shrugged.
Turning on his heel, he moved back into the hallway, crashing into the doorway. “I’m trying not to get too worked up here and that’s not helpful. I’m gonna…” He gestured over his shoulder with his free hand before turning and finally allowing himself to open his eyes when he’d faced away from her. “I’m just gonna go get a drink and reset a little, okay?”
“Okay.”
Jess let him take a few steps out of her room and a devious idea bolted through her mind. “Hey, Miller?” she said, hoping to call him back.
Turning back immediately, he peeked his head in the door. “Yeah?”
She looked at him appraisingly, then smiled. Her nimble fingers quickly parted her robe, announcing “Flash,” before drawing it back around her into a hug.
“Did you literally say flash as you were-” She giggled and all he could do was shake his head as he turned around, finally heading for the kitchen. “Nevermind. See you in a minute, Jess,” he called over his shoulder.
He reached the kitchen, grabbed 2 beers from the fridge, placed it on the table, then rested his palms against the cool stainless steel, taking a deep breath to steady himself. He shook his head and pulled his phone from his pocket. “You are gonna be trouble.” He responded to a string of text updates from Schmidt, then took a swig of his beer. “I had to teach this girl how to say penis a couple of weeks ago and now here we are. What have I done? I’m a victim of my own making,” he grumbled to himself despite the rare, honest smile on his face.
From Exposed
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hey! see u were taking requests so i wanted one with mason related to "london boy" by taylor swift? maybe reader is a singer or something like that?
one of the best taylor swift songs imo, so of course!
𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐧 𝐛𝐨𝐲 — mason mount
summary: mason shows you around london during your break, and now you don't think you can ever go back
notes: requests are open again! my asks are open.
Leaving your hometown in New York to visit the world was one of the hardest things you had to do. But you had your dream job, now it was time to follow it. Your recent album was a success, pouring your heart into it as you recovered from your breakup. Your fans had watched your relationship build, and then break apart. Hearing your side of things through 14 songs. Awards, interviews, and traction had come from it, earning you a world tour. It was a scary thing to do, considering it was your first international tour.
“I just want to come back to New York already, I’ve not been on this tour long.” You complained to your sister, curled up in a hotel bed in London. Your first destination was the UK, and there was nothing worse than being homesick.
“Quit being a baby, the UK is so nice.” Your sister replied, chuckling shortly afterwards. “Me and dad visited Manchester, I think? Very nice looking, at least where we stayed.” You sighed, knowing that didn’t make it any easier. You loved your cosy apartment in New York, you were even starting to miss the constant traffic sounds and arguing in the early hours of the morning.
“I guess, and I know London is nice, at least. I think I’m gonna interact with some fans,” you decided, pulling the duvet further up your body, “speak tomorrow at sound check.” You ended the call, liking some tweets and replying to a few things, eventually tweeting something of your own.
“Happy to see a lot of my UK fans tomorrow, can’t wait to scream my feelings out with you,” Declan read out, giving Mason a cheeky look. The pair of them were in Mason’s living room, enjoying their evening of FIFA. The boys had spoken about you plenty of times, in interviews too, Mason declaring you as his celebrity crush.
“Shut up already, she probably doesn’t even know who I am.” Mason stated, resting his arm over his eyes to conceal the blush on his face. Him, Declan and a few other boys were going to your concert tomorrow night, some of the WAGs suggested it as they loved your music.
“You think she’s not going to notice a blue tick in her dm’s? It’s worth a shot.” Declan encouraged his friend to shoot his shot, close to grabbing his phone and doing it himself, but instead he was watching Mason bashfully scroll through your twitter replies. “Do it, or I will.”
Mason sighed, clicking the reply button and typing out a reply, handing the phone to Declan to review. ‘Can’t wait, wanna see you.’
“Perfect,” Declan mumbled, pressing the reply button for him. He knew Mason never would, he just saved him 20 minutes of back and forth debate. Handing Mason his phone back, Declan smirked as he watched his friend's face change from fairly embarrassed, to shocked.
“There’s no fucking way you sent that.” Mason remarked, refreshing his phone to see his tweet attract likes. “You dick.”
Declan just laughed as Mason had turned completely red, watching the likes and replies collect under his tweet. Moments later, you’d appeared in his dm’s.
‘I recognise you.’
It was an ominous message from you, one that had you pacing and replaying the creepy message over and over again. But Mason smiled at the message, all ounces of worry leaving his body as he replied to you.
‘Oh yeah? From where?’
‘Actually, I think I recognise your teammate, Pulisic. He’s all my brother talks about sometimes. But all I know is that he plays for a soccer team.’
He laughed at your reply, Declan watching over in pure disbelief.
‘You have a lot to learn about the UK, and luckily I know all about it.’
‘I’ll hold you to that, come backstage after the show, bring whoever you’re with. I’m in London for the next few days before my next show, maybe you can show me around.’
“There’s no way you’re flirting with Y/N Y/L/N within two minutes of replying to her tweet.” Declan stated, Mason smirking at his best friend before sending another reply.
‘Bet.'
Your show was now over and you were anxiously waiting for the boys to be escorted back stage. You didn't know much about football, especially over here, but you knew the boys that were coming back stage were professionals. You'd learnt their names, Declan, Jack, and Mason. Jack and Declan brought their girlfriends along, but Mason was 'painfully single', as he put it.
Finally, as you sat down in your chair to relax, you heard a knock at the door. It was them. They had all filed in, the two girls in shock that they were meeting you. You'd given them all a hug, and gotten to Mason. He looked down at you as you pulled him in, squeezing you tightly before letting you go again.
"Did you guys enjoy it?" You asked, ushering them to the couch for them to sit down. You wanted them to feel as comfortable as possible, rushing over to your dressing room fridge and pulling out some drinks.
"It was amazing," Sasha gawked, still in awe over seeing you for the first time, "we saw you have one in Birmingham in a few weeks, so we're going to that one too." You blushed, returning to your seat opposite the couch.
"That's so sweet! I'm sure I can get you some good tickets, I'll dm you on Instagram or something." You suggested to her, Sasha eagerly nodding her head. You conversed with the group of five, Mason giving you a particular look that you had mirrored back to him. You planned on getting his number, and making sure he showed you around London.
Soon enough, the group was heading back to wherever they were staying, as it was beginning to get quite late. "Thank you guys for coming, and I'm so glad I met you."
Mason stayed behind, folding his arms and sharing a smirk with you as his friends voices trailed down the hallway. "So, about this bet."
"Yeah," you replied casually, grabbing your water bottle from the table and taking a sip, being in the presence of an attractive man again was giving you quite the nerves, "I'll take your number, because I'd love to get to know London." He nodded, grabbing his phone from his jacket pocket and handing it to you.
"Perfect. See you."
You and Mason had planned your first meeting in a pub. It wasn't the classiest of places, but your plan was to get to know the UK. Mason had ordered you both a drink, guessing what you like and nailing it when you went in for a second sip and shoved a thumb up.
"So," he began, fiddling with the coaster his beer sat on, "how long are you in London for?"
"Just until Thursday, Friday morning I'm heading to Manchester." You stated, realising you only had four days with Mason, including today.
"Well, we better make the days count then." Mason declared. The pair of you spoke about his career as well as yours, talking about how different school was for the pair of you. Mason had stood up, holding his hand out for you to take, and you'd accepted it without complaint. He led you out of the pub and through the town center, gazing at the stalls set up around you. The weather wasn't so different to New York, both constantly dreary, but you were liking London so far.
On your second day together, you'd taken a cab to another town, this time to just experience the busy streets. To Mason, this was normal. For you, it was only familiar. New York was one of the busiest cities in the world, but London was different, better in every other way. You'd finished your day together, stomachs full of pub food, and in the back of a cab, rain pattering on the windows. You'd shuffled closer to Mason, placing your hand on his and squeezing. He looked at you briefly, smiling his usual smile, before quickly looking out at the street in an effort to hide his tinged cheeks.
Day three, the weather was too bad to do anything. But Mason kept you company in your hotel room. He'd taught you a bunch of British slang, laughing as your accent completely butchered them all. You'd shown him a snippet of your new song before room service had arrived. And the night ended with the pair of you collapsed in your bed, tv playing in the back ground, but your eyes on each other. It was like pure magic, the long-awaited feeling of his lips on yours. You'd been thinking about it all day, missing every opportunity until now.
Your final day was the worst. You both knew it was coming, you wouldn't see him until you had a break, and he had one too. You both had stupidly busy schedules, as well as living in different countries. Maybe one day you could bring him to New York, show him your side of life. And maybe one day you'll branch out and move here.
Mason had helped you carry your things out of your hotel room, which was taking you to Manchester. Your manager had texted you to be in the car before 3, which meant you had just 10 minutes until you had to say goodbye to Mason for a while.
You were stood in the foyer of the hotel, waiting for the car to arrive. You'd secretly hoped it didn't, you wanted to stay with Mason for a while longer, but you couldn't. Duty called.
"Thank you for showing me around London," you spoke, looking up at Mason, who was hiding his deflated feelings, "I really enjoyed it, I might even prefer it to New York."
"That's a given. I'm here." He joked, in an obvious attempt to lighten the mood. These four days had been immense fun for him, different to how he usually spent his days. Different than night at home alone, different than a night on the town. Was it too soon to say he missed you?
Mason looked down at you as you clung to his side, hoping he felt the same way you did. And he did, you just didn’t know that. His fingers slid across your jaw slowly, pulling your chin up to look at him. It was an intense moment, so many different emotions. He’d leaned in and kissed you, it was his parting gift. To say that he’d see you soon enough.
��Enjoy Manchester, I’m sure I can fit another show in somehow.” Mason spoke, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too.” You spoke, the car pulling up outside. He’d dragged your suitcases out to the car, popping them in the boot for you. Finally, he stared at you through the window, which you quickly rolled down. “I fancy you, is that the right term?”
Mason laughed, head tipping back slightly. “Yeah, it is. And I fancy you too.”
#mase#money mase#mason mount one shot#mason mount request#mason mount x reader#mason mount smut#mason mount imagine#mason mount blurb#mason mount
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The Maid – Part One of Three
Featuring: Tommy Shelby x Virgin!Reader
Words: 5095
Warning: Smut
Summary: It was Sunday Evening and you working at a nightclub in London. This was your first job and today you were to meet an interesting man who would make you a job offer that you couldn’t refuse. When you took up the job with him, you got so much more than you bargained for.
Tag List:
@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @chrisevanshoeee @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @captivatedbycillianmurphy @fookingshelby @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall @elenavampire21 @hanster1998 @mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower
--------
Meeting a Stranger
‘Good Evening Sir, may I get you a drink?’ you asked as you looked up into his deep blue eyes.
‘Whiskey. Irish please’ the man said without looking at you as he lit himself a cigarette.
It was unusual for men in this establishment not to make eye contact. It was almost like he was disinterested in his surroundings.
When he lifted up his whiskey glass, you noticed his wedding band. Of course, he was married and here to cheat on his wife.
She probably no longer satisfied his needs. But what did you know? Being 19 years old and rather shy, you had never been with a man.
It wasn’t long until the mistress arrived at the bar which also was unusual. He must be a special guest if the mistress herself was taking the time to talk to him.
‘Mr Shelby, I apologise, but Laura is absent tonight. Clara might be of interest’ the mistress said.
‘Not Clara. Someone new’ he responded.
‘Of course. I will make arrangements’ the mistress said before excusing herself.
Just as the mistress had left, the man ordered a second glass of whiskey.
‘Your name is Shelby?’ you asked surprised as you served him. ‘Are you related to Thomas Shelby by any chance?’ you added.
Without a response, he finally looked up at you. His eyes widened and his facial expression changed, almost like he had seen a ghost.
‘Is everything alright?’ you asked as you didn’t receive a response to your question.
‘You remind me of someone I used to know’ he responded. ‘You just look like her’ he added.
‘So I’ve been told. It’s a shame I never got to meet her’ you said, knowing exactly that he was talking about your half sister Greta Jurossi.
Greta and her mother passed away of consumption before you were born. Your father became very upset by their passing and found comfort in your mother who he fathered two children with. You were the oldest.
Your half-sister Kitty Jurossi spoke about Thomas Shelby quite frequently as the love of Greta’s life. They had been together since they were 16 and you know that he left for France shortly after Greta passed at the age of 19.
Just as Tommy introduced himself to you and began asking you questions, the mistress returned and advised Tommy that arrangements had been made.
‘I changed my mind’ Tommy said. ‘Although, I would like Miss Jerossi to accompany me. I will cover her wages for the night’ Tommy said, causing your heart to skip a beat.
‘Mr Shelby, I am afraid to inform you that she has no experience. She is not one of our working girls. She is simply a barmaid. Although, if you insist and this is something you wish to explore further, we could perhaps come to some to an arrangement’ the mistress said.
You were speechless and felt like you were auctioned off to the highest bidder.
‘I am not intending to fuck her. I would simply like to continue our conversation, eh’ Tommy said sheepishly, catching the mistress by surprise.
‘This should be enough for her time and for you to put another barmaid on for the evening’ he added as he handed her 10 pounds.
‘Of course, Mr Shelby, thank you’ the mistress said before telling you to get your coat.
You grabbed your coat and met Tommy at the front of the club. Just as you arrived, he had lid himself a cigarette.
‘Common’ he said before you followed him to his car.
‘Where are we going?’ you asked. You were still slightly uncomfortable about the situation unfolding right in front of you.
‘A place I know’ he said as he drove off and, within ten minutes, you pulled up in front of a nightclub of a different kind. It was full of artists, a band was playing in the background and everyone enjoyed champaign and cocaine.
‘Common, have a seat’ Tommy said as he sat down with you in a somewhat private area.
He ordered you a drink and began to talk about Greta, his long-lost love. You were still unsure why you were there, with him. Whilst he asked you several questions about your life and your circumstances, it was mostly him who was doing the talking.
After several hours of talking, on the stroke of midnight, Tommy made you a proposal which was too good to refuse.
He offered you a job in Birmingham, as a maid. Apparently, his household was short-staffed and his wife needed more assistance. He was of the view that working in an up-market brothel as a barmaid was no job for a woman like you. Somehow, he didn’t know you, but he cared. He was concerned that, the longer you work there, the more likely it will become that you be asked to do more than just serve drinks.
His offer was kind and you accepted it with caveat that you had no experience as a maid.
He assured you that you will learn all you need to know on the job.
New Life
A week after your encounter with Thomas Shelby, your new life began.
You were introduced to the household and tried the best you could to settle in.
Most days, you were on your own with the other maids, Elizabeth Shelby, who was Tommy’s wife and Tommy’s two children.
Tommy’s wife Lizzie disliked you for obvious reasons. She insisted on older and experienced maids and it was evident to her why Tommy had hired you.
For a while you tried very hard to make Lizzie like you, but nothing took away the apprehension she had in respect of you.
Whilst you could understand her concerns, Tommy had never made any advances towards you. After all, you were much younger than him.
But, over the next few weeks, you learned why Lizzie was so apprehensive. Her marriage to Tommy was on the verge of breaking.
According to Sarah, one of the maids, Tommy and Lizzie were no longer sleeping in the same bedroom and she overheard Lizzie speaking to a solicitor in London to ascertain what her options were if she was to divorce him.
Sarah was of the view that there is no love between Tommy and Lizzie. There never has been.
Lizzie enjoyed the life and the money. Apparently, she used to be a working girl in Birmingham and this is how she met Tommy.
They used to sleep together, quite frequently, until one day she fell pregnant. When Tommy became a member of parliament, he married her. Clearly, he had to appear to be doing the right thing in a position like that.
Sarah herself had her eyes on Tommy and was the only other young maid who managed to stay. For some reason not apparent to you, Lizzie tolerated her. Perhaps she knew too much. After all, one of the reasons maids stayed at the Shelby household was because they were paid well, much better than in other households. Sarah was one of the few maids who had access to Thomas Shelby’s office and it was likely that she had to put a blind eye on the illegal activities Thomas Shelby engaged in.
Every Thursday Evening at 8 o’clock, Sarah would go to Tommy’s office and she would be there for an hour exactly. You timed it, right to the second, every week.
