#live budget session | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

s3thwrit3sstuff · 4 months ago

Note

*pulls the 45 cents I have to my name out of my pocket and drops them on your table*

I can't believe my name will be forever attached to this but one (1) Kenjaku solo session with Heianera!YN portrait, please

❝ life and death will always lead to love and regret (but you have the answers, and I have the key) ❞

warnings: creepy/stalker behaviour, Kenjaku is a 'passive'-yandere (in the sense that Sukuna would and will kill him if he tried anything), manipulative behaviour, gore (detailed), Kenjaku jerking off in front of a portrait of r!, very unrequited

authors note: don't be ashamed, Gabriel. I got way too excited writing this and I think that speaks volumes on how I need to get checked, LMAO. On another note - yes, my YN's will always have a harem of men in the JJK-verse because that's what YN (and you, my dear reader) deserve!

I wrote this partially on my phone so bear with me guys...

*song on repeat: Bernadette by IAMX & Rule #34 by Fish in a Birdcage. * YN is described as having long hair because of the heian beauty standard (hair colour and texture not mentioned).

People often compared the years they lived as sand. The hourglass holding it is comparable to the human body. He often thought that metaphor was weak. People — humans — were not hourglasses and their years were not sand. No, no. That’s far too neat for humans.

Humans are messy. They are loud, and chaotic, they defy nature's rules and destroy her for the sake of progress. They had no balance, their compass broke when the synapses in their brains sparked conscious thought.

In that chaos, humans made curses. Or, well, you could argue it who came first but without humans and their silly consciousness — cursed spirits wouldn’t thrive.

People are flesh left under the sun. With their blood drying out, flies and maggots eagerly feast on what they can while the meat greys and rots. That’s a much more appropriate metaphor for a human life. If anything, the hourglass comparison should be used for himself. Constantly turning it over to keep going; uncaring of what kept the sands in confinement so long as it could continue its path.

Down, almost empty, flip, repeat.

Kenjaku had perfected his cursed techniques. He had earned this, he had earned his right to let his curiosities run rampant. He had earned the right to be in the presence of Sukuna Ryomen and you.

“Yuuji, you still owe me for eating my yoghurt from the fridge. It was expensive and it took so long for me to find it!” Nobara huffed. “You might as well just buy some for yourself. I’m labelling my food now.”

Megumi glanced over his shoulder at the lack of reply from the pink-haired boy. Nobara stopping next to him with her brows furrowed, sighing as she looks around for him.

“...I was just talking to myself? Seriously?” she grumbled. Megumi adjusts his grip on the bags. The grocery trips were a good team-building exercise according to Yuuji, a way to get to know each other better. Megumi and Nobara agreed after a particularly harsh mission that aimed directly at their novice team fighting experience.

So far, the results that were yielded from it were found that Nobara had an aversion to pineapples, Megumi had expensive tastes, and Yuuji was very good at budgeting money.

“No, he was right beside you a few minutes ago,” Megumi reached for his phone. Nobara placed her hands on her hips, tilting her head as she continued to scan the crowd.

A gaggle of businessmen came out from the underground train station and between the crowd of slicked-back hair, desperate combovers, and sweaty bald heads, she spotted him.

Tugging on Megumi’s sleeve, she pointed to him. Yuuji was standing and staring up at some sort of vertical banner. As they both approached, they shared a glance.

“Oi, Itadori,” Nobara placed a hand on his shoulder. Smacked it really. He didn’t budge. There was a dullness to his eyes that unnerved her enough to remove her hand. Megumi tightened his grip on his phone as he called out to him again. She took a look at the banner and her brows furrowed.

It was promoting an opening of someone’s private gallery. Some rich kid’s great-great-grandfather’s collection. The painting they used was of a true beauty. A man with long hair, dressed in the finest robes with a serene barely-there smile. It looked to be more European in nature, the art reminding her of the portraits of giant frilly dresses and puffy shoulder sleeves despite the obviously Japanese clothing, accessory, and manner in which the subject was regaled in the painting.

The banner must have costed a pretty penny considering how much detail they could see. Megumi could practically feel the raised textures the artist had used to mimic the pattern of the traditional robe the man wore. The flow of his hair, the texture and pattern it had; and his lashes were surely not that long in reality.

Megumi tore his gaze to Yuuji.

It was like he was in a trance. His mouth was slightly ajar, his brows furrowed and his hands shaking as his knuckles turned white.

“Itadori?”

Yuuji had long forgotten this. This ache in his chest that he sometimes woke up with. When he reaches for the empty space next to him and finds no one. Those moments in the basement when he watches a historical movie and his chest tightens as the nobles courted one another.

“Do you know the painter or something?” Nobara asks.

No, he wants to say. Not the painter. If he knew who it was that did this portrait, he’d tear their heads off their body. But the man? He knew him.

That hellish grin, that perfect face and most importantly those nightmarish eyes.

You’ve seen dolls, right? Those porcelain ones specifically. The craftsmen who make them, the expensive ones with real human hair. To be left on shelves instead of being played with. They would draw these white dots on the eyes, varnish them even, so their eyes would reflect back. A mimicry of humans, that’s what dolls are. But even then, their eyes still twinkled. Not this man. No. It was devoid of light. Pools of (eye colour) and nothing more. These eyes would swallow up any trace of light and diminish the stars from the sky with just a glance.

Yuuji knew him. His soul knew him. His hand clutches over his heart and his friends watch this with trepidation.

It’s been 2,000 years. Sukuna was no longer human and therefore his memory was not as fickle. He still remembers those moments before dawn; the sight of your bare torso breathing softly as you rested next to him. The sun filtering through the windows and making you appear even more ethereal and deadly. How your brows would pinch seconds before you woke. Those soulless eyes that shot through his very soul.

Sukuna could recognize you even if he was blind. He’d be able to hear you just by feeling your chest rumble. If he had to eat one thing for the rest of his life, your body and flesh would sustain him.

In his Malovent Shrine, whilst he sat on his throne, he’d summon his flames in his palm. There he’d watch as your figure danced across his hand. You’d twirl between his digits, a smile across your face as he watches the imitation of you.

It used to be enough. Lately, the action brings him more contempt then fondness. The flames never quite catch your shape anymore. Constantly shifting. That coyness is gone, mini-you petulantly staying hidden behind his fingers. So he snuffs you out in his fists.

He hates you for making him miss you. A King should not be missing anyone or anything. Yet, as his vessel stands here, Sukuna teeters on the edge of breaking the Unbreakable Vow he’d made with the brat just to gaze upon you.

The painter got your resemblance and it was agony for him.

How could he continue to be without you when he’s seen you again? Days ago, he wanted to kill you for making him delirious and now he wants you back in his arms.

“Itadori.” Megumi’s tone is firmer. Nobara smacks his shoulder again and Yuuji jolts forward, nearly falling until his rigid legs quickly come back to life.

“Huh?”

“Are you alright?” Megumi asks, his thumb hovering over the DIAL button of Gojo Satoru’s number. Yuuji glances at his wrinkled shirt and releases it, confusion painted across his face at the fading pain across his chest.

“I...yeah, yeah. I'm okay. I have no idea what that was....”

Rich bodies made life significantly easier.

What was that saying humans used?

Money can’t buy happiness?

Kenjaku chuckles at the thought. Foolish and vain — typical of humans. Clinging onto whatever they can to convince their egos they’re better than most when they’ll all meet the same fate. Kenjaku forgets the exact point where he stopped seeing himself as one of them, but he’s sure anyone would if you’ve lived as long as him. Apathy. Most call it a disease of selfishness. Kenjaku simply thinks they’re lying to themselves.

“Mr Geto?” the gallery was a lucrative endeavour. A piece in his grand scheme that required little effort but great rewards. More personal gain on his end.

“Mr Hajimoto mentioned you specifically in his will. The private room is all yours. Thank you so much for your donation to this fine institution of arts.” Kenjaku offers the man a polite smile and nod. The awkward silence prompts them to open the large doors and Kenjaku is greeted by you.

(Y/N) (L/N). In all your glory. In his favourite colours and his favourite kanza. The bespoke lighting on your portrait makes his hands fall limply to his side. You were a brushstroke away from taking a breath. The colours used to recreate that undertone your skin had, the delicate curves of your lashes and the plumpness of your lip.

The two guards in the corner of the room are a nuisance. But with a simple twirl of his right hand, the Slit-Mouthed Woman makes quick work of them. This curse technique was truly convenient, the mess she made cleaned up by a different curse who laps at the blood with vigor. The noises are all muffled as he admires those vicious eyes.

Just saying your name makes warmth travel down between his legs.

“I’ve almost forgotten how you look like.”

Silence ticks by for a minute.

Then Kenjaku bursts into laughter. Clutching his stomach and covering his mouth as he does. He can still smell your blood. Even if Suguru’s body had never had the pleasure of touching you — Kenjaku remembers it.

The way it flowed out of you like silk ribbons. Warm and wet and virile.

“You are an unusual sorcerer,” those were the first words you said to him. He knows you meant that in a derisive fashion — the curl of your nose was a clear indicator. But that was the day a feverish need was planted inside of his very soul.

You. You. You.

The shape of your face.

The cadence of your voice.

The way the wind carried your scent to his nose.

The sound of your cat-like foot-steps.

The effortless way you carried yourself despite the heavy robes that a revered concubine of your rank would wear, along with the golden hair accessories that would probably break a lesser man's neck.

It didn't stop there either.

Your brain, the wickedness that ran through your very veins and that fire that burns within you. Kenjaku wanted to be inside of you in every he could fathom. To sit within that perfectly shaped skull, to thread his fingers between the locks of your hair and take a scalpel to that skin he so craves to taste. Or perhaps inside in the traditional sense, between your legs, embraced by your warm insides and your deadly arms.

Kenjaku ponders on the time he has. He decides that he should indulge in you. He undoes the robes this body wore and sighs as it reveals the torso. Bodies were all the same but he does appreciate the care Geto Suguru took into his temple — there was no need for shame when he's already desecrated this corpse so viscerally already. His hands travel down his torso and that pronounce v-line and past the patch of wiry pubic hair.

You make him feel young again. Reckless and stubborn. Your eyes watch him as he leisurely spits into his palm and strokes it over the tip.

Evil is such a lame word. So primitive in its nature, another one of human's attempts at letting go of responsibility. If something or someone were evil, they were inherently irredeemable. Humans used to call snakes evil simply for doing what a snake would do when hungry, instead of realising they shouldn't have left the door to their huts opened and their sleeping brat asleep.

Was something evil when it simply did what it was meant to do?

They were simply following natures course.

This act Kenjaku is doing now, is not perverted or evil, he is simply being. Simply living, existing, relishing.

If anything, you were the undoing. The evil. You've made, and continue to make, him lose crave and hunger. You were so cruel, so ethereal — so evil.

Kenjaku groaned your name, walking backwards and dropping onto the low seat the gallery provided. His legs spread and he hung his head down but his eyes remained affixed to your painting.

"He sounds beautiful, Mr Hajimoto," the blonde painter had told him once or twice or thrice. Young but talented, the way he used his brushes on canvas was so impressive and Kenjaku missed you so much (Y/N). He simply had to spread the wickedness of your beauty, immortalize it forever within canvases and lesser non-sorcerers minds.

"Did you know him?" his accent was clunky, the Japanese language tumbling on its delicate legs following the rhythm of the painters voice. Still, he — Mr Hajimoto, Kenjaku — gave him a gentle grin.

"Very well. He was my lover."

The small notebook the painter had written your features down in, it was displayed in this very room as well. In a glass casing, handled with gloves to ensure pesky skin oils wouldn't deteriorate his inked strokes.

Speaking of strokes, Kenjaku's was beginning to pick up it's pace. His smile now looser, like an animal that caught the scent of blood, his tongue curled over his teeth as he imagined the disgust on your face. You'd probably cover your nose with the sleeve of your robe and the thought makes his cock jump; you were wearing his favourite colours and it made him moan.

The notebook was filled with sketches of you. Kenjaku recalls correcting the human, correcting him when he disrupted the harmony of your anatomy. You were the humans muse for years, (Y/N). Even as he neared his death bed, the blonde artist kept drawing you. Sketches lose, your shape less tangible, but hauntingly beautiful. Like your dark flames flowing in the wind. Even as his memories of his life escapes him, the artist remembered you. What a blessing. Kenjaku had visited him before he died and whispered your name into the old man's ear.

Sorcerer Society keeps your name hidden. It's their way of control. Making Sukuna Ryomen more monstrous by telling others he ruled coldly and cruelly alone; death was not as harsh as being erased. They say Sukuna needed 20 of his fingers and his mummified heart to be revived. That's what those poems talked about after all.

A misunderstanding.

The heart was Sukuna's, yes.

But it wouldn't revive him.

"You were so angry," he chuckled out, "so defiant even when I was inside of you."

The sky was blood red, the black smoke making the colour more saturated as it seemed intent on blotting out the sun. Uraume had felt a sudden chill, you did too, and they swiftly rose as the scent of deceit was so thick in the air.

