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currymanganese · 11 months ago

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Will Carmy leave the culinary world?

I know based on Carmy's current disillusionment with the restaurant world that this is a question that us fans have been asking ourselves, but here are some reasons why I think that Carmy will stay in the food service industry in some capacity, or at least why I'm hoping that he will.

Carmy loves the family restaurant:

First and foremost, Carmy does have a love for his family's business and for cooking, despite the burnout that he has been experiencing he defends the restaurant against his sister's scorn for The Beef and Uncle Jimmy's desire to purchase it in season one. Also, note that in his first onscreen face to face conversation with his sister, Via Chicago by Wilco plays in the background, and the tortured lyrics ultimately end by speaking of searching for home,

-and inter-cut with this scene, Marcus and Richie highlight an effective change Carmy has made to the restaurant (organizing the spice rack). The scene deliberately extends to have Gary tell Fak his REAL NAME while the song in the background says, "printed my name on a back of a leaf and watched it float away..." while Marcus finds a keepsake from Carmy's fine dining days / James Beard Award win that references, "Fairest Creatures", a phrase from Shakespeare's Sonnet 1 which is part of a

series of sonnets which urge a young man to marry and have children so that his legacy will live on. It is almost as if the narrative is telling us that Carmy's real name/identity is being a world class chef, not the harried, downtrodden line cook / small business owner we see him as at the beginning of the pilot, but this identity has temporarily eluded him. It also reinforces what Sydney said about him during her character introduction, when she told him that she knows who he is, "Most excellent CDC at the most excellent restaurant in the entire United States of America".

In a literal sense, the restaurant currently is Carmy's home away from home, even more-so than his sparse apartment, it is also his family legacy, and apart from his love for his family, the restaurant, and cooking by extension, is quite likely his "first love". He outright tells Jimmy that he loves the place in his conversation in Hot Dogs at Nicky's birthday party, and during his business pitch in "Beef" in S2;

"I love this place. I love this city. I wanna start our first business here."

He also doesn't deny it when Richie asserts that he loves the restaurant when Richie has the conversation about purpose with him also in "Beef", he just lets slip that the business is not fun for him presently, but as with many things, that can be subject to change in the future, especially if the restaurant presents him with the opportunity to have a home and a family of his own, and a legacy to give his own child or children someday! Now, don't get me wrong, a major component for Carmy's original love for the restaurant and for cooking was motivated by his love for Mikey, however, I believe that over the course of the series that Carmy may cement his love for the place and for his identity/ vocation as a chef even though he no longer has Mikey as his reference, his North Star. He may very well find even more reasons to love being a chef and to love the place that Nat and Jimmy, and his mom, and even Mikey once found unlovable.

2. Divestment and gifting of belongings, especially belongings that one is emotionally attached to is often a symptom of suicidal depression:

This may be TMI, but I first learned this as a child because my father was suicidal, he also even attempted once, but was thankfully unsuccessful, but one of the things my mother taught me and my siblings to be wary of is when he gives away clothing (he loves clothes). I know that Carmy giving Tina his chef knife in Season 2 is probably not meant to indicate that he is depressed, but I would be concerned if Carmy checks out of the business entirely to the point that he completely gives his stake in the restaurant up to Sydney or something of that nature, since, see point one above, he does love the restaurant, despite the strain that it causes. If Carmy continues giving away stuff that he loves in Season 3 onward I'd be very concerned.

I also believe this mental health symptom of suicidal depression was subtly illustrated in the pilot of Season one "System"; the jacket that Mikey gave Carmy, the one that it is implied that Carmy ended up selling to keep The Beef stocked and afloat, why did Natalie have it if Mikey gave it to Carmy? I believe that Mikey may have let Carmy know that he wanted him to have the jacket before he committed suicide, as in, Mikey divested himself of the jacket, just like in death he ultimately divested himself of the $300,000 from Uncle Jimmy and the restaurant itself. Knowing that, I don't see Carmy having an easy time walking away from the restaurant, regardless of if it is to pursue his artistic passions, even if he wants to...And also, as Carmy expressed in his monologue in Braciole, there's artistry in cooking and it is a subset of art that Carmy has become quite proficient in.

3. Carmy is competitive, but we still haven't seen him at the apex of his talents as a chef onscreen in the show so far:

Carmy was once so competitive in the culinary world that he viewed his coworkers in an antagonistic light to such a degree that he was determined to be so excellent at his craft that he "smoked" them and showed them up by comparison...He essentially becomes a master in his profession, despite his lack of academic /collegiate instruction in the culinary arts, through sheer spite for Mikey (as he expressed in his monologue in Braciole), for making him feel,

"...so rejected, and lame, and shitty, and uncool...."

-and out of spite/disdain for his coworkers. Although he is now far less anti-social and presumably has a healthier attitude towards competition, what would happen to someone with Carmy's competitive mentality if he quits the industry?

What healthy outlet does he have to be competitive to the extent that he can "be the fucking guy" and be the best at what he does, and to quite frankly be (in his own estimation, most importantly) cool? What happens to him (if he quits being a chef) the first time he walks into a restaurant and orders a meal, sits down to eat it and finds the dish shitty? What happens to him when he can't turn off the intuition that he has honed from years of self study where he can figure out how to improve a dish just off of one taste, like he did with Syd's braised Beef Short Ribs? As @thoughtfulchaos773 mentioned to me, we still haven't seen a moment where Carmy is confident and in control AND having fun while he is gelling with the rest of the crew in the kitchen, like Richie had while on expo in the season 2 finale.

If he quits being a chef, when will he get to "be the fucking guy" that Uncle Jimmy has been admonishing him to be? Because on some level he does indeed want to be that guy; he even watches Pasta Grannies in his free time, he doesn't suddenly stop being that kind of guy even if he quits, and I daresay that cooking may actually be some sort of special interest for him, which leads me to my next point:

4. Carmy may have to get into some form of further studies if he wants to pursue visual arts intensively, whether at a tertiary level or through some vocational program or as someone's understudy:

Whether it's visual or performing arts, the arts are quite difficult to get into and be successful in at a high level, and Carmy may have to undergo some retraining in order to have a competitive chance in that field, whether as an independent artist or whether he works under another artist or for a studio or fashion house etc., especially since the business administration aspect of his current job seems to be a challenge for him. However, since Carmy expressed that he had trouble in school and there were also instances where he seemed to struggle with executive dysfunction in season 2, the possibility exists that Carmy has ADHD or some learning disability that may complicate such a prospective career switch. It wouldn't be impossible for him, mind you, but this is a factor that also potentially influenced him, if not outright prevented him from going to college or pursuing another field. He'd need a lot of privilege and support to make such a career shift successfully.

Barring some assistance from connections and friends in high places (a la - his implied friendship with Thom Browne) it is unlikely that his current artistic skill level in sketching/illustration (that we have seen thus far anyway), that is either self-taught or based on his high school education, would be enough to get him very far as a visual artist. From seeing some of my artistically talented relatives struggle to make it as performance and visual artists, the arts can be very cutthroat, nepotistic and stressful industries to break into. The starving/obscure artist is an international stereotype for a reason, one of my grandfathers was even a struggling multi-instrumentalist for example; it can be quite rough out there in the art world!

Which brings me to my next point;

5. If Carmy continues to avoid dealing with the root of his traumas and does not process his grief and address his mental health issues, even if Carmy switches career, the next industry that he's in will still proverbially beat his ass:

As part owner of The Bear, Carmy has the opportunity and freedom to not just realize his own creative vision, but he also has the liberty to make it (along with Syd and Nat's and the entire crew's help) so that the restaurant is, to quote Sydney, "different from all the other places we've been at." He now has the power to make it so that, as much as possible, the restaurant is not the toxic, abusive, soul sucking enterprise that had him vomiting every day before his shift when he worked under the abusive executive chef (implied to be) at EMP. If Carmy cedes his place at The Bear, he is not guaranteed to have the same level of autonomy in another field, even as a visual artist, and the arts (or any other industry he may move on to) are riddled with challenges and injustices and struggles of their own.

While it would probably not be the intent of the creators if they do depict him leaving the culinary industry someday, in a way Carmy quitting being a chef could also be seen as a repudiation of Sydney's conviction that The Beef, now The Bear, doesn't have to be a shitty place to work at. If Syd and Carmy succeed at making it a great place to work at, shouldn't he be able to enjoy that for himself as well?

6. This show is many things, it's a study of the way grief and trauma shapes a person, it's about family, surviving family trauma surrounding addiction, and love, it's very loosely autobiographical, it's a genre bending dramedy, but so far it has also been a love letter to the food service industry and food service workers:

This is just my opinion, but wouldn't it be a somewhat tepid love letter to the food service industry/worker if the protagonist leaves the very industry that has made him who he is thus far, and that has even brought (in my opinion, don't kill me) his soulmate (Sydney) into his life at the end of the story? After the showrunners took the care to have two bottle episodes where supporting cast members gained fresh perspectives on their roles in the food service industry (Marcus in Honeydew and Richie in Forks) - we are even shown Richie (like Sydney with Coach K's "Leading with the Heart") reading and internalizing the book, "Unreasonable Hospitality" by Will Guidara.

To quote the author's website:

"Today, every business can choose to be in the hospitality industry — and you don't have to be a luxury business to do it. This book of lessons about both service and leadership learned over a career in hospitality celebrates the one principle that will never go out of season: the human desire to be taken care of. In this behind-the-scenes peek at the world of fine dining, Guidara shows us how to find the magic in what we do — for ourselves, the people we work with, and the people we serve."

As a result, I think Marcus and Richie's character arcs in season 2 foreshadowed the possibility of Carmy having a similar transformation on his current outlook on the restaurant and his place and purpose in it. It is also important to note that potential love interests served as mouthpieces to aid Marcus and Richie's perspective shifts in Honeydew and Forks, Luca for Marcus and Jess for Richie; while they weren't there as the sole reasons for Marcus and Richie's renewed appreciation for what they do in the restaurant, they were there to witness and assist with their character development and renewal.

With this in mind, how do you think learning that he prepared the best meal Sydney ever ate in her life, when he was at one of his lowest points mentally / professionally would affect Carmy? Would he really want to walk away from the field and vocation that helped him to win over / woo Sydney before he even met her, when he learns that this is effectively what brought her to his doorstep in the first place, not The Beef, not her Dad, not Mikey, not his prestige as a chef, but him and his cooking? I think that over the course of the show that Carmy has to learn to (to reference the aforementioned books) lead from his heart, and to rediscover the magic in what he does as a chef.

7. One of Carmy's struggles is loneliness and isolation, he may be even lonelier if he leaves The Bear behind:

Realistically speaking, the food service industry is a high stress industry that makes high demands on workers' time, with that in mind, how will he maintain his relationships with those who we have seen become his surrogate family members in the crew if he walks away from The Bear permanently? Let's say he becomes an independent visual artist, being self employed can be a lonesome experience. Also, loneliness itself can also cause dissatisfaction with one's job, does he really no longer think he is cut out for work as a chef, or is his loneliness one of the factors that brought him to a psychological/emotional tipping point at the end of season 2? From my own experience with losing my job at the end of last year, switching careers or leaving behind a job can, in an of itself, be a very isolating experience - especially if you were emotionally attached to your job or befriended your colleagues. If Carmy's loneliness is one of the biggest things he wants to escape, leaving The Bear isn't going to automatically make it possible to form the connections and the work/life balance that he is yearning for deep down inside.

8. If Carmy walks away from the restaurant, what happens to his partnership with Sydney?

After all, he was the one to convince her to partner up with him to start a new place. Worse yet, Carmy is heavily implied to be in love with Sydney, how will he have the opportunity to make something of that fondness for her or maintain a romantic relationship with her if he does start a relationship with her, if he leaves? He won't be there to try to make good on his promise to not let her fail, he won't see the highs and lows of her days BOH, their relationship just would not be the same. The disparity between professions and the high constraints on their time was also one factor that would have made it difficult for Carmy to maintain the relationship with Claire in the long run.

As such, it is common for persons in the food service industry and in other fields where it is common to work long hours, to get around this hurdle to proper work/life balance, by simply having their personal lives heavily intertwined with their work. It's common for persons in the food service industry to meet their spouses and partners at work and to continue to work with them. This is even referenced in season 2 which featured the husband and wife owned and operated restaurant, Kasama, and also with the butcher that mentions that he is in business with his wife to Sydney, after they lost their restaurant due to an untrustworthy partner.

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So which will Carmy ultimately be to Sydney, just a partner that ultimately walks away from their shared vision and venture and goes it alone with his own career, even if it is for the sake of his mental health? Or will he be her partner in multiple senses of the word? Does he really "wouldn't even wanna do it without" her in a literal sense or will he walk away from The Bear? I'm hoping that he stays, or that even if he leaves that they leave together, and that they leave to greener pastures. Remember that Carmy told Jimmy that he wanted to open their "first restaurant" there at The Bear, imagine if they yield the restaurant to Tina, Richie and Nat someday and start another venture elsewhere or start publishing cookbooks together or become food television personalities, like Carmy saw himself as in his nightmare in Braciole, but in a positive twist?

Also keep in mind that when asked about the possibility of there being a romance between Syd and Carmy, Christopher Storer has gone on record to cryptically say about the two of them:

"It's a partnership, you'll see......."

9. Carmy is not a one to one analogue for Christopher Storer:

While Christopher Storer left the food service industry and entered the film industry as a writer/producer and director, and Carmy and his family is loosely based on Christopher Storer and his sister's life, there are some deviations from C Storer's life that make Carmy's character and story unique. Carmy is a youngest child, Storer is the eldest child in his family. Apart from having a cigarette addiction, Carmy is sober, but C Storer struggled with alcohol and substance abuse before he met his partner Gillian Jacobs. Storer is currently no contact with his mother who is an addict, but it remains to be seen what decision Carmy will ultimately make concerning his relationship with his mother, Donna. At the very least it seems that Nat wants her to be a part of their life still. This might be superficial, but Carmy is also short and Christopher is tall, here he is standing between Ebon Moss-Bachrach and Lionel Boyce who are roughly, 6' and 6' 3" respectively.

I'd be more confident that Carmy would leave the food service industry if he was more of an author stand-in for Christopher than Jeremy Allen White's depiction of Carmy currently is. Perhaps Carmy will represent the chef that Storer would have liked to work under or become if he remained in the culinary industry. And perhaps Mikey represents the person that Storer saw himself becoming if he did not meet Gillian Jacobs and become sober? Based on the earliest drafts of The Bear I know that Carmy and Sydney were supposed to more closely resemble Storer and his relationship with his sister Courtney, who is still a chef and is a culinary consultant on the show. However, since the story has changed so much after JAW and Ayo's casting, to the point that Carmy and Syd's relationship if rife with romantic subtext, then it'd make sense for me if Carmy remaining a chef is one more area where his life is not just a mimicry of Christopher Storer's.

TL;DR - I don't think Carmy will quit the culinary industry or The Bear, or at least I hope that he won't and here's why:

Carmy loves the restaurant.

Divestment of beloved belongings is sometimes a symptom of suicidal depression.

Carmy is a competitive person, being a chef gives him a healthy outlet to compete and to execute well at a high level, and we have yet to see this side of him/his full potential as a chef onscreen.

Carmy will require retraining to work in another field, even if he wants to do visual arts full time.

If Carmy keeps avoiding dealing with his mental health issues, a job in a different industry will still be a challenge for him.

The show is a love letter to the food service industry, Carmy leaving the industry someday will defeat the purpose of the show in a way, and would mark a departure from the trend of character progression where we've seen the supporting cast find renewed purpose in the industry.

Since Carmy suffers from loneliness, it is likely that he'll be even lonelier if he leaves The Bear.

His partnership with Sydney and his possible desire for a romance with her may suffer or become less likely to occur if he leaves.

And lastly, Carmy is not completely based on Christopher Storer's life, just because Storer left the food industry doesn't mean that he intends for Carmy to do so by series end.

Thanks for reading this through if you've made it to the end, and a big thank you for listening to me jaw on about all of this and convincing me to write it out @thoughtfulchaos773 !

P.S. Happy New Year everyone! 💃🏽

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rodolfoparras · 1 year ago

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Confident price who loves to tease the young new recruit by rubbing his ass on the recruits crotch, bending down in front of him etc

Hear me out old man price fully aware that the much younger recruit wants him, and goes out his way to tease you just to make you flustered

Imagine price always offering himself to be your spotter when you’re practicing at the shooting range

He’d be standing a bit further away, arms crossed, face neutral and tone ever so professional as he relays his feedback to you. But it wouldn’t take long before his eager hands found yours, calloused fingers helping you adjust your grip on the trigger while making sure to presses his chest flush against your back, hot breath raising goosebumps on your skin and coarse beard hair rubbing against your ear while whispering the words

”steady there sergeant” when noticing that your hands are shaking

He’d always offer to spare you “Let an old man teach you how it’s done” he’d say with a smirk on his face only to pin you down, while straddling your chest, his cock basically shoved in your face while grinning down at you even going as far as purposefully grinding down onto your chest when trying to get up

He’d even come up to you before an award ceremony and help you get ready since he cant have one of his soldiers looking like a mess imagine the innocent look on his face as he helps you adjust the collar of your shirt, hands dragging along your chest to smooth out the nonexistent creases imagine him helping you put your jacket on, chest flush against your back hot breath in your ear while his fingers brush off the nonexistent dust from your sleeves, imagine the little once over he’d give you while gettin the finishing touches done even going as far hooking his finger onto your belt loops while leering up at you

But here’s the fucking plot twist, captain price has a wife and you only find out about it when a lady comes up to you asking to see him. You quickly lead her to his office where you’re met with price who looks as calm and collected as ever, even sporting a small smile on his face, his usual bare ring finger adorned in a wedding band and in full view for you to see as he pulls her into his embrace, the words “well hello there love” easily rolling off of his tongue all while holding your gaze

#sorrry for the late reply anonie I was feeling meh last night and went to bed #thank you for sliding in I love when y’all talk about price with me #Alec answers #John price #John price x reader #John price x male reader #captain John price #captain John price x reader #captain John price x male reader #sub male reader #dom male character #top male reader #bottom male character

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coleskingdom · 6 months ago

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Cold

Jay White x f reader

NSFW Minors DNI 18+

For @madhatterbri you wanted jealous the man is United Empire green. Thank you @midwestmade29 for reading and going back and forth with me.