One week, you managed to quietly pass by the office on a Thursday evening at half past eight and you could hear them being intimate.
To your surprise, despite their weekly encounters, Tommy was cold towards her. He didn’t treat her differently to any of the other maids. It appeared to you that the sex they have was no more than another business transaction for Tommy.
Whilst Tommy wasn’t around much, when he was, he was different with you. He was kind and warm in his own way. You were the youngest maid in the household and even Francis said that you get away with mistakes that aren’t usually tolerated because Mr Shelby seems to have soft spot for you. Sometimes, he would even smile at you and you began to like him more than you should have liked a man his age. Sometimes, you even imagined what it would be like if it was you in Tommy’s office with him instead of Sarah.
To your surprise, after a month of you being at the Shelby house, Tommy started to call you into his office as well. You recalled the first time. It was a Tuesday evening, 8 o’clock and you were nervous.
Whilst you could imagine yourself sleeping with him, you had never been with a man before.
But, intimacy and sex was not what Tommy was after. He simply enjoyed your company and you would talk for hours, about horses, racing and politics.
Like a real gentleman, he kept his distance, offering you a drink and a cigarette while you talked and talking was all you ever did.
Sarah noticed reasonably quickly that your Tuesday night encounters with Tommy became a habit and once she even overheard you referring to him as Tommy as opposed to Mr Shelby.
Tommy insisted that you call him Tommy when you talked in private. It was not part of your work and he said that he felt old every time you called him ‘Mr Shelby’.
As another four weeks had passed, you could see the man within him who your step sister fell in love with and Kitty had spoken so highly about. He appeared to you every Tuesday evening at 8 o’clock, a different man.
Mistakes Happen
To Lizzie’s and Francis’s annoyance, you made many mistakes. Burnt toast was just one of them. But none of that bothered Tommy.
As it has happened, one day you even managed to break an incredibly expensive vase as you paid more attention to Tommy getting dressed through the crack of his bedroom door. It was a sheer accident which probably wouldn’t have happened if you paid more attention to what you were doing at the time rather than Tommy’s naked chest.
‘I am so sorry Mr Shelby, I didn’t mean to drop this’ you said, totally embarrassed and flustered as the vase dropped to the floor and, hearing the shatter, Tommy emerged from his bedroom.
‘It’s alright Y/N, seriously. It’s just a vase, eh’ Tommy said with a smile on his face as he bent over, helping you to collect the pieces.
‘Please Mr Shelby, I can do this’ you said with some embarrassment. Your cheeks were flushed by the sight of him, wearing nothing but his suit pants.
Tommy’s eyes gazed over to you as he picked up the pieces and it was clear to you that he noticed your flushed cheeks.
‘Tommy, what are you doing?’ Lizzie said as she observed him collecting pieces of broken porcelain with you from the floor.
‘What does it look like Lizzie?’ Tommy asked. It was clear to you that they were fighting, again. They always fought. Sometimes you wondered why they were married at all.
The constant arguing between Tommy and Lizzie was exhausting. It exhausted everyone, even the maids.
‘I’ve got it Mr Shelby, please’ you said as you put more pieces of the broken vase into a bucket.
‘See, she’s got it Tommy, now would you please see Arthur. He is downstairs yelling and Charles has started to pick up the swear words’ Lizzie said.
‘Alright Lizzie, fuck’ he said as he got up and left you to it. As you were cleaning up the last of the broken pieces, you overheard Lizzie talk to Ada about you.
‘I really don’t know why Thomas had to employ her instead of someone more experienced’ she said.
‘She looks exactly like Greta, his first ever love, that’s why Lizzie’ Ada responded.
‘Well then he should have left her at the whorehouse and visit her there’ Lizzie said frustrated before walking off.
Lizzie’s comment made you rather upset and you were beginning to feel even more uncomfortable at the house with every day that went by.
Lizzie had begun to notice Tommy’s favouritism towards you and it was clear to you that she did not want you around.
After another two weeks, you couldn’t bare it any longer and decided to resign. The tension between you and Lizzie had become too much to tolerate.
You handed your written resignation to Tommy at noon on a Monday and, just as he read it, he walked to his office door and closed it behind him.
‘Sit down Y/N, have a drink’ Tommy said, causing you to flush.
‘Common’ Tommy said as he poured yourself a glass of whiskey, neat, before sitting down on one of the arm chairs.
You sat down across from him as he handed you the glass of whiskey.
‘I cannot accept this’ he said as he took a sip from his glass.
‘Tommy, I cannot continue to work for you. I am not suited for this job and I am fairly sure that neither your wife nor Francis like me very much’ you explained.
‘That might be right but, in the end of the day, I make the decisions, eh’ Tommy said. ‘And I would like you to stay’ he added.
‘Why? You can easily find a better maid’ you laughed.
‘Because you are smart Y/N and I enjoy your company. Please’ Tommy said.
‘Alright, I will give it another month and then reconsider’ you said.
‘Good’ Tommy smiled. ‘I see you tomorrow at the usual time?’ he asked, causing you to nod with a smile.
It was difficult for you to deny Tommy especially since your attraction towards him was growing, becoming almost unhealthy in a way. Why would you feel like this around a man who was twice your age? You wanted him and stayed around in the hope that he would offer you more than employment.
And just like this, with Thomas Shelby in the back of your mind, you went on with your work.
It’s Fucking Tuesday
Tuesday evening approached quickly and you couldn’t wait to see Tommy.
At 8 o’clock, you sneaked into his office as usual, barefoot and without knocking so that no one would notice.
Little did you know that, that evening, you would reveal a lot more to Tommy than you had initially anticipated.
As such, after two glasses of whiskey and a couple of cigarettes, you spoke honestly about your political views. You too were in support of communism and felt as though Tommy had lost his way in his political campaigns for the Labour Party.
‘The good old cause, eh’ Tommy laughed after you outlined to him where the Labour Party went wrong in your opinion. ‘You know Y/N, you remind me of someone, someone who was just as idealistic and passionate about changing the world as you are’ he added.
‘I’ve been told that before, by my father. He used to get rather frustrated with us both’ you said.
‘Kitty said that you were idealistic and in favour of an armed revolution once yourself. But then she told me that all of this changed after the war. The same Tommy never came back from France. You had changed. But I am not sure if I am willing to believe that’ you added.
‘No one came back Y/N’ Tommy said. ‘The war changed everyone’ he added.
‘That is true but, I think that the Tommy she spoke so highly about many years ago is still in there somewhere. I’ve seen it. You are still a man with ideals and a man who cares, even if you don’t want to admit it. If you didn’t care, I wouldn’t be here’ you said as you walked over in front of where Tommy was sitting in order to fill up your glass of whisky.
For a moment, you placed your empty glass on to the desk besides him and kneeled down in front of him.
‘You are a good man, Tommy. A good man who does bad things sometimes where necessary and the world needs more men just like you’ you said before you leaned in and pressed your lips onto his.
Without the two glasses of whiskey, you would never have been able to build up the courage to do this, but there you were, kissing Thomas Shelby.
Tommy gave into the kiss for a moment, his lips dancing with yours but his hands not leaving his chair.
‘This is wrong Y/N’ Tommy said as your lips drifted apart.
‘Yes’ you said before pressing your lips back onto his for a short moment. ‘Yes, it is’ you added and, just in that moment, Tommy leaned forward caressing your face and returning the kiss.
This is what you wanted for so long, his lips on yours and your tongues exploring each other.
After about a minute, Tommy pulled away, looking into your dark eyes.
‘This is a bad idea Y/N’ Tommy said again, still cupping your face.
‘Well, then tell me that you don’t want me and I will leave right now’ you said.
‘I want you alright, but you are half my age’ Tommy said.
‘So what? You are Thomas Shelby, you can have whoever you want’ you said and, just like that, your hands reached for the buckle of his belt, undoing it slowly.
You could hear Tommy inhale deeply and knew exactly that he likes to be pleasured this way. You had never done any of this, but the working girls at the brothel spoke about it frequently. Sometimes, you saw them do it, in a quite corner of the club or the lavatories if the men liked to be watched.
‘Have you ever done this before?’ Tommy asked, looking down at you, his hand tangled in your hair. He could tell that you were nervous and completely out of your comfort zone.
You shook your head shyly and, as much as Tommy wanted to feel your mouth on his cock, he wanted you to feel entirely comfortable with what you were doing.
‘Come up’ he said, taking your hands and guiding you up towards him before pressing his lips onto yours for a passionate kiss.
‘You don’t want me to?’ you asked as you broke the kiss and Tommy buckled up his belt.
‘Trust me, I want you to’ Tommy smirked, cupping your face again.
‘But not like this’ Tommy said before giving you another kiss.
Just after your lips drifted apart, your eyes wandered downwards where could see Tommy’s erection pushing against his pants. He clearly was ready and you wondered why he stopped you.
‘Tomorrow, after 10 o’clock, in your room. If you want me to come, you leave your bedside lamp on. I will see the light through the bottom of the door. If you don’t want me to come then turn it off and I won’t, alright?’ Tommy said.
Tommy wanted you to be sure about this. Not influenced by whiskey and not in the heat of the moment.
You agreed to his suggestion and, after a few more kisses, you left his office.
A Night to Remember
The next evening, after you finished work for the day and had dinner, you made your way to your room. You had a bath, washed your hair and got dressed in some lingerie.
The fire was lid and, just as instructed, you left on the bedside lamp. It was only 9 o’clock and you had to wait another hour before Tommy would meet you. You tried to kill the time by reading a book, but you couldn’t think about anything but Tommy and what was about to happen.
You wondered what it would be like to be with a man, especially a man like him. He was clearly experienced. Nonetheless, you were worried that it would be painful.
Five minutes to ten, you put the book that you weren’t really reading aside and put on some perfume. You wanted to smell nice for him.
You positioned yourself on the bed, seductively. Your black lace underwear was highlighted by the light of the bedside lamp. Your hair was open, your curls running over your shoulders. Your porcelain pale skinned was complimented by the dark red lipstick you had borrowed from one of the maids.
Waiting impatiently, just as the clock stroke ten, you could hear the door opening.
‘You look beautiful’ Tommy smirked.
‘Just for you’ you said shyly, taking in a deep breath as Tommy walked over towards you.
He was wearing nothing but underpants and you couldn’t help but stare at his perfect body.
It wasn’t long until he climbed onto the bed with you and his lips met yours for a passionate kiss.
The kiss was urgent and his lips tasted like sweet whiskey. He took his time, his hands roaming over your body while his tongue was dancing with yours.
It wasn’t long until he found the clip of your bra and he opened it with ease.
‘If I would have known that it would come off so quickly, I wouldn’t have spent half my weekly wage on it’ you giggled.
‘Just an unnecessary piece of fabric’ Tommy chuckled as his fingers began to trace the lines of your body, curving around your now naked breasts, stroking and teasing your nipples.
His lips soon moved from your mouth down to your neck and then all the way to your breasts.
‘Mmhm’ you moaned as he began to bite your nipples gently while his hands roamed downwards to your stomach and then your lace panties.
Tommy hooked his thumbs in your panties and slowly drew them down your legs, leaving you totally exposed.
While kissing over your breasts gently, one of his hands moved directly in between your legs and his index finger traced through your wet slit, dipping into slightly.
You inhaled sharply and tensed up suddenly and unintentionally. Tommy could feel your body become stiff and your legs closing around his hand.
‘Do you want me to stop?’ Tommy asked as he moved upwards slightly, worried that this was too much too soon for you.
‘No Tommy, I want you’ you said desperately before pressing your lips back onto his.
‘Please’ you then said again as your lips drifted apart.
‘Alright. I will take it slow and you will tell me if I hurt you or if you want me to stop. Agreed?’ he said, causing you to nod.
And just like that, his lips met your again before he started to trail kisses down your body.
Just as he reached your stomach, he stopped and lowered himself further, right in between your legs.
Tommy hooked one of your calves around his shoulder and then started kissing up your ankle, your calf, your knee.
You had no idea what he was doing until he got closer and closer to your already soaking wet mound.
‘Tommy, what are you doing?’ you asked nervously. His face was so close to your most intimate parts that you flushed from embarrassment.
‘You’ll see’ he smirked just before, all of a sudden, he dipped his tongue to meet your sex.
‘Oh god’ you cried out, partly from pleasure and partly from the exhilaration of a sensation entirely foreign to your body.
He drew lazy circles around your clit, making your legs twitch of their own volition. Your hand nestled in Tommy’s hair, stroking it as you moaned.
Tommy adapted quickly, gauging your moans and learning your sweet spots.
While his tongue circled over your client, he carefully and slowly pushed a finger into you.
You tensed, but relaxed quickly as you couldn’t feel any pain.
He began to thrust it in and out in time with the rhythm of his tongue.
You felt dizzy, quivering with anticipation as heat pooled deep in your belly.
You whimpered, whispering "please" over and over again as you felt yourself on the verge of exploding. No orgasm you had ever given yourself had been like this—it felt electric.
Tommy could soon feel your walls tightening around his finger and increased the speed of his thrusts.
You clapped a hand over your mouth and screamed as you came, your back arching, legs shaking, hips grinding against him. Even after you were past your highest peak, you felt the energy tingling, jolting through you, inspiring little sighs.
When you opened your eyes, you saw him grin, wiping your nectar from his face with the back of his hand.
‘I think you are ready now eh’ he smirked before taking off his underpants.
He was large, larger than you had imagined.
You took in a deep breath, knowing exactly what was to come next.
Tommy could see the nervousness and concern on your face.
‘Don’t worry, I will go slow and we can stop at any time, alright’ he said as he positioned himself in between your legs.
‘Tommy, are you sure it will fit, I mean…’ you said nervously and, before you could finish your sentence, Tommy interrupted you with a mild chuckle.
‘It will fit Love’ he said before his lips met yours again for passionate kiss.
As he was kissing you gently, he positioned his cock at your entrance and began to press just the head into you.
It felt warm and moist.
Tommy’s normally-cool countenance was wide-eyed and intense as he began pushing into you.
Your breath hissed out in tandem as he began to stretch you open and you couldn’t help it but hold onto his upper arms tightly.
Pushing into you inch by inch, you groaned when he finally met the resistance of your hymen.
‘Tommy, please’ you moaned as you squeezed your eyes shut and braced yourself for what was coming.
Tommy leaned forward, slowly pushing through the resistance.
You both struggled to contain your yelps of pain and pleasure as he tore through you.
Your eyes welled up with tears as your recovered from the white-hot sharpness, but before long it was replaced by a feeling of blissful fullness. You fluttered open my eyes and gave him a lazy smile.
‘Are you alright?’ he asked, holding still, allowing you to adjust to his size. His voice was throaty and intense.
‘Yes’. I feel so... fucking... full’ you giggled and, just like that, he began to push deeper, then rocked his hips back out.
He thrusted in a slow, deliberate rhythm, working his cock into you inch by inch.
Every new thrust stretched you out beyond what you thought you could handle.
He looked down in a moment of surprise as your hips began to grind against him, trying to work his cock in and out of you. He chuckled, re-positioning himself for leverage, and began to fuck you.
He began with slower, shallower strokes, finding his rhythm and stretching you out. You could tell that he wanted to go faster, but your walls were gripping too tight for him to pound you just yet without hurting you.
You could see the hunger in Tommy’s features, feel it as his hand tangled in your hair and gave it a sharp tug.
The tug distracted you and gave him the opportunity he needed to thrust hard and deep into you.
You cried out, and the lingering pain in your body was suddenly replaced by explosive pleasure. You threw your arms around his neck and he drew his hips back before pounding you with another powerful thrust, and another, and another.
The sensations—the sound of your bodies slapping together, the smell of sex, the feeling of his body pounding into you—collided suddenly in a violent eruption, and you couldn't contain your cries of pleasure as you came for the second time.
Your pleasure and the feel of your walls spasming around him sent Tommy into overdrive.
He pounded you harder and harder, before tensing and releasing his seed inside you with a shuddering roar.
You both gasped for breath, covered in sweat, hearts racing from the heat of your encounter. His lips met yours in a deep kiss, and you tasted yourself again on his tongue.