“Uraume,” your voice remained nonchalant. But there was a tenseness in your throat that even they could decipher through the layers of regality. They turned, mouth pressed into a thin line as they went on their knees.

You continued to stare, impassively looking down at the patterned swirl of their snow-white hair. The red and black sky turning the colour of your eyes a pleasantly mournful shade; the golden kanza in your hair that your Lord Sukuna himself had commissioned for you glimmered righteously. The teeth of a beast, the curling of centipede legs, and the melded wings of a raven. It was beautiful just as much as it was unusual.

“You leave your Lord’s prized possession to fend for himself?”

Uraume lips reveal a modest amount of teeth. Their face like a porcelain doll as they raise their head. It makes your heart flutter and squeeze.

“You are stronger than these worms, they wouldn’t dare attack you.”

This is true. A fact. You were strong. 100 sorcerers or 1, 000 sorcerers — it made no difference to you. They’d turn into dust and wither right before you. But it shocks Uraume when you place your palm against their jaw, thumb stroking over their cheekbone as you gaze down at them.

“How horrid it is, making me defend myself.”

They see your eyes soften. It was no wonder you were Lord Sukuna’s concubine. Just being touched by you, looked down upon by you; it makes their spine melt.

“I should have your head for your insolence.”

Uraume apologizes, lips stilling when your thumb presses down on them.

“Return to me. Whole. My Lord Husband and I will not be pleased if you do not. We don’t want weaklings to stand behind us.”

Uraume bows, their lips kissing your knuckles as they do before they raise and disappear from your sight. The screams of terror that are heard outside at the sight of them make you slip your eyes close.

Kenjaku appeared before you what felt like hours later. He looks at the scene with a raise of his brow. Your feet were soaked in blood as bodies were strewn across the wide room. The floor was shimmering, looking as though it was breathing as it creaked from his weight. The clothes the bodies wore painted a clear enough picture — they were your servants. Loyalties were swayed as the fight prolonged. These little ants thought they could save themselves from punishment if they showed these righteous sorcerers your head.

He couldn’t smell smoke and there were no signs of charring. The bodies were mangled beyond belief, guts spilling out, eyes gouged, arms bent unnaturally.

Yet, in the gore and horror, you stood across from him with only your feet stained by traitorous blood.

You were a vision. Delicately wiping away blood from the tiger claw kanza with the sleeve of a dead servant. Then, he watches as you carefully put it back in place atop your hair.

“Kenjaku.”

He bows his head, bending at his waist, then lifts himself up again.

“The Kamo clan, your clan, joined this rebellion. I feel that should be a good enough reason to kill you.” The fire in your eyes makes his heart race. He moves forward, casually stepping over a torn torso.

“That would be unwise,” he gives you a grin. This body of his is new. The stitches are still fresh and red. Most likely a desperate attempt of his to hide away while they destroyed his old body. The corpse is younger, and more plain-looking. Despite it’s Curse Technique being a mystery, you’ll take your chances at strangling him.

“I’ve come at the behest of your Lord Husband. To ensure your longevity.”

Your brows pinch. Kenjaku delights at the creases it creates, tucking away this sight into his memories for lonely nights. Then, you scowl.

“You lie.”

His giddiness is palpable. The wide grin on the corpse’s face is clearly not his own; cheeks lifted too high and smile too large and unnatural. Kenjaku must’ve been a truly ugly man with a truly ugly grin. The body struggles to adjust to this display of amusement.

“I’m not.”

He takes a step forward and you lift your hand. The standstill would’ve lasted longer if it weren’t for the yells and thunderous footsteps clambering up to your room.

“You lie!”

Dark flames roared out from the windows. The heat so smoldering it causes a burst of hot air to knock back the men on the stairs, burning their skin and face. The blood on the floor boils, the iron scent now more acidic as the once fleshy bodies now crumble into dust.

You feel his breathe against the nape of your neck. As you turn, he wrings his arms around you like a snake. One across your stomach, the other around your shoulder. That horrible smile is pressed against your skin.

“Kenjaku,” you growl through gritted teeth.

“That’s right. Say my name.”

Fighting feels a lot like sex.

Kenjaku can feel your passion behind every strike, the bruises you leave behind on his skin are akin to hickeys. When you yell out and scream, cheeks so hot he can feel the rush of blood to your face just from looking — the rapid pulse you have and the way your face is contorted.

Kenjaku pins you down. Your legs are thrown over his own while you gnash your teeth at him and spit insults his way. Your hair was so beautiful, thrown back around your head like a lion’s mane. He slides your wrists above your head and holds them with one hand while the other undoes the meticulous array of folds your kimono had.

Sweat drips down his nose. It’s all your fault. Using your Curse Technique in this room, charring the wood and setting it all aflame. Still, he could work in this conditions.

“Ah,” he moans at the sight of your bare skin. Watching the rise and fall of your chest, licking his lips as he places a hand over your heart.

When you kick at his stomach, he acts like he cannot feel it. When you kick again, this time hard enough for a loud crack to be heard, he looks at you.

“If you kill me, you will break the Binding Vow you and Ryomen had made with me.”

He feels your feet dig into his rib, the spiderwebs of cracks spreading further. He allows this with a pleased hum. Your ragged breathing all at once calms and with a blink, your eyes lose that unbridled fury.

“You dare say my Lord’s name so casually?”

Kenjaku laughs. As he leans down, he presses his forehead to yours. Your nose curls in disgust but you keep your lips pursed. The feeling of his sweat sliding down the sides of your forehead and dipping to travel the side of your nose; threatening to get into your eyes as it slips just beneath it.

“Forgive me, venerable concubine.” Kenjaku does not mean this. When he presses his fingers together and imbues his hand with Curse Energy. He enjoys it.

Slicing through your skin at a pace that made the cut more ghastly then it would be if it was done quickly. You remained stone-faced while Kenjaku chewed on his lower lip, every twitch or squint just fueling his hunger.

He is past your skin and now he sees the yellow, when he twists his wrist you grunt as he slices through the threads of muscles. He spreads his fingers and your teeth part as you let out a strained yell.

"You can be louder if you want," his lips brush against your cheek every time he speaks.

"When I return, I'll take pleasure in ripping your head off your body."

"Threatening me?"

He reaches bone. His finger scratching against it before he peels away and settles between your legs. Your hands aren't pinned but you do nothing but curl your fingers into fists as he shoves another hand into your chest. The squelching and pulsing of your flesh, the bursts of blood from your throbbing veins and pumping heart. The wetness and warmth of your insides. He can feel your body clenching around him, and he convinces himself its because you truly enjoy this depravity just as he does.

The size of his hands in your chest is unbearably uncomfortable. Invading you, filling you when you want nothing more than to burn him, as he moves his digits and wrists within you.

He grasps onto your bones and breaks it under the pressure of his wrist. Your blood is spraying him, staining his clothes.

"Your blood looks like ribbons," he whispers to you, "even your insides are like works of art."

You want this to be over with already.

Your arms move down, eyes still set in a glare. You slip your fingers under the soaked clothing and spread it apart further to reveal more of your skin. Shimmying your shoulders so your torso is now bare of any clothing.

The tent between his legs pressed into your crotch. It's hard to ignore, but you push through and grasp onto his elbow and force him to go in deeper.

"Promising you."

Kenjaku's elbow straightens sharply and he moans as he feels your heart beating in his palm. He pulls it out of your body, panting as your eyes slip close and your heart slows. Beating slowly...slowly...slowly...

Kenjaku moans at the memory of your heart in his hands. Your warm blood coating his skin, drying under his nails and crackling in the creases of his joints.

"I wanted to keep you on me forever," he grunts out as his pace gets faster. "The smell of you, of your flesh."

"I didn't need your body, but it was too beautiful not to be admired."

Kenjaku throws his head back, placing his palm across his nose and lips as he sifts through his memories so he can conjure it all over again.

The painting watches on impassively. The croons and purrs of Geto Suguru's cursed spirits echo faintly in Kenjaku's ears while his hips thrusts into his own fist. It's desperate. He usually isn't like this. Even when he was creating the Death Womb Paintings — even when his plans are so close to coming into fruition.

You make him like this. Make him lose control, every thought poisoned with you even when you're nothing more than a mummified heart hidden so desperately away by Sorcerer Society.

"I've gotten a lead," Uraume had informed him just a few days ago. "They've hidden him in the ocean in an underwater research facility."

"Underwater, hah, they think it'll keep your flames contained. Keep your loyal servant away as if the depths of the ocean is enough to scare them, us — Oh, (Y/N)."

His fist stops and Kenjaku stands, removing his clothing fully as he places a hand against the wall of the gallery. The textured wall, the grooves, give way to his nails as he digs them in. He stares into your eyes, imagining the crease of your furrowed brow and Kenjaku groans out your name as he cums all over the wall.

"...Oh, I can't wait to see you again, venerable concubine."

#s3thwrit3sstuff #reader insert #male reader #male reader insert #gay reader #male!reader #sukuna ryomen x male reader #kenjaku x male reader #jjk x reader #jjk x male reader

217 notes · View notes

faeriekit · 7 days ago

Text

Faeriekit's big fat library post: what is a public library for?

Things almost any public library will do:

Let you borrow books. (Specialty libraries and archives may not permit you to borrow delicate materials. You may be able to look at them nevertheless, but you dont know until you ask.)

Allow you to put items on hold! (Want us to pull a book or hold it for you? We'll set it aside under your name as soon as it's available!)

Allow you to join in for programming (may be as simple as kids storytimes, or as complicated as academic lectures. It's usually cooking classes and knitting sessions though when the budget gets short. We love outside presenters though, especially locals.)

Inter-library loans (don't have a rare book? We'll try to get it from another library!)

Things your library will PROBABLY let you do:

Let you borrow other forms of physical media, such as DVDs, Video Games, audiobooks, CDs, etc. (This may cost you extra depending on library policy.)

Let you borrow magazines! (It's not like you're paying for a subscription, unless you're me and you like mail. Let us get them for you.)

Print/fax/scan (depends on the tech available in your library; for instance, it costs your library money to maintain a fax-specific phone line, so they may not do fax. Again, price may vary.)

Access online databases! (Ah, Ebsco. We meet again.) (But sometimes there's some cool stuff. Genealogy databases, kids' encyclopedias, all kinds of cool stuff)

Borrow ebooks and eaudiobooks! And maybe even emagazines! (Despite what people say, Libby is NOT the only service that allows your library to share ebooks with your device. There's like five I can think of off the top of my head, and your library has to pay to play. Ask which service your library offers directly so you can get the good stuff)

Put up/look at flyers. (Good for sharing public information! I just used one of our advertised services to apply for low income housing. Love library wages...woo...)

Let you volunteer! Need something to add to your resume? Need wo build up some real world work skills in a low pressure environment?Spend some time with us!

Let you use public computers! Check your email or watch yt vids or apply for jobs. Up to you.

Play with board games or puzzles as long as you're there. They may even have a swap for people to trade!

Things your library MAY have to offer you:

Makerspace (cool tech that lives at the library you can use/pay to use, such as tools, 3d printers, etc.)

Borrowing cooler tech to take home (WiFi hotspots, single-use tablets, and other cool tech)

English courses! Learn with peers!

Borrowing actual tools! (I had one library card that let me borrow hiking stuff like tents and navigational tools and sewing machines and other cool stuff and they will not renew my card because policy changed and no I'm not crying—)

Museum passes (hey! Sometimes you can get into a museum for free or for cheap!)

Book requests (hey. If you tell the library to buy a book, we may just straight up buy it! Why not? It's a guaranteed circ!)

Social worker/social work help (depends on if your library can cut a deal with an organization that has social workers)

Paperwork help for seniors (I don't know how this works because our town handles this one.)

Notary public services! (This one's just straight up like. My boss.)

Tutoring services! (We have kid volunteers AND a paid online service subscription to a tutoring site. Not bad.)

Certain streaming options! (Movies and television right as your fingertips! Or. Well. You know.)

Home delivery for housebound folks! (This one again depends on staffing, resources, money, etc etc.)

Book purchase! (No, really. Sometimes there's old books for sale, or donor books for sale, to help keep libraries running.)

And, of course, sometimes your local librarians are geniuses and come up with things I haven't even thought of. The moral of the story is, libraries do a lot of things, but the majority of them, as you can probably tell, depend on size, budget, physical resources, and local support. If you are interested in any of these services, please reach out to your local library; even if they don't offer these services specifically, making your interest known tells the library what sort of things people are looking for in the community, and may even affect financial decisions down the road. The thing I would like to emphasize the most, however, is that you are likely already paying for these services in the form of tax dollars; if you do not physically go and find out what services you are entitled to, you will never be able to take advantage of them.

Call your local library today to find out the specifics!

#library posting #faer winds #2212

142 notes · View notes

wynnyfryd · 11 months ago

Text

Trailer park Steve AU part 37

part 1 | part 36 | ao3

cw: depression, ptsd, references to canonical death and horror

Chapter 9

December

The smudged feeling comes back.