“You look fantastic. What are your plans with Skye tonight?” as Jay helped clasp the necklace as I put on lipgloss. “Honestly not sure, she just said we were going out for dinner and drinks. It’ll be fun.” knowing the question coming next. “Is old golden boy and his boyfriend going out joining you and Skye this evening ?” I roll my eyes in the mirror looking at him “Honestly I’m not sure, but if you weren’t t so grumpy you should come with me.” smiling sweetly. “No thanks but if you want to stay in, I can think of a few things more interesting than taking dinner and drinks.” his beard tickling me as he leaned into kiss my neck. “ Jay, I’m looking forward to this , but those interesting ideas I want to hear about them when I get back.” Pulling away and heading out the door.

Of course my luck would have it that Will and Kyle both were there. I tried to relax as I sat next to Skye, “You okay” she asked a bit of concern in her voice, “Yeah I’m alright, but I can already feel my phone going off.” Sighing reaching for my phone. Answering the FaceTime, “Hey, what’s up?” my voice cheerful, “How’s dinner? How’s Skye?” his voice too cheerful “We’re good, here with Kyle and Will” my voice hesitant but Skye leaned in “Hey Jay” Skyes voice “I’ve got our girl and I’ll get her home safe tonight.” I could tell from his quick answer back that he wasn’t thrilled . He let her go, and Skye handed me back the phone. “Shake it off. Have some fun.” ordering another round for the table. Dinner was so much fun, and I agreed to go out dancing with them. I dance with Kyle , Skye and Will when some girl spilled her drink on my top. “Hey take my jacket, go clean up in the bathroom.” Will stripping off his jacket. “ Thanks I appreciate it more than you know. Whatever it was. It’s sticky “ taking it gratefully. I went to the bathroom and changed glancing at my phone.

Jay-

You didn’t mention anything about spending the night grinding on Will.

I found Skye “ Hey I’m gonna go, I need to get home.” she hugged me, “Go home and get your man” I laughed half heartedly.

I was outside the door of the house when I realized that I was in Wills jacket, the united empire green with the Billy goat symbol. I had no choice but to walk in.

“Sweetheart there you are coming home in your new lovers jacket” the bottle of scotch on the table nearly empty . “Jay a girl spilled her drink on me. Will offered me his jacket that’s all.” my voice calm. “Did he lick you clean?” the jealous tone maddening. “ Yes Jay, he took off my shirt in the middle of the club, and licked my chest. Then I got to wear his jacket as a prize.” throwing my wet shirt and bra at him.

“Bravo, the award for pretending that she didn’t enjoy grinding on Golden Boy goes to you my dear.” Raising his glass to me. I reach for it “Your obsessed with this thing with Will. Is that what you want to see me fuck him Jay while you watch? Do you want me to take him in my mouth? Do you want me to straddle him and ride him all night ? Since you already think he licked me what if he puts my knees to my shoulders and just ruins me. Which is it?” looking him dead in the eyes as I drink his scotch.

I saw the flash in his eyes before he was on me. “There she is my little vixen. No the only one that gets any of that is me. “ He kisses me roughly , his mouth tastes of the scotch , his hands threaded through my hair holding me to him. Releasing me his hands reach for the zipper of the jacket, pulling it down and throwing it in the floor. I moan as his mouth finds my neck tilting my head giving him better access as one of his hands grips the back of the neck walking us backwards. My ass hits the back of the dining room table,as his hands now focus on the buttons of my jeans. My hands going to the hem of his shirt pulling it off of him. He let me run my hands over him and kissing him, the man was intoxicating. “I’m going to give you something golden boy could never .” I bite his lower lip “ Shut up about him and fuck me.” a low growl in his chest. “That’s it darling girl tell me, tell me what you want.” His breath against my ear my nipples hard against his body. “Turn around” the heat in his voice sends a jolt of desire through me. I do as he asks my bare torso against the cold wood of the table. He finishes pulling off my jeans and panties as I spread my legs a little bit further apart, and arch my back at him. My lips part as I feel the first slide of his fingers. “You’ve been thinking about this, the question is which one of us gets you this wet?” His fingers moving faster, then disappear from my body. “I asked you who Sweetheart?” I feel his cock pressed against my entrance “Jay it’s always been and will forever be you “ I moan as he slides all the way in.

This is the Jay White of the early days in the ring and in our relationship. The seemingly cold, volatile arrogant bastard who intrigued me like no one else, who took me where and when he wanted, with no apologies but full of passion.

Rough, calloused hands slide over my curves to fit beneath me, one settling on my clit, seizing the bundle of nerves between his thumb and finger; the other to cup the front my neck, securing me gently as his body folds over mine, until his chest meets my back, all while he continues mercilessly driving into me.

"You're mine."

"I'm yours."

"I want this to work between us."

"Yes!" I manage to get out through pants.

"You're about to come," he grits out, his cock swelling more inside me with each thrust, telling me he's not far behind me. His fingers, now slick, work against my clit with a sense of urgency, hard and fast circles that make me want to spread my legs wide for him.

The rush hits me and my muscles begin to contract. In answer, he angles his hips to thrust harder into me, the sensation so overwhelming I'm unable to hold back my cries of ecstasy as a mind-paralyzing, explosive orgasm rips through my body, leaves me a quivering mess.

"Fuck!" Jay presses his mouth against the back of my neck to muffle his cries. I can feel his cock pulsing inside me, spilling his release into me, leaving me slick and sore and so utterly satisfied.

Silence surrounds us as we lie on the table, limp, him draped on top of me, his heartbeat pounding against my back.

He pulled himself from me ,then left as I tried to regain my composure. I heard the bath tub running, he came back from our room with my robe and put it on me gently. “Go get in the tub while I make you something and get you a bottle of water.” he kissed me and sent me on the way. I hear my phone ring Jay answers it as I settle deep into the tub the warmth enveloping my body as I close my eyes.

#switchblade jay white x reader #aew fanfic #aew fanfiction #aew smut #switchblade jay white smut #jay white smut #jay white x you

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nolita-fairytale · 7 months ago

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so my darling | sydney adamu x the restaurateur (unnamed male oc) | oneshot

summary: sydney falls in love with a restauranteur (one played by pedro pascal). song title inspired by so my darling by rachel chinouriri.

warnings: swearing, unnamed ocs, talking about sex, use of she/her pronouns, no use of y/n, two original characters (the restaurateur & the pastry chef), the pastry chef is the mc from make my heart surrender, wong kar-wai films, ambiguous ending

wc: 4.8k

a/n: ok, so i'm not entirely back, but this photo of pedro pascal and ayo edebiri at the sag awards quite literally haunted me and made me write something about it. also i've really missed all of you. and i've missed these characters. and i miss this world. this oneshot feels really different to me than a lot of the things i've written for the bear and there isn't much inclusion of the other characters because i really, really wanted to write from sydney's perspective. it's limited storytelling in the way that it's mostly her experience of being charmed by the restaurateur but i had a lot of fun with this and i hope you enjoy. fic inspired by the pic below:

nolita fairytale's masterlist

Sydney doesn’t expect to win, yet her name is called out anyway, followed by the phrases: “James Beard Rising Star Award” and “the winner is.”

Most of the night is a blur. Somewhere between winning the biggest award of her career to accepting congratulations from the best chefs in the world, Sydney’s still trying to gather her bearings. It’s not until Carmy’s girlfriend, the woman who picked up her life and moved to Chicago to be with her exec chef, tugs at her arm.

Sydney doesn’t mean to completely reduce the woman to just Carmy’s girlfriend.

She’s also become many other things: the head pastry chef at The Bear, a colleague, and most importantly, a best friend.

“Hey, Syd! Carm wants to introduce you to someone,” she says, before giving Sydney a chance to politely excuse herself from the previous conversation she’d found herself in.

As The Pastry Chef leads her away from her present company, Sydney follows with a soft smile, half expecting it to be yet another celebrity chef—someone in Carmy’s network that reminds her why she began working at the Bear when The Bear was The Beef.

What she doesn’t expect is to meet him, her breath hitching in her throat as she and her best friend who’s dragged her over here, find themselves standing across from Carmy and an unfamiliar man.

“I see a congratulations is in order,” the man greets her, tipping his half-empty glass of champagne in her direction with a smile so charming she has to do a double take.

“To this year’s newest Rising Star chef.”

He’s handsome, sure—but that’s not what catches her eye.

The first thing Sydney notices about the man is his soft, dark curls—much cleaner than the unruly ones that belong to her head chef. He wears thick-rimmed rectangular glasses and has a perfectly groomed mustache that surprisingly works for him. It’s not usually her kind of thing, is all. In a white button down, perfectly tucked into his pristine black trousers, it's somehow still black tie with a touch of rebelliousness for forgoing a tie and a proper suit jacket.

He can’t be much older than Richie, she thinks to herself. What? Ten… maybe fifteen years older than herself?

Reality comes back to her, as she realizes that she hasn’t said a word, wondering just how long she’s spent caught up in her own head over the handsome stranger.

“Oh uh, yeah. Thanks,” Sydney replies with a smile and a nod, snapping back to her senses.

“Syd, this is… probably one of the few mentors I’ve had in my career. Well, him and Terry, ‘course,” Carmy begins to introduce, shyly. He’s not used to the one doing the introductions. “From Malibu.”

“Fairest Creatures,” the man clarifies with a hearty chuckle, citing the name of the restaurant they worked at together. “Way, waaaaaaay back in the day.”

Right.

The restaurant that put Carmy on the map, winning himself the same award that year that Sydney’s won tonight.

That’s when it clicks for her.

An old mentor of Carmy’s.

Not Terry.

And no, not that one—not the asshole from New York—to put it nicely.

The Restaurateur from California.

“No, I-. Yeah! I’m a big fan of your work, yeah,” Sydney scrambles to say, a glimmer of recognition in her eyes as she reaches out to shake his hand.

“Carmy was one of my early boys—look at him now. The student has far surpassed the teacher,” the chef adds, implying he’s mentored plenty of then-up-and-coming chefs back in the day.

“Oh thanks, but uh. Nah, I don’t know about that,” Carmy mutters, quick to brush off the older chef’s compliment.

Sydney can feel The Pastry Chef nudge her playfully, letting out a chuckle in response. The two exchange glances as Sydney follows her gaze from Carmy to his mentor.

“Oh they’re just being modest. Don’t think I’ve ever met two humbler chefs than these two,” the pastry chef adds with a playful eye roll, shooting her lover a look that doesn’t go unnoticed. “Which… if you ask me, is practically unheard of in this industry so… I consider us lucky, Syd.”

Sydney lets out a small, nervous laugh in agreement, before raising her own champagne glass to her lips as she finds herself, suddenly, parched.

She sees him again, weeks later, when the pomp and circumstance of winning a James Beard award has almost died down. She’d been quick to assume that, like many other chefs that weekend, he’d only been in town for the award ceremony, but as Sydney listens to the man tell Carmy that he’s moved to Chicago for “the foreseeable future,” she wonders why she never asked in the first place.

The Restaurateur had come in to say hello, for a meal, and Carmy had quickly declared that it would be on the house—eager to feed the best mentor he ever had in his California fine dining days.

“Yeah, I’ll be steppin’ in for Cuadros… when he goes on paternity leave… and we’re talking about expanding—what that could look like. Well, you know how it goes, Carm. Right now I’m just hangin’ out, helping out where I can between the two restaurants he’s got now,” he explains to Carmy with a nonchalance, as if he’s not a restaurateur whose reputation precedes himself.

“Ah, man. That’s cool. Well, you let us know if you need anything. I’ll give you mine and uh… Syd, you cool if I give him your number too?” Carmy asks, catching Sydney off guard.

“What do you-, I mean-?” Sydney begins to ask, unable to hide her surprise.

“Since he’s new to the restaurant scene here in Chicago. Can help each other out, you know?” Carmy returns, a hopeful look in his eyes.

“Yeah, I guess I-. Sure,” Sydney nods, forcing a small smile in an attempt to shake the ‘deer-in-headlights’ look she’s sure her face has involuntarily contorted itself into.

She watches her head chef carefully, as Carmy continues to interact with the restaurateur in a way that she’s never seen before. She’s never seen him this eager to try to impress someone—hell, sometimes she wonders if Carmen thrives on pretending like he doesn’t give a fuck what anyone thinks—so it’s sends her head spinning as she tries to reckon with this newly-revealed side of her business partner.

“That means a lot. Thank you–the both of you,” The Restaurateur replies, genuinely, bringing her back into the conversation.

“Sure,” Sydney manages to get out, still caught up in her head—exploring this new side of Carmy she has yet to see. “Anything for a friend of Carmy’s.”

“I’m at Amaru most of the time these days,” the restaurateur continues, his eyes shifting from Carmy then back to Sydney as he adds one last thing.

“You should stop by sometime.”

They exchange a few texts here and there, but it’s all business.

Who’s your preferred vendor for kitchen towels?

You guys see success with extended weekend hours?

Thoughts on being open on Monday?

“He likes you,” The Pastry Chef insists one day, in between lunch and dinner service. Sydney quickly shoves her phone back into her apron pocket, as if she’s a kid again—one who’s gotten caught texting in class.

“What? He does not! I-. This is-, it’s not-, we are two professionals… talking shop,” Sydney dismisses, because it’s easier to push those thoughts aside than to entertain them.

“Syd. He could be texting Carm but he’s texting you,” the her friend continues, completely and utterly unconvinced. Sydney finds herself on the receiving end that says, ‘cut the bullshit’ as The Pastry Chef continues.

“Even if it is… just about work, I think it says something that he’s texting you, Syd. I mean, do you know how long it took me and Carmy to-.”

“Okay, but not all of us are you and Carmy!” Sydney interjects, letting out an uncomfortable laugh as a means to break the tension.

Off her look, her friend just chuckles with a shake of her head, reminded of a time that she too could live this far in denial.

“If you say so,” The Pastry Chef resigns herself, accepting that she won’t make much progress on this one today.

She waits a beat, focused on cleaning up her station as Syd unconsciously checks her phone to see if there’s a notification from a certain someone yet.

“When are we going? To his restaurant, I mean,” The Pastry Chef speaks up again with a quirked eyebrow.

Could she really have noticed that? Syd wonders.

This time, Sydney only groans in response with a mumbled, “Fuck off. I am sick of you,” earning a bigger laugh this time from her pastry chef friend.

But the conversation seems to be the push she needs. It only takes a week or so longer for their days off to align, and Sydney’s the one bringing up the idea: that they should do a happy hour at Amaru to “show support” (and nothing else — really, no ulterior motives at all).

The Pastry Chef is more than enthusiastic about the idea, easily suggesting that they make it a girls’ night.

Which is how Sydney finds herself here, seated between her two biggest cheerleaders, Sugar one side of her, and her pastry-chef-colleague-turned best friend, at the bar of the Pan-Latin American neighborhood spot. She’s sure that Sugar was recruited for said girls’ night, in an attempt to get a second opinion on whether the handsome, older restaurateur is or is not in fact, into her.

She doesn’t hate the idea of it, for the record, but she wonders if they’re reading this all wrong—hesitant to get her hopes up.

But after the first plate—a gift from the kitchen—and the aperitif sent their way, both on the house, Sydney can only assume that The Restaurateur has something to do with it.

Of course, it’s easy to chalk it up to good hospitality. After all, hadn’t they done the same when he visited The Bear, a few things on the house Carmy insisted they send out? Isn’t it customary?

Sydney thinks back to how easily Carmy had given her number to the older chef, eager to extend as much support as possible to his previous mentor as he transitioned into the Chicago market.

But he wasn’t texting Carmy all that much. Just her.

She tries not to brush off yet another excuse: because she’s the CDC, not Carmy; because maybe he thinks Carmy, as the exec chef, doesn’t have the time when she does. Syd thinks she could go on and on like this, and instead, for a split second, she allows herself to think that maybe, just maybe, it’s because her friends aren’t all that wrong about this.

“You’ll have to forgive me. I wanted to come say hello earlier, but. Well, you know how it goes,” The Restaurateur says, earning the attention of all three women. While he acknowledges both of her friends warmly, he makes sure to he’s look at Sydney as he concludes with:

“I’m glad you came.”

“Oh, yeah. Thank you for everything. Seriously. Everything’s been amazing,” Sydney answers, wondering why it suddenly feels five degrees warmer inside of the restaurant.

Sugar snickers and the knowing look shared between her and The Pastry Chef doesn’t go unnoticed.

She just might have to kill her best friends later for this.

The Restaurateur smiles, and with a polite nod of his head, mutters a ‘thank you’ before her friends chime in with compliments, kudos, and their own respective ‘thank yous’ for the superb hospitality. Syd listens as he picks The Pastry Chef’s brain on their newest dessert addition, while Sugar enjoys what feels like a well-deserved second margarita. As The Restaurateur explains the most recent dishes he’s added to the menu since taking over as CDC, she notices that somehow, his focus and attention always seem to return to her.

He can’t visit for long, The Restaurateur apologizes—it is a busy night of service—and before she knows it, he bids his goodbyes before disappearing to the back of the house for the rest of the evening.

“Well he definitely likes you,” The Pastry Chef declares, as soon as he’s out of earshot.

“Oh. So obvious,” Sugar adds with a knowing smirk as the two exchange the exact same glance from earlier

“I’m gonna kill you guys,” Sydney mutters, her head hanging low as she feels a heat rush to her cheeks. She can’t make eye contact with either of them—not right now—or she might just burst into flames.