‘You are so fucking beautiful’ Tommy said in between kisses before he finally pulled out of you, causing some of his cum mixed with some of your mildly blood-stained juices leak on the sheet.
‘Will you stay with me for the night?’ you asked as you pressed your cheek onto Tommy’s warm chest.
‘You know I can’t’ Tommy said as he ran his hand through your hair. ‘But I’ll stay until you fall asleep eh’ he added before pressing his lips onto to yours yet again.
And so he did, he stayed with you until you drifted off to sleep.
The Aftermath
The next morning, you woke up early. Somewhat sore but full of energy.
Tommy didn’t have to tell you that, what happened last night, had to remain a secret.
Nonetheless, you hoped that you would have an encounter like this with him again soon.
To your surprise, when you got dressed, you noticed the stains on the white sheets.
You pulled them off quickly and decided to get them into the wash before the other maids had to use the laundry facilities.
As you walked into the laundry room with your sheets, you saw Sarah.
‘You are up early?’ you asked surprised.
‘Charles was sick last night and I have to clean his sheets. I think he doesn’t tolerate cows’ milk to be honest’ she said.
‘What about you?’ she asked.
‘Washing my sheets before it gets too busy’ you said shyly.
‘Didn’t you just wash your sheets?’ Sarah asked, taking them off your hands.
‘Sarah, please, let me’ you said. ‘It’s this time of the month’ you said nervously, lying of course, but trying to justify the somewhat small but obvious stains on your sheets.
‘Don’t worry, if I can clean up vomit, I can clean up anything. Despite, you don’t know how to use the new machine’ Sarah chuckled.
With reluctance and embarrassment, you agreed but, just as Sarah placed the stained sheets into the basin, she noticed a familiar scent. Tommy’s aftershave.
‘You know Y/N, you might want to see a doctor’ she said.
‘Why is that?’ you asked.
‘You said that it’s the time of the month for you. You had your menses ten days ago. That’s not normal don’t you think? Unless there is something else you have to hide Y/N?’ Sarah said sharply.
#Tommy Shelby#tommy shelby smut#tommy shelby x reader#tommy shelby imagine#thomas shelby#thomas shelby smut#thomas shelby x reader#thomas shelby imagine#Peaky Blinders#peaky blinder imagine#peaky blinders imagine#peaky blinders fanfic#thomas shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x y/n#tommy shelby x you#peaky blinders smut#smut
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We all know how looks can be deceiving right? I’d love to request head cannons of Kuroo, Bokuto, Iwaizumi, Konoha, Terushima, and Atsumu with a gf that’s gifted with that super-soaker, wet-wet pussy, a pro at riding that dick, and has the gwak gwak thotty throat slobber 9000 but she is so shy, cute, and innocent at first glance. She looks like the soft-spoken librarian but when they get down and dirty, she puts her body to work and these bois just don’t know how to act from how amazing she is. Let’s say they teased her too much, so she revoked their sex privileges for a few days (not knowing how addicted these guys are on her body). Desperate bois are best bois 😈
:o
i’m shell shocked anon, you’ve blown my mind
Cw: hair pulling, super WAP, kinda fem dom but not really, severe pussy-whipped men
Kuroo
firstly, he thought you were the innocent type up until you sucked him off for the first time
Honestly, he thought you were a total virgin prude
It wasn't really his fault, you two had met as lab partners for an AP chemistry class
You know, a class full of nerds and people he just assumed would get a job and married when they were thirty
Looking back he should have caught on after seeing you unconsciously jerking of a test tube
But, contrary to popular belief, kuroo is not the social cue master
After a few months of dating, you guys were just a horny time-bomb
Ahh~ the first blow-job, one for the books
He should have known it was going to be good just from the way you were unzipping his jeans, was it normal to almost cum just for your girlfriend palming you?
When you did get his dick out and had it all the way down your throat within the minute, he really did think you were a godsend
He didn't even know what you were doing with his balls, but whatever it was it was working
You didn’t gag or cough, even when he grabbed that back of your head and practically face-fucking you
(the real kicker was when you licked your lips after he came and gave him that small fucking smirk, mans was done for and he knew it)
Even with all that, nothing, and I mean nothing compares to the first time you guys went at it
when I say that you guy made out for five minutes when he went under your panties and felt the pacific ocean in your panties
He was about to propose right there (and about to cum in his pants for the thousandth time)
He didn't need to but he still rubbed a few circles around your clit, but apparently, you were ready enough
Considering you grabbed his dick and fully sunk onto him in one motion
Poor baby didn't know what hit him
You had to have done this before, and if he hadn't met you in class he would have been sure you slept around and learned everything in the book
You would clench every time your sims met and- AND THAT THINGS WITH HIS BALLS AGAIN
His mind was bungled, especially after you had both come and you fell onto his chest going back to the shy and sweet version he knew you as.
What the hell was that????
Was he fucking you or were you fucking him?? Because at this point he didn't even care
After that experience, you fucked like bunnies, all the time, even in school more than a few times.
And we all know kuroo can't shut his mouth
And he always teases you about how cute and mouse like you are outside the bedroom and how it's like he’s dating two different girls
....that hit a nerve...
Two different girls??? Well he’ll just have to endure one girl until he realizes what a blessing you are
5 days, 120 hours, 7,200 minutes, and 432,000 seconds, that's how long he lasted
He was going insane, and so he explained that he didn't mean it in a bad way and that he loved how you acted
Forgiving him you rewarded the poor cat boy, 5 rounds for five days
(he didn't want to admit it but he’s pretty sure his dick would have fallen off if you didn't relent when you did)
(he just didn't want to admit that he was pussy-whipped)
Bokuto
You actually had met at a library
One of his teachers wanted him to get a bit of extra tutoring and volunteered you for the job.
You had hit it off great! Personality-wise
(you’ll never tell him but it was frustrating that he clearly didn't understand anything you were telling him)
And you were so sweet and cute, and such a good teacher
He would know that if he wasn't too busy just staring at you and thinking about you and thinking about what you like and what you wear outside of school
(or how good your lips look, or how your thighs look so soft, or that when you get up he can see under your skirt.)
Your guy’s first time was an experience
(bokuto is the cunny easting master, don't call me out)
More cunny juice = more food for owl man
He was excited, somewhere in his mind he knew that it was gonna get better from then on
He wasn't wrong either, although he didn't let your mouth near his dick just yet, he knew that would be good considering the ‘art’ you've created on his neck
The true fuckary started with him on top, but the second he was in you he...froze
Poor baby was shell shocked, you felt better than he had thought, and he just slumped over, you thought he came but he wasn’t ready for it to end so soon
He just sat there for a few minutes, fucked out, before you just decided to flip you both over
That was more his speed at the moment
So he grabbed onto your hips for dear life and you got working
Within two minutes the two of you had created a pool of juices on his bed (bokuto had a lot of precum ok), not that he really cared
You were not competing with anyone but he already had you 2 to 0
(point 1 for the meal and point 2 for being an Olympic dick-rider)
I am also a firm believer that bokuto thrusts up, he just can't help it
You are too addictive, or the way you ground onto him in between every bounce was addictive
I also don't believe that you could even truly deny bokuto sex, he was good at guilt-tripping and he was soooooo adorable
(not to mention the puppy dog eyes he does that could convince good to do his will)
So I’m sure the only way he wouldn't get sex would be no nut November.
(aka the devil's month of torture, actually not month, week give or take)
This year it just happens that he set a new record, 8 days
He went a whole 8 days without trying for sex
Truly he went about 10 days before he stopped begging and just took matters into his own hands
(under enough pressure Bokuto become a hard dom and no one can say otherwise)
The entire time he was telling you how pretty you were and how well your pussy takes him and that you had no ‘right’ to tell him he couldn’t have sex
He even gained a new phrase “this pussy belongs to me”
You were going to have to set some things straight once he was done ;)
Iwaizumi
You were on the student council, it felt sacrilegious to think anything but pure thoughts about anyone on the council
(that didn't really stop him)
honestly, from the moment his crush festered he wanted to ruin your little innocent vibe
You always smiled so sweetly at everyone, and just seemed like a true goody two shoes.
And that point seemed to have been correct when you began to date
Until! The fateful day where his perceived innocent girlfriend pulled a full 180 on him!
Firstly, you had offered, out of the blue, to suck him off in the middle of the movie you were watching.
Second, he asked if you knew how, and you giggled at him with that smile he loved so much
Thirdly, when you did get his dick out, you swirled some of the pre-cum on his tip with your thumb, he started getting a bit suspicious
Lastly, you completely swallowed him down, face pressing on his hip, cheeks hollowed.
That’s when he realized that you did know what you were doing
(that also arouse the thought that you had been with someone else, which was counteracted with the fact that you knew how to suck dick by practicing on hair brushed and popsicles)
((it also helped that you barely had a gag reflex))
Truly trying to put that to the test, dom iwa came right out, grabbing your hair and telling you to suck harder
And you impressed the man, to say the least
After that he had to fuck you, he really just had too
For the first time, he went with a solid missionary, just to test that waters
He didn’t think anyone's pussy should feel like that, but since you were his it was ok
All was well he was lost in the feeling of your pussy and the deciding moment was when you pulled him against you and started to grind your body onto his
You were putting a whole lot of body into it too, and you were so soft, and unless he wanted to cum early something was going to have to change
So he flipped and changed to doggy style, which made thighs worse???
From there you got tighter and he could see all of the wetness drips from your fold onto the sheets
Yup, you were the one for him
(solidified when he pulled your hair and you moaned like a street whore)
As for the no sex thing, that was a ride
It started when Makki asked you if you were always dripping for iwa
And after a week of no sex, he confessed to letting them on his phone and watching a recording of one of your nightly escapades and he was sorry
(and he just wanted to show them what they were missing, y’know brag a bit)
That was, and he says the only time, he let you try to dom him
You truly were the most amazing woman in the world
Konoha
( i made him kind of an ass lol sorry)
You wee the girl who sat next to him in class
(not to be mean, but he thought you were a nerd)
You always had your uniform covering everything and you were always playing with your short sleeves
You raised your hand a lot in class, always had a pencil to borrow
He just assumed that you had cobwebs in your pussy
Proven wrong at one of the volleyball teams parties, you had apparently been dragged there by a friend (surprising)
And you both were dragged onto some weird spin the bottle game
The bottle would spring and someone would draw an action from this jar and the two people would have to do it in a bedroom in the house
Seeing as that’’s how fate goes you and him were chosen
A blow-job card was chosen
And he laughed with a friend about how you wouldn’t know what to do
Mistake, that struck a real nerve, was this guy for real?
Oh hell no
Being the baddie you were, you walked to him, grabbed him by the arm, and locked lips, breaking away after a moment you asked if he was ready to go.
Poor boy didn't even respond, he just nodded and stood up
Two minutes in, he knew what he had done
You were blowing him like it would be your last time, it should be illegal to be able to suck someone off that well
And damn you pulled away right before he was going to cum.
And then just left him! Walked out of the closet like nothing had ever happened
That couldn’t be it, he wouldn't let that be it
After two weeks of non-stop begging from the guy you agreed to a date, which led to many dates
Which led to him finally being able to fuck you
God damn, he didn't think it would get better, and it did, it really did.
You were laying on top of him and grinding your entire body onto him
Dripping all over him and squeezing him like crazy
He was never going to let you go
Now, that same friend from that party seemed very intrigued with your relationship
And he just can't help but tell him about how amazing you were, it just sucks that he did it right in front of you in the middle of lunch
Pussy pass revoked
He didn't think he did anything wrong so he went two whole weeks without any touch and he went crazy
He fell apart and apologized
After he begged enough you gave him the pussy pass back
And now he doesn't do anything to jeopardize it
Terushima
this is gonna sound weird
But
I feel like terushima knows when someone is a good lay
It's like a secret talent of his, he just knows and his radar went off when he saw you
But he thought it was wrong at first considering you were wearing leggings and a huge sweater
Not good fuck material
But he had to make sure, so he just walked up to you and asked if you were a good fuck
Surprisingly you didn’t punch him in the nuts, instead, you laughed at him and said that he would just have to find out
And that he should at least take you out to dinner first
Adm he took you up it, made it the best damn dinner date he’d ever be on
And you reward him
With what?
The best damn blow-job he’d ever get as long as he lived.
And it fit that to the T
It started with the little licks and swirls, then, you gotta catch the man off guard, and just take his entire dick in your throat
And with that, he was sure he had superpowers
When He came, fairly quick for his taste, you swallowed all of his cum and he was ready to marry you
If he needed to take you on a date for that, he would take you on a date every day for the rest of his life
(not every day) but that's what he did
But eventually, just a blowjob wasn't enough, oh no he knew you had a tight hole
And he knew you were gushing most of the time (ushy gushy my pussy-)
If making him suck the fingers you used to fuck yourself after he came was anything
And you tasted good, really good
He was so ready for it that he let you ride him the whole night
He thought his dick was a]going to fall off, you were just that damn good
It was insane, you were almost using him as a dildo, grinding your clit on the base of his cock
And you looked glorious, he was going to have to talk to you about recording it so he could watch it over and over
Maybe show a few people-
And that's what he did, poor unfortunate soul got the silent treatment for two days before he fell apart
He literally got on his knees and asked for forgiveness
(biggest simp on the planet, but only for you (and your dripping cunt))
He’s sure to never do it again, he’s also sure that if you asked him to step on him he would let you
(and I think he’s the most pussy-whipped)
Ok maybe you didn't fully forgive him until he showed you what his tongue piercing could do, but it was worth every moment.
Atsumu
Honestly, he was dared to sleep with the next girl who walked through the cafeteria door
And that just happens to bring you, miss. I remind the teacher there was homework
(Well he actually wasn’t really sure about that but that's what you looked like and he was already regretting his decision.)
In defense of him, your hair was in a messy bun and you had this teacher's pet aura around you
But he would be damned if he lost this bet to his brother and Suna, oh no
The moment he wa[lked up to your table you knew what was happening, and shut it down immediately
After that, you officially had his attention!
Lucky you!
Unlucky you for the fact that all he wanted to do was get in your pants.
But lucky you again because you could hold this over his head!
But one day you just woke up and chose dick (respectable)
So when atsumu did his daily “c'mon baby, you know you want some” you just stood up, scaring him
(he finally thought you were gonna kill him)
Instead, you grabbed him by the dick, literally grabbed his dick through his pants, and tugged him all the way to the roof
“Hey-hey baby, no need to be that rough”
“Shut up, Miya. pants down, now”
That was not where he thought that was going but he isn't going to complain.
“You want your dick wet so bad? Here you go!”
Honestly, he could die happy.
Not so sound gross, but you were slobbering around his cock like a pro. Now that left the thought, you had to have done this before.
You had hands on the back of his thighs pushing him further down your throat, hollowed cheeks, damn he should’ve done this was sooner
He was gonna cum-
And your mouth was gone, your hand was jerking him but that wasn't nearly as nice
“Lay back.”
Yes, yes he will do that. If what’s about to happen is what he thinks is about to happen
And now your pussy was above his face. Ok a little detour but he’ll take it
You were literally dripping onto his face while he got to work, and you went back to sucking him off
Yup, heaven.
After you both came he made sure to tell you that that had to happen again.
And it did, you rode him to hell in the hole to heaven, and he couldn't help himself from telling the entire volleyball team about how good you were
Now he really didn't think about what would happen if the news got back to you
But he definitely didn't think that meant a whole week of nothing
Well nothing for him, you made sure to send him more than a few videos of rigid dildos and fingering yourself
A week of torture, but when it was finally over he had an entirely new folder of spanking material
he was sure about who he told about your escapades, as in he told himself and Osamu if he just wanted to vent
poor guy was paranoid now
#kurro x reader#kuroo smut#kuroo x reader smut#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou x reader smut#bokuto x reader#bokuto smut#bokuto x reader smut#bokuto koutarou x reader smut#bokuto koutarou x reader#iwaizumi x reader#iwazumi x reader#iwaizumi smut#iwaizumi x reader smut#iwaizumi haijime x reader#iwaizumi haijime x reader smut#konoha x reader#konoha smut#konoha x reader smut#atsumu x reader#atsumu smut#atsumu miya x reader#atsumu miya x reader smut#haikyuu smut#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x reader smut#terushima x reader#terushima x reader smut#terushima smut#terushima yuji x reader
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The Demon Bros Play DND!