Which sucks, if he's being honest.

Despite the new thing with Eddie and the breathing room in his budget; despite everything going fine with Robin and work and the kids, his good moods never seem to hold. They keep getting muddied up, can't shine through the grubby handprints that threaten to blot them out.

And sure, it's not like he expected one great make out session to change his life (and it was a great one, to be clear; a great make out session and an even better handy later that night in Eddie’s van), but he just…

Shit.

He doesn’t know.

He thought it might feel easier. Life, adulthood; everything. Like the lightness and warmth he felt that night might carry over, might drift through to fill the cracks in him like a blanket of fresh snow.

But they don't, because they can't.

They can't touch the fact that he has no clue what he’s doing. That Steve Harrington's got no purpose, no direction and no point.

Most mornings he's got nothing but his creeping paranoia and a bone deep sense of dread.

The new year closes in like a wet tongue up the back of his neck; hot breath of a drooling grizzly getting ready to take a bite, and the long winter shadows around his house are growing fangs, rows upon rows of razor teeth in petal mouths.

His nightmares tastes like rot and lilac. Something heavy in the air.

And in the mornings he feels stupid when he wakes up shivering in cold sweat, foolish and young and alone. He clutches at his nail bat and peers through the cracks in the blinds, and he feels like a lunatic because there’s nothing out there. Nothing abnormal. Nothing wrong-side up. Just the shadows and the strays; the scurrying of house mice and the skitter of dead leaves.

It’s over now, they told him. It’s over, kid. We won.

They said it all three times.

—

"Uh...”

Eddie's standing in Steve's doorway, leaning against the frame with his arms loosely folded over his chest, a weird smile on his face like he's deeply fucking confused by what he's seeing but is trying so hard to be cool about it.

Which, like. Fair.

It's mid-morning on a Sunday and Steve is crawling on hands and knees in his gutted disaster of a living room — ripping up the edges of his terrible burnt orange carpet without even pausing to say hello — and the kids will be here any minute to help put up the Christmas tree, and he hadn't meant to do this; knows he looks completely manic, sweat dripping into his eyes, knuckles bleeding from the tack strips, but he woke up trembling from another nightmare and decided that everything had to go.

The nightmare felt too real. Long claws and sharp teeth, squelching muck and snaking vines; a flash of Chief Hopper bloody and shorn in a frozen wasteland, but the chief is dead and everyone's dead and Steve is so tired of being haunted by their ghosts, and in his shaken, post-dream haze he convinces himself that it's this place.

This place is the fucking problem.

This godforsaken tin can with spirits crawling in the walls.

They're clinging on like static just before a thunderstorm. In the floorboards, in the rug. Steve can feel them with each step. How many footprints buried themselves in these worn fibers? How many exhausted treks to the fridge and frenzied rushes to the phone; how many angry late-night pacers and visitors overstaying a welcome?

"Stevie?" Eddie clears his throat.

Steve just wants them all gone. The whole haunted circus — wants to strip it to the bones, start fresh with something new.

So far all he’s done is make the place smell like his nightmares. Like dust and death and lilac as he pulls the carpet up. There’s an oily stain on the subfloor from where he smashed his mom’s perfume, and a green-black mystery splotch by the kitchen that could be water damage, or it could be the remnants of a liquified rat. Or a person; so many people, melted meat monster smashing through the city blood and gore in a demodog's jowls the walls pulsing with membranes like some fucked up rotten womb and—

"Hey." Eddie's boots come into view. Calm commandment in his tone, stepping right into Steve's space. "Look at me," he sighs.

Steve sits back and wipes his brow. The sweat stings his cut-up hands, and he wishes he weren't so busy being a nutcase, because Eddie looks good like this. Standing over him, petting a hand through his damp hair. Making him kneel down at his feet. It’s hot. They could do something with this. Steve could—

"You want to tell me what you're doing?"

Tears prick up in Steve's dumb eyes.

What's he supposed to say? There were ghosts in the fucking carpet?

He shakes his head and sniffs, and Eddie steps in a little closer; moves his hand to cup Steve's jaw. "No?" he lifts a brow.

Outside, tires crunch over the gravel, the kids making a racket as they pour out of the Wheelers’ car. Goddammit.

Steve huffs and gets to his feet; lets Eddie steady him. They share a look. The kids are shouting on the lawn. "Can you take us to Home Depot?"

—

part 38

tag list in separate reblogs under '#trailer park steve au taglist' if you'd like to filter that content. if you want to be added tomorrow please comment and let me know (must be over 21; please either verify in the comment or have your age visible on your blog)

#trailer park steve au #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #steddie fic

551 notes · View notes

doeidawn · 5 months ago

Text

18+ MDNI

yeah i'm hoping on the ex!price bandwagon. so what.

your car breaking down now was probably the worst possible timing in the world. sure, it was a miracle the piece of junk ran as long as it did, but it's not ideal for it to sit unmoving in your driveway when you've got a job to work and a life to live.

as if it could get worse, you realize that no one you know is available at this time; they're either working their own jobs or they live miles away. but while scrolling through your contacts and internally debating whether or not to call a shop out of your budget, you come across that number you should have deleted a long time ago.

you hate how much you hope he’ll pick up as you listen to the line ring. even more, you hate the jolt of warmth that shoots through you when your name is the first thing to come out of his mouth. you've barely given john the time of day since you left him, and now here you are calling him for help. you can't decide if you're grateful or not when he says he's coming over.

you thought sitting and waiting for him would be the worst part, until you see an all too familiar car pulling up in front of your house. your stomach churns when you see him; of course a man of such routine would look the same as always. he still towers over you and the sound of his voice nearly shakes your core. at least he has the decency to be civil. this time.

it doesn't last long, though. after the small talk and asking what'd happened with your car, john's moved on to asking where your boyfriend is and why he couldn't help you out. you don't miss the way he smirks when you inform him you don't have one. you ask if he's found another woman to terrorize only find yourself more relieved than you should be when he says no.

john, out of the kindness of his heart (kindness he never much cared to exercise in your relationship), says he has no problem helping you out. he's cheaper than a shop, more hands-on than any professional. besides, you wanted him here, right? that's why you called him, after all, and who would he be to deny you?

the subject of payment inevitably arises, and john is sure to let you know that he doesn't need your hard-earned cash. you know that his job pays him well enough anyway. he doesn't bother being sweet—knows he doesn't have to butter you up like he used to—a quick fuck should cover the labor just fine.

you hate how quick you are to agree. you hate even more how you were secretly hoping that was what he wanted. and you know he notices how little you fight it when he bends you over the side of the sofa, but you can't bring yourself to care. not when you're this wet from the sight of him (something he's adamant to point out when he strips you down) and his thick cock fills you so perfectly.

stomaching all of his taunts and teases is only possible because of how good he feels lodged balls deep inside you. it's a sensation you missed more than you'd ever care to admit. and given how quickly john's pace stutters and he spills inside you, you assume he felt the same. you'd tease him about it if he hadn't made you cum the hardest you have since the last time you were with him.

yeah, he'll fix your car up, but he might need a follow up session afterwards for all his hard work. c'mon, you know you want to.

#blurb/word vomit bc i kept thinking abt this scenario #i wanna write it out better and fuller but idk #i just know i need him #clown writes #cod smut #cod x reader #call of duty #cod #captain john price #john price #captain price #captain price smut #captain price x reader #price smut

274 notes · View notes

todorokies · 6 months ago

Text

THE ONE WHERE YOU REFUSE TO KEEP QUIET. . !

𝝑𝑒 contents: john marston x female reader, nsfw, modern au (sawry im a sucker for 'em), cunnilingus, fingering, pet names (pretty & darling), pussy drunk john. . . 754 words

𝝑𝑒 a/n: dabbling in a diff fandom for my comeback to writing is crazy ik but i hope u all enjoy regardless :3 im rusty i alr know

“did i ever tell you about what happened at my work last week?”

you let out a shaky breath as you cautiously ran your fingers through the hair of the man who is currently situated between your legs, eagerly lapping at your dripping cunt collecting everything you could offer to him.

there’s a momentary lack of a response from your companion, your question hangs in the thin air as the crude sounds of squelching bounces off the walls alongside with your airy moans that seep out more than intended to.

you rack your fingers once more through his long hair and tug at his roots which aids as a warning.

with not enough force to seriously hurt him, but for a low guttural groan to escape from his chest causing small vibrations against your already sensitive pussy.

he apologetically sucks on your puffy clit before he comes up for air then replaces his hot mouth with two fingers to rub tight circles on your nub, “no, pretty, you haven’t. what happened at work?” he inquired with a strained expression on his face.

his pupils are blown out and unstable as he quickly shifts his focus between your glowy face and your pussy that’s aching to be stuffed by him. however, you were pretty adamant on him eating you out instead.

john ducks his head back in between the plush of your thighs continuing his ministrations, noticeably slowing his pace for you to get your words out.

you whine with a small buck of your hips, “apparently we’re having some budget cuts nggh in a f-few weeks. . . which —oh fuckk— also includes employees.”

“uh-huh?” john mumbles against you. your words enter one of his ear and exits the other, more focused on alternating from long vertical strides from your hole to your clit then skillfully circling around it with his tongue.

his calloused hand grips at your ass pulling you even closer to his face in attempt at get every last drop.

“y-yeah, and my manager had the damn nerve to—mghm keep doing that and i’ll cum~”

your chest heaves as john spreads open your folds to dip his tongue into your pussy, visibly enjoying the way you desperately clench around the wet muscle.

he deeply chuckles and you shiver due to his stubble scratching at your skin, “what did your manager do, darling?” he incoherently slurs his words but you were able to pick it up.

“she broke the news during rush hour. i-i mean what a bitch, right!”

“a bitch indeed,” he affirms as he slowly pushes two fingers in your wet hole, ogling at the way you take his digits with ease, fully coating them with your slick.

you throw your head backwards against the leather couch that’s supporting your back. you once again find residence in his black locks, roughly tugging this time around.

a broken whimper lively dances off your lips as your eyes roll back; you could feel the coil forming in the pit of your stomach.

“feels so good… don’t fuckin' stop..” you mindlessly ushered out. the sensation of his fingers pumping in and out, dragging against your tight walls as well as the added pleasure of his tongue swirling and suckling at your sensitive clit almost has you over the edge.

just when john finally thought he’d shut you up for good this time, your lewd moans and pants get broken down till you find the strength to add another comment about your dilemma.

“a-and there’s talk of my f-favourite coworker—”

“—ya know, how about you tell me the rest of ya little story after i make you cum.” john interrupts your soon-to-be babbling session, stopping all of his movements altogether.

he places a chaste kiss onto your clit and looks at you for permission to continue. you nod with a squeaky whine, already dizzy and eager for him to resume.

“oh darling, what am i ever gonna do with you?” he whispered against your cunt as he continued pumping his fingers at a steady albeit fast pace and quickly reattached his mouth back on your clit.

you soon cum hard on his fingers followed by a few more tugs at his hair to signal you were ready to tap out.

he licks his fingers, maintaining eye contact as he groans loudly at the taste of you. so sweet. . .just for him.

his voice is hoarse as he slips your panties back on and then gives you his undivided attention,

“so…what was that about your favourite coworker?”

reblogs & feedback is extremely appreciated !! <3

309 notes · View notes

theereina · 7 months ago

Text

🦋 THAT GIRL CHALLENGE 🦋

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Start a daily gratitude journal to cultivate a positive mindset.

Practice mindfulness meditation for at least 10 minutes each day.

Set specific, achievable goals for yourself in all areas of your life.

Read a self-improvement book or listen to a motivational podcast each week.

Create a budget and track your expenses to improve your financial literacy.

Take a new fitness class or try a different workout routine to stay active and healthy.

Volunteer your time to a cause you're passionate about.

Practice self-care regularly, whether it's through skincare, baths, or relaxation techniques.

Develop a morning routine that sets a positive tone for your day.

Learn a new skill or hobby that interests you, such as painting, cooking, or coding.

Practice forgiveness and let go of grudges or resentments from the past.

Surround yourself with positive, supportive people who uplift and inspire you.

Start a savings account or investment portfolio to secure your financial future.

Practice assertiveness and boundary-setting in your relationships.

Spend time in nature to recharge and reconnect with yourself.

Take a solo trip to explore new places and gain independence.

Eat a balanced diet with plenty of fruits, vegetables, and whole grains.

Schedule regular check-ups with your healthcare providers for preventive care.

Practice saying "no" to obligations or activities that drain your energy.

Explore different forms of spirituality or connect with your spiritual beliefs.

Declutter your living space to create a more organized and peaceful environment.

Practice random acts of kindness to spread positivity in your community.

Learn to manage stress through techniques like deep breathing or progressive muscle relaxation.

Attend workshops or seminars to continue learning and growing personally and professionally.

Set aside time for creative expression, whether it's through writing, drawing, or crafting.

Practice self-reflection to identify areas for growth and improvement.

Cultivate a mindset of abundance and gratitude rather than scarcity and fear.