“Well, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you! That’s for sure,” Sugar clarifies, earning a nod of agreement from The Pastry Chef.

“See! This is what I’ve been telling her since… shit, since he came to The Bear a few weeks ago!” the pastry chef exclaims, sharing another looking with Sugar. “I think he likes you and I think you like him.”

Sydney opens her mouth to say something, but instead, just lets out an exasperated sigh, earning another round of giggles and exclamations of ‘I knew it!’ from her best friends.

They don’t stay for much longer, knowing they’re all due back at the restaurant in the morning. The three women say their goodbyes before parting ways, and as Sydney sits on the train, on the way home with her phone on do not disturb, she notices a few notifications waiting to be read.

A text from Carmy about the prep list.

The pics from tonight waiting for her to open in the group message labeled: Girlies.

And then, from the Restaurateur…

Thanks for bringing friends! It was great to see you.

There’s a familiar heat that warms her cheeks as her fingers race to reply:

Thank you for everything. The meal was incredible.

She waits before adding:

I’m glad we stopped by.

And almost instantly, there’s a reply:

Come back any time. :) With or without friends.

Come back any time. With or without friends.

The words linger in her head over the next few days. She lets them settle in, tossing them back and forth in her mind, while holding what feels like a fragile kind of excitement in her hands that’s somehow seemed to have buried itself deep inside of her.

So he is flirting with you, she thinks to herself, coming to the conclusion that her friends were perhaps right about The Restaurateur.

She doesn’t want to completely misread the situation, but she’s not sure how else she should interpret it either.

It takes Sydney two more weeks to work up the courage to go back to Amaru on her day off that week. Part of her wonders whether it’s been too long—if she’s missed her chance—and part of her knows that in the business they’re in, the days blur together, and two days become two weeks, become two months, and that he probably hasn’t even noticed that’s been that long. Her and The Restaurateur are both on Kitchen Standard Time, right? She’s not sure what takes over her, but she’s somehow mustered up the cajones (she can practically hear Tina’s voice in her head as she hypes herself up) to show up, this time, without friends.

Her risk does not go unrewarded, when he comes out to say hello. This time, he’s not alone, introducing her to his soon-to-be-business partner, Chef Cuadros, the owner of Amaru and his other venture, Bloom. They exchange pleasantries and congratulations (you know, over the huge fucking deal of an award she’s just recently won) before he pats The Restaurteur on the back, excusing himself back to the kitchen.

The Restaurateur chuckles, noting how much he’s looking forward to joining Cuadros’ restaurant group.

“Rodolfo’s a great guy,” The Restaurateur sighs, contently.

“Yeah, he seems great,” Sydney agrees, almost just to be polite.

“Yeah. Really leads by example. Rare to find that in this industry,” he chuckles, before changing the subject.

“Speaking of. Cuadros is closing up tonight which means I’m off, starting now.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. You wanna get a drink?”

She doesn’t even have to think about it.

“Yeah. I uh-, I’m in.”

“It’s devastating!” The Restaurateur declares, the passion evident as the words escape his lips.

“I mean, the transitions are a little choppy. And even they can’t take away the fact that: It. Absolutely. Without a doubt. 100% ruined my life,” Sydney wholeheartedly agrees, completely captivated this conversation—one that she finds incredibly sexy.

“I cry. Every single time,” the man that sits across from her says, a dopey smile plastered to his face and a heat to his cheeks from the second whiskey on the rocks he’s nursing.

“Every single time!” Sydney emphasizes, just to drive the point home.

“Because, well-, I mean, they just can’t catch a break! Always just a moment too late. It’s like… well, it’s like they’re never supposed to end up together in the first place,” The Restaurateur clarifies, in reference to what about the film is so goddamn devastating.

Syd nods with a sigh, examining the idea in her head cautiously, knowing that he’s right—even if she doesn’t want him to be.

A beat.

She leans in, the corners of her lips beginning to turn up into a smile.

“Have you seen Chungking Express?” she asks, because she’s ready to start this whole thing over again.

“Have I seen-? Are you-, of course I’ve seen Chungking Express,” the Restaurateur answers, building on their shared excitement about finding common ground outside of the kitchen. “I love Wong Kar-Wai so much I even put myself through My Blueberry Nights.”

“Okay, chill. It’s not a competition,” Sydney jokes, earning a full bellied laugh from The Restaurateur.

“You’re funny,” he states, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiles back at her.

Her heart skips a beat, her breath caught in her throat.

The way he says it is genuine. It’s real. It feels… more earnest—more intimate than what should exist between two colleagues.

Then again, she didn’t exactly say ‘yes’ to drinks thinking it was just as colleagues.

“I-,” Sydney hesitates, scrambling to find the right words when it feels like so many of them could burst out of her at any minute.

Instead she settles on, “Thanks,” feeling more like Carmy than she’s ever felt in her life.

There it is again—that flutter in her belly.

This man is most definitely flirting with her, a thought that only mildly causes her to panic.

The moment feels almost too tender for either of them. Sydney shifts nervously in her seat while The Restaurateur takes another sip of his whiskey, before clearing his throat.

“I uh. I should probably get going. It’s uh… yeah. It’s getting late,” Sydney says, finding the words to excuse herself.

She’s not sure what she wants out of this—it’s maybe why she takes the out in the first place, thinking it may be best to end the evening here. Tonight was… more than she expected it to be, and she’s torn between wanting to stay and wanting to flee the great state of Illinois.

Better pause while we’re ahead, Sydney thinks.

“Yeah, no, of course,” The Restaurateur agrees, easily, before insisting that he pick up the tab.

“No, I-, I couldn’t let you-,” Sydney begins to argue.

“Please,” he insists, his tone once again rendering her once again at a loss for words. “You’ve been more than helpful to us over at Amaru since the minute I got here. This is on me.”

Syd spends the next few days going back and forth over whether or not it—whatever the hell the other night was—would be a good idea. She eventually concludes that she can’t stay away—from the high, from the way he made her feel when he insisted on paying the bill (a moment she’s replayed in her head over and over again), from him. She doesn’t tell anyone: not Nat, not The Pastry Chef, and certainly, not Carmy.

She sends the text before she can chicken out one Saturday night, as she finishes closing up.

Heading to Green Door Tavern for a night cap.

He puts her out of her misery, quick to respond as always, almost as if he was expecting her to (or waiting for her to, which, she decides is a little too much of wishful thinking).

I was just thinking about you! Just rewatched 2046 the other night. Want some company?

Yeah.

Let me close up. I’ll let you know when I’m on the way :)

The smiley face.

The fucking smiley face.

She discovers that the same dopey smile finds its way across his lips as soon as he enters the bar. The two of them quickly find themselves in yet another deep conversation about foreign films over, for him, a whiskey on the rocks, and for her, a tequila soda. There’s that same buzzing in the air between the two of them—chemistry, one might call it—as they move from Wong Kar-Wait to Jean-Pierre Jeunet with an ease that feels good to her.

Really good, actually.

So good that as soon as Sydney realizes it’s getting late, she doesn’t run in the other direction. She’s not sure what she’s expecting, but she thinks this time, she could stay. This time, she could talk to him till the sun came up, allowing herself to get lost in his soft brown eyes she finds more comforting than she should. It’s not till he brings it up that she notices again that:

“It’s getting late.”

“Oh shit. Yeah,” Sydney agrees, reluctantly, because she doesn’t want this night to end. Before she can say anything else, her body moves to get up, just half an hour away from last call.

The Restaurateur stops her, reaching out a hand that feels warm against hers as she pauses, her eyes locked with his.

“I hope it’s not uh, well, I hope it’s not inappropriate of me,” he begins, clearing his throat as he pauses.

“No, I-, I don’t want the night to-, you know… I lost track of time too and I-,” she stammers through, unsure of what she wants to say.

He smiles warmly, his hand moving to grab hers, as if, in spite of the fact that she can barely get the words out, he understands exactly what she’s trying to say.

“You can say ‘no,’” he prefaces with, a sure nod as his gaze returns to hers.

“Can I take you home?”

And the only response that makes sense to her is the biggest, most enthusiastic:

“Yes.”

Maybe it’s just a one time thing.

Okay, a three-time thing, considering it happened that night, then two more times after the sun came up.

But to Sydney’s surprise (and delight) he texts her later that day, and the one (three) time thing becomes a one to three times a week kind of thing (schedules permitting, of course).

They fall into a rhythm—and she likes this rhythm—they cook, work at their separate restaurants, and then she lets him fuck her into his mattress like they didn’t just work their own respective twelve-hours shifts.

The Pastry Chef lets out a laugh, noticing that it’s the third day in a row that Syd’s come in having ‘not gotten enough sleep’ yet still glowing.

“How’s the sex?” she smirks, shooting Sydney a look.

In return, Syd rolls her eyes, like she isn’t getting laid on the regular, her best friend waiting patiently for a proper answer.

She checks over both shoulders to ensure no one else is listening before lowering her voice.

“It’s the best sex of my life.”

She finally moves into her own apartment a month later.

Of course, it’s a decision she’s made on her own volition and has nothing to do with the hot Restaurateur who seems like he might have some kind of staying power—the same one that’s giving her the big bang of orgasms, but that’s besides the point.

No, it most certainly has nothing to do with that.

With Chef Cuadros officially out on paternity leave, The Restaurateur somehow still manages to find the time to help her move in between running two restaurants while developing the concept for a third.

It’s the first night he spends the night and they sleep—just sleep—since she started seeing him, though they christen the place in the morning.

“We’ve been talking about a full nixtamalization program. For the new spot,” The Restaurateur explains over breakfast tacos one morning—ones he made for her in her new apartment because, of course, they had to christen the place in more ways than one.

“Shit. That’d be dope,” Sydney replies, as they continue to bounce ideas back and forth. “Do you think you could pull it off in that small of a space?”

“I’m so glad you asked!” The Restaurateur grins, before going into a near-monologue about the handful of creative solutions he’s come up with, eager to soundboard a few ideas off of her.

But Sydney finds herself a little distracted.

It’s not that she’s not listening… but she’s got something else on the tip of her tongue that she’s been holding back. The Restaurateur is in the middle of breaking down the logistics, contemplating whether or not they could pull off what he’s labeled, Idea B, when Sydney finally musters up the courage to blurt out:

“I want to cook something for you. Like not in a restaurant, or anything. I mean. Here. I want to cook something for you here.”

“Yeah?”

A beat.

“Yeah, I mean. It doesn’t have to be like-, I don’t know, this big thing or anything. But. You’re always cooking for me,” she explains, unsure of why she feels so nervous as she continues. “I kinda want to return the favor.”

He only smiles.

“Then it’s a date.”

It started as the best sex of her life, but it’s as if he’s carved out a place in her life without her noticing, seamlessly woven himself into her life, and she, his, in a way that she can’t imagine what it was like before.

It simultaneously excites her and makes her feel uneasy.

Fuck.

She doesn’t really even know what she should call ‘it’ anyway.

They haven’t really talked about it—haven’t given it a label—but with shifts at The Bear for her, running two restaurants for him, and fleeting nights spent at each others’ places before it was time to do it all over again, it’s not like they’ve had the time.

She finds herself in late Fall, almost Winter, all dressed with a newly-done silk press at yet another James Beard fundraiser. Her coat was checked in long ago as she bares her shoulders in the near-off the shoulder, gingham-printed dress, with The Restaurateur by her side. He wears thick-framed glasses, his white-collared shirt unbuttoned low enough that she’s more than ready to head back to her place to undo the rest.

It practically gives her deja vu—the two finding themselves in an all-too-familiar place—as they stand across from Carmy and The Pastry Chef, sipping on their fancy champagne and making small talk to the best of anyone’s ability.

“Hope you guys don’t mind. Can we get a few pictures?” the event photographer asks as he approaches, noting that a picture of this year’s Rising Star award recipient is a must on his shot list.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” Sydney replies, a kindness in her voice even through her discomfort.

It’s not lost on her that Carmy’s more than relieved that he doesn’t have to be in the spotlight anymore, eager to step out of the way.

She poses for a few photos solo before both Carmy and The Pastry Chef are encouraged to join in, taking a few more shots with her.

“And then can we get one of the two of you?” the photographer asks, this time gesturing towards The Restaurateur.

Sydney opens her mouth to protest, to let him off the hook, because what would that mean? Before she can say anything, The Restaurateur has happily agreed, wrapping an arm around her, his hand on the small of her back.

She exchanges a look with him, something that says, ‘are you sure?’

He only nods in response, a supportive smile and a softness in his eyes that puts her at ease as if to say, ‘of course.’

Instinctively, she reaches for him, his right hand landing softly against his midsection. She feels the warmth of his palm as his hand slides up, landing somewhere above her wrist, making another point of contact. Well, now they certainly look like a couple.

“Great! That’s great, you two,” the photographer grins after taking a few more shots, his eyes fixed to the screen on his DSLR as he plays back the last few photos. “Thanks so much.”

What could this mean?

What could this be?

She doesn’t have all the answers.

Not yet, at least.

But she’ll take a wild guess—one that fills her with a certainty that she can feel in her bones.

Because tonight, he stood proudly by her side—his hands all over her as if she were his, in a photo she’s sure will make it out of Adobe Photoshop—meaning maybe, just maybe, The Restaurateur could be here to stay.

#nolita fairytale's masterlist #sydney the bear #sydney adamu #sydney is the main character #sydney adamu x oc #sydney x male oc #sydney adamu fanfiction #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear fanfiction #ayo edebiri #pedro pascal

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pinkorchidsinspring · 10 months ago

Text

EVELYN is that you?! For the Straights, and gays who have never had the soul crushing pleasure of reading (and those who have ;) “The Seven Husbands of Evelyn Hugo”, Allow me to elaborate ⬇️

To be clear: Evelyn Hugo Marry’s seven separate men in order to cultivate her Hollywood image, at the expense of her true love interest and sexuality. Aka lavender marriages, aka bearding. She was bi however we barely have one actual male love interest for her..

let’s meander some of the lovely connections our blonde woman-who-is-attending-an-award-show-with-a-woman-on-her-arm-to-✨dispell✨-the-gay-rumors has with the ever amazing Evelyn Hugo 😍

Green is quotes from the book, anything else is Taylor’s lyrics 💗

"It shouldn't be wrong, to love you. How can it be wrong?"

They say I did something bad / Then why's it feel so good?

I love you ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard?

Is Evelyn Hugo going to tell me just enough to keep me on the edge of my seat but never enough to truly reveal anything?

What a Mastermind wouldn’t you say?

I did it because I want to climb the ladder as high as I possibly can. I did it because I want my name, the name my father gave me, in big, bold letters one day. This is my chance.

He wanted a bride, I was making my own name

People think that intimacy is about sex. But intimacy is about truth.

I want to wear his initial / On a chain 'round my neck, chain 'round my neck / Not because he owns me / But 'cause he really knows me / Which is more than they can say

Celia was starting to get goose bumps, so I suggested we go back into the living room, where it was warmer. The desert winds had swooped in and turned this June night into a chilly one. When I started to get cold, too, I asked her if she knew how to make a fire.

He built a fire just to keep me warm

Wine went all over her white shirt.

The burgundy on my T-shirt when you splashed your wine into me

I was in emerald green again.

“Evelyn, who was your great love? You can tell me." "Celia St. James.”

I just had to put this in here- no need whatsoever but 😍

Don was off somewhere else, leaving me before I could leave him. Instead, right on my doorstep, was Celia St. James.

Stand there like a ghost / Shaking come the rain, rain / She'll open up the door / And say, are you insane, -ane?

🤭And that's how it works / That's how you get the girl🤷‍♀️

She literally told you-I anyway

You wonder what it must be like to be a man, to be so confident that the final say is yours.

A little side note: The way in which she naturally uses those two fingers is very audacious to me.. but that’s a topic for another time…

I’d risen from ashes more than once by that point. But I didn't want to have to do it again.

And I know I make the same mistakes every time

I'm getting tired even for a phoenix / Always risin' from the ashes / Mendin' all her gashes / You might just have dealt the final blow

"Everyone's a pawn.”

Checkmate, I couldn't lose

One day I'll watch as you're leaving / 'Cause you got tired of my scheming

The black beaded dress I wore that night. Two slits on either side of the skirt went up to my mid-thigh. I loved that dress. (For the nomination for a film called Cornelia Sunset, might I add…)

And what I wanted was to move to the Upper East Side of Manhattan.

Where were the original Polaroids for 1989 shot? Oh in manhattan…

Where does Taylor live? In New York… maybe not manhattan… but you get the point..

Welcome to New York, Taylor wrote this song specifically about moving there, and the very diverse people there…

In the pursuit of a great cause, I think people can be of service in a number of different ways. I always felt that my way was to make a lot of money and then channel it to the groups that needed it. It's a bit self-serving, that logic. I know that. But because of who I was, because of the sacrifices I made to hide parts of myself, I was able to give more money than most people ever see in their entire lifetime. I am proud of that.

"Evelyn, you are not capable of giving it up. And you never will be. And it will be the tragedy of my life that I cannot love you enough to make you mine. That you cannot be loved enough to be anyone's.”

"Do something, babe, say something" (say something) / "Lose something, babe, risk something" (you're losin' me) / "Choose something, babe, I got nothing (got nothing) / To believe / Unless you're choosin' me"

Which is about the cruelest thing you can do to someone you love, give them just enough good to make them stick through a hell of a lot of bad.

You know there's many different ways that you can kill the one you love / The slowest way is never loving them enough

And let me just say bring a woman who promised to be Taylor’s “invisible bride any day”, to an award show after that homophobic piece of 🔥🗑️ NYT article calling her only straight…

Not to mention her name starts with a K..