Who’s ready for some Stupid Headcanons?
So, the Satanic Panic of the 1980s claimed that the tabletop RPG known as Dungeons and Dragons had the power to turn your children into satanists and devil worshippers. So of course, the brothers have totally played DND after hearing about all the human world nonsense.
Lucifer the Back-up Back-up DM
He’s too busy to play this game dammit, stop inviting him! What do you mean both Satan and Simeon can’t DM the one-shot? Ugh... fine.
Despite all his UUUUUUUUGGGGHHH, Lucifer is a damn good storyteller, prepare to be immersed as hell.
Also, sorry guys, he’s a rule whore. If something’s against the rules, YOU AREN’T DOING IT.
He’s also a complete sadist who will randomly get everyone to roll perception checks for NO REASON.
Lucifer has definitely stood up and slammed his hands on the table while giving a description for extra effect, Mammon screamed and nearly fell out of his seat which REALLY ruined the mood.
“Everyone, we’re rescheduling, I’m too busy.”
He’s been a player a few times, and he’s NOT good at it. All his characters end up being really generic and boring. He’s better at being the world and everything in it, not the dummy wandering around it.
Human/fighter lookin’ motherfucker
In conclusion, he’s a good DM, but he’s probably too busy to play.
Over-Powered Self Insert (Mammon)
This game is for nerds! He’s not playin’, Levi!
Fine, his character is great and amazin’ and is also him. MC! What do these numbers mean-
Mammon’s the type of player to make his character a self insert and not take it too seriously, then get really REALLY attached as the campaign progresses.
He’s the type not to make a backstory for his character either, so go wild DM MCs!
He also both purposefully and accidentally metagames a whole bunch. Like dude, YOU know this, YOUR CHARACTER DOES NOT.
Shit he forgot his dice, can he borrow some?
“Okay MC, that’s five points of piercing damage.” “I RUN OVER AND HEAL THEM! I’LL SAVE YA MC!”
Mammon goes out of his way to save MC’s character long before it would make sense in-character to do so.
“Well, as your first man it’s my duty to save your character! You’ll probably be a blubberin’ mess if I didn’t...”
He’s not the best role player, but he’s also not the worst at it either. He tends to break character when things get too serious and he doesn’t know what to do.
Notes who? He came in here with one sheet of printer paper and it’s for doodling only.
He and Asmodeus start the tavern brawls. No question about that.
Theft is very common, he’s stealing from everyone, including but not limited to: the party, the royal guards, the dead enemies, the giant fuck-you dragon that Satan dropped in there to deter Mammon from stealing...
“I’m gonna steal that crown from the dragon.” “Roll stealth.” “Nat 20 BITCHES.” “Fuck you.”
If his character dies, may the Demon King have mercy on his greedy little soul because he’s going to mope about it for a damn long time.
Over-Powered Self Insert Again (Leviathan)
His character totally isn’t a self insert, shut up! He just looks and acts like an idealized version of himself!
He’s the one with twenty pages of character info and backstory AND the amazing commissioned art.
Levi has about 40 sets of expensive blue dice that he claims gives him the best rolls but an average session with him usually leads to roughly 10 crit fails.
While his luck with dice isn’t that good, he’s the player who will get as much out of their turn as possible, AKA break out the calculators and notes we’re doing some math.
His turn goes on for at least ten minutes because of all the shit he’s doing. When you finally think it’s over he goes “I still have my movement!”
Takes notes like a madman, every bit of lore and character info is being written down, meaning it’s a headache for everyone involved if there’s a continuity error because Levi WILL point it out.
“So you all head to the east, the great Valley of-” “Hang on, valley? In the second session you said there was a mountainous area to the east.” “Levi, shut up.”
Levi is the self appointed “guys come on let’s get back on track!” player, and whoever’s DMing is grateful to have him.
Levi is kind of the opposite of Mammon in terms of character seriousness, at first he’s taking everything super seriously and then as the campaign goes on he slowly loosens up and has some fun.
Out of curiosity one day he searches up a magical girl DND class and he’s ALL OVER IT. PLEASE LET HIM BE A MAGICAL GIRL NEXT CAMPAIGN-
Damn good at roleplaying, he’s carrying the entire in-character discussion until everyone else gets into it.
The Done With Your Bullshit DM (Satan)
So, this is the game that’s supposedly summoning him all the time despite the fact that he hadn’t been up to the human world since the 50s... what the fuck is everyone on up there?
It was the 80s, probably a lot of drugs.
When Satan DMs, you can only break the rules if it enhances the story... or if it fucks with Lucifer’s really boring character.
He will fudge dice rolls every once and a while, he also gets very attached to the characters everyone has made so he doesn’t want to perma-kill any of them unless they roll a DND quadruple natural 1 sin or something.
As attached as he gets, he isn’t above completely raging, killing everyone’s characters, and ending the session if everyone’s being annoying.
Don’t worry, your characters will be safe and sound next session once everything calms down... just don’t mention how Satan burned your character sheet right in front of you. It’s your fault if you didn’t make a second copy of your character sheet!
He’s pretty decent when it comes to improv when a player stumbles into something he didn’t plan out, but that’s not going to stop him from getting a little annoyed.
Though, if you somehow manage to get to the big bad too soon... yeah sorry, he’s got a way more dramatic fight scene planned, your player’s getting conveniently blasted out of there.
As a player, Satan is pretty decent at the game overall, but he tends to be a little aggressive if there’s an overarching mystery to be solved.
He needs to understand what’s going on! He doesn’t care if it upends the plot or it’s too early to find out! He needs to know!
His character is actually distinct and different from himself, Satan thinks it’s more interesting that way. All the books he’s read have made him a pretty awesome role player!
Satan’s notebook both as a DM and a player is filled to the brim, no detail is too insignificant to be put on the page.
Satan doesn’t fear dungeon puzzles... dungeon puzzles fear Satan.
“Are you all stupid?! This puzzle is so easy a four year old could solve it!”
I ROLL TO SEDUCE- (Asmodeus)
At first he didn’t want to play, he doesn’t play these kinds of games, sweetie. He’s too pretty.
When he’s finally convinced he puts a decent amount of effort into his character, but leaves the backstory pretty open.
Asmo would probably be the bard... right? No. He’s the warlock with the magic sugar daddy patron, and the warlock patron is spoken to as such.
“Hey baby... how’ve you been? Have I been good~?” “...”
Huh! Who woulda thought that all the bedroom roleplaying would transfer so well to DND!
Simeon is the only DM that doesn’t immediately shut this down, so Asmo will be extra inclined to play if Mr. Nice Shoulders is DMing.
When he gets really into it he buys a bunch of sparkly and very pretty dice, they bring him good luck in every roll!
Asmo has a fictional harem, no question about it. It gets to the point where Satan, Lucifer, and Simeon stop describing NPCs as attractive.
He’s rolling to seduce either way, he’s turned many an antagonist into a lover. To be fair, Asmo’s horniness has gotten everyone out of a lot of jail cells... so they can’t complain.
His notes consist of really random comments about the plot and the other players. It’s also COATED with doodles.
‘Wow, this character is such an asshole, I hope Belphie kills them.’ ‘Shit.’ ‘MC looks so cute when they play their character!!!!!!!! :D’
Poor bab forgets the rules a lot... it’s just too much to remember, okay?! How was he supposed to know that he ran out of spell slots an hour ago?!
Please help him, MC...
*Dice Cronch* (Beel)
Homeboy has been given edible dice, no question. He has also eaten the non-edible dice...
Beel goes to Satan for help with making his character, and he ends up really loving the character! :D
Problem is, he’s not that good at roleplaying... D:
“Can my character eat that person?” “Beel, no- you know what? Let me check what you’d need to roll to do that.”
I’ll save you MC part 2 electric boogaloo, but when it comes to Beel, the entire party is getting protected, no matter how little it makes sense in-character.
While Beel does take notes, a lot of them don’t end up being very important for later events. For example, he’ll jot down stuff about the layout in one room, but it turns out he didn’t take notes for the room that was actually going to be used for a boss fight.
He’s always nice to the NPCs, shame Belphie doesn’t show them the same courtesy.
Murder Hobo (Belphie)
Chaotic evil.
“Belphie, your character’s alignment is neutral good, remember?” “Fuck that, this guy’s annoying me.”
If Belphie doesn’t like an NPC, it’s up to the rest of the party to stop him from derailing the campaign and killing them.
He has space themed dice because cow-man likes space and thought they were pretty.
Notes? NOTES? You think Belphegor, the Avatar of SLOTH, takes notes? HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-
He’s drooling all over the notebook... ew. Someone wake him up and tell him it’s his turn.
He puts about 35% effort forth to make a halfway decent character, and approximately 4% effort to actually roleplay.
Belphie sleeps through important plot details so he’s almost always really confused. He’ll turn to MC and ask them to explain what he missed before not learning his lesson and going back to sleep.
Wake him up for the dungeon puzzles though, he and Satan love those.
“Okay, we can’t see what’s in the room because none of the conscious party members have dark vision?” “Nope, what do you do?” “...I shove Mammon inside and shut the door.” “WHAT?!”
Bonus! The Best DM (Simeon)
Our favourite angel has homebrewed this entire campaign and boy fricken howdy are these players going to enjoy it.
Simeon fudges the dice rolls to avoid anything too irreversibly bad happening, buuuuuuut he’s still a total asshole who does the random perception rolls to keep everyone on their toes.
Everyone gets a character arc god dammit, even if they don’t have a backstory, one will be provided!
He’s got a map, he’s got miniatures, he’s got dice and backup dice for the backup dice, he’s got DM notes for days!
Simeon could be a voice actor with the amount of character voices he can do, no one ever gets confused with who’s talking.
Did someone just uncover a massive bit of plot that was meant to be found out later? Good job! No harm done! Simeon’s DM improv is second to none, and the plot will adjust accordingly!
#Obey me#Obey me!#Obey me Headcanons#obey me! headcanons#Obey me Lucifer#Obey me Mammon#Obey me Simeon#Obey me Leviathan#obey me beelzebub#Obey me Belphegor#Obey me Satan#Obey me Asmodeus#Obey me MC#obey me shall we date#obey me! shall we date?
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Cam girl (George Weasley x reader)
Warnings: Smut and swearing
Summary: George logs onto his computer every week at the same time to watch his favourite cam girl because she reminds him of a girl he used to have a crush on at Hogwarts. One day he decides to pay to private message her and she responds.
George logs onto his computer at 10pm, the same time every Monday, Tuesday and Friday. Today’s Friday, the last day of the week until he has to wait until Monday. For the past month George has been watching a cam girl, she goes by Honey but that’s not her name. The thing that excites George about it all is that she’s anonymous, no one knows what she looks like under the mask.
You setup your computer so the webcam can get everything, you find all the toys you want to use and line them up. You put on your mask and watch the time as it hits 10pm and press stream. The viewers get transferred to your livestream. People assume everyone there is old men but you’ve seen pictures in private messages and some of them are quite good looking. Your job isn’t all sex, for the first 10 minutes you have conversations with the viewers and sometimes people just want to private message you to have some company.
George has never typed anything in the chat before because he’s too nervous too, he doesn’t know what to say. He watches you as you sit on the bed and answer comments from the live chat. He originally clicked on your stream because you reminded him of a girl he used to have a crush on at Hogwarts. She was in Hufflepuff and he had said only a few words to her but he knew so much about her.
You stop answering questions when you check the time and get ready. You ease into it by touching yourself over your lingerie. George tries to stop himself from touching himself so early in the show but the way you moan and mutter dirty things makes his mind go insane. You start to strip first revealing your breasts and you see the chat comments speed up as more new comments roll in and more viewers tune in. You get an average of 5-25k views, it all depends on the day.
You strip until you’re fully naked and lay down spreading your legs out. You use your fingers to spread your pussy open and tease your clit. George starts to palm himself through his pants. You get out a pink dildo, the men prefer 6-8 inches and bright coloured so you tend to use them but you have a large collection. You get closer to the webcam and lick up the dildo putting it in your mouth and making it wet.
You put it inside you once you’re satisfied with how long you’d been deepthroating it. George pulls his pants and boxers down and touches himself right away, wasting no time. He usually cums twice, it doesn’t take too long for him to get hard after once because he watches the whole show.
You liked doing the show because it is a way to let out all your stress and you have a desirable body that thousands of people want to see and you get generous donations during the livestream and to pay to private message you. You stay up for a few hours after your stream to talk to people because the more you talk the more they spend money on you.
Once you’d cum a few times and filled up the time you end the stream by reminding people about private messages, $5 to talk the whole night. George felt an urge to message you but he decided not tonight, he had to go to work the next day and help Fred with the shop. He took a shower and couldn’t stop thinking about you, he got ready for bed and closed his eyes and realised he couldn’t sleep if he didn’t attempt to message you. It was a couple hours after your show had ended and he decided to message you. You probably get hundreds of messages a night.
Ha pays the money to send a message he types in something simple “Hi, I watch your shows every night” he presses send and waits a bit doing other things, the notification pops up on the corner of his screen and he sees you answered. “Thank you, it means a lot, we haven’t spoken before, have we?” it was polite but George was thrilled you actually answered. He immediately types back “No we haven’t but I’ve been watching for a month now, I never got the courage to even send a live chat until now.”
George stayed up for hours talking to you. You signed off for the night to all the other men in your chats just to talk to him. He seemed like one of the guys who was nice and you were both the same age, he’s 25 as well but you don’t give out your age or actual name. You could pass for younger or older. Every night even when shows weren’t on you’d talk, the more detail you knew about him and the more sexual the conversations were the more you liked him. You’d stay up extra late to talk to him and you found yourself realising you’re getting attached and giving him false hope that you’d meet up one day.
“What’s your real name?” He asks “I can’t tell you, it’s apart of the mystery, besides you haven’t told me your name yet” “I understand and I do prefer not knowing, my name is George just so you know.” Your heart skips a beat and you feel as though you’d been transported back to Hogwarts, you had a huge crush on George Weasley, you didn’t know him well but you fancied him and your friends knew, you had common friends but never became friends. You used to be so shy and that is the one thing you wish you got over sooner so you could become friends with George. As far as you know he’s been doing very well for himself at Weasley’s Wizards Wheezes. You always thought about going in there but thinking about how shy you were makes you feel insecure and shy.
“I love that name, I used to know someone with that name, he was a great person, just like you” you reply “I’ll admit I’m so surprised you’ve been talking to me everyday for a week” “I’ve grown to like you, George.”After talking for another week you couldn’t get him off your mind and you knew that you were in too far.
“I don’t want you to keep paying every night, here’s my number. I trust you enough.” George just assumed you talked to everyone the same as him but you seemed to like him. He saves the number in his phone under Honey.
As the weeks went by, you were talking more than just at night. You became friends and you started to hate that George was calling you Honey. “I wish I could talk to you in person” he types “Why don’t we do it then?” “In person?” “Lets meet up, we can hook up at my place if you’re comfortable” you couldn’t believe you were doing this. “Are you sure? Neither of us know much about each other’s physical appearance, you don’t even know what I look like.” “I don’t care, I’ve fallen for you and we should meet up.” You send him an address to meet up a couple blocks from your house just in case he isn’t as sweet on the internet.
You get there early and stand on the busy street, each man that goes by you get hopeful until you see him, George Weasley standing there looking around for someone. In a matter of seconds everything clicks in your head, you’ve been talking to George Weasley, no wonder you were so in love with this guy you’d just met online. You apparate out of there before he sees you. You get into your apartment and send him a text “I’m so sorry George, I just threw up and I’m not in the mood to see anyone, I hope you know I’m not an asshole.” He texts back almost immediately “I get it, don’t feel bad we can reschedule” “Thank you for understanding.”
The next couple days you ignored his messages and he even tried to contact you on live chat but you wouldn’t message back. “I’m sorry if I wasn’t what you expected, I think I got the message” George knew it seemed weird she would text right as they were supposed to meet, she definitely saw him and ran. Your heart breaks and you feel obligated to message “Are you free right now?” You text back “Why?” “Let’s meet up, same spot and I promise I’ll be there to explain everything” “I’ll be there soon.”