Set boundaries around technology use to prioritize real-life connections.

Experiment with different styles and fashion choices to express your unique personality.

Create a vision board to visualize your goals and aspirations.

Practice self-compassion and treat yourself with kindness and understanding.

Explore your passions and interests to find what truly lights you up.

Develop a morning or evening skincare routine to care for your skin.

Take up a regular exercise routine, whether it's yoga, running, or weightlifting.

Practice effective communication skills to express yourself clearly and assertively.

Set aside time for hobbies and activities that bring you joy and fulfillment.

Invest in experiences rather than material possessions for long-lasting happiness.

Foster gratitude by expressing appreciation for the people and things in your life.

Practice forgiveness, both towards others and yourself, to release negative emotions.

Engage in acts of self-love, such as positive affirmations and pampering sessions.

Cultivate a sense of curiosity and wonder by exploring new ideas and perspectives.

Invest in your education and personal development through courses or workshops.

Practice empathy and compassion towards others, seeking to understand their perspectives.

Practice mindfulness in everyday activities, such as eating and walking.

Set realistic expectations for yourself and celebrate your progress along the way.

Surround yourself with supportive friends and mentors who encourage your growth.

Create a financial plan to save for future goals, such as buying a home or traveling.

Practice gratitude by keeping a daily journal of things you're thankful for.

Take time to relax and recharge by engaging in activities you enjoy.

Reflect on your values and priorities to ensure your actions align with your true self.

191 notes · View notes

valkyrieromanoff · 29 days ago

Text

👻GHOSTLY ENCOUNTER (+18): GHOST! ANAKIN SKYWALKER X YOU (day 17 of 31)

synopsis: .You move into a house only to discover that the ghost of the former owner may be too charming for a spirit.

warning: sexual content, dirty talk, masturbation

a/n: Hello there, so, I had planned to do all the pg oneshots but then I got carried away with this one, hope you like it💖

ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ'ᴍ ʟᴏɴᴇʟʏ

ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏʀɴᴇʀꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴍʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ꜱᴛᴀʀᴛ ʀᴀᴄɪɴɢ

ᴛʜɪɴɢꜱ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ʙᴇ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴀꜱᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ

ꜱᴘᴇɴᴅ ᴍʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ ᴛʀʏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴇʀᴀꜱᴇ ᴛʜᴇᴍ

Moving away from your parents’ house had been a whirlwind of emotions. On one hand, it felt like stepping into the independence you’d longed for, but on the other, there was the weight of responsibility—balancing work, studies, bills, and the maintenance of your new space. When you found a quaint little house near the college within your budget, you jumped at the chance. It wasn’t perfect, but it was yours, and that was enough.

Your parents helped with the move, spending every last second before nightfall fussing over every detail—whether the fridge was stocked, whether you had enough lightbulbs. By the time they finally left, you found yourself alone in the house for the first time, surrounded by boxes. The silence was both exhilarating and unsettling. You ordered pizza, collapsed onto the couch, and tried to let yourself enjoy the quiet.

But that quiet didn’t last long.

It started with little things: doors creaking in the dead of night, an occasional window rattling without wind, a few misplaced items—your silk nightgown draped across the living room sofa, your lace panties casually hung from the ceiling fan. You laughed it off at first, chalking it up to exhaustion or maybe a vivid dream. But each day, the incidents became harder to ignore. You felt watched, though you couldn’t explain it. The house seemed to have eyes.

Then, one night in the shower, that feeling intensified. The warm water streamed over your body as you hummed, your thoughts drifting, until a prickle of awareness ran down your spine. You weren’t alone. Slowly, cautiously, you turned your head—and there he was. A man, or something like it. Tall, broad-shouldered, with piercing blue eyes and tousled blond hair, wearing what looked like military clothing. His lips curled into a mischievous smile, and though fear gripped you, your pulse quickened for an entirely different reason.

You screamed, grabbing the nearest towel and wrapping it around yourself, while hurling a shampoo bottle at him. It passed straight through his form, shattering the mirror behind him. He didn’t flinch. Instead, he raised his hands in mock surrender, still smirking.

"First time seeing a ghost?" His voice was low and smooth, with a hint of amusement, the Canadian accent making him sound both charming and dangerous. "I’m Anakin, doll."

Heart racing, you bolted from the bathroom, your wet feet slipping against the floor as you fled to the guest room. You slammed the door behind you, pressing your back against it. This couldn’t be real. It had to be some college party trick or a hallucination from too many late-night study sessions. You slapped your face, trying to wake yourself from the nightmare.

“Running away already?” His voice, teasing and intimate, came from the bed. He sat there, casual and confident, his ghostly form stretched out as if he owned the place. “You didn’t even give me a chance to introduce myself properly.”

You stared at him, your breath hitching in your throat. He was more than just a ghost—he was magnetic. His gaze lingered on you, taking in every detail of your expression, and you could feel the heat rising to your cheeks despite the cool air. How could a ghost feel this… alive?

“What do you want?” you managed to ask, your voice trembling with a mix of fear and something else you couldn’t quite place.

Anakin’s smirk deepened as he leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees. “Do you want me to leave?”

The way he asked it was playful, but there was a glint in his eye that made your stomach flutter. You hesitated, and he caught it.

“Nah, I’m not going anywhere,” he continued, his voice dropping to a velvety whisper. “I’ve been bored to death, and you… well, you’re a lot more interesting than the last tenants. Maybe you could keep me company?”

You swallowed, pressing yourself further against the door. His words hung in the air, layered with an unspoken invitation. There was something about him—about the way his eyes never left yours, the way his voice seemed to curl around your thoughts. He was dangerous, but not in the way you expected. He was seductive.

“And what does keeping you company entail?” you asked, your voice softer now, almost breathless.

Anakin tilted his head, his smile widening as he stood, slowly crossing the room toward you. You knew you should be scared, that this was absurd. But your heart betrayed you, pounding harder with every step he took. His presence, though immaterial, was overwhelming, like he could wrap you in his energy if he wanted.

“Depends,” he whispered as he stopped inches from you, his eyes locking onto yours. “How much fun are you willing to have with a ghost?”

The air between you seemed to thicken, and despite the fact that he wasn’t solid, you swore you could feel the heat radiating from him. It was intoxicating, the way he stood so close, the scent of him faintly lingering in the air, an odd mix of woodsmoke and something distinctly masculine.

His voice, a low rumble that seemed to reverberate through the very air, sent shivers down your spine. "Why don't you show me just how fun you can be?" Anakin suggested, his smoldering gauze never leaving yours.

You felt your cheeks flush, a mixture of arousal and embarrassment washing over you. Taking a deep breath, you nodded and slowly slid your hand under your skirt, feeling the heat of your body radiate through the fabric of your panties.

"Good girl," he purred, his ghostly fingers trailing along your jawline, leaving a tingling sensation in their wake. "I want you to imagine me touching you, my hands exploring every inch of your body."

You let out a soft moan, your hips rocking slightly as you began to rub yourself through the thin barrier of your underwear. The sensation was electric, and you could feel the dampness growing as your arousal increased.

"That's it," Anakin encouraged, his voice like honey dripping over your skin. "Imagine me kissing you, my lips tracing the curve of your neck, my tongue dipping into the hollow of your throat."

You tilted your head back, exposing your vulnerable neck to him as you continued to touch yourself. Your breathing grew heavier, and you could feel your heart racing as you lost yourself in the fantasy.

"Now, I want you to picture my hands on your breasts, cupping and kneading them," he said, his voice husky with desire. "Your nipples hardening under my touch, wanting to be sucked."

Your fingers moved faster, the heat building within you as you followed his instructions. You loved the way he was guiding you, the way he seemed to know exactly what you needed.

"I'm going to move lower now," he whispered, his voice sending shivers down your spine. "I want you to imagine my fingers tracing the line of your stomach, dipping beneath the waistband of your panties."

You gasped. "That's it, let yourself feel it," Anakin's voice purred in your ear, his ethereal breath ghosting over your neck and sending tingles down your spine. "Imagine my fingers slipping inside you, stroking that sensitive spot that makes your toes curl."

His words painted vivid pictures in your mind, transporting you to a realm of pure pleasure as you obediently followed his lead. Your fingers worked faster, more urgently, slipping beneath the wet fabric to stroke your most intimate places directly.

"You're getting so wet for me already," Anakin groaned, the sound of approval thick in his tone. "I can feel your arousal, taste it in the air. Your body is so responsive, so eager for my touch."

You couldn't hold back the moans spilling from your lips, the coil of tension winding tighter and tighter in your core as Anakin's dirty talk stoked the flames of your desire. Your free hand gripped the arm of the chair, knuckles white, as you rocked your hips into your touch.

"That's my good girl," he praised, his voice a seductive rumble. "Imagine me lavishing attention on your clit now, circling and flicking that sensitive nub until you're writhing and begging for release."

Your fingers moved in quick, tight circles, matching the rhythm he dictated with his sultry words. Sparks of pleasure shot through you, building to a crescendo as Anakin worked you higher and higher.

"Don't hold back," he commanded, his tone leaving no room for disobedience. "Let go and come for me. I want to feel your pleasure, see you fall apart."

With a cry of ecstasy, your body seized up, back arching as the waves of your climax crashed over you. Your walls clenched around your fingers as you rode out the intense sensations, Anakin's voice urging you on through every pulse and aftershock.

As you slowly floated down from your tall, chest heaving, you felt Anakin's presence envelop you, a comforting warmth seeping into your bones. His chuckle was his spirit. "That was quite a performance, my dear. You're quite the eager student."

His spectral hand caressed your cheek, the tingling sensation of his touch still lingering even after he'd withdrawn. The memory of his voice and the connection you'd shared in that moment left you feeling incredibly satisfied and more than a little lightheaded.

#anakin skywalker x you #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin smut

79 notes · View notes

trendywaifus · 3 months ago

Note

I’ll do you one better and plant the little teeny seed of Anby walking in (unintentionally…or was it) on Nicole straight up in a session with the reader…her thighs pressing hard down on there hehe

mmm, i think it’d be funny to have billy walk instead😭 cw: gn! reader, suggestive themes

“ you’ve been on that computer damn near all morning, (name). “ your girlfriend grumbles, strutting into your shared room with her, arms crossed over her chest. you say nothing for a few moments, typing and typing away on the keyboard. you didn’t even turn around to acknowledge her presence. her brow twitch with annoyance. matter-a fact, you barely said anything or interacted with anyone this morning! all you did was wake her up with a good morning kiss and mutter to her that you’ve made breakfast for everyone and hopped straight onto the computer. you didn’t even show up for breakfast despite telling her you were going to!

“ (name). “

click, clack, clack, clack, click. were you ignoring her?

nicole let’s out an irritated grunt before growling your name through gritted teeth.

“ (name)! “

instantly, you perk up, finally rotating your chair around to look at her. your eyes skim over her annoyed body language and raised a puzzled brow at her. “ yes, baby? did you and the others eat breakfast yet? “

agitated by your lack of awareness, nicole huffs irritably, holding back the urge to come over and smack the living daylights out of you. “ don’t baby me! i was trying to talk to you for the past minute! you were suppose to come eat with us but you didn’t show up! what were you doing on that computer anyways? “

guilt flashes across your face before you cast her an apologetic smile. “ i didn’t mean to ignore you. i figured skipping out on breakfast would help us save food for this week. i was actually trying to create a budget and manage our savings for this month, c’mere. “ you beckon her with a finger and she walks over to you with curious eyes to take a closer look. nicole’s quiet as she inspects the little project you were making.

“ i was also trying to fix up our website’s layout to look more professional so—“

“ you dummy, “ nicole mutters softly, lightly smacking the back of your neck before stroking it tenderly. “ i can do all of this. you don’t have to do this—that, managing our money, our website, and purposely skip out on breakfast for us to—“

“ but i wanted to. “ you gingerly pull nicole into her lap, holding onto to her hips. “ don’t worry, it’s just a meal. you handle everything so i wanted to lessen the load off your shoulders. plus, you’re pretty bad with handling money—“

“ i am not. “ she denies sheepishly, loosely wrapping her arms around your neck, cheeks turning a subtle red. you lean into her with a teasing smile, your chest pressing up against hers.

“ are so. mostly because my boss is such a kind person. “ you lean in closer and closer until your nose gently grazes nicole’s and her soft breath mingling with yours.

“ wh-what do you know about your boss? “ she questions softly, you circle nonexistent shapes into her hipbones.

“ enough. buying those orphan kids toys, paying me and the others more than what’ll you have for yourself, dare i say more? “

a noise similar to a grunt leaves her. instead of stammering and arguing back, she grumpily pouts. “ i’m sick and tired of you thinking you know me.” her tone sounds anything but annoyed.

you giggle, playfully puckering your lips at her. “ i’m sorry, kiss? “

“ ugh, you’re such a mess. don’t ask me for a kiss and do that. “ nicole murmurs, lowered hazel hues peering into yours. you chuckle and take it upon yourself to kiss her lips. the taste of her cherry lip balm makes you hum with delight. nicole kisses back, firm and languid. your palms feel up her curvy sides and she holds your jaw in place with one hand while the other is hanging off your shoulder.