Look how happy tree is, because this Evelyn Hugo won’t be hidden forever 💚🤍

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sga-owns-my-soul · 5 months ago

Note

🔦favourite sga moment involving mcshep or weir x sheppard

okay well. if there's one thing anyone knows about me it's that i'll ship anything and i'm also mcshep trash so 😅 it's going to be too hard to narrow this down to one moment so you're getting my favourite moments

for shepweir, my absolute favourite moment in the show is in the storm/the eye when kolya says elizabeth is dead and john immediately goes from soldier mindset to genocidal rage and literally does not stop moving and killing until he's told elizabeth is still alive 🥰🥰 we love to see it, i WISH a man loved me enough to commit genocide for me omg actual goals 😍 (although the moment in the tower is also really cute at the end when elizabeth's like they didn't offer you king? and johns like i turned that down too and the little SMIRK SHE GIVES HIM OH MY GOD THEYRE ADORABLE FUCK also in epiphany when she's like ooh i like the beard and he's like it's the first to go when i get home ahhhh it's just. idk it's so domestic and so adorable ugh they're too cute)

also for mcshep, every mcshep moment is a good mcshep moment (and i can make pretty much anything mcshep if i try hard enough) but my favourites come down to:

at the end of hide and seek, when rodney is laying on the floor of the gate room and john rushes down and is the first one at his side but his hands are just fluttering around because he doesn't think he's allowed to touch (or maybe he's too scared to, scared of what he'll show if he gets to touch rodney) it's just sooooooooooo and then john saying he passed out bc he's SO PROUD OF RODNEY FOR BEING SO BRAVE FUCK

also in the defiant one, where rodney is clearly shitting a brick, having seen one of his scientist's dead and one dying, and wanting to go join the fight because he's so scared of john being out there alone and something happening to him. rodney is SO brave and it makes me want to scream and cry and chew on the wall when i think about how many huge changes rodney makes simply just because someone gave him a chance and cared about him

also the whole of millers crossing obviously, the fact that john went back to earth with him and being as worried about jeannie, to john talking a man into killing himself, i mean even rodney asking john for permission (even tho he ends up trying to do it anyways, because that's what john would do- sacrifice himself anyways, and rodney's learned from john) just. the entire episode makes me feral

and last but certainly not least, the shrine. my absolute favourite episode of anything ever, what is, in my opinion, the best piece of media ever created in all of human history. the way rodney loses everything but clings to john so desperately, the way john is the one jeannie turns to for comfort, the way john is breaking in every fucking scene, BEER ON THE PIER, god just literally everything about that episode is so insane to me (and david hewlett went so fucking hard that man deserves every damn award omfg) also kind of unrelated but it's my personal headcanon that rodney was saying i love you to john and not jennifer in that video, rodney was just aware enough to know he couldn't say johns name, but that message was for him 100%

#thanks anon!#good question #i love shipping tbh #it's so fun #mcshep #shepweir #john sheppard #rodney mckay #elizabeth weir #asks #sga #stargate atlantis

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tsunami-watch · 8 months ago

Text

Outrunning Karma

Main Story: 1

Summary: V meets Nathan, the beginning of our adventure.

Ships: (Nathan Bateman x F!V!Reader)

Word count: 1767

“This could be big for you, don’t fuck it up.” Rogue’s warning rang in V’s mind as she entered the conference room.

The room was monochromatic with minimalist decor, nothing really clueing her in to who this “Nathan Bateman” guy was. No personal effects or awards, just some plant that looked fake in the corner and a geometric table with two chairs. She scans the room, finding nothing of note, just a security panel and a thermostat. She shrugged and sat down in one of the chairs, tapping the table under her fingers. She had gotten from Rouge was that this guy was “Unlike any other corpo.” and that could mean anything. She sighs and leans back in her chair as she looks up at the paneled ceiling, after a brief moment of pretending to play tic-tac-toe with its gridded pattern she’s startled by a low voice.

“Anything interesting up there?” She jumps slightly and turns quickly in her seat about to curse out whoever scared her when she’s face to face with him. She’s surprised by the man in front of her, not a scrap of visible chrome on him. She starts up her scanner for a habitual scan, but before she can even get a glance at the info, he vanishes from her field of view in the blink of an eye, a sudden gust of wind whipping across her face from the movement. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Nathan’s voice comes from around the corner.

V instinctively flexes, Mantis blades springing into action, she takes a defensive stance, anticipating the worst.

“Woah, chill honey. Not gonna hurt you.” Before she could even react, her blades retracted, plates shuffling and closing back to their inactive state.

“What the- How did…?” She felt significantly less chill.

“So, can we talk or are we gonna keep this back and forth going for a while longer?” Nathan asks.

“I’m happy to talk, I don’t know why you vanished in the first place.” She stands up straight again and leans on the table, Nathan comes back around the corner.

“Trust me, you don’t want to randomly scan me like that, just might end up another fried corpse in a trash heap if you’re not careful.” Nathan stands in front of her and relaxes slightly. “Now go ahead.” She raises an eyebrow but doesn’t ask anything further as she proceeds to scan him. As she's skimming over his NCPD file she's surprised to see his middle name vanish from the file in real time, glancing back at him it appeared he had been following along her reading.

"Much better." He mutters

"Hamlet? Really?" She chuckles.

"We don't talk about it." He crosses his arms with a sigh.

“Noted.” She looks around the room again, trying to figure out what to say next. “So, what's the deal? You’re definitely not like the other CEOs of megacorps, pretty sure most of them don’t even look the mercs who do their dirty work in the eye, much less invite them into their freakishly minimalist space.” Nathan laughs.

“I guess you could say I’m not like the others.” He walks past her and sits down in one of the chairs, gesturing for her to do the same. She sits down, her eyes still trained on him. Rogue wasn’t wrong, he was different from any other corpo she’d ever met, Ditching the expensive restricting suits for a soft waffle-knit white sweater and some dark slacks, his head shaved, and a full well groomed beard. After a longer examination she could tell he didn’t have any optic enhancements either, somehow wiring the typical display functions of cyberoptics to the silver wireframe glasses perched upon his nose, leaving his eyes a natural deep brown, which was almost unnerving, she was so used to the bright artificial colors and slight glow that most had, seeing pure natural eyes, she understood what all those old poets meant by the eyes being the windows to the soul. Nathan gives her a slight smirk, leaning forward in his seat with interest. “Not every day I meet someone who knows nothing about me.”

“Sorry, don't mean to bruise your ego.” She says leaning back in her chair, keeping a comfortable distance between them.

“No, No…I quite like it. You have no expectations, you aren’t expecting some genius bullshit that blows your mind. It’s nice, no performance, no need to please or meet some expectation of grandeur.” Nathan also takes the time to examine her more closely. Sure, she was here to do a job for him, but he couldn’t help but enjoy the view. It's not often someone who looks like that waltzes in, toned muscle and soft skin fading into the harsh telltale lines of combat cyberware, fire in her cybernetic eyes. He blinks lazily, taking a second to refocus. “Alright, the gig should be easy enough. I just need you to get something for me, and if necessary, zero the choom who has it.” She’s slightly taken aback in his casual choice of words but nods.

“Okay, what exactly am I looking for?” She asks, her eyebrow raised slightly.

“Long story short, a Braindance. I got drunk at a party and a doll got a BD of a conversation I had, where I gave up some information I shouldn’t have. I can’t have that getting around, top secret shit.” She watches Nathan talk, as much as she was listening to the details of the gig she was amused by the way he talked with his hands, the expressions he makes, she couldn’t help but feel at ease with him, not something she had felt so easily with anyone in a while. Nathan had picked up on that feeling, her body language going from tense and on edge to seemingly relaxed. Her shoulders lowered, her head tilted to the side a bit, ankles crossed in front of her. She had let her guard down just a little bit, the corners of his lips turning up slightly in a smile. “It should be simple, get the BD, by whatever means necessary.”

“Seems easy enough, who am I looking for?”

It was jarring to have information transferred without seeing the familiar blue flash from the optics of the transmitter. “Amethyst Bronte.” Her NCPD database file didn’t have anything notable to speak of besides a tie to The Mox, which was not unusual for a doll.

“Sure it’s her? She seems remarkably…unremarkable in her records for an NC citizen.” V did another once over of the squeaky clean file. “Only offense was trespassing…to feed stray cats on private property. This upstanding citizen if NC’s ever known one, snagged a BD of you giving up classified info? Choom-”

Nathan quirked a brow at her, an amused smile tugging at his lips. Another tab appeared in V’s view, the ice blue backdrop and text looking oddly familiar, as she skimmed through the extensive file including images, video, and audio attached that did not seem like they were recorded with the subjects’ knowledge. This file painted a very different picture of Amethyst, a data broker who sold information to corps and gangs alike for the highest offer, the file even included insights into her personal life, broken family, little to no friends to speak of, just trying to keep a roof over her head and food on the table. “Thought you’d know better by now than to judge a BD by its title, choom.”

“Where- The fuck? How did you even get this much information? I know the place this was taken, there’s no cameras-” He silently stared, waiting patiently as realization dawned upon V. “No, no, they’re real? Those fucking, conspiracy theories about Tsunami?”

“Tsunami Watch.” He nodded, leaning back in his chair, expression only describable as with the pride and arrogance of a man who thought himself to be God. Maybe he wasn’t all that different from other corpos after all. “Anyways, you don’t have to worry about all that, just enjoy the extra deets.” Nathan waves dismissively, she doesn't know how to feel about the sharp contrasts of emotion he’s made her feel in the short timespan she’s known him. She shakes it off with a hesitant nod, she needs to focus on the job, get through this and get home. That's what matters.

“Sounds good, I’ll keep in touch.” V says calmly as she stands up and gets ready to go.

“Oh and V, be careful. You never know who's watching.”

It took over a day to track down this Amethyst character even with the additional deets provided, despite having her life in a neat file she posed more of a challenge than V initially expected. When V finally found her, it was in amongst the pounding beats and sweaty bodies of the most popular club in Night City, Riot. As she entered the establishment she was greeted by the familiar sound and sight of Johnny’s engram flickering into existence, leaning against one of the lobby’s brutalist concrete walls.

“You should try taking me somewhere this nice sometime V.” He snarked with his usual tone of arrogance-riddled sarcasm. V rolled her eyes and decided to ignore him, pushing past as he flickered out of view. She decided to observe Amethyst from afar, having spotted her bright purple streaked hair through the crowd, chatting with someone as she moved to the beat. Calculating her next move, V carefully moved to the bar flagging down the bartender, watching out of the corner of her eye as Amethyst approached the opposite end of the bar. Perfect timing.

“A shot of house tequila, neat, and whatever she’s drinking.” She said tilting her head in the direction of the other woman. The bartender silently nods in acknowledgement, pouring and setting the drink in front of her with the flourish of practiced efficiency before turning to get Amethyst's order. V knocks back the shot, letting the familiar feeling of the burning amber liquid ignite upon her tongue as it slides down her throat. It was only a moment before Amethyst approached, holding her own drink of a dreamy pink and purple hue.

“Thank you for the drink Miss V, I think I have something you’re looking for.” She smiled as she slid what looked to be a metallic cigarette case across the table, motioning for V to open it. V cocks an eyebrow at her before cautiously popping the case open to find a datastick and a handwritten note, a mix of shock and irritation crossing her face as she reads the note.

“You passed. Congrats. -N”

Masterlist

Credit: @winniethewife @burymesanti

#nathan bateman #cyberpunk v #cyberpunk 2077 #blue book #Bluebook #Tsunami watch #ex machina #ex machina fanfiction #nathan bateman x reader #oscar isaac #oscar issac characters #oscar issac hernandez estrada #oscar issac x reader #cyberpunk fanfic #cyberpunk AU

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booburry · 11 months ago

Text

Double Trouble Dieter Bravo x F!Reader x Javi Gutierez One Shot

Cont. of Pivot

Summary: Dieter & Javier Gutierrez are working on an upcoming project together and, to help with their creative process, they are spending more time together. The first time you meet Javi, it started with an intimate dinner and ended with the three of you in bed.

Tags (I have probably missed some): No use of Y/N, Dieter & Reader established relationship, Sober Dieter, Dieter still being chaotic, Javi being soft and seduced, Reader being a switch, oral (male & female receive/give), two boys kissing and a little more, DPV, Threesome (duh), Possessive!Dom Dieter, Passionate!Praising Javi, Quickie, Tiny bit of Sub!Dieter, Dieter still being soft outside of sex, Dieter being Poly, Pet Names, Spanish Pet Names, Reader speaks Spanish (writer does not), one single and much needed use of 'Papi', Author is in no way capable of speaking Spanish, was literally told by her Spanish teacher to drop the class to better spend her time doing anything else, and used copious amounts of various google searches to try to ensure it's accuracy while providing absolutely zero guarantees...except for 'Papi'.

A/N: Real quick, I never meant for it to be this long but I don't apologize for it lol. I want to be bold and say you will all love it, while also being too nervous to see if you do...these men have obviously taken a hold of me. I have also become obsessed with the idea of these three becoming a throuple and I greatly intend on making this a 'Slice of Life of the Rich & Famous' series. 65/35 split of smut to plot lol. As always, feel free to let me know if you enjoyed it ♥♥♥

Word Count: 17.3k... Thank you @cafekitsune for the banners

“Dieter! Dieter!” Another reporter called him over as you both stepped away from finishing a different interview—how many you had done at this point? Countless, and quite honestly, you didn’t entirely care to keep track. The only thing your eyes, body and mind wished to keep track of was looking at Dieter in his purple velvet suit that swirled with a beautiful pattern of roses done in black velvet. His beard and mustache were the perfect mix of messy and neat, his untamed curls in full form on top of his head, and a bright white pocket square that had made you crazy when he placed it in there.

It was always the stupidest shit that turned you both on with the other—or maybe Dieter and you were just always horny and perpetually DTF for the other.

Oh, and of course the man went nowhere without his signature sunglasses. ‘You can never get rid of the sunglasses, Dieter!’ his agent had told him after the Documentary boomed, followed by all of the paparazzi photos of him in his housecoat and sunglasses. It was now part of his ‘brand’ and despite how much that concept sickened Dieter, he played along. He admitted he was able to stomach some aspects of what he frequently called the ‘circus shitshow’ of the biz.

Dee guided you towards the woman holding an E! News microphone, his free hand reaching up to cover yours that rested on his arm. You knew he couldn’t walk away from any interview request, bound by contract as his agent had become quite savvy with keeping little, to no, loop holes that let Dieter get out of press and promotion work.

But that also meant his contract usually held very broad terms her agrees to in regards to press and promotional tours and award shows if he isn’t nominated. Thankfully his agent wasn’t an absolute shithead and bent to Dieter’s will when he really didn’t want to do something. For everything you disliked about him, you could agree and confidently say that he cared about Dieter’s wellbeing…he just cared more about keeping him famous, in demand and constantly bank rolled.

It was the reason he flew out to LA next week to record some voiceover for Netflix on some documentary series. Dieter promised you, when he told you about taking this job, that he would make sure to do the closest to his bedroom voice as they would allow. That made you forgive you for leaving you alone for a few weeks while he took care of a stack of work his agent had set up for him while he was in the states.

You saw a lot of phone sex and video calls in your future. A thought that did not make dealing with the constant interviews any easier.

Sensing your tenseness, and always ensuring to be soft and gentle with you in these moment, Dieter gave your hand a small squeeze, bringing you out of your thoughts to look up at him and see him smile at the reporter but you knew, from that squeeze, it was for you.

He knew you hated the sudden spotlight on yourself, on your past life, and your growing relationship with Dieter that came with the release of the documentary. He knew that these events made you feel tense and nervous, and he knew the only reason you attended was because of how much he needed you to be there for him. He knew you put on a brave face, being ‘a model actor’ as he would tease you, and happily play the role of the loving and supportive partner who embraced the spotlight.

It was the ‘embracing’ part that was incredibly difficult and where you needed to act. Loving and supporting Dieter was easy to do because you do love Dieter, you do want to support him and you were so unbelievably happy for his resurgence of recognition for his work because of this documentary and from the world seeing his fall from grace and his climb back up.

The world had fallen in love with him; his chaotic, honest, unabashed, self. Just as you had.

But that also meant the world had come to know you, and although quite a lot of them supported you both, even reached out to you and thanked you personally for saving Dee or for inspiring them to get help, there were a loud few who hated you for it. For being with him, and nothing else. It was shallow and you paid it no mind, until you were on the red carpets and suddenly you were self-conscious about what will be said of you after this. How would you be picked apart this time?

You ran your thumb along the bottom of Dieter’s hand, desperate for his comfort and immediately, as he settled in front of the reporter, he wrapped his arm around you and held you close to him, sensing and knowing how desperately you needed him as your pillar right now.

For all of the complaining he did about attending these events, he always thrived once in the moment. You always teased him for it and he always insisted he only enjoyed them because you were there. Together, you both stood strong.

“Elle from E! News.” The woman greeted the both of you as you finally approached.

“Hello, Elle, from E! News.” Dieter greeted with a cheeky smile and you knew his eyes were raking over her entire body behind his sunglasses—the thought helped you smile for the camera.

“Hi.” She said with a short and unintended pause as you saw her cheeks darken past the shade of her blush, obviously sensing Dieter’s depraved thoughts. “Um, the public has become enamoured with your story, seeing the rawness of your state throughout the documentary, seeing you rise from it. How does it feel to have that recognition and support?”

Dieter’s free arm swung to his side as he lightly rocked back on his feet, preparing himself to give a slightly varied answer to the same question he had been receiving all night.

“Well, Elle from E! News, I must say that it feels great and that it’s immensely appreciated. It’s one of the...many,” Dieter stressed the word with a dramatic swing of his head to look at you, the sudden and unexpected attention making you drop your gaze and try to suppress a bashful smile, “many, things that keep me on track in my life of sobriety.” He concluded and you could see from the corner of your eyes he was still looking at you, his adorable half-smile on his delicious lips—the same lips that had been between your legs on the limo ride here.