You use magic to clean up your house just in case he isn’t grossed out by you and does want to come back to hook up. You apparate and see he is already there waiting, he seems shocked that you apparated “Honey?” He asks trying to get closer to see your face in the dark. You take a deep breath and get closer to him so he can see your face “Y/n?” “Hi George” “Did you know?” “No, I had no idea until I saw you and got scared so I apparated home.” “What do you think?” “I could ask the same” “I asked you first” “I’ve always fancied you, since about fourth year but I didn’t know you so I didn’t say anything.” “We knew each other just weren’t close” “So what do you think?” “I’ve fancied you since fifth year so I’m happy, I’m shocked though, you were so shy.” “I’m a different person to what I used to be” “I can tell” “So what do you want to do?” “Love, this makes this so much better, let’s go to yours.”
You take his hand and apparate him into your apartment. You help take off his coat and lead him to your bedroom. “Wow, this looks so much cooler in person” “It’s probably because you’ve only seen one wall of the room.” He walks around “Do you want to see the toys?” He nods and you open up a few drawers full of them. “Wow, that’s a lot, do you ever use magic?” “Sometimes if I’m tired of doing it myself but never on camera.”
You make the first move and kiss George, his lips are cold but your warm lips pressed to his feels nice. “Can I undress you?” “Of course, just promise me you won’t treat me differently now you know I’m me” “No way, I get to fuck you on the bed I’ve seen for months, I’m not going to treat you any differently than how I told you I would.” You smile and bite your lip trying to hide your excitement as he discards your clothes.
“You’re just as beautiful in real life” he kisses down your neck to your breasts and sucks on one of your nipples and you let out a whimper, he kisses down your body and hovers above your pussy. “Please George” you moan, he licks from your core up to your clit. He fingers you with two fingers first before sucking on your clit and curling his fingers inside you. Your fingers grasp his soft hair and pull on it while the other grips the side of the bed,
“George! I’m going to cum” you yell and he pounds his fingers into you “Fuck” he pulls his fingers out of you and licks them off. He takes off his shirt and unbuttons his pants while you’re recovering from your high. “I’m ready, I need your cock in me, George” you palm him through his pants and slide a hand into his boxers, jerking him off. He pulls them down “Lay down” you do as he says while he strokes himself a few times before lining himself up with your core.
He slides himself in and groans at the feeling “Fuck” he moans and slowly picks up the pace until he gets used to the feeling. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/n” he pounds himself into you, you feel yourself sink into the mattress with every stroke. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you let out a loud moan. “So fucking hot” You grip onto his bicep and look into his eyes when you are about to cum. Without saying anything he already knows “Come on, you’re so close” he rubs your clit with his other hand and you finish around him. “Holy shit, feels so good, you’re throbbing on my cock” you feel him finish and he lays beside you.
You lay your head on his chest “Thank you” he says “No, thank you, that was great” “I know you don’t do this for everyone so thanks and if you you did like it and want me to come around again I’ll be happy to.” You kiss his lips “George I want to see you again, a lot more often but also do other things like go to dinner or something.” You wait to see what he will say hoping he will agree. “Are you asking me on a date?” “No im asking you to be my boyfriend” “Really?” He sounds surprised “You don’t have to say yes I was just saying I’d like that” “Yes.”
George was fine with you doing your job, your shoes ever night and private messaging other guys because he knew that’s what you had to do to earn money. If he couldn’t be at your apartment one night he’d just watch your livestream.
#george weasley x y/n#fred and george#george smut#george weasley fluff#george weasley x reader#george weasley x you#george weasley fanfiction#george weasley imagine#george x reader
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Odd Hours//Getting Even
Pairing: Marcus Pike x Reader
Rating: T
Warnings: Cursing; Fluff; slow burn but not nearly as slow as my usual slow burns.
Notes: This is uh... I don’t know, I’ve had the idea kicking around in my head for a while. Also please excuse the film trivia. I will take any excuse to talk about The Man Who Came to Dinner. I couldn’t decide on which title would suit better so I named it both.
Not beta-read.
Summary: You’d never spoken to the your new neighbor before, just traded friendly waves… At the oddest times.
Your new neighbor looked very put together all of the time. Well… The couple of times that you’d seen him in passing. He was always in a suit, his tie was always straight, and his hair was always coiffed so neatly. You just assumed that he looked that good all the time. You’d seen him with a beard once, and then the next time you’d seen him, he was clean-shaven. He was gorgeous both ways, but that beard… Fuck, it had looked good.
You’d never spoken to the guy before, just traded friendly waves… At the oddest times.
--
The first time you spoke to him was evidence of that. It was almost three in the morning. You’d just gotten off of work at one of your jobs at a bar. You stifled a yawn as you stepped off of the elevator and fished into your pocket for your keys. You managed to dislodge something on your way, but you didn’t notice. At least, not until you heard:
“You dropped this.”
You turned to see your neighbor holding out the foldable reusable bag you tended to keep in your pocket.
“Oh!” You reached out, smiling, “Thank you-- I didn’t even notice.”
“Sure,” He nodded, “We haven’t met, I’m in 5B.”
“5A,” You jerked your thumb over your shoulder to your door.
“Marcus Pike,” He held his hand out to you, and you shook it, giving him your name.
“Long night?” You asked, and he chuckled, nodding.
“Very.”
The two of you linger for a moment longer before you nod over your shoulder, “I’ve got a couple of hungry cats to get to, so.”
“Right,” Marcus nodded.
“Nice to meet you.”
“You, too.”
You ducked into your apartment, shutting and locking the door behind yourself. You flicked the living room light on and tossed your keys into the bowl beside the door. You stepped further inside, smiling at the sight of your two Siamese cats, Princess and Pyewacket. They lifted their heads from where they were both lounging on the couch.
“I met our neighbor,” You told them. Pyewacket got up, stretching before jumping off of the couch and following you into the kitchen.
“Yes, he seemed very nice,” You answered the cat’s unasked question as you reached down, scratching his chin above the black moon and star patterned collar he had on. Princess slinked into the kitchen behind him, a matching pink collar around her neck.
“And hello to you, too,” You murmured, “Let’s get you fed.”
--
The next run-in was almost two weeks later. It was nearly noon, and you were coming off of your other job at a bookstore nearby. You ran into Marcus as he was leaving his apartment, and your brows rose.
“Hi there,” he greeted, smiling.
“Hey,” You shift your bag on your shoulder as you twirl your keys around your finger.
“How are the cats?”
You laughed a little, nodding, “They’re good. I won’t say they were happy to see me, but I fed them, so they tolerated my existence for another day.”
You eyed his pristine-as-usual-suit.
“Heading to work?”
“Yeah, just came off of a late night. I actually just kinda...Came back to shower and change,” He absently swept his hand over his tie.
“Oh, yikes,” Your brow furrowed, “What do you do?”
“I work for the FBI, International Art Theft.”
Your brows rose.
“Wow.”
“Surprised?”
“A little,” You admitted as you walked to your door, “I had my money on your being a lawyer.”
“Really?”
You lean back against your door, waving at him, “It was the suits.”
He chuckled, “I should get going-- as long as you don’t have any stolen art in there.”
“If I did, I wouldn’t tell you, now would I?” You teased, shooting him a wink, “Have a good day, Agent, and uh-- try to get some sleep at some point.”
--
It wasn’t every day that you got a knock on your door at two in the morning.
Your hackles were immediately up, and you were quiet and careful as you crept toward your door. You peered through the peephole, frowning at the sight of Agent Pike-- And one of your cats.
You hurriedly flicked your light on and opened the door.
“Is, uh, this one of yours?”
“Pye,” You groaned, reaching out to take Pyewacket out of Marcus’ arms, “I’m sorry-- sometimes he slips out when I come in, and-- He’s such a weirdo, he always waits right out here.” You cuddled him close to your chest, smiling a little as Pyewacket pushed his head up against your chin.
“Thank you,” You added, scratching Pye under the chin, “I hope he didn’t bug you.”
“No, he was pretty friendly.”
Your brows rose. That was rather unlike Pyewacket.
“I’ll be honest, I was a little surprised to see you holding him-- Though that was more because, you know.”
“It’s like two in the morning?” Marcus asked. You laughed, nodding.
“Another late night for you, Agent?”
“Slightly,” Marcus admitted before reaching out and scratching Pyewacket under the chin, “But I appreciated the welcoming committee.”
You smiled, glancing down at the cat as Marcus’ fingers brushed yours.
“Well, I’m glad Pye could be of assistance.”
“‘Pye’?” Marcus repeated, leaning in your doorway, “Like the food?”
“Oh, no. It’s short for Pyewacket,” You explained, shifting the cat in your arms.
“Like in Bell, Book and Candle with uh-- Kim Novak and Jimmy Stewart?” He asked.
You blinked up at Marcus in surprise.
“Uh… Yeah,” You nodded, and laughed, “Sorry, just-- Most people don’t know that.”
“I’m a fan of classic movies. --Who’s this?” Marcus looked down.
You followed his gaze, laughing, “Someone that was feeling left out. That’s Princess,” You smiled. You took a little bit of a step back as Marcus crouched down to pet her. You were suddenly acutely aware that you were in your pajamas and Marcus was still very...very suited. You couldn’t help but grin as he cooed over Princess, though.
“I’m not gonna lie, you strike me as a dog guy,” You admitted.
“Oh,” Marcus scooped Princess up, cradling her against his chest, “I do like dogs, don’t get me wrong, but my grandmother had a cat-- big fluffy Persian named Chester.”
You were quiet for a moment, watching Marcus and Princess before you glanced into your apartment.
“Do um--” You hesitated, “Do you wanna come in for a drink or something?”
Frankly, standing across from a cute guy as you each held one of your cats had to be the weirdest way you had ever asked a man into your place.
But it wound up with you and Marcus on your couch with a beer each having a shockingly nice conversation. You didn’t keep him long - you could tell it had been a long night for him and you didn’t want to keep him late - not to mention you had come off of a shift at the bar and you were pretty tired yourself.
Pike was out of there by 2:45 (though you’d gotten his number in your phone and yours in his by 2:42). Pyewacket trotted after him to the door. Marcus gave him one last scratch under his chin, one last look at you before he murmured, “Goodnight.”
--
Smitten was not the word you would use.
It was what you were, but you wouldn’t admit it. Hell, you barely knew the guy, had only met him a couple of times. But he seemed sweet-- and your cats liked him, that was a good sign.
You tried not to reflect on the fact that that thought made you sound like your Great-Aunt Cecily.
You held off on using Pike’s phone number for about two weeks. Then one night, around 10:30, in the middle of a William Powell marathon on TCM, Pyewacket jumped off of your couch and trotted over to the front door. You frowned, watching him and muttering, “What the fuck, dude?” before you heard the jingling of keys. You smiled when you realized why he’d gotten up - and went out on a limb as you pulled your phone out and texted Pike:
-Either you just got home or the ghosts in the hallway are bothering my cat again
You raised your phone, snapping a quick picture of Pyewacket at the door before sending it off. You glanced down at the lone messages in the chat before you closed it, tossing your phone onto the couch cushion beside you. It didn’t stay there long, though-- it buzzed a moment later.
5B: You’ve got a great alarm cat
5B: Just how often do the ghosts in the hallway bother Pyewacket?
5B: And how many ghosts are we talking?
-Like once a week, they’re very mean to him.
-And at least two ghosts, I’m convinced
You put your phone down, figuring that that would be the end of it.
You were wrong.
5B: They bug Princess, too?
-Nope, they don’t dare. No one fucks with Princess
-How’s work?
5B: Busy.
-Long day?
5B: Excruciatingly
-Sorry 😞
You winced, resting your head on your hand and considering. Why did you use an emoji? You raised your phone and snapped a picture of Princess where she was curled up on your lap.
-You could take Princess with you next time if it’ll help?
5B: Might take you up on that. I’d prefer not to be fucked with tomorrow
You smiled.
-I’ll see what I can do about a leash
5B: Very kind of you
-Anytime
--
5B: Okay, I don’t wanna be weird, but I feel like almost every time I come in around dinner time, whatever you get or are making smells delicious
You looked down at your phone as it buzzed and chuckled, picking it up from where you’d left it on the counter.
-Not weird. Not to brag but I’m kinda the slow-cooker queen
You glanced at the slow-cooker, and the timer reading fifteen minutes left on the food you were making. It was a large batch - you’d wanted to have enough so that you could bring lunch to work at the bookstore. But there was enough to spare. You hesitated before texting,
-Hungry?
--
Marcus brought wine, and stayed for three hours. The two of you ate dinner, did the washing up, and wound up on your couch watching It Happened One Night. Conversation flowed over most of it - you’d both seen it several times. The movie gave the two of you the chance to watch and weave in and out of conversation and film trivia without pressure. Pye and Princess curled up on the couch between you like sleepy little chaperones.
By the time he left, the bottle of wine that he’d brought was empty, and he had cat hair all over his pant legs.
“Thanks for dinner,” He turned around to face you as he stopped in the hall.
“Sure,” You leaned in your doorway, tucking your hands into the pockets of your sweatpants.
“I’ll have to have you over sometime, make us even.”
Your stomach flipped at the offer and you nodded, “I’d like that.”
--
“What’s got you out so late?”
“Work.”
“I’m guessing it’s the bar and not the bookshop?” Marcus asked as he watched you slouch against the wall of the elevator. You smiled a little tiredly.
“I see those sharp skills aren’t just reserved for art thieves, Agent Pike.”
He chuckled as the two of you stepped off at your floor.
“What about you?” You asked.
“Grabbed drinks with the team after work. We closed a case.”
“Congratulations,” You smiled, “What happened?”
“It’s a slightly long story,” Marcus shrugged, “...Would you like to come in and hear about it?”
“Gimme half an hour to shower and feed the babies and I’ll be right over.”
--
“...Shit.”
“What?” You lifted your head from his shoulder.
Considering the last two times Marcus had been to yours, you hadn’t had any reservations about going over to Marcus’ in your comfy clothes. You’d shuffled over in your slippers, and when Marcus had opened the door, you’d held up a bottle of white wine. He’d grinned and told you it would pair well with the grilled cheese he was planning on making for the two of you. Without the cats between you, you and Marcus had settled close together on the couch. As the late night wore into early morning, you’d wound up tucked into his side as you talked.
“It’s almost four,” He chuckled, looking away from his watch.
“Oh,” You yawned widely, “I should let you get to bed.”
“I’m the boss, I can get in a little late.”
You smiled, tipping your head up and finding him watching you.
“You don’t seem the type to abuse that power,” You teased.
“Long as it doesn’t become a habit.”
“Mm-mm,” You shook your head a little bit and sat up, “I don’t wanna be a bad influence. I save that for Pye and Princess.”
“Can I walk you home?”
You laughed and nodded as you and Marcus got up from the couch. You missed the warmth of him as soon as you were up, and you were so tempted to turn back toward him and cuddle into his chest-- if only to warm back up.
You chatted a little more on your way to the door, and you tried not to overthink the way Marcus put his hand on your lower back as he opened the door for you.
--
“Can you recommend a good book?”
You didn’t look away from what you’re shelving, but you couldn’t help the slight flurry of butterflies in your stomach at the question.
“That depends on what you’re looking for.”
“Oh...Maybe something on classic film.”
“That’s gonna be two aisles that way,” You nodded over your shoulder, “Back wall.”
“Could you show me?”
“You really don’t have anything better to do today, Agent Pike?” You teased.
There was a pause before you heard him drifting closer to you. He peered over your shoulder, his breath brushing against the shell of your ear as he murmured, “Well, I was hoping I could take you to lunch, if you’ve got time.”
“You trying to even out our meal score?”
You glanced up as he leaned against the shelf beside you and met your eyes.
“I’m trying to spend more time with you,” He admitted, “If you’re interested.”
You lowered your eyes to the books you were shelving, unable to help the smile that grew on your lips at his bluntness.
“I’m interested.”