“ from now on, i’ll handle the budget and the money you give to me is shared between us. but, that doesn’t mean to go spend it all so carelessly.“ you mutter between soft kisses, nibbling on her plump bottom lip. she gives your jaw a light squeeze as acknowledgment, mismatch colored-nails gently digging into the flesh.

“ fine, i’ll agree to that. “ she’s more focused on your careful hands touching her body like an expensive vase. you’re treating her as if she’s worth over 3,000,000 dennies. don’t even get her started on your one million denny kisses. she exerts her weight down on your lap, earning a muffled groan from you.

“ what are you doing? “ you ask breathlessly, moving your head to the side to moan when nicole does it again.

“ awarding you for being my most loyal employee~”she purrs confidently in your ear, kissing the shell of your ear before descending. she plants sweet, open-mouth kisses down the column of your neck. your hands grasp for the fleshy part of her thighs to withstand her assault. “ nic—colee. .” you drawl and nicole finds herself grinding her ass down, wanting more of her name to drag deliciously off of your tongue.

“ blame yourself for riling me up like this and it’s barely noon. it’s only fair i get to do this. “ nicole tuts, sliding her tongue over a sensitive spot on your neck that she knows you’re weak too. her hand drags down your chest and stomach with the intention of slipping under your shirt to feel the warmth of your bare skin. before she can go further, the door creaks open and billy peeks his head out. you and nicole immediately freeze up. “ boss? (name)? where are you? we have to get ready—oh good heavens! “ billy apologizes frantically for his intrusion once he discovers the situation you and nicole are in. fuming with frustration, nicole angrily snatch the wireless mouse from the desk and hurls it at billy’s head and he quickly slams the door shut just in time for the mouse to end up crashing into the wall, destroying it. she’s just about ready to jump up from your lap and chase after him but you hold her back.

“ BILLY, HOW ABOUT YOU KNOCK ON THE DOOR FIRST BEFORE YOU BARGE INTO MY ROOM, YOU’RE SO GOING TO GET IT, YOU BIG DUMMY!”

“ N-NICOLE, MY MOUSE! “

#trendythirsts #nicole demara x reader #zzz women x reader #zzz x reader #zenless zone zero x reader

128 notes · View notes

pudgedork · 1 month ago

Text

feedist kinktober 2024 #10: containment breach

I was hoping to do more of these this month, but unfortunately some other stuff's come up and I've not had the time :(

I did finally get one done though, so here we go! your feedee fantasies had always been on the extreme side. when people asked about your aspirations, you had to resist the urge to answer truthfully. you’d instead talk about some career that sounded respectable, or how you wanted to travel, or something inoffensive like that. in reality, your sole desire was to get obscenely fat. you didn’t have a particular number in mind; but you wanted to be a spectacle, and you wanted to achieve this as soon as possible.

initially you tried gaining by yourself, but you soon realised this wasn’t going to achieve the results you were looking for. you managed to find some feeders online who would help pay for stuffing sessions, which helped greatly. the budget required for your lofty goals was substantial though, and soon even this arrangement proved insufficient.

a few years – and a couple hundred pounds – into your gain, you got a lucky break. you met someone who was interested in helping you reach your full potential. they’d learned of your extreme goals and wanted to find out if you were serious. this wasn’t the first time they’d heard a story like this though; feedees who claimed to want to become huge, but who’d inevitably end up bailing out well short of their goals.

they wanted you to prove your commitment first. if you did, they would completely fund your gain. they’d move you into an apartment near them, and everything would be taken care of for you; all you would have to do is eat all day, every day, for the rest of your life. you could become the whale you’d always dreamed of being.

originally this feeder had intended for you to complete some smaller challenges to prove your desire was genuine. when you managed to pack on 40 pounds in three months though, it was clear to them you meant business. soon they were helping you move into the new apartment they’d bought for you, and your weight began to absolutely balloon.

about a year prior to meeting your feeder, you weighed a little over 350 pounds. with their assistance, you were on the verge of 500 pounds a year later. another year came and went, and you now exceeded the capacity of your 600 pound limit scale. you had no intention of slowing down.

your lust for obesity had transcended desire, to become something you required. your appetite was insatiable. you were downing pints of weight gain shake like they were glasses of water. you were borderline feral each time you tore into another fast food delivery. it was a good thing your feeder was wealthy, because the bottomless pit in your gut was costing them a fortune.

within a few years of living this way, the effects were… dramatic. since moving into your apartment, you hadn’t actually left at any point. initially this was down to pure laziness; you could have all the food you desired delivered to your door, so why burn precious calories by going outside? soon you struggled with clothing; you didn’t own anything that could adequately cover even a fraction of your bulk, which you took as a sign to stay home. eventually, you simply became too wide to fit through the front door; not that you ever actually bothered trying, though.

for most, that would be the point where the consequences of their greed jolted them to their senses. even most hardcore feedees would – upon realising they had become so fat they were trapped in their apartment – probably dial things back a bit. for you, this achievement barely registered.

as the months passed, it became increasingly difficult to haul yourself to your feet. not wanting to hinder your progress, your feeder hired a live-in maid to eliminate the need for you to move. literally everything – short of lifting food to your mouth and chewing – was now done for you. the woman hired as your maid handled everything else, and – under the instruction of your feeder – constantly encouraged you to push yourself; to keep expanding, to keep getting heavier.

the pounds continued to pile on, and soon enough you had entered true blob territory. quite how heavy you were was a mystery, but it was hard to imagine there were many – if indeed any – people fatter than you on the planet. it had been years since you were last capable of hauling your enormous ass out of bed, and you lived in a permanent state of bliss.

and yet, you’d remained a secret. despite your pleasure from the absurd amount of weight you’d piled on, the anonymity left you a little unfulfilled. delivery drivers occasionally spoke of the enormous person who lived in this apartment complex, but nobody had seen them in years.

most wrote it off as an urban legend, and even those who believed the stories assumed there was a hefty degree of artistic license at play. others in the building had noticed there was one unit on the first floor that seemed to get an awful lot of deliveries, but the woman who answered the door was fairly thin. as far as they were aware, nobody else lived there.

you had achieved your fantasy; a helpless eating machine, living in your own little hedonistic haze without a care in the world. as far as you could reach out, all you could feel were the endless waves of your own flab. nobody would ever tell you to slow down, criticise you for what you'd become, beg you to get a hold of your addiction… you would be enabled and encouraged from here on out. it was perfect.

that was, until it happened. the day you breached containment. it was a pleasant, unremarkable friday evening. most of your neighbours were arriving home from work, while you were busy finishing your second gallon of weight gain shake to wash down the several dozen donuts you’d inhaled in the last hour. as you released a satisfied belch – and your maid lifted the funnel away as she climbed off of you – you heard an odd creaking noise. you were used to the floor straining a little as you leaned your weight around, but this sounded more… intense? was the bed going to collapse?

before you had a chance to process this thought, the floor of your bedroom completely caved in beneath your bed. you crashed through to the ground floor below; dropping into the middle of the lobby. thankfully you landed on a seating area that wasn’t in use, and between your now destroyed bed and your own ample padding the impact hadn’t been especially sore. once you collected your thoughts however, the reality of the situation set in.

you had gotten so fat, that your apartment floor couldn’t support your weight anymore. you hadn’t even considered that as a possibility. but here you lay, in a crater caused by your sheer mass; completely naked, beached, and with a room full of strangers staring in stunned silence at you. they gawked at your rolls, beginning to whisper among themselves; you were absolutely mortified. in different circumstances you’d want the ground to swallow you up, but you’d had enough of that for one day. yet despite this utter humiliation – or perhaps, thanks to it – you’d never felt so aroused in your life.

well you had always wanted to be a spectacle, hadn’t you?

#feedist kinktober #feedist kinktober 2024 #wg fiction #feedist fiction #feedee feeder #feedee encouragement #gaining encouragement #gaining weight on purpose #feeding kink #ffa feeder #queer feedism

86 notes · View notes

uniiiquehecrt · 3 months ago

Text

Voice actors are NOT the same as actors.

It takes a specific kind of skill-set and training to be able to warp and meld the voice. It takes a certain kind of talent and dedication to hone that talent into the ability to meld the voice and invoke emotion with one's voice alone. Actors are used to using their voice secondarily to their body language and their facial expressions. It's all mirrored back on camera. They do have nuance. But it's a different kind of nuance and a different kind of training to produce that nuance.

Voice actors might get their likeness transposed on their character's design, and maybe their mannerisms might seep into the character's animation. But when it's all said and done: their presence is in their voice. They are bringing a character to life, showing that emotion in their voice, trying to keep a specific accent, drawl, pitch, tone in that voice and keep it consistent for their recording sessions.

The voice actor is like a classically trained musician who can play first chair in a competitive, world-renown orchestra. The actor (who fills the voice actor's role) is like a moot who played violin in beginner and intermediate high school orchestra and thinks they can get into Juilliard with that 2-4 years of experience.

This doesn't mean that the HS orchestra moot can't play. They can even be really good at it. Maybe they won competitions and sat first chair. But they are not in the same league as the person who's been training their whole lives and lives and breathes to hone their craft using the instrument and all of the training they've ever acquired to perfect it. They are not meant for the same roles. They are not in the same caliber. You do not hire the HS equivalent when you want to play complex music in a competitive orchestra.

Actors are not the same as voice actors.

And furthermore, actors - especially big name actors - taking the roles of animated characters for big budget films or TV pilots makes no sense anyways when - at least in the case of TV pilots - there's not a point to hiring a big budget actors anyways. That money could be used elsewhere (like paying your animators), and the talent that is brought onto the screen for X character could then be hired on to voice said character no recasting required.

I wouldn't say voice acting as a profession is in danger exactly, but it's certainly being disrespected and overlooked for celebrity clout, and this has ALWAYS been an issue. Shoot, even Robin Williams knew that much - which is why he tried so hard not to be used as a marketing chess piece for Aladdin and got royally pissed off when it happened anyways. People shouldn't go to any movie (but especially not animated films) because "oh famous actor is in it". People should go because it's a good movie and the voice acting is good.

People who honest to god think that voice actors are replaceable because "oh well anyone can voice act" or "I like xyz celebrity so naturally it'll be good" ... Honestly I just wish you'd reassess your priorities because you're missing the point and are part of the problem.

Voice Actors ≠ Actors.

#(i am incredibly passionate about this)#(and seeing celebrity voice actors in what should be a voice actor's role completely burns my buns it doesn't matter WHO it is)#(hemsworth as optimus? someone tell me one good reason why they couldn't get a good v/a to replace mr. cullen properly for the future)#(ben shwartz as sonic? dude literally isn't even a good voice actor OR actor anyways-)#(- A N D jason griffith AND my boy roger craig smith are still RIGHT HERE)#(jason griffith IN PARTICULAR would have pulled back SO many sonic fans that went to watch the film anyways. if not /more/.)#(and on top of that he has the same tonality and energy they tried to force this moshmo to try and emulate anyways so GET THE REAL THING)#(chris pratt as mario? i can at least defend /him/ and say that barring his failure to do a NY accent consistently he wasn't terrible)#(but mario's new voice actor could've been used instead and people would've clearly appreciated that WAY more)#(vanessa hudgens as sunny starscout in mlp g5's pilot movie? literally why. they replace her and hitch's va in the show.)#(don't even get me started on the concept of hiring celebrity singers to do musical theatre roles or not letting musical theatre singers-)#(-dub the celebrity voice actors you just HAD to hire for your film bc you're so worried about not getting enough clout to get ppl in seats #(that you're putting it all in this (1) big name hire bc turns out that you have no faith in your writing ability much less-)#(-animation as a medium.)#(and no before anyone says anything : no this is not me saying that ALL celebrity voice castings are bad.)#(there are some that aren't that bad and others that are actually pretty good.)#(i especially appreciate it when actors are damn well aware they aren't voice actors and try to LEARN from voice coaches-)#(-and/or their va predecessors if applicable.)#(that does not change the fact that the celebrity shouldn't have been hired just because the film wanted to have bragging clout-)#(-oh look at this FAMOUS PERSON we were able to hire — yeah ok. sure wendy. i want to know if this film is quality or not.)#(and 9/10 times the SECOND there is money spent on a non voice actor to voice the main character especially)#(that usually means somewhere along the way animation IS going to get shafted. if not w the animators themselves then in the way of-)#(-the actual animation itself and ESPECIALLY the screenwriting because it's especially been so dogshit lately even before the strike.)#(a celebrity being hired to fill a voice actor's role is such an immediate red flag to me and it is VERY rare that i get to be proven wrong

88 notes · View notes

razorblade180 · 2 months ago

Text

The Grand Bet!

March: Dan Heeeeeng! Can you make dinner tonight?

Dan Heng: You didn’t eat with your masters?