Despite what you wished to do, you knew you had been looking down for too long for this interview, and needing to avoid ridicule you raised your gaze to meet his, only to see his mustache twitch at your brave efforts.

“Yes!” The reporter continued as you and Dieter watched each other with a deeply loving gaze. “The public have also become openly supportive of the two of you! Especially after seeing the beginning and how it blossomed throughout the documentary. That steamy photo of the two of you in the pool.” Thankfully you had heard this story and topic enough to no longer blush when speaking about it publicly. Privately it was often used as an aphrodisiac between you and Dieter, but unlike him, you were not an exhibitionist for the camera and general public.

When you first realized it was going to be included, it enraged you knowing that the fucking cameraman had filmed god knows how much of your time with Dieter in the pool, now locked behind unaired footage. Despite your annoyance of this, however, it was a fact that only excited the shit out of Dieter. Something you had proof of as he had, during the showing at the premier, brought your hand over to feel his hard cock pressed against his pants when that moment was on screen.

But, by that point in time, his enjoyment of others watching him or him watching you with others was a well known and explored thing between the two of you, so it was no surprise what he had you feel at that moment. Shit, the first time you two had sex he told you he wanted others to hear how well he made you feel, how good he fucked you. In truth, it had become something you had started to enjoy more than you ever expected.

But not here. Not in these situations.

But at the premiere? Shielded in the darkness of the theatre? Well…you made sure to give his cock a short, loving squeeze before reaching up to pinch his chin, the auditorium chuckling with many eyes turning to you both when the pool clips had ended.

That part of the documentary was followed by some interviews of a few cast and crew saying how they had heard it happening, heard you, and that they all ran out to take a peek for when round two had started.

Round two was you riding Dieter on one of the lounge chairs after you both had lazily floated around the pool, giggling, flirting, and getting closer. Until the flirting got more serious and you were kissing more than talking, your hands starting to travel and take. When you felt how hard he was for you, how much he craved you…you had to take it for yourself.

It was with round two that you realized that despite how ferocious and possessive Dieter was with you, privately, he also loved little more than to be under you, submissive to you…your good boy.

Thankfully there was no footage of that, but the testimonials were enough to solidify that moment as a main talking point for Dieter in these interviews—which you didn’t mind as long as you didn’t have to be present for them.

“Yes, the famous scene…” Dieter cut in with a smile, his free hand reaching up once more to cover yours, giving you a small and loving squeeze, while his arm around your back steadied you. “What people don’t always focus on when thinking of that night, and let’s be real Elle from E! News...we all know what everyone is thinking about when watching that scene! But that night was the moment it all changed for me, this beautiful, amazing...” Dieter lightly shook his head, his eyes bulging as he seemed strained in thought, “there are no words to describe what she means to me, what she has done for me.” He confessed, kissing your cheek, purposefully lingering long enough for his mustache to tickle your skin and leave you with a smile.

“You have said in many interviews that she is the reason you attended treatment, is that right?”

“Yes!” Dieter almost yelled into the microphone. “A million times yes! Not only that, she helped me finally accept that what I was doing was...because I wasn’t addressing the things I needed to. I was heading for rock bottom and she allowed me to pause for a moment and pivot out of that trajectory. You...” Dieter paused a moment and you could feel his hand on yours lightly shake, the muscles in his body tense, as you knew the dreadful thoughts that seeped into his mind at this moment. “You would have a completely different man standing in front of you now if it wasn’t for her.”

Dee did a good job at keeping his voice level, but his tone was unmistakably solemn. However you could hear the strain, the tremor, the fear that encased those words.

It was the future that plagued him, the one he had been running towards while surrounded himself in chaos, the one that terrifies him to admit he wanted or felt deserving of at one point…horrified at the idea of slipping back to it.

It was those thoughts that always kept him up at night, the ones that had him weeping in your arms when he got out of rehab, and still to this day will occasionally do. Dieter was not normally one to be soft, especially when you first were together. It would have been easier to pull a tooth from his body, to have him go a month without sex, than have him talk about what was truly bothering him. Rehab thankfully helped that, and slowly since then it was easier for him to be more vulnerable with you, and you cherished every fucking moment he was.

“Well, I can confidently say that the world is grateful that you both found each other on the set of that film! Not only for the great cinema but because you both continue to seem more in love as the days go on!” Elle said in a cheery voice but you could feel the ice behind her words, the envy that it was you and not her. You just smiled as best as you could. “Last thing, Dieter, if I can?” Elle eagerly interjected as you were preparing to walk away. Dieter just raised his eyebrows and rocked his head forward to her.

Elle took a deep breath as Dieter got flirtatiously close, all while still holding onto your hand.

“There is buzz going around that you will be working with Javier Gutierrez on his next project, is that correct?” Dieter perked up at the question and you couldn’t help but smile, both at Dieter’s eagerness to answer a question he hadn’t gotten yet today and because of your own eagerness for that project.

“Yes!” Dieter answered enthusiastically. “I am very excited to work with Javi, he is a great guy, easy to get along with and it’s going to be a good time.”

“Some people are saying that there are already Oscar talks in regards to this film. What are your thoughts on that?” Dieter waited for the mic to be in front of his face to give an exaggerated groan.

“It’s a crock of shit—movie isn’t even written yet, how the fuck are they to know if it will be any good?” Dieter bit at the question and you tried very hard to not smile. You knew many would take Dieter’s words for saying the project could be shit, but it was because of his deep distaste for the ‘theatrics’ of the acting world that he snapped and bit back. He hated critics, reviews and all of that ‘shit’ while equally hating how fundamental it was to the success of a film.

Unfortunately, for Elle, she was one of those people who didn’t know what to do with Dieter’s response.

“Thank you both for your time!” She concluded with a small and awkward nod of her head but Dieter just dipped his body to catch her gaze before giving a soft and reassuring smile, putting on his charm for the camera and the woman.

“And thank you for yours, Elle from E! News. See you around.” He added in a way where you knew he would be asking you to bring her home sometime during the after-party of that evening's event.

--x--

“Our deal still stands, yeah?” You asked loudly as you put your last earring in, fluffing out your hair and checking every angle of your face to make sure your makeup was properly applied; there was no room to not look your best for tonight’s dinner.

“You really want to fuck him, huh?” Dieter called out from the bedroom, his voice echoing in a way that told you he was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, patiently (for now) waiting for you to get ready. You smiled as you did your tenth look over, slightly shifting your red silk dress so that it hugged all of your curves properly while draping where it should. The moment you started to think about how you would fuck yourself for looking this good you knew you were ready.

Dieter whined your name from the other room, deprived of your attention for more than a minute. His little protest did tempt you to make him wait a bit longer but you couldn’t do the same to your dinner date.

“Look at how I am dressed and answer that question.” You ordered Dieter as you walked into the bedroom, the dress draping at your feet, a small amount of fabric pooling on the floor but you knew his eyes were on the prominent slit that exposed your entire leg and thigh. His eyes fell on you, his intent to be dramatic and childish evident in his actions before he took you in and immediately leapt off the bed to snatch you into his arms.

“The answer is if he doesn’t fuck you, I will.” Dieter growled as he pulled you towards him, one arm wrapped around your waist, his lips to your neck and his other hand gripping onto the flesh of your bare and exposed thigh. His actions pulled a faint, shaken, gasp.

“Dieter…” you whispered as you let your head roll back, his lips moving from your neck down to the pillowy tops of your breasts, calling to him, pressed and positioned to already be slightly spilling from the top, demanding his attention.

His sloppy and wet kisses twisted your stomach and his soft, deliberate bites had you groan in boiling desire, already excited in anticipation of what tonight could bring, what you could get if you flirted well enough, but it was always the way Dieter grabbed you that made your pussy pulse uncontrollably.

Quickly you reached down to swoop the fabric of your dress as far from your body as possible before hooking your exposed leg over his hip, pulling on his hair so that his face was just below yours.

“You going to be a greedy, dirty boy and fuck me first, hmn?” You asked and Dieter immediately let out a whimper, his hungry and demanding gaze shifting into a soft, eager and submissive one. You used your leg to pull his body closer to yours and you could feel your wet pussy rest against his already rock-hard bulge. Lightly you pulled his hair a bit more while equally pressing into his cock. “You want to fuck me, don’t you? Want to rip this pretty dress off of my body, fuck me like a whore on the floor or restrained against a wall?”

You waited for him to respond as you grinded against him, yet all Dieter could do was let out a soft, satisfied, sigh as he closed his eyes. It was fucking irresistible.

“Take your fucking pants off and fuck me. Now.” You demanded of Dieter and his eyes shot open, his hands quickly moving to undo his belt buckle as he watched you with a deadly serious expression that only cracked when he harshly shoved his cock into you.

Your body lurched forward at the motion, but you knew better to recover for it was easier for Dieter to fuck you like this if he could control where and how your body swayed.

Instead, your lips found his earlobe and gave it a light nibble, coaxing from Dee an immediate groan and increase to his pace. Your hands traced over his face and neck, always moving, trying to grasp onto his skin or hooking your fingers into his beard and hair as you moaned into his ear.

“Your cock feels so good, baby.” You cooed as you swirled a nail on his cheek in a way you knew drove him wild, immediately feeling the effects of your praise. “You fuck me so good. Such a good boy, Dee. Such a…Fu-uck,” you stuttered, your head momentarily falling to his shoulder as Dieter fucked you with unbelievable ferocity, bending his body so that he could press into that place that always left you unravelled around him.

Your praise having a very immediate and physical response from Dieter.

“We do have a dinner to get to.” He teased, and despite you knowing there was no way he was going to leave here without feeling you twitch around his cock, you did not want to take any chances.

“Dee,” you growled before his thrust forced a moan from your lips, “you better fuck me until you make me come on that—” your speech was cut off with another thrust against your sweet spot, your head rocking back once again, “fucking godly cock.” You finished your sentence, your voice low and strained as your head fell as far back as it could.

Dieter’s mouth was immediately upon your throat, sloppy open-mouthed kisses mixed with grunts as he continued to rabidly fuck you like a dog in heat. Your throat closed as he brought the pleasure stirring within you to a boil, small choking gasps were the only sounds that could be let out until your body allowed you to scream in release, Dieter doing the same.

You melted around him and against him, feeling his release fill you as he twitched against your walls.

“Don’t you get any on my dress.” You growled a warning into his ear, your arms wrapped around his head as you held onto him for support. Dieter just chuckled and you smiled—he knew he would be in for some unpleasurable pain if he damaged something so beautiful of yours without your permission. “You are such a good boy, baby.” You praised him with another kiss to his temple. “Let me get cleaned up and we can get going.”

-x-

The restaurant Dieter chose for you all to meet was gorgeous, small and intimate, with only twenty tables, at most, within the establishment. The moment you walked past the entrance your eyes fell to the table in the center of the room where Javi sat, alone. His gaze perked up at the sight of you and Dieter and he immediately stood up, raising his hand as high as he could into the air and waved at you both—as if you were at risk of not seeing him.

Dieter took your hand to steady you as you descended the short set of stairs into the dining area. He always took it and never offered, a fact that would have made you smile if you weren’t already from how Javi reacted to you both. Looking down at the stairs helped hide your expression from both men and allowed you enough time to compose yourself.

Javi was ready with your chair out, helping you get seated and giving you an enthusiastic, suave, nod of his head, his smile spreading to impossible widths as he watched you before turning his attention to Dieter.

“It is so lovely for you two to join me, thank you.” He reached out and clasped Dieter's hands within his, providing a short, firm, and affectionate shake of their hands before he released them and sat back in his chair. “I hope you do not mind, I took the liberty of ordering some tapas—I was looking at the menu and getting hungry.” He explained softly, a light and shy smile given as an apology.

“Didn’t mean to be late.” Dieter responded and an immediate sign of relief showed in Javi’s expression when he realized that there was no upset with his forward action—an action that was entirely tame, domestic, by your standards, not forward in the slightest.

Cute. You thought to yourself with a sweet smile.

“Javi, this is—” Dieter began to introduce you but Javi sprang from his seat to kneel next to you, grabbing your hand in such a flurry of actions you were truly startled—even Dieter was stunned into silence and you couldn’t truly recall the last time that ever happened without you being fully naked, exposed and in an extremely creative and demeaning position.

“Dieter told me so many things about you, shown me so many photos yet you are more beautiful in person.” He greeted you earnestly before planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “I have to say before dinner begins, otherwise it will eat me from the inside, that I have fallen in love with the art Dieter has shown me of yours.” His confession had you snap your head to Dieter, a look of hurt and concern mixed into your soft emotions from receiving Javi’s praises.

Dieter knew how sensitive you were about your art, about it being shared with others, your fear of any chance of it being exposed and left for ridicule from the world.

“Do not blame him, princesa, I took his phone and looked myself. He only told me after how you did not wish this to be shared, and so I needed to apologize to you for I did not mean to offend such a beauty as yourself, but you must know that you have a gift that must be shared.” He rambled through his confession, still on one knee before you, your hand delicately held in both of his while his head took a dramatic dip. “It has been too long since my eyes have rested on something that evoked such passion. I needed to meet you, and I apologize for the secrecy of that agenda. Forgive me.” He begged you at the end, but his words left you utterly speechless.

Not only had he seen your art, the art you most likely had painted in your home studio, the art you had created from some of the most vulnerable places as you had worked through your own issues while Dieter started his sobriety, but was Javi confessing to orchestrating this dinner so he could meet you?

You couldn’t believe it.

Thankfully the waiters with the small appetizers arrived at the table, interrupting your ability to reply—even though you were still lacking the words. Javi moved back to his seat but his worried eyes did not leave yours. You glanced towards Dieter, who was simply acting as an amused bystander to the whole ordeal.

“I am glad my work could evoke such devotion.” You managed to murmur, looking at the table and feeling uncharacteristically bashful, as if you had a thousand cameras pointed at you, hundreds of microphones shoved in front of your face, demanding to know everything you were feeling. No man’s attention had ever stirred you like this. Dieter has done, and does, many things to you even with a single glance, tortures you, makes you crave for a single lick of his affection, but it never like this yearning—this sudden desperation and loss over something you never knew you needed, had or ever lost.

The temperament settled for a bit after that, food distracting you as the men diverted into discussing their movie and what they wanted it to be about. Two lost brothers, separated by birth in a war-torn country, reconnected as older men to rediscover themselves and what they had lost.

It sounded like a lovely story, an emotional concept and most definitely something that would carry ‘Oscar Buzz’ if done correctly—which you had no doubt these two brilliant minds would accomplish.

They continued with that conversation until dinner arrived, and Javi, once again, glanced at you with his shy smile.

“My apologies, mi amor. We did not mean to exclude you.” He apologized and proceeded to patiently wait for your response.

“Quite alright, you had to hold up the facade of why this dinner was originally requested.” You teased him with a wink, his cheeks immediately going crimson. Quickly, he glanced down at his plate and pushed his vegetables around with his fork.

“Indeed, I would not wish for someone to get the wrong idea.” Javi agreed lightly before shoving the vegetables he played with into his mouth, nervously chewing. You followed him, cutting a piece of your steak, swooping it into your mashed potatoes before placing it in your mouth. Your gaze did not leave Javi’s, you wanted to see how his expression pinched and shifted as you wrapped your tongue around your food to bring it into your mouth, a small smirk present as you chewed.

It was your smirk that seemed to make Javi realize he had been staring and he brought his attention back to the plate in front of his face.

“What would be the wrong idea, Javi?” Dieter called out to the shy man, his forearms fully laid out on the table, fork and steak knife in hand as he watched Javi curiously.

Javi’s mouth opened and then closed. He looked at you quickly and then back to Dieter. It was evident he didn’t know what to do, didn’t want to say what he had already alluded to—that he was here for you.

That he wanted you.

“Did Dieter tell you I spent a year in Spain?” You asked Javi, gently providing him with an out from the topic he wanted to avoid, a topic you would circle back to later, but for now, you needed to relax the poor man.

“No, he didn’t!” He informed, immediately falling into the trap of your question, or simply forgetting his previous worries while getting lost in your gaze and presence. Either option made you happy. “Please, tell me of it.” He asked politely yet his eyes begged you to share with him.

“Dénia es donde pasé mi tiempo.” You softly responded, telling him of the place you lived while there. “It was a lovely city that gave me a lot of healing and peace.” You added the last part in English so that Dieter did not feel completely left out of the conversation however the way Javi’s soul seemed to leap towards you when you spoke his native language could have ended you.

“Your Spanish, cariño...” Javi whispered as he shifted his body to fully face you, a slight quiver to his wide, puppy dog, eyes. “You should never have to speak another way.” Javi paused, his mouth open, little twitches giving the impression he still had something else to say, which he eventually got out. “Háblame así te lo ruego.” He whispered his plea, his spoken beg, for you to speak to him in his native tongue.

No person, no matter how strong their will was, could resist such a sweet request from an even sweeter man.

Immediately you and Javi dove into a fast paced conversation, Spanish rolling off your tongue as if it was your native language, Javi’s eyes widening as he engaged with you.

Dieter immediately started drumming his fingers against the table with impatience. He managed to hold in his words a lot longer than you thought he would, given how quickly he becomes pouty when you flirt with other men.

“I don’t fuckin’ speak that,” Dieter interjected, Javi’s eyes immediately darting to look at him as he leaned back into his chair—you hadn’t noticed how close you both had leaned into each other. With a smirk, you gracefully turned to look at Dieter.

“I would think for a piece like this, you would learn his language.” You pouted to him playfully, but something in the base of your belly screamed at how you would love to hear that beautiful language come out of that man while he had you under him—all the degrading and dirty ways Dee would speak to you. Javi enthusiastically agreed with a solid and excited ‘Yes!’, regarding Dieter learning Spanish, but neither of you heard him.