--
Lunch ended with plans for Marcus to come over after your shift at the bar the following night. He dropped you back off at the bookstore and left you with a kiss on the corner of your mouth that you thought about for the rest of your shift.
--
TCM was airing a Bette Davis marathon. By the time you got home, it was nearly 10:30. You showered, neatened up the apartment, cleaned as much cat hair off of the couch as you possibly could, and told Princess and Pyewacket to behave themselves. Princess blinked at you; Pyewacket flicked his tail. You texted Marcus that he could come over whenever he was ready, and there was a knock on the door ten minutes later.
Marcus looked cozy in a way you hadn’t seen before - sweatpants and a t-shirt that accentuated his broad shoulders and strong arms. You stepped back and nodded him in, and grinned as he crouched down, immediately scooping up Pyewacket as he came over.
--
“You know, Bette Davis wanted John Barrymore to play Whiteside,” You were cuddled against Marcus’ chest; his arm was curled around your shoulders, fingers skimming along the strap of your tank top, “But he was drinking so heavily he couldn’t remember his lines. They wound up going with Monty Wooley-- he played Whiteside on Broadway, too.”
“Really?” Marcus’ question was mumbled against your temple. You nodded a little.
“Mhm. Cary Grant was set to play the role at one point, but Davis was so against it that he withdrew.”
“Something tells me you like this movie.”
You laughed, reaching out and absently picking off a piece of cat hair off of his sweatpants. When you’d disposed of it, you rested your hand on his knee lightly, giving him a chance to shake it off. Marcus just gave your shoulder a squeeze, and you gave his knee one in turn.
--
The two of you watched The Man Who Came to Dinner and All About Eve.
“I’m worried that I’m setting a dangerous precedent for your sleep pattern,” You sighed as the credits rolled. It was almost half past three.
“Mm, don’t worry about me,” He murmured, nuzzling into your neck. You closed your eyes, shivering a little bit.
“...Do you wanna stay over?” You offered, raising your hand and lightly running your fingers along Marcus’ arm.
“I’d like that.”
You could hear the smile in his voice.
“C’mon,” You urged, patting his thigh and standing.
“Should we clean up?” Marcus stood with you, looking at the empty popcorn bowl and discarded cans of beer on the coffee table.
“Nah, we can deal with it in the morning,” You took hold of his hand, leading him back to your room. Marcus glanced back toward your cats, to where Princess and Pyewacket were still settled on the couch.
“Do the cats sleep with you?” He asked.
“Sometimes.”
“They gonna be mad if I shut your door?”
“They’ll get over it.”
--
It was your alarm that woke you up. You leaned across Marcus, mumbling your ‘sorry’s and shutting it off. Once you did, you leaned back down, resting your head on his shoulder and closing your eyes again. You smiled as his arm curled around your waist.
“You need to go?” He mumbled.
“No, just-- Forgot I had it set.”
“Good.”
You smiled, turning your head and nuzzling against his shoulder.
“You sleep okay?”
“Mhm,” He hummed, sliding his thumb along the hem of your shirt, “You should stay over at mine next time.”
“So we’re even?”
You blinked up at him as his fingers curled under your jaw, tipping your head up to look at him.
“Things aren’t always about getting even,” He smiled sleepily down at you.
“What’s it about then?”
“...Why’d you ask me to stay over?”
You hesitated before you pushed yourself up to lean over him, “I thought you’d look good in my bed. And whaddaya know? I was right.”
Marcus laughed, using the arm wrapped around you to draw you against his chest.
“You know what I’ve been thinking about?” He asked.
“Mm?”
“Kissing you.”
Heat curls in your stomach, tingling and pleasant.
“Something stopping you?” You asked.
The hand on your jaw slipped down to rest on the back of your neck. His eyes darted between your eyes and your lips for a few moments before he leaned up, brushing his lips against yours. You felt that spark grow in your stomach, and you dipped your head a little closer, chasing the chaste touch. You shifted, leaning more heavily against him and resting your hand on his chest, fingers curling in the fabric of his shirt, hooking in his collar. When he pulled you closer and turned, settling you down on your back, you went easily, letting your thighs splay so that he could lay between them.
You moaned quietly as your kisses became warmer, more insistent. You wrapped an arm around Marcus’ shoulders, sighing as he slipped a hand under your shirt.
And then you heard a yowl at your door.
You groaned quietly, dropping your head back as Marcus laughed, resting his forehead against your neck.
“I told them to behave,” You whined.
“Don't blame them, this is on me. I should’ve kissed you last night,” Marcus murmured against your throat. You shivered, chuckling a little.
“I should feed them before they do something rude like continue to yell... or throw up in your shoes.”
“Would they do that?”
“Oh, god yeah. I love Princess, but she’s an asshole.”
--
You reached down, setting Pye’s food dish down for him and scratching him behind the ears as he began to eat. Princess was already halfway through her food. You glanced over at your phone as it buzzed on the counter and grinned when you saw who it was.
❤️5B: How’s unpacking?
-Nearly finished. A couple of boxes left. Pye was sleeping on a stack, so I couldn’t touch it.
❤️5B: No worries, baby. On my way home. Need anything?
-Cat food and popcorn. Humphrey Boggart marathon starts at 8
❤️5B: Takeout?
-Nope, got dinner covered.
❤️5B: You’re my favorite.
-Don’t let Pyewacket hear you saying that.
❤️5B: Favorite human.
-Better. Btw some couple moved in across the hall. I think they have a dog?
❤️5B: I’ll make sure Pye doesn’t get out when I come in
Tag list: @mylittlelonelyappreciationtoo; @fantasticcopeaglepasta; @paintballkid711
#Marcus Pike x Reader#Marcus Pike x You#Marcus Pike/You#Marcus Pike/Reader#Marcus Pike Imagine#Odd Hours//Getting Even#Tumblr was doing WEIRD formatting things so i'm sorry if anything looks wonky??#Marcus Pike
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Restoration
Jax Teller x Daughter Reader
“You gonna actually behave for your father this week?” You mum asked as you packed your bag.
“Maybe, depends if he pisses me off or not” you shrugged.
The thing was your mum and dad split about 4 years ago, a year after Abel was born. They had you at a young age, at 15 to be precise, you was now 18 and had seen their relationship completely fall apart, you saw how he treated your mum towards the end of the relationship and you hated it, you hated how he made your mum feel, how you saw the whole thing. However you were grateful Abel was still too young to understand what was going on.
“Y/N please, I know you don’t get along with him but he is your dad at the end of the day” mum sighed.
“Not gonna change my opinion on him” you laughed.
Even though your parents weren’t together anymore they never actually filed for a divorce.
“Just try” mum said placing her hand on your shoulder “for Abel at least, it’s hard enough on him as it is”
“And it’s not hard for me mum” you spat “try going through school where everyone is obsessed with the sons, constantly badgering me about them, about dad, asking if the fucking rumours are true”
You knew that your mum wasn’t completely innocent in the whole relationship break down. So you had an attitude with them both.
The drive to Teller-Morrow was silent, neither you or your mum spoke because you were your father’s daughter at the end of day, your mum always said it was like having a female Jax in the house, the way you held yourself, your attitude, your temper. So no words were spoken just for Abel’s sake, he didn’t need to see his sister and mum biting each other’s heads off.
Climbing out of the car, you grabbed your bag from the boot, before wandering off to find your uncles, at least you had a good relationship with them, it was just the relationship with your dad that was rocky.
You didn’t get it, he was such a good father to Abel, but with you it was a different story, one of his biggest regrets was you seeing the breakdown happen, all the arguments that happened when you were younger. Since then you saw the man that you once saw as your hero as the bad guy.
���Hey kiddo” Jax grinned, opening his arms to you.
“Whatever dad” you huffed walking by him, dumping your bag on the picnic bench before placing a cigarette in your mouth.
“She’s in a mood, sorry Jax” you heard mum say, making you roll your eyes. “Give her a couple of days and she should calm down”
“She’s so much like me it’s scary” he sighed as he watched you laugh with Tig and Happy.
“If you’re gonna talk about me can you at least go somewhere where I can’t bloody hear you” you snapped not looking at them.
Jax knew that with both his kids being here with him for the week, he was going to try his hardest to mend the bridges that had once been burnt. He wanted nothing more than getting his little girl back.
“I will speak with her” Jax nodded as he took Abel into his arms, who was grinning at the sight of his daddy.
At least one of his kids didn’t hate him.
However he had a plan, he knew you loved bikes, so he had one sat in the garage waiting to be restored and he was hoping it was something you could do together and then he could teach you to ride. He knew it wouldn’t magically fix the relationship but at least it would give you a memory that wasn’t bad.
Your mum had now left, which meant you were stuck with your dad for the next week, no doubt it would be a week of you looking after Abel, it always was when you were here, the club came before you. It always had and always would.
“Table in 5” Jax shouted as he walked into the club, he didn’t miss the eye roll that came from you, he knew what you thought, you had only been here 10 minutes and he was putting the club before you. But this time would be different.
“Okay so everyone knows my relationship with Y/N is very much on the rocks right now” Jax sighed running his hand over his face. “And I know it’s my fault and I want to fix that, so this week I only want to be involved in club business if the shit has hit the fan. Anything else speak to Chibs, I need to fix things with my little girl before it is too late”
Everyone nodded, they knew how much Jax loved you, you was his first born at the end of the day and it killed him knowing that you hated him.
“Anything we can do to help we are here” Happy nodded.
“Thanks Hap but this is something I need to do on my own, I created this mess so I need to fix it” Jax sighed “If it can be fixed”
It was now Wednesday and Jax still hadn’t made any progress, the bike lay untouched in the garage, and you hadn’t spoken more than a few words a day to him.
“Uncle Hap am I being a bitch?” You sighed looking up at him as you lit a smoke.
“Honestly kiddo, I know where you are coming from but he is the only dad you are gonna get” Happy said placing his hand on yours. “I know the reasons you have for hating Jax but he misses his little girl, I’m not saying forgive him straight away but stop shutting him out”
“I miss my dad” you sighed “but you didn’t hear me say that”
“My lips are sealed” Happy nodded “you know he took a step back from the club this week to spend time with you and Abel”
“I didn’t know” you sighed running your hand over your face.
“I think he wants to restore a bike or something with you” Hap smiled kissing your head “he’s in the garage”
Trudging into the garage with your head hung low, you felt guilty about how you went off at dad this morning.
“I’m sorry” you mumbled, not looking up.
You heard him sigh and his footsteps getting closer to you.
Talk about irony, the radio had started playing bad husband, scoffing as dad placed his hand on your shoulder.
You can be a liar and a good father A good dad, but a bad husband
“Guess the song is 90% right” you sighed “you are a good father to Abel at least”
“Hey look at me kiddo” Dad said lifting your chin. “My biggest regret in life was letting you see all the fights between me and your mum. I know that has done so much damage to our relationship but I never stopped loving your or your mum okay”
You stayed silent, you didn’t know what to say.
Forever be a hero in my eyes, But there’s always another side. To a good father. A great dad, but a bad husband
“Look me and your mum still love each other and we probably always will” he sighed “we just don’t work well together okay but that doesn’t mean I stopped loving you”
All I want is for us not to hurt. And it’s been an exhaustive search to find the words
The song was basically saying everything you couldn’t.
But I’m not so sure how to close this. I just don’t know how some people can be so good At one thing and so fucked at a whole ‘nother, shit, it’s no wonder
You both just stood there not saying a word as Jax pulled you into his arms holding you tight.
“I’m not saying we have to go back to being as close as we once were but I want a chance, a chance to mend the bridges I burnt, I want to be in your life and not as someone you hate” Jax whispered.
Nodding your head, you sniffed as a tear fell down your cheek, this was the most you had talked in a year. All you wanted to hear over the past year was that your dad still loved you.
“You don’t have to say anything yet sweetheart” dad whispered kissing your head “now what do you say to helping your old man fix this bike up and then I would like it if you let your old man teach you how to ride”
“I’d like that” you mumbled.
The next few days flew by and your mum had arrived to pick you and Abel up. Pushing yourself off the bench you walked over to her with a slight smile on your face.
“Come on, let’s get you home” mum said.
Glancing over to your dad you smiled softly before turning back to your mum.
“Actually mum, I think I’m gonna stick around here a bit longer” you nodded feeling Jax place his hand on your shoulder squeezing it softly. “I wanna stay with dad, we still have a bike to finish”
-
Your mum stood staring at you, confusion spread all over her face.
“You want to willingly stay?” She questioned
“Yup” you nodded.
“Who are you and what have you done with my daughter?” She laughed before turning to Jax “you okay with her staying?”
“Course I am” he beamed at the fact you wanted to stay with him longer.
As soon as you said bye to your mum, you headed back into the garage leaving Jax stood there in his own world.
“Come on dad the bike isn’t gonna fix its self” you laughed rolling your sleeves up.
The hours flew by and you was both covered in grease, Chibs walked outside hearing all the laughter coming from the garage, a smile formed on his face as he snapped a photo of the two of you before walking back into the club house.
“Okay a know normally a would bring this ta table but no one is to disturb Jackie Boy, a don’t care wha it is, if it’s club business, Ye arms fallen off or Ye are on fire, ye come ta me” Chibs smiled leaning against the bar. “Tha is until further notice, this is wha they both need”
Everyone nodded in agreement, it was nice to see you and Jax not at each other’s throats and they knew that the fact you wanted to stay here meant you really wanted to rebuild the relationship
Standing back from the bike something clicked.
“Why does this bike look so familiar?” You asked.
“Well princess it was your grandads” Jax grinned draping his arm around your shoulder.
“JT’s” you said looking up and he nodded. “Wait and you are just letting me have once we have fixed her up?”
“That’s the plan” Jax laughed “he would have wanted you to have it and it’s better than it sitting gathering dust”
You were in awe, you knew how much this bike meant to him. Wrapping your arms around him you gave him a tight hug.
Neither of you talked about much other than the bike, outside of the garage you were slowly building things back up, you both knew it would take longer than a week but it was a start.
“So your mum says you’ve been getting into trouble at college?” He asked as you were packing the tools up.
“Meh” you shrugged “someone said something, I didn’t like it so I fucking punched them and broke there nose. No biggie”
Jax couldn’t help but smirk, you were exactly like him, in so many ways.
“You can’t say anything dad you taught me talking was boring when you can fight it out” just as you said it an idea popped into your head. Spinning round on the balls of your feet you grinned at your dad.
“No, nope happening” He laughed when he realised what you was thinking “me and you aren’t going at it in the ring” he chuckled.
“Why do you think you will lose old man” you taunted.
“Nope it’s not that” he said looking up “I am not boxing with my daughter”
“You’re just scared because you know I’m gonna beat your ass” you giggled squaring up to him.
He knew you weren’t gonna back down. You was a Teller at the end of the day.
“Fine but if you get hurt you are telling your mum it was your idea” Jax sighed in defeat.
And with that you ran off into the clubhouse to tell everyone.
It was now 7pm and Tig was wrapping your fists.
“You sure about fighting your dad kiddo?” He asked.
“Uncle Tiggy I’m sure” you nodded “we need this, well I need this. If I’m gonna let go of the past I need to do this”
“Okay then” he smiled kissing your fist “beat the shit out of your old man”
You were now standing face to face with your dad in the ring. He knew what was happening, and he wasn’t going to fight back, he had overheard what you said to Tig. So if beating the shit out of him was what you needed to forgive him then that is what he was going to let you do.
Punch after punch, you felt the anger flow through your fists, you were fuelled by every bad memory, everything he did and he just let the punches keep coming.
Your emotions got the better of you as you scream, pounding your fists against his chest as you burst into tears. As soon as this happened Jax wrapped his arms around you, dropping to his knees holding you tight.
“That’s it princess let it all out, all the anger, all the pain” he whispered rubbing your back. “I’m never gonna leave you okay, no matter what happens with me and your mum, you will always have your old man in your corner. My biggest regret is you saw everything happen, I never wanted you to feel like I loved Abel more than you, you are my little girl, my princess and I love you”
Once you had calmed down, you felt a weight had been lifted off your shoulders, you no longer felt an immense hatred towards your dad.
It had been a couple of days after the ‘fight’ and you had actually started to open up. The bike was finished and you were just putting the tools away.