March: We cut training short today. But get this! I bumped into master Yunli on the way here and she confessed her and Yanqing have Cloud Knight business to discuss at his. I would’ve loved to try his cooking!

Caelus:Ah, so you weren’t invited.

Stelle:You two would probably eat his budget.

March:Like you aren’t any different!? I wouldn’t eat that much. Surly less than someone like Jing Yuan.

Dan Heng:Oh, he’s joining as well. That means it’s possible all the Generals are.

March:W-Why? I just said Jing Yuan because why wouldn’t he be there?

Caelus:Why would he be?

March:Because……why would he miss a home cooked dinner? I know he’s busy but eventually he’d go home to at least leftovers.

CSD:…..

March:Why are you looking at me like that?

Caelus:March, Jing Yuan and Yanqing do not live together. Yanqing has his own residence.

March:Really?! All by himself!?

Dan Heng:He gets paid a lieutenant’s wage. He can afford an apartment easily.

March:Well that’s weird! Yunli didn’t mention that at all. I think I even mentioned how fancy the general’s house might be. She could’ve spoken up!

Stelle:Or she was fine with you being wrong.

March:So what, they’re having a dinner together? I wouldn’t tease her about that. Is it that embarrassing?

Dan Heng: What do you think is going to happen?

March:Eating and talking! Maybe someone will say something ridiculous. I guess it could be a date. That explains not inviting me.

Caelus:If that’s the case-

Stelle: Why not go to restaurant instead of his place? For Cloud Knight matters of all things!?

March:….*red* I don’t like what you’re implying!

Caelus: You mean the truth?

March:Not my adorable masters!

Dan Heng:It adds up. Neither of them seem like the type to be okay sharing a kiss in public.

Stelle:Dan Heng, nobody needs an entire apartment for a single kiss.

Dan Heng:…But they’re responsible.

Caelus:Now since when does that matter around a crush?

March:I refuse to hear you slander them. They’re far too awkward to get passed a dinner and a movie.

Dan Heng: That is Jing Yuan’s disciple. A kiss is on the table.

Stelle:I think you’re both wrong. March, your masters are totally making out. I do believe they’re responsible, but not that responsible! 20,000 credits on it.

March:Well I know them better and I think you’re wrong! 25,000 on just a dinner plus confessions!

Dan Heng: I’m sticking with kiss.

Caelus: Make out session.

Stelle: You can’t steal my-

Caelus:AND….they will be dumb enough to leave evidence. Somehow, some way, they are going to mess up.

Stelle:…Can we be one team?

Caelus:Oh now it sounds appealing!? We split it 60/40

Stelle:55/45! I’m broke. I will do your chores too.

Caelus:Fine.

Dan Heng:If you’re both wrong then you pay March and I 50,000 credits each.

March:Oh I love these odds!

Stelle and Caelus: Deal.

xxxxxx

The next day came quickly. The four stooges all waited in the training garden as Yanqing walked in.

Yanqing:Ummm did I get more students? Wasn’t expecting so many faces this morning.

Stelle:We had nothing else better to do so we thought we’d hangout for a minute.

March:Where’s master Yunli? You both usually race here to try teach your swordplay before the other.

Yanqing:Oh, um she’s probably a little busy. It’s not long before she goes home after all.

Dan Heng:It is getting close to that time. I could imagine her trying to make the most of her time left now that things are getting calm,

Yanqing:That does sound like something she’d do. *rubs head*

The stooges:(He’s holding out on us.)

March:Oh! I almost forgot. You two had dinner last night. Did it get well?

Yanqing:..It was fine. My cooking was criticized but she still ate two plates. We got through Cloud Knight business pretty quickly. Sorry I couldn’t treat you as well.

March:Water under the bridge. I’m amazed you two got along well enough. I thought I would hear another fight.

Yanqing:We don’t always fight.

Caelus:Then what’s the bruise on your neck?

The boy immediately went to adjust his collar, only to realize it was still perfectly in place. Suddenly, his body froze as he felt mortified. How’d he fall for such a bluff!? March and Dan Heng felt their wallets start to hurt while Caelus and Stelle gained a grin that might as will belong on Aha.

Stelle:What’s the matter Yanqing? You look pale.

Caelus:Kindly pull down your collar and we will go in peace.

Yanqing:You all made a bet, didn’t you?

Dan Heng:If it makes you feel better, March and I thought highly of you both.

Yanqing:I’m so sorry.

March:Nooo! *drops to knees*

Stelle:For clarification, you didn’t didn’t…

Yanqing:*red* Of course not! We aren’t dumb!

Stelle:Yeaaaaah! I expect my credits handed, not wired.

Caelus:*pats Yanqing shoulder* I don’t think they’re arguing with the results. Don’t worry about the collar.

Yanqing:Thank you.

Dan Heng:So, where’s Yunli exactly?

xxxxx

Lingsha:Medicine that removes bruises?

Yunli: *in Yanqing’s clothes* Yes. That’s all I require.

Lingsha:….

Yunli:…..Please don’t tell grandpa.

Lingsha:You have my silence. I’m just a little annoyed I now owe Jing Yuan and Feixiao 50,000 credits.

Yunli:YOU MADE A BET ON ME!?

Lingsha:In confidence, and you failed me! Just like that, they got the money back from the medical bill! *sends money*

xxxxxx

Feixiao:And that’s why you’re the Divine Foresight! We drink tonight!

Jing Yuan:Please, I’d rather not pay property damages with this. I’ll give you my share if you don’t drink until you’re home.

Feixiao:Deal!

Jing Yuan:…Was this your endgame?

Feixiao:Perhaps. Don’t worry. This goes towards a good cause.

xxxxx

Moze:How’s it feel?

Jiaoqiu: *holding cane* Natural. It’s pretty remarkable actually. How much was it?

Feixiao: *smiles* It was basically free.

#honkai star rail #hsr march 7th #hsr caelus #hsr dan heng #hsr stelle #hsr yanqing #hsr yunli #hsr lingsha #hsr moze #hsr jiaoqiu #hsr feixiao #hsr yanli #yanli #hsr jing yuan

70 notes · View notes

tokischaaaaa · 3 months ago

Note

a story reader being friends with hamzah before and during 4freakshow? but like reader is like in love with hamzah, but doesn’t want to make it obvious

dumbass 🐀

!hamzah x !latina reader

notes!!: we making y/n and hamzah reallly blind to really obvious shit 🙂‍↕️

warnings: cursing, fluff ig

word count: 3.4k!!!! *longest yet**

y/n and hamzah were newly graduated high school students. they both shared the interest of not going to college, and that’s what led them to meet at a party hosted by a mutual friend.

as for plans after high school, y/n had moved out of her parents place and was living in a hotel room until she could find a place within her budget.

hamzah on the other hand, he was living with his friend, aaron. aaron was working as a streamer, it somewhat paid the bills but for the most part did. hamzah helped by working at a corner market he had been working at since junior year.

however he had admirations for something bigger, something more fun; rather than working at a corner market that had middle aged men come in all the time.

hamzah already had somewhat of a following on tiktok due to his short yet humorous videos. he assumed that the following could be useful in the future if he wanted a job that would allow him to be creative and his funny self.

both of the young adults, who were now free from their guardians, were looking for everything all at once. they both expected to have a great time at the party, but that wasn’t the case.

y/n was found on the back porch sipping her party punch, she couldn’t help but gag every time the red liquid hit her lips.

“it’s like tasting the koolaid man’s werid uncle.” a voice said behind y/n.

she turned around and saw a young man with dark curly hair, a black long sleeve shirt. aswel as baggy jeans and some white airforces.

“yeah more like the creation process of the koolaid man.” y/n smirked.

right there, they kept making jokes about the koolaid man and the horrible punch that tasted like battery acid. they had clicked instantly, expressed their current position in the journey of adulthood.

as hamzah spoke about his admiration for finding a job for creativity and being himself, y/n couldn’t help but become distracted, she couldn’t deny the fact that she was attracted to hamzah.

his courage to come up to her and make such a bad yet perfect joke to spark the conversation between the two was magnificent. and also the fact that he wasn’t looking for a quick fuck or make out session made y/n feel like she struck gold. but she couldn’t deny the fact that she kind of wished he could ask her out or anything!

“what about streaming? you can be yourself then, and you said that you also do the tiktok thing.” y/n proposed playing with her necklace.

hamzah was quiet for a moment then embraced y/n in a tight hug.

“holy shit! your a genius, uhh-“

“y/n,” she smiled

“hamzah.” he smiled back and hugged her again.

the rest of the night was filled with laughter and teasing between the two, hamzah felt as if he found the female version of him, she completed him, and his sentences, she was able to provide him with the little bits of knowledge he lacked when making decisions.

he couldn’t deny that he felt a deeper connection to her, but his charisma bar ran out, he couldn’t ask her out, then she’d think he’d want something from her.

thankfully y/n had sipped enough of the horrible party punch that she was able to have the courage to ask for his number as the party came to an end.

“where you staying at hamzah?” y/n asked as she plugged her number into his phone.

“around oakwood, so like 30 minutes from here. what about you?” he asked

“oh shit! same, kinda. i’m staying at a hotel on riverside right now so i’m like 15 away.”

“wow, how’s that going?”

“it’s a.. expirence!” she laughed.

once the two said goodbye and hopped in their ubers, hamzah was more than excited to text y/n. he was hoping that she sent her real not a fake one, since he had talked her ear off he wouldn’t be surprised if she faked it.

his finger hovered over the send button, he didn’t want to seem desperate, but he kind of was since he had such a great conversation with y/n.

aaron couldn’t help but smirk at hamzahs nervousness over a text. he elbowed hamzah which led to his thumb to touch the send button.

“dude what the fuck?” hamzah groaned.

“i’m just helping you out buddy.” aaron smiled.

y/n had just arrived back at her hotel, she jumped on her bed and fell asleep moments later. too exhausted to check her phone, she could blame the alcohol for her drowsiness but she could blame hamzah too for talking so much. but she couldny blame him, he meant good, the alcohol on the other hand didn’t and would lead to a pounding headache the next day.

the next day, around the afternoon, sleeping beauty y/n finally awoke. she jumped to check her phone as the memories of last night came back into her head, she checked messages and saw the message she was waiting to see

she laughed when she saw his texts that followed, she quickly typed a response to his worrisome texts.

once the two met up, the energy had been restored. y/n and hamzah kept teasing each other , cracking jokes, and making funny noises.

the errand run was a complete success between the two, hamzah was able to pick up everything he needed and y/n was able to pick up on hamzahs likes and dislikes. she was sure to use that information in the future.

as their first official hangout was coming to an end, y/n let hamzah know her schedule as well did hamzah, she showed him her hotel (from the outside), since hamzahs hands were full with groceries. they were going to make sure to see each other again, somehow someway.

y/n became a nervous wreck when she got back to her apartment, she couldn’t deny now that her crush for hamzah got bigger after this hangout. but she decided to push it to the side, not wanting to screw up the connection they already shared.

over the next few weeks, hamzah and y/n would meet up every few days. y/n met hamzahs roommate, and hamzah saw y/n’s hotel. they would talk, a lot. order food and talk for hours or watch tv together. hamzah and y/n couldn’t deny that there was something there but neither of them would say anything about the subject.

as for hamzah’s newly created twitch account, the followers were increasing by each stream. hamzah let y/n know about the success of his streams, but she couldn’t help but realize how long his streams had been getting, they weren’t hanging out as much.

y/n started to get jealous and it was getting harder for her to hide it, she missed hamzah, she missed his presence. however, hamzah being so infatuated with this new freedom he craved he wouldn’t respond to y/n’s texts.

her texts of asking how hamzah was, if he was okay, how stream is going, asking when they could hangout again, would all become ignored by hamzah. hamzah had been meeting new friends through streaming and eventually did group streams with his newly established group, freakshow. hamzah had forgotten about the person that made him enjoy freedom, y/n.

y/n felt absolutely shitty, she felt played, and portrayed as if she was desperate. she thoght she found someone who matched her, she was right in the beginning, but she was so far off. she wouldn’t ghost someone like this and leave them in the dust like this, even if she was busy. she was absolutely disappointed and disgusted in hamzah.

one day while hamzah was streaming he got a call from y/n, it took him by surprise. he quickly realized how long it had been since they had talked. he quickly muted stream and answered the call.

“y/n? hi, how’ve you been?”

“shit, well sleepy.” y/n’s words are slightly slurred.

“y/n are you drunk?” hamzah asked with concern.

“why does it matter to you, your a dick .” y/n snaps.

“what do you mean? are you ok?”