You watched as Dieter initially rejected the idea almost immediately, knowing he would have to put a substantial amount of effort into something that was for a single role. It had been a part of his re-instated values for himself when returning to acting while ensuring his sobriety. He wasn’t going to deep dive into the method, and he wasn’t going to get lost in it…he needed to always want to be grounded within himself—or within you.

But as you just watched him, line after line of what you wanted to hear Dieter say passing from one ear to another, you felt your body fill with an insatiable lust for something you could not have but desperately wanted. It was the subconscious bite of your lower lip that made Dieter shift his expression, suddenly realizing that there was a reason to learn such a thing beyond a single role, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was.

“What do I get out of it?” He asked you, his words quick, voice low to match the darkening behind his gaze and the flare of his nostrils, a corner of his mouth twitching upwards. You smiled, feeling like you had managed to lure Dieter and catch him with your request, now you just had to reel him in.

Slowly you leaned forward, lifting your body from your seat so that the tips of your noses were almost touching. While Dieter was fully focused on you, the world around you two most definitely melding away in his mind, you were very mindful of Javi’s gaze on you both and you couldn’t help but wish to catch two fish with one net.

“You show me what you do with that mouth,” you whispered, your finger raising to run over Dieter’s cracked lips as your eyes followed, before snapping your gaze back to meet his, “and I promise to show you something new I can do with mine.” You saw the relaxation within Dieter’s gaze, a momentary release from the tension you knew was building within his body, satisfied with your terms.

You knew it drove him wild when you would act forwardly in any public setting, especially one as intimate as this, with little to allow you to hide. Dieter’s gaze held a promise he would later show you how satisfied your words left him feeling.

“Wow!” Javi exhaled the word like it was his last, exasperated, breath and it reminded you and Dieter to pay attention to the other member of this dinner party. You turned to apologize, wanting to be polite yet desperate to know if you had caught two fish with your little display, and as you saw Javi watch you with childish awe and excitement, you knew it had worked.

His eyes washed over your body as his eyebrows fell into rest as he continued to soak you up, a soft and shy smile twitching across his lips before he looked at Dieter.

“I now understand, my friend, what you meant when we first met.”

All Dieter did was provide a shrug full of self-satisfied pride as you rested back into your chair, brazenly crossing your legs in a way that let both men have a peek at what lay beneath your silken dress—nothing but your beautiful, delicious, soaked and well fucked, pussy.

They both could not help but look, Dieter naturally adding flares and dramatics to his motions, while Javi briefly unabashedly stared before locking eyes with you and giving a few soft, short, and shy nods before quickly casting his gaze to the ground.

It brought a satisfied and endearing smile to your lips as you reached out a hand to rest it on top of Javi’s, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. It felt impossible how soft his sun-kissed skin was, how warm his hands felt under yours—it all matched his aura and demeanour.

Truly, the man was more enamouring than you could have ever imagined and you could tell the gesture was something he greatly appreciated and responded to based on how lost and lonely he looked when you withdrew your hand, turning your gaze back to Dieter who seemed to be watching the same thing.

“You saying sweet things about me, love?” You ask with a false sense of surprise, Dieter softly laughing before gesturing an open hand towards Javi.

“You wanna tell her what I said?” He asked, pitching his chin to his chest to be able to look at the man above his sunglasses. That posture alone always made your nostrils flare so you could breath deep enough to stop your heart and pussy from beating too fast.

But when you saw how you saw Javi squirmed at the question? Well, that made your thighs clench and pussy unequivocally quake.

His eyes darted to you as you leaned towards him, purposefully positioning yourself so your plump breasts were pushed up and within anyone’s vision if they were to look at your face. You watched as his throat slowly clenched as he strained to swallow, the tight shirt he wore giving away to the short and shallow breaths he was allowing himself as he gained the faintest red hue to his complexion. With a final, sharp, breath, he looked back at Dieter as if to clarify if he should.

Your eyes did not leave Javi, so you had no idea what Dieter did, but you assumed it was a gesture or mouthed words, for Javi hesitantly looked back at you while bearing a grave expression as if he was about to tell you one of your loved ones had passed away.

It swirled a storm in your stomach to see innocent Javi torture himself over whatever Dieter told him about you, which would have been nowhere near the worst and most degrading things he has said about you or to you. Yet you could see it tear your sweet Javi apart from the inside, afraid to hurt or offend you while what his vision soaked in evoked an opposite desire.

You slowly reached out and placed your hand on his.

“Whisper it to me in Spanish, Javi.” You softly asked of him, your gaze not leaving his while giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. You could see it twist him on the inside before giving a few short, shallow, nods of his head.

“Now I really understand what you meant.” He spoke as if out of breath, his chest rising and falling as one would from running a marathon, yet he still did not repeat the things Dieter said.

“You still haven’t told me what sweet praises Dieter said about me…” You whispered this time as you dragged your index finger over his hand and up his arm, lightly pressing your pointed nail into his skin. Suddenly Javi grabbed your hands and cradled them within his, pulling you from how you had yourself positioned so that he could look at you directly with nothing but an earnest and soft expression of admiration.

“Encantadora...” He whispered to you, but you knew that wasn’t what Dieter had told him because, among the many things he called you that you loved to hear, he would have never described you as ‘enchanting’. “He said you are like a pheromone, irresistibly beautiful and bright, a star from the sky among the mortal man.” Javi continued to whisper to you words you knew definitely would not have come from Dieter’s lips, and the realization of that evaporated your bravado as you suddenly became soft and entranced under Javi’s gaze and praises.

Briefly, the sound of Dieter’s sarcastic, amused, sharp laugh pulled you from Javi, but he squeezed your hands while his face tracked yours as it moved, his eyes always pinned to yours, a soft smile on his delicious lips.

“I did not think a person like that could exist but I finally understand why he made such claims...” Javi admitted, raising a hand briefly to kindly and gratefully gesture towards Dieter before turning his attention back to you. “Look at you, hermosa, in all of your glory.” He whispered his praise as he continued to acknowledge you with unimaginable awe and disbelief.

The words and expressions were too much, causing you to widely smile and uncharacteristically pull your hand away to cover your face, overwhelmed and extremely bashful from all of his compliments. Silence lingered for a moment, Javi’s hands still gripping your single one, his thumbs delicately drawing circles over the back of it which only caused you to blush harder.

“No…shit!” Dieter exclaimed with a small slam of the table, quickly realising his antics and apologizing to the others around them. He leaned into the table, you barely seeing him as you continued to cover your face and look down, trying to search and sense what was going on in your body and mind. “This needs to fucking happen.” He demanded, stabbing his finger into the table with an intense amount of purpose. You felt Javi release your hand and sit back, worried he may have done something wrong while you felt your own sadness at the loss of his touch.

A quick glance at Javi told you he was confused by Dieter’s demands, but you knew what Dieter was referring to.

“I do not understand, Mr. Bravo, we already agreed to the movie?” Javi asked as his face pinched into an adorable expression of innocent confusion, acting as if he had completely forgotten where you and he had been just a moment ago, what sparks were erupting between you two, the carnal desires stoked from your locked eyes.

Dieter just grunted, evidently annoyed with the sweet man’s innocent mind.

“Can’t believe you guys are—Javi, she wants you to fuck her.” He bluntly stated and you watched as Javi’s eyes widened beyond their natural stretch at Dieter at his claim before looking toward you. “Love, Javi obviously wants to fuck you…who wouldn’t?” He added the question with a hand lovingly and hungrily running down your back. “And now, I need to fuckin’ see it happen. So…cheque? Cheque, please!”

Dieter looked around the room to see many eyes were now on the three of you after his loud proclamations on how Javi and you wanted to have sex and how Dieter greatly wanted to watch.

“Yeah, yeah.” He groaned while waving a dismissing hand towards a table of four seniors who looked at him with complete disgust. “We’re almost out of here, we just need our CHEQUE! PLEASE!” Dieter bellowed and you had to hide your grin, knowing his fury simply came from his pent-up sexual excitement and tension.

To see you openly flirt with another man, to see you position yourself for him, for that man to show interest in you…that was all a part of the normal fun and games. What seemed to have sent Dieter over the edge into this lustful rage was seeing how Javi’s words affected you in a way his never had.

Thankfully you knew it wasn’t jealousy that fueled his immediate requirement to depart, to see you fucked by his Spanish doppelganger, but was due to the thrill, the adrenaline, along with a growing, desperate, need to see it happen.

He was about to open his mouth to yell again when a waiter ran to his side with the bill. Dieter put his card down on the tray, immediately groaning when the waiter fumbled at the machine.

“Charge whatever, I don’t care. Comp everyone who I fucking offended, how’s that?” He stressed his last word as if taunting the four seniors, ensuring to look directly at the women who still regarded him with sheer horror while the men smiled and waved their thanks—much to their wives dismay. “Here’s my signature…” Dieter grabbed the pen from the waiter’s jacket as Javi got up to pull out your seat and gracefully help you up. “Charge whatever the fuck you want, tip generously, whatever, but don’t fuck me over.”

He glanced at the shaking waiter, who looked no more than twenty, over his sunglasses before squinting at his name tag.

“Kevin, is it?” He paused long enough for the kid to nod. “Don’t fuck me, Kevin!” Dieter stressed before walking away. “I’ll be back tomorrow for my card and receipt.”

And with that, the three of you left to return to the apartment you and Dieter shared. Despite the short walk it was, Dieter had a car called for you all, only so he could sit and watch as Javi couldn’t keep his hands and lips off of you, and Dieter couldn’t keep his hands off his hard and exposed cock.

--x--

Dieter opened the door for you and Javi, a man that you now only saw as the human embodiment of an excited puppy with a cat’s luck. On point, Javi burst past you as you entered, walking ahead of you to slowly twirl as he basked in the apparent glory and wonder of your home.

“It is a beautiful home you both have here.” He told you both earnestly, Dieter just shrugged as he locked the door and tossed his keys into the small glass bowl near the door. However you were not so aloof about the compliment, but perhaps that was due to Javi saying those words while looking at you as if he had suffered a lifetime of longing for this moment, for you.

Whatever peculiar charm this man held was potent, powerful, and had secured an iron grip on your being. For a brief moment, you felt fear run down your spine, chills cascading ripples of goosebumps over your exposed skin. Never had you been so enchanted, so held, except for Dieter…your sweet, lovely, Dee.

The thought had you glance to him, a hand immediately reached out and latching onto his arm as Javi’s back was turned to you, his body wandering to wherever his eyes took him. Dieter stopped what he was doing to look at you, and you could see his brows twist in concern to give away how his eyes watched you behind those sunglasses.

He opened his mouth to say something to you but Javi cut him off.

“I wish to ask you more about this, my friends, but may you direct me to your—”

“There is a bathroom that way, you’ll find the door.” Dieter pointed for Javi, who hurried off into that direction, the opening and closing of doors echoing to you and Dieter as he returned to look at you. “Tell me...” He asked of you softly, his hand molding to your jaw and cheek, his thumb softly rubbing your skin until your pinched expression softened and you eyes closed.

Soft were Dieter’s lips when they came to yours, a motion of support for you, and when he withdrew from you, he left a smile on your lips.

“Not going to even slip me tongue?” You asked him, feigning concern and placing the back of your hand to his forehead. Dieter just chuckled as he dropped his hand from your face to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“You seemed upset.” He confessed with a small smile of his own. You hummed at him, playful yet feeling there was another reason he was being so sweet to you right now. Slowly you reached up and grabbed his sunglasses, enforcing your rule that within the walls of your home (balcony excluded) no sunglasses—there were also sex exclusions but those were given on a per-request basis.

“Being sweet on me, hmn?” You teased him, your lips parting as your smile grew until you gave a small, husky, chuckle of your own. Dieter scratched his beard while stretching and chewing his lower lip at your playfulness.

“Adorable.” He grumbled before untangling his fingers from his facial hair to hook behind your head, bringing you to him. This time his tongue did not ask for entry, did not coax, or negotiate, but demanded it. His hand continued to press you into him, his grip on your body tightening.

Dieter moaned into you as he became greedy with what he held, and it seemed that only when you both could no longer breathe did he release his lips from you. His firm and deliberate grip remained, allowing you to lay in his arms as you panted and gasped for breath.

“Scared you won’t be okay with just once with him, huh?” Dieter asked you, the breath you had managed to regain immediately snatched from your body.

He just smiled while slowly swiping his thumb over your lips as you continued to take short, shallow, panting breaths.

“I do not care if you have return visitors to our bed that are there for you, love. Just so long as you are okay with it.” You smiled at his whispered words, joy soothing the chilled spots on your body, releasing you from that fear as you watched Dieter look at you with nothing but absolute love and devotion.

“‘Cause we know you are down for anything.” You slyly joked, trying to control the excitement of what was ahead of you, with Javi and Dieter, from returning to you like a burst dam.

“Right,” Dieter confirmed with a soft chuckle, giving you another soft kiss, this time ensuring to lick into your mouth once before pulling away, his mischievous smirk present as he watched you. “He’ll be good for you, don’t fight your feelings about it,” Dieter added as he glanced over to the sound of an opening door. “I know he isn’t me, I ain’t threatened. Besides, he’ll be able to give you, in there, what I don’t want to.” He whispered into your ear and you felt your eyes flutter closed at the heat of his breath, the press of his nose, the brush of his lips but the lick of his tongue as he pulled away was unfair, torterous, yet so on point for Dieter.

Your stomach clenched as that lick had your mind rush to thoughts of where else you wanted that tongue, easily imagining what that would feel like, but then quickly wondering what it would feel like to have Javi’s tongue on you. How would that feel? What would he do? Or enjoy doing?

The thought that hit you like a derailed train, however, was wondering how marvellous his cock would be, how it would feel in your hands, in your mouth, on your tongue, in your—

Javi walked around the corner, pulling you from your thoughts immediately as he was back in your sight. His eyes met yours and he gave you his soft smile. You never stood a chance, the gesture and gaze causing the excitement you had managed to hold at bay earlier burst within you with torrential force.

You needed this man now.

“The interior is all her.” Dieter spoke out loud, walking towards Javi having already changed into slippers and one of his many housecoats that lived and hung by the front door. He flashed an impish smile at you, causing yours to faltered for a moment.

Dieter also seemed to have a sense of how badly you wanted to fuck Javi, especially in this particular moment, and he was showing that he intended to toy with you.

“Don’t lie,” you corrected with a playful raise of your eyebrow, following Dieter and walking towards Javi, “you were very particular about our aesthetic and you vetoed anything you didn’t like.”

“Yeah, but you picked it all.” Dieter retorted, holding his arms up in surrender like there was no further discussion to be had and he was victorious.

“He does have a point, querida,” Javi informed you with a heavy amount of regret. He walked towards you to rub your arms sympathetically, wishing to soothe the wounds of you losing a point you never tried to win. However, you weren’t about to tell this man to not hold you so delicately.

Glancing at Dieter, you smirked, and immediately thought to take advantage of your position to ensure he couldn’t interfere with what you wanted.

You leaned yourself into Javi’s embrace, twisting so your chest was pressed against his, his hands which held you now resting in the small curve at the base of your back.

Your arms snaked around his body and you could hear his breath quicken at your movements—it was intoxicating.

“I have to admit, Javi,” you whispered into his ear, “I wish to go to a more private space.” You made sure to breathe slowly, to drag your lips against his skin before they puckered into a soft kiss. “¿Te unes a mí, Javi?” You felt your question cause him to shiver, his head slightly rolling away from where your lips had been before he stepped away from you.

“Yes!” He earnestly answered your question with wide eyes and his arms outstretched, confirming he would follow you where you wish to take him. But there was a hesitance behind his gaze that you saw, so you waited. “First I would…well, uh—it is a bit embarrassing.” Javi squirmed as he seemed to struggle to ask for what he wanted in this moment, what he wanted from you and Dieter, and it drew you in immediately.

Whatever made his man squirm at the thought of, you wished to give him. Truly, you wished to give every part of yourself to him.

Something that had previously only ever been given to Dieter.

“¿Qué pasa, Javi?” You whispered again as you reached out a hand to grasp onto his tightening arms that were pinched across his chest. “You can ask anything of us, we will not judge. Dee is down for most things.” You added with a smile, turning back to look at the man you so dearly love to see him equally smirk back at you.

“She doesn’t lie,” Dieter added, speaking directly to Javi. “About myself or that there is nothing you cannot ask in this place.” Javi gave a large nod, rocking his torso along with his head, as he appeared to be psyching himself up for what he was about to say.

You took the moment of his body returning from it’s physical nod to nestle your way into his arms again, your lips at the back of jaw, below his ear.

“I will give you every part of me, Papi.” You whispered your promise, laying yourself bare at Javi’s feet to feast on. To have, to take, to claim. The roar of Javi taking a steep inhale deafened you.

“Eres perfecto…” Javi whispered, his lips soft as they pressed against your neck. “Una diosa.” He hissed the praise, as if pained by your godly presence before he brought his face before yours, his eyes searching your features. “Can you please show me all of your art?” He rushed through the words as he darted between looking at you and Dieter.

You broke away from Javi in shock at his question before turning to look at Dieter. The two of you shared a look of confusion before you burst out in laughter.

Here you thought this man was about to ask you both to fulfill some depraved fantasy, yet, once again, you had underestimated how innocent and kind he was.

“Everything I have seen has been so beautiful and I just wanted to be able to look upon it—” he started to ramble nervously, but you just returned to his arms, lacing your fingers with his.

“Come.” You gently said as you pulled on his arm, walking through your living room.

Although you and Dieter lived in an apartment, it was really a penthouse. The entire top level, numerous rooms, too many bathrooms and space for a large studio space to share.

You pulled harder on Javi’s arm, dragging him forward so he would walk by your side. Seeing him stumble forward made you want to just push him up against the wall, but you were able to resist…almost. You placed your lips right next to his ear, his loose, light brown, curls resting against your face.