“I want to drop out of college” you said “it’s really not for me, I struggle with the exams and coursework”
“You know whatever you decide I will support you” Jax smiled softly at you, hee knew where you was coming from, he was exactly the same when it came to tests and the theory behind things. “If you did drop out what would you do?”
“Actually I wanna be a mechanic” you said looking up. “Maybe I could work here”
“Why don’t you sleep on the idea and if you really want to drop out then we will get it all sorted” he said kissing your head. “Now what do you say we take her for a spin?”
“You think I’m ready for the roads” you laughed.
“You are a natural” he grinned tossing you your helmet “it’s in your blood”
The rest of the day was spent riding round the streets charming, a smile on your face and your relationship with your dad well on the road to being what it once was. Never in a million years you would have thought that restoring JT’s bike would actually restore your relationship as well.
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Suicidal Misunderstanding XVIII
Part I - - - - - - - - - - - - - Part XV - - - - Part XVI - - - - Part XVII
Star Wars Time Travel AU #27
All Conversation stopped when Obi-Wan opened the door.
The air crackled with energy as the assembled Jedi Masters (and Anakin) paused their obviously fierce debate. After a beat, their was the utterly distinct sensation of several Masters releasing their mixed emotions to the force in an overheated wave, leaving behind only serenity (mostly). Obi-Wan’s heart keened. Of course, at the time, the tendency of council meetings to devolve into petty squabbles had been a constant source of frustration but after three years where his only source of debate was haggling over stolen goods...well.
Obi-Wan smiled, aching softly at the sight of the friends and colleagues, miraculously alive and whole.
The Nautolan Healer- the person in the room with whom he was least familiar- cleared their throat and began speaking. “Master Kenobi, welcome. I want to start off by saying you are under no obligation to-”
Yoda cut them off, “A Jedi, Master Kenobi is, Obligated he is-”
“My patient, he is, Grandmaster,” they bit back. “I know soul healing might have been looked down on when you were in training, but I would have thought-”
Master Koth interrupted, disapproval permeating the room, “And we would have thought you would have more respect when addressing your senior Jedi.”
“I couldn’t agree more,” Master Mundi blustered.
Chattering rang out as everyone in the room began talking at once.
“Master, are you alright?” Anakin asked urgently.
The conversation shut down again as the group turned to look at the man in question. Who was biting down on this fist and shaking slightly.
“I told you-” Adi Galia began. Argument erupted once more and Obi-Wan doubled over with laughter.
“Something funny, you found?” Yoda asked as Obi-Wan tried to stop laughing. “Share, you can.”
Obi-Wan inhaled sharply, wiping at the corner of his eyes and forcibly pulling himself out of his explosively giddiness, “My apologies grandmaster, i’m afraid it’s not actually that funny- I simply missed the unique tones of a high council meeting.”
“All council meetings are like this?“ Bant asked, sounding unimpressed.
“Some more than others,” Master Koon acknowledged, rubbing a hand to his forehead.
Obi-Wan cleared his throat, “Master Aerdo, I appreciate your support and while I am now doubt in need of the services of a Soul Healer- it is for rather different reasons than...outward appearances have let you to believe. Now shall we all have a seat?”
Koth frowned “All of us? I thought this was a council matter, not a personal one.” Bant and Anakin stiffened.
“It’s both.” Obi-Wan responded calmly. “But beyond that, I assure you, we will be needing the skills of everyone in this room. Master Nu, Master Che- I don’t wish to impose if you need to return to running your own domains, but I would very much appreciate your presence if your willing. I think you will find it worth your time.”
“I wasn’t planning on leaving even if you asked, so I’m pleased to accept your invitation.” Master Nu replied, cheerfully taking a seat. The rest followed and Obi-Wan joined them at the head of the holo table, eyes lingering over the assembled group. He took a breath.
“The first thing you need to know is that I have detailed knowledge of one potential future. A future I intend to prevent. A future I lived through...”
- - - - -
It is necessary to note that everyone in that room had led, in one way or another, a rather remarkable life. This was the main reason none of them could claim that the next two and half hours were the most shocking they had ever experienced. It is more than likely it was the most shocking meeting any had attended.
“We would have seen if the Sith had risen to such power!”
“Oh? Just as we would have seen if the Sith had survived at all? I remember having a similar conversation to this one 10 years ago-”
“We would have noticed- for force sake he’s visited the temple, we’ve all shaken his hand-
“Arrogant, the council has become. Seen this I have. Arrogant, I have become.”
“Skywalker may have a point about mind control, tactically-”
- - - - -
“If what you’re saying is true, though I still think perhaps some more time with Masters Aerdo and Che wouldn’t be unwarranted-”
“Oh, enough all ready Ki. We’re not going to get anywhere if you keep this up.”
“Wait- I actually have something that might help convince you that I do have overly detailed knowledge of the future- we- actually can I get some flimsi? Thank you, Anakin- a few months from now Master Mundi and I ended up trapped behind enemy lines for an extended period of time. It’s hard not to learn a few things about one another when that happens. Here you are-”
". . .”
“I told you that?”
“You, uh, didn’t really have much of a choice.”
“Oh gods.”
“Now, do you believe me?”
“Well...I suppose- I can’t really imagine how else you could possibly know considering you can’t possibly have spoken to-”
“Of course not! Honestly, how would I have been able, even if I wanted to?”
“I have never wanted to steal a message this badly in my life”
“Same”
“Yes, read the flimsi, we all want to. Welcome to, clearly we are NOT.”
Master Koth who had begun to lean suspiciously far back in his chair, fell forward with a clatter, rapidly releasing guilt into the force.
“Yes, well...hm...The force has obviously given you...an unusually wide window of insight. It would be...remiss of us to ignore it.”
“Kriff, we’re never going to know what that note said, are we?”
“No.”
- - - - -
“That’s utterly impossible- I’m sorry Obi-Wan but you’ve obviously been tricked.”
“I’m sorry Plo. Believe me, I know. I- I don’t think they were themselves.”
“If it happened suddenly enough...when we were all in the field, isolated-”
“Being surrounded by our troops is not the same thing as being isolated!”
“Agreed. Explain what you mean by ‘not themselves’”
“Well, I had just defeated General Grievous.”
“Oh, hey! Nice!”
“Thank you, Anakin. I was rejoining the troops after defeating the General- My Commander handed me back my lightsaber, which I don’t think he would have done if he was planning on- well. I began- .”
“Hold on a moment. Do you mean to say you defeated Grievous without your lightsaber.”
“I’d rather not get into the distasteful specifics-”
“Ha! That means he used a blaster.”
“Keep a better grip on your saber, you should.”
“Enough interruptions- please allow him to get to the point.”
“...Master Koon, perhaps you should take a moment to release your emotions.”
“I will do so in a moment, continue Obi-Wan.”
“Yes, Cody seemed completely normal when I spoke to him. I began riding Boga up the cliff face to meet up with a rendezvous when the force started getting...dark. Darker than it had been. I heard- distant screaming. Death. It-”
“Wait, Boga? Whoargh”
“MASTER KOON CALM DOWN”
- - - - -
“...My apologies Knight Skywalker. I have had an...abnormally mentally taxing morning. My control is somewhat damaged...”
“No worries, happens to everyone, right?”
“...Let’s return to the room and discuss this later.”
- - - - -
“To breach the temple, need a force user familiar with our protections, they would...My padawan...dead at this time, he was, yes?
“Yes, Master, Yoda. It- Anakin had technically defeated him four days prior.”
“Technically?
“You- I’m sure you did defeat him- I was unconscious at the time but I’m certain of that much at least- but it was a trap. We were on a rescue mission and- I think Sidious wanted him eliminated at that point, so he could assume full control over both sides.”
“...He really has arranged things to win no matter, hasn’t he?”
"Obi-Wan, the temple purge- how-”
“I- I wasn’t on the planet at the time...”
“Well, do you have any idea what he might have done to control the clones?”
“Yes, I do have one theory actually- I didn’t witness any of these events first hand, but several months before the purge, one of the troopers killed Master Tiplar in a fit of madness- claimed not to clearly remember doing so and was sent to Kamino to be examined. Later, another clone- Fives- attempted to assassinate the Chancellor, accused him of working with the separatists as part of a conspiracy. The Chancellor’s medics claimed he had a tumor from a parasite on Ringo Vinda but in light of what happened after...well.
“...Why would we not investigate that.”
“Shaak Ti did, but her report was...vague. I only saw her two more times in person between now and the end. Her force presence was- shadowed. Not fallen, but...tired.”
“And you didn’t follow-up? None of us did?”
“...I can not even begin to express how much was happening at the time.”
“Nevertheless, Master Kenobi-”
“To be absolutely blunt I didn’t even remember the report until I was several months into hiding, with little else to do but meditate on the past. It just- fell into the cracks. Like a lot of things.”
“Force. We’re not assigning blame, we’re just attempting to understand. The knowledge of Palpatine...well it helps us understand a bit better how we got to where we are now. But how we got from here to there...”
“Yes, of course.”
“. . .”
“Obi-Wan?”
“Sorry- just...marshaling my memories. As I said before, the last year of the war was increasingly straining, with unrelenting pressure on the Order coming from all directions. None of us were at our best, but it in hindsight I was...still reeling...in particular. From- force I still can’t believe all that happened in six months- fuck. Sorry. Pardon my language.”
“It’s fine, don’t worry about us- just keep going,”
“Krell betrayed us horrifically- I don’t think 501st or the 212th ever got over it. Immediately after that was that absolute clusterfuck of a mission- I spent a month in a Zygrian Slave Camp- I don’t even know what we were thinking dressing Ashoka like that- ”
“Wow, wow, WAIT-”
“We were trying to go undercover to rescue the Kiros colonists but obviously it blew up in our faces immediately. I was still healing from the, well, torture, when I had to go undercover as the assassin who killed myself in a Republic Jail to protect the Chancellor. I’d rather not talk about it but needless to say I was still physically and mentally not at my best when Maul returned from the dead-”
“I- Maul?”
“He wanted revenge on me for bisecting him on Naboo- turns out both sith and zabraks are very hard to kill, so that was a pleasant surprise. Didn’t really have time to meditate on that failure before we were training guerilla fighters on Onderara-”
“Wait, Naboo? You mean-'
“Yes. Anakin and Ashoka were still mad about faking my death during the ‘undercover thing’ so that made things- tense. Then Ashoka was sent to Illum for what was supposed to be a safe mission-”
“Oh gods-”
“She got kidnapped along with a number of initiates. Somehow befriended Hondo...so...that worked out fine. I guess. Then Maul and his brother. They. Well they got revenge. Satine died. They wanted to get back at me. I was still censured by the council for my actions from that incident at the time of the temple bombing-”
“You! Obi-Wan-”
“Which meant that when Ashoka was sentenced to death I could barely even speak a word in her defense, which is maybe just as well considering the blind faith we had in the senate-”
“WHAT!”
“Calm down, of course it wasn’t her, but after the sith hells she was put through she, understandably, had lost trust in the order and decided to strike out on her own. I was still trying to clean up that political mess, track her down, not to mention run multiple armies with even less help than before when I got the reports about the rogue clones. Obviously I should have done something with the information, but. Well, I didn’t.”
Obi-Wan took a deep breath, rubbing his face with both hands. When he looked up to face the room, he was faced with various shades of shock and pity. There were several long moments of silence before Master Windu reluctantly spoke.
“... Let’s start with Krell.”
“Right. Right. Well, like I said the last year of the war was...hard. A number of people fell. Krell was the first, I think. His reasons were one of the less...hard to rationalize, even intellectually.”
“Pong Krell I suppose he always was-”
“Still I thought he had gotten over such things...”
“Oh, Kriff.”
“Relax Anakin, they haven’t taken off yet.”
“Oh, remember that one time when he was an initiate- that poor little Nautolan boy, what was his name?”
“Wait, taken off? Mace... who’s leading the my troops right now?”
“Master, before you freak out, they’re still on Coruscant.”
“Master Gallia, I don’t think that’s entirely fair- you can’t judge a Master by what they did as an initiate-”
“Ok, ok. I suppose take off must have been delayed due to my- well. When are they schedule to leave?”
“We can’t judge a Jedi by if they might fall, we could only judge them by their current actions.”
“Sundown? That- force. I had the start of a plan but- that’s enough time- but if you replace him...Sith Hells. I need things to proceed normally but kriff, there’s just not enough time. I- I don’t know if I can save everyone-”
“We’ll figure it out, Obi-Wan.”
“I- we’re coming back to this Windu- That was very well said Master Koon and I’d like you to hold onto that thought. We, we can’t judge our fellow Jedi for what they might do... good people can fall into darkness, when they’re pushed hard enough.”
“Then Krell...”
“Oh kark no, Krell’s irredeemable. Uh. That is to say. I’m reasonably certain he’s already been deliberately killing his men.
“Kriff.”
“Yes, quite.”
“...Can we go back to the brain parasite?”
- - - - -
“Alright, enough.”
“Agreed. We’re going in circles about the clone’s loyalty- once we finish this meeting we’ll start brain scans at once but for now- Obi-Wan the fallen. The purge.”
“I was on Utapau- I didn’t- I wasn’t there.”
“Master Kenobi, are you stalling?”
“Of course not, I- ok the next Jedi I remember falling was Depa Bilbaba.”
“. . .”
“That’s absurd.”
“Fall, anyone’s padawan can.
“Yes, but Depa-”
“It was a mission to Harun Kul- should I go into the details?”
“Damnit, Kenobi-
“She actually returned to the light, eventually.”
“Impossible!”
- - - - -
“Vos? I suppose he is a shadow...”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“Oh, boy-”
- - - - -
“I’m somewhat confused.”
“I wouldn’t say she fully joined the light but...she didn’t want to be dark anymore.”
“You don’t think it was just circumstances?”
“Well, two years after the fall of the republic I ran into her at a bar-”
“Of course you did”
“Oh shut up, like you wouldn’t drink after all that”
“Fair enough.”
“Anyway, she could have turned me in. The bounty on my head was obscenely high, but after all our history... she bought me a drink.”
“He’s definitely stalling.”
“Yes I know...”
- - - - -
“Luminara’s apprentice? She can barely stand violence, even in the hypothetical.”
“Yes...I think that was rather the point. She- she couldn’t accept the Jedi’s role in the war and she thought she didn’t have a way out...”
“Force have mercy on us all.”
- - - - -
“...Yoda...you have to understand, the darkness in the force was overwhelming at that point...you could hardly breath.”
“Master Kenobi, if you are trying to tell us that Yoda fell- I am- not going to have a mild reaction.”
“. . .”
“Obi-Wan?!”
“No, Yoda didn’t fall.”
“FUCK’S SAKE KENOBI DON’T DO THAT”
“Can fall, any of us.”
“DON’T YOU START”
“Deep breaths Master Koth, Deep Breaths.”
“I apologize for the confusion- I was just trying to explain that the last time I saw him, neither of us were in particularly sound state of minds-”
“KENOBI YOU ARE DOING THIS ON PURPOSE AND WE ALL KNOW IT JUST GET TO THE PART WHERE SKYWALKER FALLS INSTEAD OF DRAGGING IT OUT”
"KOTH!”
- - - - -
“...Things were fine. Things were- hopeful. Dooku was gone. We got word on Grevious’s location. I was assigned to go after him. Anakin wanted to come with me, to watch my back. He didn’t want to stay on Coruscant. The council- the council ordered him to spy on the Chancellor. He protested, was uncomfortable with the idea. But he agreed. We made some jokes as we were saying goodbyes. I left Coruscant. Got to Utatpau. Killed Grevious. Thought the war was over. The force got dark. I was shot off a cliff. All the Jedi were dying. My bond with Anakin got dark. My troops felt- like strangers. When I got back Yoda told me he- he was lost to the darkside. Was the new apprentice. Palpatine claimed the Jedi tried to assassinate him. I don’t- actually understood what happened, it was all just a few days... but I have to assume Palpatine...or the person who was controlling Palpatine! Please adi’ka, you know I-
“I know, Master. It’s...Kriff- I don’t- I’m sorry.”