“your blind hamzah, blind, blind, blind! just like stevie wonder!” she yelled into the phone, a hurl could be heard from her, she quickly ended the call.

this left hamzah completely distraught, does he go to her house and see what happened? or does he continue stream?

he decided to put his job aside and check on y/n, he unmuted stream and let his viewers know that he had to leave for his own reasons.

he quickly ended stream and grabbed his keys and drove to y/n’s apartment.

as hamzah was driving towards y/n’s hotel he couldn’t help but realize how he had missed time with her, how he hadnt seen her in a while. he wondered what happened, then it hit him. it was him, he was the reason for the fun that stopped.

it felt like a slap when the guilt hit him. he realized why y/n had called him a dick but not the blind part. as least he knows why he called her one thing, the other thing is for another day, he thought.

as he got to her hotel, the front desk asked who he was to y/n, “frie— boyfriend!” he blurted out, taking himself by surprise.

the front desk woman nodded and let him upstairs. the time hamzahs was waiting to get to her room in the elevator, nerves hit him. he was worried about what he was going to walk into, but he had no choice but to put that aside, just as y/n had as they hung out.

hamzah banged on the door several times, until y/n opened it weakly with one arm and the rest of her body on the floor.

“y/n! shit! what happened!” hamzah said trying to lift y/n up.

“life. and failed expectations.” y/n hummed.

hamzah grunted as he carried y/n bridal style to her bedroom, y/n could’ve melted right there. oh how she wished she was sober to experience this and really remember it.

hamzah laid her on her bed, “shit, what do i get you?” he said under his breath. y/n was now looking up at her ceiling, absolutely fucked up.

hamzah was about to leave her bedroom to grab her some water before y/n asked,

“hamzah do you hate me?”

“no! why would you ask that?”

“you left me, no call no answer.” she mumbled.

“what did you say y/n?” hamzah asked getting closer to the bed.

y/n was silent for a few moments before hurling her brains out, thankfully in a bucket that just so happened to be next to her bed.

“ah shit! y/n here let me help you.” hamzah said trying to pull her hair back.

y/n instantly rejected him, “get out hamzah.” she cried.

“what? what did i do?” hamzah asked taken aback.

“you, your the problem, your the do, get the fuck out!” she screamed.

hamzah knew it was better than to argue with her, especially if she was drunk. he felt helpless, he walked outside her room. his heart sunk as he left the hotel.

as hamzah got into his car and started driving, the memory of y/n calling him blind kept repeating in his head.

hamzah decided to give y/n space, this time with his awareness. he didn’t know what had gotten into her, what caused her to kick him out so aburptly.

as the days got longer for hamzah since lack of sleep, due to the repeating question, “what am i blind to?”

y/n had stopped completely texting hamzah altogether, she decided to stop contacting him and having him in her head. she focused on work, she took more hours so she could be distracted from the time lost from being ‘played’ by hamzah. she was able to rent her first apartment, she was extremely proud of herself, but there was a part of herself that wanted to celebrate this big moment with hamzah.

with work, and now moving she easily became overwhelmed and she developed a cold due to overworking her body. a friend from work had stopped by and told her to not get back to work until she was fully recovered.

though y/n was stubborn she gave in and took time for herself and for her body to fully recover. however it was hard since she still had to keep making trips to the hotel she stayed at previously to move them into her new apartment.

work wise for hamzah.. there’s been a recent spike in viewers for freakshow. so he’s been enjoying making content and building friendships with chase, haley, and claire. some of the clips from their livestreams have gone viral which was great for hamzah but not so good for y/n.

as she was on bedrest, she opened instagram swiped through people’s stories but her throat started to close as she saw hamzahs.

it was a repost of someone’s story, the repost was a video of a girl yelling “i’m in love with hamzah!” and then the video transitioned into a poorly edited video of that girl and hamzah with the words ‘hamley’ across the screen. hamzah placed 🥺🥺🥺 emojis ontop of the repost.

that broke y/n. this whole time she was trying to suppress her feeling of missing hamzah but now she couldn’t suppress it anymore, this feeling now combined with anger made y/n start sobbing uncontrollably. she didn’t even think about questioning the poorly made edit, she didn’t want to ask questions, because all her questionea were answered. hamzah played her.

meanwhile 👀,

hamzah just ended another successful freakshow stream but was still on call with the other 3 members to chit chat.

however the others were talking about something that didn’t interest hamzah so he went on his phone and checked on his story. he decided to dabble on the viewers, it always excited him as the numbers rose, and the witty responses from his followers.

however he felt his throat dry up as he saw y/n’s account. hamzah’s caught off guard and remains silent for a while until chase asks,

“hamzah what’s on your mind?”

hamzah looks up at the camera , “na i was checking my story viewers and i saw this girl that i used to be really close with.”

“so what happpened?” claire asked.

“we used to hang out almost any day we were both free, talk and shit then i got busy with streaming. but like a few weeks ago she drunk called me and then she got sick and i tried to help her but she yelled at me to get out. very confusing.” hamzah shrugged.

“holdup hamzah, was it my story you reposted?” haley asked biting the inside of her cheek.

“yes, why.” hamzah says dumbfounded.

claire, haley, and chase share the same irritated expression towards hamzah.

“why what happened?” hamzah asks

“where you close , ‘close’ with her?” chase asks

“yea we used to hang out every week.”

“you fucked up, big time.” claire blurts out.

“hamzah, did she ever… text you like how was your day, check in on you? possibly tell you deep stuff? compliment you?”

“yeah, where’s this leading to?” hamzah asks

“hamzah she likes you, or did like you.” chase says.

“what do you mean? how?” hamzah cried, not being able to believe what he’s hearing.

“ she trusted yourself !! that’s how!” the 3 scream at hamzah.

“really? i didn’t know if she liked me? i thought she was just being nice.”

“no!” the 3 yell again

“ok jeesh. what do i do now?”

“do you like her?”

“yeah, like since we met at the party our energy clicked. we got along really well but like i didn’t know if she wanted to be more than friends.”

“hamzah your a fucking dumbass.” claire yells at hamzah.

it takes a few moments before everything registers in hamzahs brain completely.

then, he realizes what he has to do.

he quickly says bye to everyone on call and grabs his keys and wallet and runs to his car.

as hamzahs driving to y/n’s hotel it starts to pour hard. as he try’s to run inside to her hotel but his head becomes drenched in the rain.

he runs to the front desk and asks the woman there for y/n.

“sorry sir, she doesn’t live here anymore.”

hamzahs heart sinks.

“however she does stop by frequently to move her items here to her new apartment. here i’ll give you this spare key to see if she’s here.” she smiles.

hamzah is absolutely greatful to the elder woman, “just come back in 45 minutes so my boss isn’t suspicious.” she smiles as she hands him the spare key.

as he’s inside the elevator his heart is racing, he doesn’t know what to expect, he’s hopeful that she’s there but doubtful, he doesn’t want to be late as he was all the other times he was to her subtle hints.

he heads upstairs, to see if her room is open so he can maybe catch her to say something.

as he gets upstairs he can’t see her, he sighs in defeat and as he’s about to leave.

“hamzah. what the fuck are you doing here?”

“y/n i need to explain everything, i’m so sorry, i was so fucking blind, and such a pussy.” he starts.

“continue.” y/n says crossing her arms.

“fuck, y/n i like you, i liked you since i saw you at that party. i saw you weren’t liking it there and neither was i, i wanted to be around you, make you feel better. after time you made me feel great and reestablished a feeling that i haven’t felt since i got out of my house, freedom. but so much of that shit fucked up what was between us.”

“y/n i now understand why you called me blind, i was blind to that fact that your kindness was out of a deep connection we had, a feeling we both shared.”

y/n stayed silent for a few moments before saying, “what about your girlfriend? hamely?” she said rolling her eyes.

hamzah couldn’t help but burst out laughing, “y/n that’s a fake ship name, the group i work with, we made that up so it would add more viewers. it’s all fake, trust. also, she lives in california and has a boyfriend.”

y/n’s stern face dropped. she approached hamzah a year started to roll off of her cheeks.

“hamzah, im sorry.” she said.

“i should be the one apologizing y/n, i should’ve had your feelings into consideration. that’s all on me, let me make it up to you. let me take you out. please.”

y/n stares at him, “you gonna ghost me after?”

hamzah gets closer to y/n, he takes her hands into his, “never.” he says and puts his hand onto her jawline and kisses her deeply.

“again.” she says as she breaks the kiss.

hamzah smiles, his wet curls blocking his eyes but he doesn’t care, he can see clear now, clear that y/n was really his other half, his person.

hamzah holds his arms out and gets closer to y/n, his wet shirt clinging to his body. his smile widens as he gazes into her eyes, feeling the warmth between them despite the cool dampness of his clothes. without saying a word, he wraps his arms around her, pulling her into a tender embrace.

the scent of rain lingers in the air as their bodies press together, and he whispers softly, "i’ve never been more certain of anything. you’re everything i’ve been looking for, y/n".

“sorry for being such a dumbass.”

“it’s okay, you’re my dumbass, i can handle it.” she smiles.

#hamzahthefantastic #slushy noobz #hamzah imagines #hamzah x reader #hamzah x y/n #hamzahthefantastic x reader #tokischaaahablas

72 notes · View notes

deakyjoe · 6 months ago

Text

Love To Hate

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x Reader (fem, afab, she/her)

Category: enemies to lovers, smut, coworkers to lovers

Summary: You hate Dieter Bravo more than anything. So why are you asking him to sleep with you?

Warnings: 18+, smut (!!), protected p in v sex, f receiving oral, brief vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, thigh riding/grinding, groping, kissing, body worship (he loves tits and ass), dirty talk, praise, size kink (??), Dieter has a horse cock, crying, Dieter’s a teasing dick, enemies to lovers, coworkers to lovers, insecurities, sex/masturbation problems (for reader), mentions of unsatisfactory sex, mentions of drug use, reader is shorter than Dieter, let me know if I missed anything!

Word count: 8.8k (woah!)

A/N: I have a series in mind for this so the story between these two could continue. But for now it works as a standalone. Enjoy!

Consider buying me a coffee :)

There was no one in the world you disliked more than Dieter Bravo. It was a shame that he knew you better than anyone else ever had.

The two of you had had the unfortunate experience of always ending up in the same place. It had started during a chemistry read for a movie a few years back. Neither of you had ended up getting the job but it was undeniable that there was chemistry between you. Just not the kind of chemistry needed to play lovers on screen. Let's just say that you'd gotten off on the wrong foot and had never really recovered from it.

Next you'd both attended a charity event together, the both of you somehow being the star beneficiaries of the evening. The night included a lot of strained smiles, forced conversation and fake laughter.

Then there'd been the year long shoot you'd both winded up on for some up and coming director who'd begged for the both of you to appear in his movie, the promises of awards from every inch of the world for the both of you afterwards. And when award season came around, it turned out he was right. Awards did come flooding in. But for Dieter. Not you. It didn't help that you had to see the smug actor give the same speech at every ceremony as he graciously accepted the accolades.

And with that came the press junkets and the rounds of interviews, panels, and question and answer sessions. You pretty much saw Dieter Bravo every single day for almost two years. And the distaste for him never really went away. Sadly, this meant that he came to know the ins and outs of your life. Dieter could recite your schedule, list every single detail of your close friends and family's lives and could read your emotions like an open book. He knew you well. Too well. And he used this to his advantage.

And here you were again. On another movie with him. Somehow. You didn't know how it'd come to be as you'd made your agent swear never to put you in a project with him again. But shit happens.

After weeks of endless negotiations about budget, you'd finally arrived on set for rehearsals and table reads and the director had already warned that you were behind schedule. Shooting hadn't even started yet and you were already regretting it.

It didn't help when you'd been told that the hotel room that had been provided for you by the production company was right next to Dieter's. When you'd gotten there, you'd just stared at your shared wall for ten minutes and wondered how sound proof it was. You knew his reputation, had witnessed it even, and didn't fancy the sleepless nights if he was bringing someone new back to his room every night for the foreseeable future.

When you arrived for day one of table reads, you rushed around introducing yourself to everyone. You weren't the most sociable person ever, funny considering your career choice, and avoided one particular person whose gaze followed you around the room the whole time.

It was impossible not to feel his eyes on you. When Dieter's dark brown eyes latched onto a target, he wouldn't let go until he had his claws sunk in. In your case, it was different. He didn't view you as someone to sleep with but someone to torment with his presence instead.

You managed to successfully ignore him until your over enthusiastic director, Rodney, felt the need to introduce the two of you despite him knowing that the two of you already knew each other.

You looked up at Dieter, preparing yourself for the worst. His eyes looked clearer than usual, not as glazed over. You figured he'd been to rehab recently and was temporarily sober. That happened often. But never lasted long.

"Hi." You nodded up at him, brushing off the director's superficial nonsense that he'd spouted in attempt to make the two of you sudden best friends.

Dieter didn't return the greeting. "How're your parents?"

Small talk was meaningless between the two of you. Dieter knew everything about you. Everything. He'd met your parents on more than one occasion at different after parties, wrap parties, even on set once or twice. You hated to say that your mother loved him and your father liked him more than anyone else you'd ever introduced him to in this industry.

"Fine. Grandparents now." You replied, watching Rodney ease himself out of the conversation and wander off.

"Sister and her husband finally managed to conceive, huh?" He asked and you nodded in response despite the weird way he'd worded it. "You're an aunt. Cute."

"Yeah. How're you?" You sighed and looked over his shoulder, wondering how long it would take before the snappy responses started between the two of you.