“Will you help me remove my dress before we enter?” You asked, lightly kissing his adorable earlobe, licking it into your mouth to briefly suckle and moan before removing yourself from him. Javi watched you, entranced and uncaring to anything else around him, freely allowing you to guide him through your home. “I can’t risk getting paint on it and Dee pulled the lace really tight so I can’t do it myself…” You pouted your practical facts and Javi’s pure, blissfully large smile spread across his lips.

“You are right! We cannot ruin something so beautiful.” He stressed as if he would start a war over the matter, his smile fully infecting you as you forced yourself to look away to try to remain composed and not melt into a giggling, blushing, puddle.

Slowly you stopped in front of the door, turning yourself so your back was to Javi. Gently you bunched and pulled your hair over one shoulder while peeking at him over the other. That delicious smile of his returned to his lips before he brought them to your exposed skin, lightly planting the softest, warmest, kisses along your back and shoulders while you felt his fingers slowly unlace your dress.

You looked over at Dieter, who rested against the closest wall, with the faintest smirk, his fingers attached to his mouth as he nervously bit with growing tension and excitement behind his gaze. Slowly you raised your hand to press your sleeve playfully and dramatically off your shoulder, giving him a small pout. Dieter chuckled with amusement and approval.

“Have I lost your attention, mi amor?” Javi whispered into your skin, his soft beard tickling you as you felt yourself blush and look away from Dieter, who only raised his eyebrows playfully at you as you did.

“I’m sorry.” You found yourself bashfully apologizing as your arms wrapped around your front, Javi pulling the lace through the last loop and letting it fall to the floor. Slowly you turned to look at Javi, your hands clinging to your chest and you felt yourself tremor under his soft and loving gaze.

Without missing a moment, Javi brought himself closer to you, his hands cradling your face, his thumbs barely present on your skin, but you felt the batting of his heavy breath against your lips.

“Just tell me how to keep it.” He whispered his plea before kissing you, a gentle moan escaping the tame man as his thumbs pressed against your cheeks.

You wanted Javi to know he had your attention, that it was his to have and command in this moment. Slowly you raised one arm and then another until you felt the weight of the fabric pull it to the floor. You snaked your arms through his, forcing his embrace to fall and wrap around your naked and exposed frame.

Heat coursed through your veins as you felt Javi grip at your flesh once he took hold of your body, ensuring that every part of him that could hold you, did. A desperate moan escaped you as you forced your kiss deeper, pulling his neck and head closer to you, grappling at his body.

With surprising strength, Javi tightened his grip around you, pinning you to him, so tightly it was even a bit hard to breathe—but it wasn’t something you minded. If anything, it aroused you more to see Javi act this way than if Dieter were you pin you like this. It was expected from him, but you have obviously driven Javi to this intensity?

God, take you now for you will never feel more powerful or closer to holy divinity, than how it felt to have two delicious men devoted to your pleasure, devoted to your well being, your happiness...while both capable of being switches.

As quickly as his intensity came, it left as you felt Javi immediately back away from his iron grip, his arms loosening, your lungs finally able to fully expand again. You you let your lips travel from his down to his chin and then neck. You could hear him panting, light small grunts accompanying each one.

It was a sound you were beginning to crave.

“You still wish to see the art, my sweet Javi?” You asked him as you nipped at his chin affectionately.

“I’d say he has a pretty fine piece right there.” Dieter finally spoke, breaking free from being the fly on the wall, to walk towards the door that led to the studio.

He made a deliberate and exaggerated point to step over the fabric pooled on the floor that was your dress. Dieter grabbed the handle and swung himself so his back was pressed to the door, dramatically looking to Javi.

“Know that we don’t share this space with anyone.” He advised Javi with an enticing seriousness before unlatching the door and allowing the weight of his body to swing himself and the door into the room. Javi, still holding you, kissed the spot where your jaw met your ear.

“Bella,” he whispered before releasing you from his hold to walk into the studio, yet he made sure one of his fingers remained hooked onto yours. You felt your whole body blush as you smiled and followed, your hand raising to cover your face as you passed Dieter.

“I love seeing you so bashful.” He commented with a smile. “Fuck,” he pronounced as he slapped your ass, “you’re so perfect.” He added in a sweet rumble as he followed you, his words only reminding you of when Javi told you the same thing in Spanish.

You wanted to look back to see Dee’s perverted smile but you remembered Javi’s whisper, his plea for your attention, so you pulled your hands together and laced your fingers with his.

Javi glanced back to look at where your bodies connected, his eyes naturally following your arm to the rest of your body before falling to your eyes. You watched as his smile grew as he took you in but it was the strongest when he locked with your eyes; it made you quiver.

For a moment they held you, suspended with anticipation, before he swung his body in a circle, once again, to look around at the numerous canvases that were hung on the walls, propped against furniture or still on their easel.

All mediums of paint were scattered around, some in organized areas while others would take you an hour or more to get the whole set that you bought them as. Numerous white tarps stretched the floor, splattered with a multitude of colours from years of use—from times before you and Dieter lived together.

“It is beautiful.” Javi gasped. “I am so honoured that you show me this.” He told you with his characteristic grave seriousness before he gave you a short and firm kiss. “And you, as well,” Javi said, walking towards Dieter with his arms stretched out. Dieter leaned in for a hug, expecting a warm embrace, so he was shocked when Javi gave Dieter the same, short and firm, kiss as he had given you.

But the one he gave Dieter lingered for a bit longer.

Long enough, at least, that you saw Dieter’s body relax at Javi’s touch and affection.

“You have very soft lips.” Javi complimented Dieter who just gave the man a perplexed look before quickly nodding, the lack of verbal reaction worrying Javi. “I apologize if I misunderstood—”

“No,” Dieter stopped him, putting up a hand, “definitely my thing I just…misunderstood you, is all,” Dieter said with a smirk before his eyes flicked to you to see you blushing as your two boys realized what they could have with each other.

Oh, the things I will watch them do. The thought caused waves to roll and twist your stomach with craving and desire, and you knew it showed by how Dieter’s expression shifted and how wide Javi’s eyes went in surprise.

Your eyes connected with Javi’s and immediately you slunk towards him.

“Tell me which one you like the most,” you asked of him as you moulded yourself to his side, “and if it’s mine, you get a prize.” Javi’s head jerked to look at you, his eyes dancing with excitement and anticipation, his lips twitching as if they had a thousand words they wished to speak in this single moment.

“What if it’s mine.” Dieter interrupted, both you and Javi glancing towards him. Your eyes remained on Dieter yet you saw Javi look back at you before his lips fell to your jaw.

“Yes, mi amor, what if it is Dieter’s work?” Javi whispered the question and you couldn’t help but moan and melt in his arms—fuck, he better pick yours.

“Then Dieter gives you a prize.” You said, knowing you needed to play along, play fair, now that Javi was also being shared. Dieter smiled with approval, and Javi kissed his into your skin before breaking from you to walk around the studio to look at the multitudes of work.

Dieter, not wishing to waste a moment, snaked his body around you, pinning your back to his chest as he hugged you from behind.

“I love you so much, baby,” Dieter whispered as one arm started to drift down your stomach. “I bet you’ve been thinking of what it’s going to be like to have Javi fuck you, haven’t you?” He asked the question but you knew better than to answer.

Dieter nipped his pleasure at your silence against your neck as his hand reached down to grip your thigh, your gaze following a gently wandering Javi who was oblivious to what was happening behind him.

“I’ll know you’ve been a dirty little girl if you’re wet for me, hmn?” Dieter whispered, his other hand slipping upwards to your collarbone as you felt two of his fingers plunge between your folds to swim in the undeniable evidence of your arousal that had stayed locked and hidden within.

Hearing the satisfied chuckle against your skin made you shake.

Little would make you happier than to have Dieter bend you over and stick his dick in you right now. The worst part about that craving was that even though he wasn’t going to do it, you knew Dee was thinking about it.

“Oh, baby, you are so good to me.” Dieter growled into your ear as you heard Javi softly speaking to himself, debating on which piece spoke to him more. “I’m gonna make sure your cunt gets so fucking stretched today. You want that, hmn?” He asked you, his hand rising from your collarbone to rest on your throat, the pressure immediately being applied.

This was when Dieter wanted you to speak—when it was hard to.

“Mhmn.” You tried to confirm but from the light chuckle and sweet kiss from Dieter, you knew it wasn’t enough.

“Use your words, my love.” He told you, his grip tightening.

“Both. I want both in me.” You strained to say, Dieter’s grip releasing and immediately replaced with a kiss and lick of his tongue, a sign you pleased him.

“I’ll give my baby what she wants,” he promised you as his drenched fingers parted from you and were raised to your face, “so long as she’s good.” He taunted, and you immediately knew what he wanted to you do.

What you needed to do to be good.

Opening your mouth wide, you stuck out your tongue as far as you could so that Dieter could place his cum covered fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your tongue until you felt them enter your throat.

“Good.” He whispered, a word you recognized as a command so you closed your mouth, your tongue swirling around and parting his fingers, ensuring to fully clean them. As Dieter removed his fingers from your lips, reaching down for another round, Javi came around a corner from a part of your studio you did not expect him to have wandered.

“I have decided.” He informed you both with a bright smile, his eyes taking in the position Dieter had you in with a ferocity washing over his expression. Your curiosity of what he would have done at that moment if Dieter didn’t immediately release you would plague you for a few days to come, you were sure, but it wasn’t the time to focus on such things.

You would suffer those delicious, depraved, thoughts later.

“Show us, love.” You told Javi, walking towards him and reaching out a hand for him to grab. Javi stepped forward so that he could connect with you sooner, hurriedly rushing you to the piece he had chosen as his favourite. The adorable nature in which he rushed took you from the pressing hope and need that the art he chose was yours and the dread of having to watch Dieter pleasure Javi instead of you—not because you didn’t want to see that, but only because you wanted to do it first.

You were never as good with sharing as Dieter was.

When Javi stopped in front of the art piece he had chosen, you looked up with mixed emotions. It was a painting that, although yours (yippee!), carried some of the heaviest emotions with it from any piece you had ever painted.

“This!” Javi said as his arms shot out in front of him, having let go of your hand to do so. You blinked, trying to compose yourself, to not get lost in the image and get pulled away from the moment. Looking at Javi helped.

“Mine.” You said with a smile before leaning against him. “Tell me what you love about it, Javi.” You whispered his name as you pressed your face against the side of his, one arm draped across his shoulders for support, while the other hastefully reached down to start undoing his belt. You needed to get lost in him before you got lost in the fears of your future or the daunting, suffocating, shadow of your past.

The very thing that piece depicted, the emotions trying to rip open the chasm deep within your soul as you glanced towards the wide, chaotic, strokes of black and blue oil paint against the bright background.

No. Not now, not right now. You willed yourself back to the moment, back to Javi, and ensuring to take extra measures so you couldn’t see anything about the piece.

“Well it, uh,” Javi began but quickly became distracted by what was happening below him, his eyes immediately falling to your hand. “I can help—” Javi offered as his hands reached for the belt, but you moved to bat it away, turning your back to the canvas and dropping to your knees as you pulled his belt from the last loop in his pants.

“I think I asked you a question.” You informed him as you gazed up at the beautiful and soft man. “Concentrate.” You sweetly teased him before you tore at his pants, harshly pulling the fabric over the button and pulling his zipper down with lightning speed. It was a surprise that with the strength and desperation that you pulled down his pants, his boxers did not come with.

“Well, it is emotional and vulnerable.” He said, looking at the art you had made shortly after your first time in rehab. It was of a small dark ghostly figure, childlike, with a large and bright shadow looming behind it. To you, it symbolized how your past self was terrifying to live up to, that when you fell so far it felt, and still does most of the time, that you would never rise to those heights again. Never regain that level of talent and confidence.

Part of you wished to listen to his praise, while the other part wanted to block it out, to not have such sweet and tender words associated with everything that wasn’t that. Thankfully you had something to distract yourself from it all, something that was begging you to let it free.

“It’s, uhm,” Javi became distracted again as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, hungrily watching as his sizable, thick, cock sprung out and said ‘hello’ to you. Releasing the fabric in your hands, leaving the rest to gravity, you pressed your knees into the ground to twist your body and head so you could immediately take his soft, sweet, balls into your mouth.

With his hard, twitching, cock resting against your face, forcing one eye closed, you looked up at Javi, desperate to see how you were making him feel and immediately moaning at the sight. Slowly you dragged your tongue along the length of his cock until you suspended it with the tip of your tongue against his tip.

“Dios,” he groaned at your touch, “I have faced death, and lived, yet this makes me more nervous.” Javi choked on his words as you slipped your lips over the head of his cock, your eyes still locked to his as you moaned once more at seeing the small twitches in his expression, the slight sway to his stance. “Dieter,” he called out to the wallflower, his arm outreached, “I wish for you to join us.” He invited him and you couldn’t help but look to see what caused Dieter to hesitate.

Unlatching your lips from Javi you ensured to still have your tongue pressed against his cock, mouth open, before glancing to Dieter. You wanted him to see you in one of his favourite positions, but he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were glued to Javi.

You had never seen Dieter pause before, or hesitate, even if he only anticipated watching for the evening.

Perhaps he too was feeling the same effect Javi had on you. The same thing you were feeling earlier when you both had entered the apartment.

“Dee, baby, come.” You beckoned to him, your sultry voice shifting to one full of love and comfort for your man, while a small part of you wanted to hold back until you were certain Dieter was okay with the situation. That caught his attention and he gave you the softest smile before walking towards you both, a short, emphasized wink, given your way.

He was okay, and the realization gave you a sense of relief and joy as you plunged yourself back onto Javi who lurched forward at your touch, his hand jerking to your head, almost gripping your hair, before it relaxed and softened.

You couldn’t help but smile and moan at the realization Javi truly had another side to him, a side other than sickly sweet devotion. Yet knowing that you could coax that out of him, and have continued to do so tonight, had your free hand drape down your body to reach between your spread legs.

You wished to look up but you lost yourself in the feeling of Javi’s cock in your mouth, the stretch it gave to your lips, the pressure on your teeth as you forced your way down onto him until you felt him in your throat, until you couldn’t move any further. Slowly, with great effort, you pressed your tongue against him, sliding it out of your mouth in an attempt to lick the balls you had held until you gagged. Immediately you released yourself from Javi, gleaming at the sweet moan that escaped him, cum and spit connecting you two long after your lips had left him.

You watched Javi, desperately wanting to see his approval, to hear his praise of how you made him feel, what thoughts you evoked from your actions, but your attention was pulled away as you felt Dieter’s dominating grip on your arm.

“That’s for us to do, kitten.” He told you, moving the hand that you were using to touch yourself away from your body. “I got something else for you to play with.” He continued, a light growl behind his words as you heard him unzip his pants.

You wasted no time releasing Dieter's cock from its cage, smiling and letting out a happy gasp as you looked up at the two men towering over you, hard cocks pearling with anticipation of your touch, of your lips and mouth to be around them.

Biting your lower lip and glancing between them, you gripped each cock in one hand and rubbed their tips together—both men immediately closing their eyes, each of them letting out a soft moan or acknowledgement of pleasure.

You brought your tongue to them, moving against both of them as you continued to press them against each other. A wet smacking sound mixed with muffled groans brought your attention back to looking above you, only for your eyes to feast on Javi and Dieter locked in a deep, messy, kiss, their hands frantically grabbing at the other’s body.

The imagery was more than you expected or could handle. Immediately you took Dieter into your mouth, seamlessly taking his length as your hand moved over Javi’s, purposefully twisting, squeezing, and coaxing in ways you knew would make him feel good.

Yet from the way Javi broke from Dieter’s lips to moan and gasp at your efforts let you know it felt more than just good.

Then you swapped, your lips and tongue soothing the skin you had twisted and tortured as you gently moved Javi’s hard cock in and out of your mouth, your hand sliding over Dieter’s. You knew to hold harder with his, to drag your nails along his skin, to pinch and twist his balls as you handled him.

“Fuck.” Dieter hissed as you watched his stomach clench, his eyes immediately looking down at you only to hiss again as he saw you watching him, your eyes wide and soft as he liked you to look when you had a cock in your mouth—his or someone else’s. There was a glint in his gaze, a hungry, dominating, command, that had you remove yourself from Javi and return to Dee; your eyes never leaving his, your gaze never shifting.

Even as his hand clasped to the back of your head and forced his cock as far down your throat as physically possible, holding it there. You could feel your eyes water as they stung, knowing Dieter wouldn’t want you to blink, that to be good your eyes had to remain open until he looked away.

You were seconds from breaking before Dieter gasped and released you, your head jerking backwards as you gasped for air and coughed as some of his cum entered your airway. Javi bent to you, cradling you in his arms as you recovered, a hand grazing over your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear in Spanish, complimenting you for how well you handled them both, how he wished to reward you for all you endure with Dieter, to kiss those wounds better.

Javi whispered this, all while Dieter was muttering and hissing to himself as you knew he was fighting the urge to cum, to give himself the release his muscles and body were screaming for. His few, short, furious glances towards you only confirmed that.

With Javi’s last promise to kiss your wounds better, and once your breath had returned to normal, he brought his lips to yours, his tongue immediately entering you. To know he did not hesitate to kiss you this way, knowing he was tasting Dieter just as much as he was you, set a fire to your stomach and you lurched your body forward, pressing yourself to Javi with desperation.

You went to reach to grasp him again, but Javi softly stopped you, shushing you gently before giving you a light kiss.

“It is your turn,” Javi whispered against your lips before he kissed you again, his arms wrapping around your face to cradle you, once more, like you were a delicate flower.

“Indeed.” Dieter hastefully agreed and you felt your body grabbed and pulled until you were slung over Dieter’s shoulder. You knew where he was bringing you, and you also noticed that he purposefully carried you in a way that your eyes did not fall on ‘Javi’s Piece’, as you would come to call it.