“We shouldn’t have split up. I shouldn’t have left you.
“Obi-Wan...you can’t actually blame yourself for what I did, what I- haven’t done, technically"
“I...”
“Well. That explains-”
“Explains, what Master Gallia? Explains why we shouldn’t have allowed an elderly politician unrestrained access to a child?”
“Master! Don’t say it like that-”
“That explains your stalling Master Kenobi, be at peace. We’re not going to judge Knight Skywalker for unknown actions he has yet to take.”
“Mace! are you all right?”
“Headache. Talk about it later.”
“Tell us who may fall, you did. Judge them prematurely, we shall not. Watch them carefully, we will.”
“...With all do respect I’m not sure the council is capable of meaningfully distinguishing between the two.’
“Master Kenobi! Perhaps we should revisit the ‘attachment’ discussion we had previously agreed to forestall?”
“Oh that is such-”
“Anakin, please allow me. Mundi- shut up or let us read the note.”
“Master Koon!”
“For all the distress being vented, I feel there is a notable lack of compassion in this room and quite frankly I find it unacceptable.”
- - - - -
“So...you didn’t watch the security holograms?”
“Yoda said not to. I think that’s everything- we should start brain scans now.”
“Kenobi...”
“Yes?”
“When Yoda was fighting Palpatine...”
“Master Gallia- not right now”
“Yes, Master Windu.”
“. . .”
“Force Be With Us.”
“Indeed.”
“Quite.”
“Hm.”
“Council Members- if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to get back to the archives. I have a few things I’d like to dig into.”
“Of course. We trust your discretion.”
“Take care of yourself, Obi-Wan”
“You as well, Master Nu. I am forever in your debt for what you brought me.”
“I’ll remember that.”
“...Now what?”
“It’s going to break our ‘contract’ with the Kamonian’s but...we’re going to have to get a clone into the healing halls for a neurological examination.”
“I...might be able to help with that. Without going very far at all actually.”
“What do you mean by that, Master Eerin?”
“Sorry, terribly sorry, I just remembered I have to take care of something-”
“What?”
“This...is rather the part we were hoping for your assistance Vokara-”
“Stay, Master Che. Given everything- I think we’re past the point of needing plausible deniability.”
“You’re... most likely right. Apologies, force of habit.”
“Would either of you care to explain?”
“Well...technically the temple isn’t allowed to care for wounded clones. Doing so would violate their ‘warranty’. However...”
Part XIX
#star wars#my au#suicidal misunderstanding au#star wars au no 27#time travel#star wars au#star wars fanfiction
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New Endeavours
Characters: Modern AU!Kylo Ren x Female Reader
Words: 2k
Warnings/Tags: Explicit (18+), Sugar daddy relationship, sexual references but no actual smut, bisexual vibes, attending a strip club.
Author’s Note: This is all because of my love, @maryforyou. An AU venture she ignited and I couldn’t let go of. Read into this however you want, I’m an open book in terms of exploring sexuality without labels. Being the first AU I’ve ever attempted, I kept this as an intro, to hopefully dive into the more explicit content I’ve been ruminating on for too long as a Part 2 (depending on how this is received).
*
“Are you sure this what you want?”
You smiled sweetly, smoothing out the creases in your dress as Kylo handed you your coat and gloves. “Like I said every day this week, I’m very sure.”
He still appeared doubtful, plush lips twisted in a disbelieving frown. “I could give you anything your heart desires for your birthday, princess,” he urged, helping you to secure the top buttons of your waistcoat, his large frame shifting close to yours. “This barely seems like enough of a gift for such a special occasion.”
Kylo was used to showering you with physical symbols of his adoration in the 18 months you had known him. The man had more money than he knew what to do with, lavishing all types of jewellery and clothing on you, some of the pieces you were certain cost more than your tiny apartment in the outskirts of the city. Every time you tried to refuse the extravagant gifts, Kylo always replied with sweetened notions of needing to worship and adore the personified goddess he saw you as. And when spoken in his infuriatingly mesmerising tenor, they would quickly conquer your resistance.
You were acutely aware of what this looked like from an outside perspective. A wealthy older man courting a young woman over 10 years his junior. Bathing her head to toe in the finest attire, parading her around in places a woman of her standing wouldn’t have been able to afford in two lifetimes.
A label came with this kind of behaviour. One you didn’t particularly like, yet was still true.
Sugar daddy.
There wasn’t a way you could deny that’s how your association with Kylo begun.
You’d heard whispers of other girls at the college you went to doing it. Offering their bodies to the affluent men of this city. At first, you’d scoffed at the idea. But when that third overdue notice of your credit card debt came, with the threat of eviction hanging over your head, you didn’t really have much choice.
A name was given to you of a bar that specialised in these kinds of meetings, completely covertly of course. And there Kylo had found you, hiding away in a secluded corner, stirring the gin and tonic in front of you with a single finger. At first, you’d assumed he was a well-dressed bartender, seemingly too young and strikingly handsome to be in need of a place like this. So you smiled sweetly and told him you weren’t quite done with your drink.
Within such an innocent interaction, Kylo knew he had to have you. And he did, 45 minutes later in the poorly lit bathroom stall, half-dressed bodies clutched together as he had you perch on the porcelain sink, fucking you with an uncharacteristically reckless abandon.
He hadn’t intended to. He hadn’t been entirely sure what he anticipated from that evening, the recommendation being given to him from a higher executive who regularly partook in the questionable operations of this establishment. Kylo meant only to scope the place out, sit for a quiet solitary drink out of the way of other patrons. There, he’d discovered you.
Shrinking into your stool, somewhat inhibited, clearly out of your element. The shy smile that spread across your face after he murmured a stiff hello ensnared him in moments, simply for how sincere it was. He wasn’t used to that.
Another thing Kylo wasn’t used to was the type of electricity that followed in your conversation. Rarely had he experienced an exchange that was so charged yet… genuine. You didn’t appear expectant, didn’t care to know how much money he made or the status of his career. You simply wanted to talk.
It was interesting how this fuelled an urge to make you speechless, to have you resorting to whines and whimpers rather than articulate your thoughts with any words. He didn’t act on them. Content to bide his time, play his cards right, set a precedence of composure and restraint in the hope of securing another meeting. You, however, had never cultivated the same type of discipline Kylo had.
After too many long minutes of flirtatious banter, you leaned forward, mouthing in a hushed tone, asking him to meet you in the women’s bathroom.
The chance encounter had bound you for longer than predicted.
Although never explicitly stated, the two of you fulfilled a portion of each other’s needs. Kylo required adequate distraction from his corporate life, someone who could slip into his erratic schedule with ease to… relieve him of mounting tension. In return, he provided you the monetary means to live in the city of your dreams without constant fear of homelessness.
In the months that passed, your arrangement turned into something stable, secure. His presence a constant in your life. While his working hours were long and finishing times unpredictable, Kylo could always count on you to be summoned to him from a single text message. Be it in the middle of the day, or the early hours of morning, you would race to a place of his choosing. Sometimes at his lush apartment, sometimes his office, and a plethora of restaurant bathrooms across the city after particularly stressful business lunches.
Initially, your involvement was kept mostly out of public view. Kylo had wanted to protect you from the judgements and negative connotations that were unavoidable in the arena of his work. Around the year mark, these reservations about being seen with you seemed to dissipate. Soon you were linked hand in hand at countless high-class dinners and charity events. A poised and elegant couple, right until the last set of eyes moved away.
This is where you had your fun.
As spectacular as Kylo was at fucking you until you saw stars, he’d surprisingly gone this long in life without venturing into more creative territory when it came to satisfaction. His version of sex was fast and hard, needing as much as you as he could get, chasing release with no frills or diversion. He’d never had the time, or the right lover, to encourage any of his deeply hidden fantasies. Until you.
You were game for anything. Sexually adventurous. Ready and willing to try all there was on offer just to elicit the highest levels of ecstasy. It was difficult not to be at the thought of Kylo’s hands, his mouth, his tongue, any part of him.
Although a little more slowly, he began to welcome new experiences, new pursuits of pleasure. Witnessing your reactions to these efforts became somewhat of an addiction for him. The way you writhed and squealed when exploring anal play for the first time. The way you surrendered and adored his verbal degradation and physical strikes. The way your body twitched and spasmed after the use of a newly obtained toy purchased with his platinum credit card.
You never pushed him, or forced him into anything he found uncomfortable in the chase of a sexual high. Communication was paramount, and boundaries were respected.
Interestingly enough, tonight was a boundary he never thought you’d cross.
“This is what I asked for, remember?” you smiled, taking the opportunity to press a gentle kiss to his nose.
Kylo’s apprehension refused to dissipate, while still clutching you closer. “It just… seems like this is something I will enjoy more than you.”
You barely withheld the urge to roll your eyes. “You’re sure about that, are you?”
His eyebrows crinkled, thinking the question over. There was the hint of a smirk that tugged the corner of his mouth, a subtle excited quiver in the breath he exhaled. “So you’re not doing this for me?”
“Not at all,” you breathed. Your palm slipped under his clean-shaven jaw, skating a thumb reassuringly over his cheek. “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”
“You have?”
You hummed a yes, drifting your lips intoxicatingly close to his, staring up with wide eyes.
Kylo’s mouth twisted slightly. “I wouldn’t want you to feel jealous, princess.”
“You’re only looking,” you insisted softly. “And, even if you touch a little…” You bit your lip at the thought. “Those women won’t be who gets to be taken home and fucked until it hurts.”
There was a noticeable tensing in the arms circled around you, as Kylo’s eyes began to burn with an impatient greed. “I could do that now, right against this door.”
It was difficult to deny how you’d happily allow him to make true on that statement. To slam you into the exquisitely carved oak door of his apartment and fill you to your absolute limit. However, the tantalising image of your planned evening was too consuming, heaving and tugging for you to indulge a deeply embedded desire you’d never been brave enough to pursue.
“Save it for when we get home,” you chirped, reaching for the doorhandle and dragging Kylo into the hallway.
*
“Follow me,” the maître D instructed, her voice cheerfully welcoming. Even the sight of her silken, green dress was intimidating, the fabric glossing over her nimble shape as she guided you up the set of stairs. The lighting was low, almost too dark to see properly, Kylo’s grip strong as your steps were drowned out by the sultry music emanating behind the double doors at the apex. As they were opened to you, the hypnotic baseline ricocheted around your body.
You scanned around the large room, bold lights illuminating a risen stage with two currently unused silver poles at either corner. Plush chairs circled around, occupied by a differing array of men. Slinking between the patrons were women decorated with luxurious, high-end lingerie, each one styled and set to provoke unyielding temptation.
This was a completely new undertaking for you. Attending a strip club. Usually a male endeavour, seeking out instant gratification in the form of scantily clad bodies and paid attention. You knew this was an unusual request for a birthday outing, yet in truth there was nothing from Kylo you wanted more.
The two reasons were somewhat opposing, although they would still feed the same goal. Satisfying a craving.
One being that you had always found women to be alluring and captivating to a height you’d never really accepted, almost been afraid of. Only with time and maturity had you learned your attraction to them was a natural occurrence you were now ready to explore.
The other reason was a little more scandalous, and what you hadn’t quite articulated to Kylo yet. To have the view of his eyes roaming another woman’s almost naked body as she exposed herself to him, drove you wild. In a situation you should feel jealousy, you were only devoured by an uncontainable lust.
Occasionally your mind had forayed into imaginations where he would take another like he’d taken you countless times, able to watch his hands clawing at supple breasts, the smooth motion of his hips, how his thick cock would split a tight, dripping cunt in two. All the while he would deride and goad you, layering you with taunts, desperate to inflame your envy and ownership.
Your plan for this particular evening didn’t extend that far. You only wished to enjoy the performance of mesmeric women in their most enchanting form, observe Kylo’s undeniable arousal at the same lithe, flexible bodies, and return home to remind him that only you could ignite the billowing flames of a violent release.
Oh, but that plan crumbled when you’d each settled into your seats, just in time for the next show of seduction. A pair of glittered, platform heels slinked near to the pole closest to you, your vision roaming upwards over the statuesque figure they connected to. Delicately laced, ivory fabric shielded her most intimate portions from full view, conforming flawlessly to the curves of her figure. Somehow demure yet indecently sensual.
Lips parted, your breath hitched as the exquisite woman twirled around, her eyes trained to you as she let a wicked smile appear. You were sure this was a regular occurrence, a flirtation she expressed to all the patrons in this room. Yet, as she began to move in time with the decadent beat of the music, her eyes stayed transfixed to you marvelling stare.
In an unprecedented display of courage, you beckoned Kylo closer to you, whispering to his ear. “Her. That’s what I really want for my birthday.”
*To be continued*
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The Torricelli Secret: Chapter 1
| MASSIMO |
"we're sorry but we only managed to recover only 12 percent of your family's interest"
Scoffing, I looked over to the Filthy American man my father had agreed to do business with. I never liked Americans because his people were the ones that had killed my father.
"You strongly recommended this investment to us"
This conversation just wants me to blow this man's head off more and more.
Arching a brow I finally spoke as I was only listening, "It is impossible. I want a refund and 10 percent interest, End of conversation"
He looked at me appauled, "This is America if you haven't noticed"
rolling my tongue on the inside of my cheek I stood up from out of my chair slowly and started to walk around the table.
"You know I'm not from taking aggressive costumers"
The American was about to speak again but I shushed him up with a nasty glare. "If you keep interrupting me I'll have my men blow your brains out or better yet I'll do the job myself"
That's what finally shut him up.
Walking over to his chair slowly I spoke again, "You gave my family your word, You have this game in America Trick or Treat"
Touching the back of his chair I moved on to the blonde American woman sitting beside him. "And you, I thought that regarding sexual preferences nothing would surprise me but you proved me wrong"
I now rested my body back on the chair she was sitting on, "Your husband. What would he say about that? Your loving husband?"
They were both quiet but I wasn't finished with this conversation since they both gladly wanted it to continue earlier.
"and your children? Shareholders? Should I keep talking?"
Shaking her head I finally went back over to my chair and leaned my hands on the table towering over the two.
"after a week the bank shares you both have will lose half of their value"
"I will buy a bank for a month in one month, only for this... to fire you"
They were both restraining themselves from arguing due to my men keeping them in line. That's one benefit of being a mob boss, You have people for everything.
The American men finally had the balls to say something again much to his dismay.
"but what about my money?"
I rolled my eyes, I didn't want to continue this conference any further because it was obviously not getting anywhere that I wanted it to.
"You both are dismissed now leave"
Both of the lousy Americans stood up to protest but my men had gotten them faster before they could and dragged them out of the room.
Sitting back down in my chair I scoffed.
'Stupidi Americani Sporchi'
Translation: "Stupid filthy Americans"
(time has passed)
Heading into the airport there were many people buzzing around the car. I don't like to be kept waiting so I was becoming frustrated.
Slamming my phone shut I swore at the driver, "Che cazzo ci vuole così tanto tempo Che ho affari a cui partecipare"
Translation: "What the fuck is taking so long I have business to attend to"
"Un sacco di traffico signore"
Translation: "lots of traffic sir"
I clenched my jaw and put my sunglasses back on, "non mi piace essere tenuto ad aspettare"
Translation: "I don't like to be kept waiting"
The driver spoke his apologies and I went back to staring outside the window just watching people pass by.
as the hour passed by before we eventually started to leave I saw a woman walking past.
Turning my head towards her I took my shades off of my face, She was etheral just like a goddess.
It seemed as if she sensed my staring because she looked and made eye contact with me as our car pulled away. She had a suitcase in one hand and watched us drive off into the distance.
(time has passed)
Domenico spoke after what felt like decades of silence.
"fratello?"
Translation: "Brother?"
I turned my head towards him to let him know I was listening.
"Chi era Quello?"
Interrupting him before he said anything further I had spoken, "Annulla I'incontro di cui abbiamo un'attività più importante di cui occuparci"
Translation: "Cancel the meeting we have more important business to take care of"
A/N: how's the first chapter? Let me know your thoughts on it and make sure to vote!
#massimotorricellixoc#madskaban#massimo torricelli fanfic#michelemarrone#365daysfanfic#massimo#mafia au#italianmafia
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