Javi did not need instructions to know to follow you, and as you watched him excitedly, playfully, chase after you, it did not feel like it took long for you to get to your destination and be thrown onto the bed by Dieter.

Often Dieter had painted you on this bed, sometimes by yourself, sometimes innocently sleeping and the others with one…or more, individuals. Dieter always painting and sketching; never partaking.

Today would not one of those days.

You smiled as you watched Dieter, now fully naked, crawl onto the bed and then over you, sitting on your lower abdomen, his hard, throbbing cock resting against your soft skin before his large hands latched onto your breasts.

“God, I fucking love your tits.” Dieter mused and praised you, immediately taking your smile away with a firm pinch of your nipple, the pain causing your legs to rub together, your slick dripping onto the sheets as it was squeezed from between your legs.

“They are truly beautiful.” Javi agreed from the side of the bed, your gaze immediately falling to him, watching him stand by and slowly stroke his cock while he watched you and how your body twisted to show your arousal. His buttoned shirt was fully open, revealing his soft and fuzzy tummy that only invoked a desire to bite and lick it.

You felt yourself pout at how distant he was, naturally reaching out an arm, beckoning him as you felt Dieter start to lovingly massage your body, his lips nestling around the nipple he had pinched, his warm tongue and soft lips kissing and licking to soothe the tortured skin.

You were able to wrap a hand around Javi’s thigh, while Dieter sat back up, grabbing at your body with a newly vigoured roughness—you knew it taunted him when he didn’t have your attention, and you loved how he demanded it back. You looked up and watched Javi passionately stroke his cock while watching you softly, a sense of pride swelling in his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, Dieter’s twisted expression in your peripheral.

Your body jolted as you hissed at the unprompted sting when Dieter slapped your nipples harshly, your eyes darting to him, your eyebrows pinched from pain, your thighs clamping together and as you watched Dieter slowly smile with a dominating pleasure that you answered his demand for attention. You felt yourself soak the bedding beneath you. Sensing you shake under him, Dieter reached down to grip your chin, but Javi’s hands got in the way.

“Dieter, Dieter…you cannot treat such a gentle and precious woman in such ways.” Javi scolded him as he gently pushed Dieter off of you, the weight off of your stomach allowing you to finally take a full breath. “You must make love to her.” You felt Javi whisper into your ear as he crawled onto the bed, gently placing his knee in the crevasse between your thighs, asking for permission to enter. Slowly you spread your legs, feeling Javi’s skin slide along your soaked body, your gleaming arousal present for all to finally feel and see.

You felt Dieter, unable to help himself, reach down to grip your glazed thigh, deliberately dampening his fingers as you knew he would want to taste you. You wanted to look, to watch him place his fingers in his mouth, allowing you to imagine his masterful tongue swirling around them, wishing it was against your body instead, yet Javi cupped the side of your cheek to pull your gaze to him, his soft eyes dancing over your soft features.

You were instantly reminded of the moment before entering the studio when Javi wished for your attention and to keep it. You maneuvered your arm so that you could rest your hand against Javi’s cheek, your fingers lightly blocking Dieter’s frame from your peripheral and you smiled at Javi.

You were his to have, and you needed him to know that. Even if your eyes wandered.

“How is it that such a delicate and rare flower, such as yourself, can exist in this maddening world?” He whispered earnestly to you, begging for you to answer his question full of praise, before his lips found yours, his knee and thigh claiming the space between your legs, preventing anything else other than him from being against your wet, pulsing, heat.

Effortlessly his tongue slipped against yours as you felt his hand leave your cheek to caress the rest of your body. His earnest desire building for you only showed in the fierceness with which his lips moved against yours, the deliberate moans that seemed to be his effort to stop himself from taking more, his knee rocking up to press against your swollen clit, coaxing continuous soft moans and gasps from your lips.

“See…I think, she likes both.” You heard Dieter comment, his familiar grip returning to your nipple, twisting, and pinching as you clamped your thighs against Javi’s leg, shaking as you groaned in both pain and pleasure, craving for one of them to touch you, to stick anything into you, but you couldn’t beg…you were theirs to share; to have. “Don’t you, my love?” Dieter continued to ask and you knew you had to respond. “You love it when I’m rough? When Javi soothes that pain? You love it to have two men fucking you—don’t you?”

“Yes.” You told him as you watched Dieter crawl onto the bed, your head centred between his spread knees, his cock inches away from greeting your lips. Javi slowly moved towards the bottom of the bed, his hands and lips never leaving your skin.

“Yes, what?” Dieter stressed, his serious expression demanding your gaze as his thick fingers gently laced through your hair before jerking into a firm grip.

Your whole body tensed as you felt Javi’s tongue feel cool against your clit, the buildup and tension that had been growing since dinner, for days leading up to tonight, bursting within you. You needed it, all of it. You needed to be mindless, to feel nothing but to bask in a sea of the pleasures brought by their touch.

You raised your legs and wrapped them around Javi, your hand reaching down to lace into his soft, luscious, golden brown curls, your eyes never leaving Dieter.

“I love it when two people fuck me.” You groaned as Javi’s hand gripped onto your hips, pulling your body closer as his lips and teeth clamped and pressed against your body, purpose behind every stroke of his tongue. You whimpered as your chest shook, craving for one of them—both of them—to be inside of you. “I’ve been good.” You begged before you let out a small yelp that quickly transitioned to a deep groan as Javi moved a finger into you.

Your head went to rock back, but with Dieter not letting go of your hair, it only allowed your head to hang within his grip; a fact Dieter did not hesitate to take advantage of.

As you inhaled to recover from another pinched groan brought by Javi’s pleasurable and attentive efforts, Dieter pulled your face to him, using his free hand to guide his cock into your mouth before gripping your chin. He did not allow you any control over how you moved your head as he glided you along his cock as he pleased, you tried to prop yourself onto your side but with your legs twisted around Javi, it was not an easy maneuver.

Your eyes managed to strain towards Javi, to see him adorably peak up at you, his eyes dancing at what he saw before he slowly rocked and positioned himself so you could comfortably move onto your side, his lips and tongue not leaving you, and his fingers immediately re-entering you with reinforced numbers once you both settled.

Dieter, on the other hand, paid no attention or mind to any discomfort you may have felt as he continued to use you for his pleasure, which only made you happier. You kept watching Dieter until your eyes fluttered closed, your muscles rippling as you felt pressure rise where Javi held you. You wanted to moan, your body begged to be able to scream out the rupturing pleasures that were becoming untethered within you, but Dieter’s cock prevented and muffled those efforts.

Your grip on Javi released itself, your body losing the strength for it as your eyes rolled back in your head, Javi unrelenting in his growing earnestness to pleasure you, to lick your wounds, to erase the pain your body held. Something you thought possible if he never stopped.

A fourth finger entered you as Javi forced his face free from you, his nose, lips, and cheeks glinting with your cum, his skin red from where it was pressed against your body. He raised his face high enough so that you could look at him as Dieter now held your face in one place as he rocked his hips against you.

Javi’s expression was soft, his smile wide, as he lightly panted like a puppy to catch his breath.

Yet despite that softness, his fingers did not relent, and only moved within you with new vigour and force, rising until you could hear the sound of his knuckles slapping against your wet cunt and you bucked as another crash of pleasure errupted within you, desperate to escape from every pore on your body.

Dieter, knowing your signals well, pressed his body and cock into you, muffling your deep groan as you twitched around Javi’s fingers.

“I’m sorry, querida,” Javi whispered as he kissed your wet and sticky thigh, “that was unkind of me.” He told you as Dieter pulled himself off of you and Javi out of you.

All you could do was lay on the bed, panting to catch your breath as your brain tried to catch up to what was going on around you instead of focusing on how your pussy pulsed and how your blood rushed to all the wrong and unhelpful places within your body.

“You have been so good to us.” You heard Javi whisper but it was hard to tell how close he was, and you only assumed very as you felt arms that weren’t Dieter’s pull you so your back was against their chest; Javi’s chest. You rocked your head back, mostly because it was too heavy to hold at the moment, to gaze up to see the softest, sweetest, most caring eyes watching you.

It brought you a throaty, mindless, smile.

“Hola.” Javi lovingly greeted you and you closed your eyes, humming as your smile spread further at the sweet sound of his voice. “Let us give you what you wish, hmn?” He whispered again, and you felt your body moved once more, but this time with four hands.

Your mind finally came back to you as you realized Javi had positioned himself against the headboard of the bed, Dieter kneeled between his spread legs, and both men holding you high enough that the tip of Javi’s cock brushed the lips of your pussy.

“Relax, baby,” Dieter told you with a soft kiss on your lips. “We got you.” He confirmed and you slowly leaned back, Javi having positioned his chest to be able to greatly support the top of your back while leaving your lower suspended within their grip. Slowly you felt them lower you onto Javi’s cock.

You moaned as he entered you, his girth more than you had before—or so it felt at this moment. Your back arched as Dieter’s tongue was pressed against your clit before sliding lower to where Javi was slowly moving in and out of you.

“Javi.” You could only manage to whisper his name as you fully relaxed against his body, within his hold, his light chuckle brushing against your cheek feeling like the only thing you needed to live until his cock moved without you and instantly you were reminded of the finer things in life. You heard his labored breaths mixed with his soft grunts of pleasure and exhausted efforts as he moved within you, as Dee and him raised you up and lovingly lowered you onto him.

You could feel when Dieter’s tongue was on you, and you knew where it was when you couldn’t, if Javi’s increased panting didn’t give it away.

The lack of attention from Dieter didn’t upset you though, for it made Javi crave and take more of you, the movements of your body becoming harsher, less controlled, as Javi’s lips found you neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at your flesh when you saw Dee’s head dip with purposeful force. A feral moan from Dieter was accompanied by a firm, powerful, pull on Javi’s body that shifted your bodies forward yet it caused you to fall backwards from the lack of support of the headboard. Your full weight rested on Javi and you heard him groan as you shifted, only to look down between his thighs to know why.

“Shit…” Javi moaned before his arms wrapped around your torso, one hand firmly grabbing a breast while the other trailed lower until it rested on your swollen bud. Slowly he moved his fingers, his stomach rolling under you as he rocked in and out, Dieter moaning as you knew his tongue and mouth were either wrapped around Javi’s balls or occupying the base of his cock.

For a few minutes you were all tied up like that, your sweaty, hot, bodies grinding against eachother, a chorus of moans, groans and gasps of pleasure and surprise as you all devoured and enjoyed eachother. You arm bent back so your fingers could lace, once again, into Javi’s curls, pulled and twisting them so his sweet, soft, lips were once again pressed upon your body.

You felt yourself melt into Javi, your body rolling along with his muscles and tension as he moved into you, leaving you feeling like you were wading in a sea of pleasure when Dieter’s tongue returned to you like a storm rolling in to disturb your peace.

He licked and pinched and bit you before he soothed the touch with soft kisses, relieving Javi’s fingers from their duty to replace them with his own before slowly bringing his body upwards while still kneeling between Javi.

Dieter watched you with a slightly detached gaze, like he was half here, half lost in his thoughts of what he wanted to do in this moment—most likely to both you and Javi.

Javi, on the other hand, being very present with your body, still slowly rolling into you, teasing you, slowly building up your tension for release. Dieter would have done this to torture you, yet Javi seemed to bask in the glory of the slow, tender, love making you two were engaged in. His free hand pressed against your stomach as his lips kissed the back of your ear before repeating the multitude of compliments and praises he had already given you.

Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a lowly moan seemed to bring Dieter back to the present, as his fingers gripped you with a new sense of life and purpose.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked with a tight jaw as you forced your eyes open, straining to focus on him as your body pulled you back into your prone and gasping position. You opened your mouth to respond, to confirm, but Dee just growled, pressing his fingers into where Javi also occupied. “Does that make my little slut happy?”

“Our.” Javi proudly corrected with a defined and firm thrust, both of you gasping in pleasure as you could feel Dieter twist in you, most definitely ensure to touch Javi as much as he was touching you. The thought was numbing to think about, to dream about, yet unbelievable to know you were living through it. It was too much.

No longer could you push yourself to take more of them. To withhold your arousal, to stop it from peaking and spilling over. You needed that release.

You needed what was promised.

From the opposite ear that Javi whispered to you came Dieter’s dark, dangerous and husky voice.

“You like that, don’t you?” His question and tone rhetorical. “Being our little whore, our toy to play with.”

His words had to moan in response, a moan that quickly turned into a yelp as Dieter’s body shook with how much force he moved his hand against your clit.

“Don’t stop.” You couldn’t help from speaking the request as your throat tightened, your mind burning white at the heat coursing through your body, desperate for more of them. “Make me come, please fucking make me come!” You begged until you were yelling, Dieter’s gaze intent on yours, darkening the more he saw you unravel.

“You think you deserve to?” He asked you slyly, his roughness immediately stopping, causing an immediate snarl from you.

“I’ve been good!” You argued, furious at how he drew light circles around you, at how Javi returned to his slow, steady, and passionate rhythm when you just wanted to be manhandled by the both of them—to be split in half if that’s what it took to give you the release you needed.

“Say it again, baby,” Dieter told you as his fingers began to, once again, move faster.

“I’ve been good.” You whispered as you felt Javi’s pace faintly quicken, the beginning and end of his thrusts being firmer, more pronounced, as Dieter harshly swiped against your clit, pinching you in a way he knew you loved. “I’ve been good.” You repeated as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as you lost all strength and ability to hold yourself up.

“Don’t stop.” He continued to command you.

“I’ve been good.” You confirmed and begged with a breath, every word bringing you close to the desperate release you chased, every word encouraging the men to praise you for your efforts and endurance. “I’ve been so good.” You stressed as you stuttered an inhale, the heat rising in your belly. “I’ve been. So good. So. Fucking. G—" You let out a loud, long, deep, groan as your pleasure ruptured within you, Javi still keep his rhythmic pace, always pressing against your sweet spot, always accompanied with the even sweeter praise, as Dieter still relentlessly rubbed and tortured your clit as you came and the squirted as you finally orgasmed.

Dieter immediately placed the fingers that were against you between your parted, panting, lips as he watched you with a gleeful smile.

“You have been.” He told you seriously. “You think you’re ready for what I promised you?” He asked as he shifted himself closer to you and Javi. “You want both of us in you? Both of us fucking and stretching the shit out of that pretty pussy of yours?” He asked the redundant question yet waited for you to answer, but words were hard, so instead you closed your mouth around his fingers and gave him a look that told him it was offensive he would think you would wish otherwise.

He just smiled before his hand reached down between his legs and you felt him press his cock against you.

“Relax baby,” he told you yet you heard Javi also take a deep breath of anticipation, Dieter immediately losing his dominating composure to a look of endearment at you both, before the dark glint returned. “You don’t want me to be nice about it, do you?” He asked you, waiting for your response as you watched him, slowly shaking your head to say ‘no’. He smiled “That’s my girl.”

You gasped as you felt Dee press further into you, the pain of the stretch causing you to take quick and shallow breaths, until Javi’s calming hand swooped over your stomach as a reminder to relax, a reminder that he was there to soothe all pain that may come, that had been.

“You’re so beautiful, querida.” Javi whispered the praise into your ear as you watched Dieter’s expression pinch as you knew he was also feeling the effects of him stuffing a second cock into you—neither being considered small, or even average, by any means. “Look how well you’re taking us.” He continued his praise, a finger pressed against your cheek to turn your lips towards his.

Kissing Javi helped distract from the pressure between your legs, his mouth soaking up any groans or grunt from you as Dieter slowly began rocking in and out of you, always pressing slightly deeper with each thrust. It was only when you began to moan into Javi’s mouth, moan against his tongue, rested your open lips against his as you panted with mind numbing pleasure that shut down your motor functions, that you felt Javi move within you as well.

You immediately unravelled and lost yourself. There was not a moment your moans and faint curses did not fill the air around you three, not a moment that your voice didn’t overshadow any noise the two of them made in combination, nor a moment you felt like you could breathe, think or comprehend what was going on rather than the burning, pleasurable, sensation of the two men moving within you.

“I’m coming—” You announced like it was a surprise, like it was something that was a shock and needed to be stopped. Your eyes went wide, your mouth open and gasping as Javi and Dieter groaned at you tightening and shaking around them. “Dee—” you began to beg, not thinking you could take it anymore, worried that it was too much, yet he did not seem to share your same concern.

"Have we taken too much from you, hermosa?" Javi asked you, concerned, yet not stopping. You wanted to agree, to tell him yes, to ask them to stop, but words were too hard to conjure. It was too hard to think. Your eyes still closed, you felt Dieter grip your jaw, his mouth to your ear with a growl.

“She can fuckin’ take it, like the well-trained slut she is.” Dieter confirmed with a prominent thrust into you, praising you the way he knew how in these moments, encouraging you to continue to take their cocks, continue to allow them to stretch you, to further unravel at their touch and possession.

And you did take it.

You took many more pleasurable orgasms that they gifted you, took their seed as they both filled you with their climax, took whatever else they still wished to give you after that until they were satisfied and you were mentally in another galaxy.

Javi curled up to your naked, clammy, body only to nestle his head into the crook of your neck. He gave you soft, gentle kisses between his heavy, tired, breaths.

Dieter had gotten up to get you all refreshments and it was only upon his return that Javi broke the silence of your quiet panting.

“Let’s make a movie about this instead Dieter…about a beautiful flower bringing both a butterfly and a bee to its irresistible pollen.” He spoke loud enough for Dieter to hear, causing you to let out a soft, tired, moan as your face fell towards Javi, your eyes still closed. “You are worthy of a million love stories, hermosa.” He whispered into you, and if it weren't for the fact that you felt you could barely move, you would have climbed on top of that heavenly man right then.

Dieter just responded with a short, deep, and highly amused laugh.

“You wanna make a porno, Javi? I mean, I’m down…but I doubt it will carry the same ‘Oscar Buzz’.”

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