He smirked. "Good."

"Good." You cleared your throat. "I hear that we're neighbours."

"Hm, lucky me."

Your eyes snapped back to his, not quite getting the tone in his voice. "Try to keep the noise down."

The smirk on his face was punchable. "I'll try my best."

You scoffed. "Yeah, okay."

Suddenly, you were swept away by other cast and crew members who were just dying to meet you. That was strange. You were used to people wanting to meet Dieter. But, as you found out from someone on the makeup team, you were the hot commodity on this set. A sense of pride filled your bones at the sound of that.

The days flew by. Table reads were completed, along with a few spontaneous rehearsals. You avoided Dieter at all costs, trying not to interact with him if you weren't reciting words from a script. And it was going pretty well. Except for the nights.

The walls were apparently extremely thin in the hotel you were staying in, just as you’d feared. You knew this how exactly? By the very clear sex sounds that would practically shake the wall you shared with Dieter. Moans, groans, a squeaking bed, a rattling headboard, the occasional scream even. It was torture. And you could do nothing apart from bury your head under a pillow. Unless you developed the confidence to go knocking on his door to tell him to cut it out. Which you didn't.

It didn't escape your notice that he was clearly accompanied by a new person every night, the tones of their noises changing each time. It also didn't escape you that Dieter was clearly very good in bed. If the sounds of his partners were any indication at least. They all seemed very enthusiastic to be in his company.

You grew used to it after a few days. Mainly because you had to. There was no point losing sleep over something you already knew about Dieter. He liked sex. A lot. And he had a reputation for a reason. It just pissed you off that you had to hear it. And that it seemed to come so easily to him...

It was devastating news to you when the director told you that the first day of shooting was going to be one of the sex scenes of the movie. You'd initially attempted to persuade him to move it later into the production but he had insisted that there was no need for that. The years of you and Dieter knowing, and hating, each other had been enough to build the chemistry needed for the movie. All the sexual tension was apparently already there. You’d disagreed with that last point.

When the day finally came, you were tense. More tense than usual anyway. The only thing reassuring you was the meeting you'd had with the intimacy coordinator who had told you that every detail you'd told her, everything that you didn't want to happen, would be implimented to make you as comfortable as possible.

You'd been placed in a bed, naked from the waist up and you had been there alone for longer than you should've been. After so many years you shouldn't be surprised that Dieter was late. It was sort of his specialty. The fact that this was the first day of shooting was mildly annoying however.

When he finally appeared in nothing but his underwear and a robe, the latter of which he shed as soon as he saw you waiting for him in the bed, he sent half hearted apologies to everyone in the room. When he got to you the apology was a lot more sarcastic. "And I am eternally sorry for keeping you waiting, sweetheart."

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes and let your head fall back against the pillow, teeth clenching at the sound of the pet name he’d gifted you all those years ago when you’d first met.

Dieter grinned at the reaction and crawled on top of you after both the director and the intimacy coordinator had instructed him of the positioning they wanted. His legs were between yours, an elbow on either side of your head to keep him slightly elevated so he wasn't leaning all of his body weight on you.

You avoided his eyes, having him hovering over you like this with your tits out was embarrassing. Especially when his own bare chest was so close to rubbing against yours.

Dieter lowered his head so his lips brushed against the shell of your ear. "Don't look so tense. It's okay. You're gorgeous and I won't look if you don't want me to."

That surprised you. What surprised you even more is that he looked genuine when he pulled back to meet your eyes again.

You shook your head. "It's fine."

The director suddenly cursed loudly. "Dieter, relax! We're having some issues with the mics so just do whatever for a minute."

"Sure thing, boss!" Dieter called back, sitting up and pulling the blankets up to cover you in the process. "So you don't get cold."

You sat up and clutched the blanket over your chest. "Thanks."

It was freaking you out with how nice he was being. Dieter Bravo was anything but a gentleman. Yet here he was... being almost chivalrous.

And then he winked at you. "Nice rack by the way."

Yeah, okay, you expected him to ruin it.

"Charming, Bravo. Really." You snapped.

"Just stating facts." He shrugged.

You frowned at him and looked away.

"Hey." His voice was soft.

You looked back at him.

"Sorry, it was a joke." His brown eyes were wide and apologetic.

You ran your tongue over your teeth, aggravation rippling through you. "It's fine."

He shook his head, curls bouncing against his forehead. "No, it's not. I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Your frown deepened. "Isn't it your life's mission to irritate me?"

He grinned. "Irritate you? Yes. Make you uncomfortable at work? No."

Before you had the chance to reply, the microphones were fixed and the two of you were instructed to get back into places. You both settled back into position, a sigh escaping you. It was difficult to believe that this was the first thing you were filming. Not even the conversation leading up to this particular section of the scene. You questioned the director's choices.

"Right, so we know what we're doing, yeah?" Rodney called to you both.

You nodded but Dieter raised his hand like he had a question.

"I can't remember. Are we touching tits or not?"

The intimacy coordinator looked towards you for a moment for confirmation before nodding. "Yes. Touching breasts is fine, Dieter."

He hummed in acknowledgment before looking back at you as he flexed his fingers and rolled his wrists. "Gotta get the circulation going so my hands aren't too cold. Don't want your nipples freezing off."

You stared back up at him in slight shock. "That would be unfortunate, yes."

He smiled and pressed the backs of his fingers to your cheek. "That temperature okay?"

"Not nipple freezing cold."

Just maybe nipple hardening cold.

You pushed the thought from your head and gave him a nod to assure him that it was fine. "Let's just get this started."

He laughed at your clear disdain of the situation and looked towards the small group of crew members to give them the go ahead.

It went pretty smoothly. All the technology continued to work for the rest of the scene luckily and neither you nor Dieter messed up too much to call for reshoots. You simply just gave each other a lot of open mouthed, but tongueless, kisses with no emotion behind them whatsoever and made noises of satsifaction in all the right places as he groped at you gently but confidently. It was a surprisingly simple day of shooting. The director had decided that this would be all you did for the first day, wanting a few good angles that would take up a lot of time, and didn't want to push you into doing more than necessary.

When lunch rolled around, you grabbed a salad from the catering tent outside and took a seat on a table by yourself. You wanted a few moments of peace to relax before you got back into the swing of shooting. The peace was short lived as your least favourite person took a seat directly opposite you, a sandwich on his plate.

You stared at him with scorn. "I wasn't aware we did lunch together."

Dieter looked back at you amused. "Well, considering that I've felt you up now, I thought it was only fitting to grace you with my presence over a lovely meal." His eyes lowered to your salad. "Why the fuck did you get that?"

You poked at the sad plate in front of you with your fork. "It was the only thing that looked remotely fresh."

He looked at his own food. "I do have to say that my sandwich looks a few days old."

"Days?" You gasped. "Try decades!"

Dieter scoffed. "Well, some of us can't afford to eat a salad. Some of us are trying to maintain our physiques."

He was referencing the so-called dad bod he'd developed over the last few years. People loved it. His cheeks were fuller than they used to be, somehow making his dimples more pronounced when he smiled, and his stomach was now softer. It was hot. That was for sure. You held your own quiet appreciation for the way he looked. But that wasn't something you would ever voice to him. Not in a million years.

"Maybe some carbs would make you loosen up." He added on, frowning down at his sandwich now that you'd both acknowledged how it most definitely hadn't been made that day. "Get that stick out your ass."

Something in you snapped at that. You did not have a stick up your ass. You did not need to loosen up. So you did the thing you'd told yourself you wouldn't. You decided to confront him.

You played it cool at first. "How long have we known each other?"

He looked back up at you, eyes squinted in confusion. "A long time. Too long even. Why?"

"Would it be acceptable for me to ask you for a small favour?" You stirred your salad with the fork, not easily done, in an attempt to seem nonchalant.

That caught his attention, giving you his full focus as his head tilted to the side slightly. "That depends on what this small favour is."

"When you have... fun time with your... friends could you play some music? Or better yet, go back to their place? Walls are thin." You hated the words that came out of your mouth. Why didn't you just say sex? Too late now.

His eyebrows quirked at your strange terminology. "When I what?"

"You know." You waved your hand, determined to stick with it now.

"Have sex? Fuck? Bang? Screw?" He asked and you nodded. "Come on, we're both adults. You can say sex to my face. Especially since you've heard it apparently."

Your brows pushed together unhappily. "Fine. When you have sex."

"Only if you promise to play music when you fail to get yourself off when you masturbate." He finally took a bite of his sandwich and immediately grimaced.

Your heart dropped down to your stomach. "What?"

He smirked, knowing he had you. "Walls are thin. You're loud. And frustrated."

"You hear me?" You knew the walls were thin. You didn't know that they were that thin. You always tried to stay as quiet as possible.

Dieter prodded at his sandwich with his finger a final time before pushing it away. "It'd be pretty hard not to. Maybe I should introduce you to one of my friends. To help you, I mean."

"Wouldn't work." You mumbled, not really for him to hear.

His interest was piqued further. "Oh, so a full orgasm mental block then?"

You clenched your teeth together. "I hate you."

"Unfortunate considering I'm the only person capable of reading you like an open book." He grinned at you, fully sarcastic. "Hmm, maybe that's what you need actually."

"What?"

"Someone capable of reading you like a book. To see what's really working, or not working, for you." He looked you up and down quickly.

You scoffed. "You better not be suggesting what I think you're suggesting."

His voice dipped down in both volume and tone. "You know I'd be better than anyone else you've ever had. You've heard my work. I'm exceptional and come highly recommended."

You looked away from him. "That's not funny, Dieter."

"You're sexually frustrated?"

You huffed. "Yes. Very."

"And I'm good at sex and know you better than anyone. Is it not a reasonable conclusion?" He threw his hands in the air as if to emphasise how obvious the solution should be.

"You're ridiculous." You hissed, pushing up from the table and storming away. You hated him. Despised him.

"The orgasms would make you feel better." He called after you.

You didn't fail to notice the use of the plural - orgasms.

Luckily for you the rest of the day consisted of close ups of just you sprawled on the bed. No Dieter needed. But you didn't fail to notice how he hovered around the set anyway and observed. His brown eyes burned into your skin for the remainder of filming.

When you were done, you retreated to your dressing room and got dressed as quickly as you could. A car was called at your request and you were back in your hotel room ordering room service before anyone even had the opportunity to invite you out for drinks to celebrate the first day of filming.

You needed to be alone. For many reasons, including the fact that you just liked your solitude. But the biggest one, the reason that had been plaguing your mind since it had been suggested to you, was the idea of sleeping with Dieter. Not being able to believe yourself at how utterly ridiculous it was, but you were seriously considering it.

You knew he was good in bed. The sex noises you'd heard through the wall didn't lie. But he was the one person in the world that you disliked more than anyone else you had ever met. So why was the idea of it playing around in your head so much?

When you heard Dieter's own hotel room door close, you were surprised that he seemed to be alone. Abnormal. For him at least. But you ignored it.

And you ignored the ache between your legs that was bothering you as you showered and changed into your pyjamas. You ignored the way your heart hammered in your chest as you crawled under the bedsheets. You ignored the fact that you were still wide awake after two hours of attemtping to fall asleep.

Well... you ignored it for another thirty minutes before you sighed to yourself and got out of bed, grabbed your room key and tiptoed to your co-star's room. You knocked once quietly and received no answer. So you knocked again, louder and more impatient this time. After a few seconds his door swung open with the quietest of creaks but loud enough to still make you wince. You weren't doing anything wrong technically but the idea of anyone finding out about this made your stomach churn.

Dieter stood there, rumpled from bed, and looked down at you confused. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he mumbled a gravelly question. "Why're you here?"

You hesitated which caught his attention, suddenly sobering up from fatigue and looking more concerned.

"You okay?”

Your jaw ticked with nerves. Fuck it, what did you have to lose? "Your offer."

"My offer?" He looked more confused than before, obviously not recalling your previous conversation.

You sighed, frustratedly. "Yes. About sleeping with you."

He blinked rapidly a couple of times. "I was only teasing. I'm sorry if I offended you-"

You interrupted him before he could go any further and ruin what confidence you'd managed to build up. "No, I'm here to take you up on it."

Dieter said nothing which was not a good sign. He loved to talk, especially to annoy you. Silence meant something bad.

"You were right. I'm sexually frustrated and can't get off. By myself or with anyone." You whispered harshly. "I think you're attractive and you're my best hope at finding out whether I'm just broken or something else is going on."

He looked down at you with softened eyes. Pity. You didn't want his pity. "I don't-"

You cut him off again. "Please."

He paused and then nodded, opening the door wider. "Okay."

You pushed past him. "No one ever finds out about this and we never talk about it again. Is that clear?"

"Crystal." He closed and locked the door behind the two of you. "For the record, I was going to say that I don't think you're broken."

"We'll determine that after you, hopefully, manage to make me come." You planted your hands on your hips.

His eyes raked over you. "You're too stressed. You're not used to casual, are you?"

"No, I can do casual with people I don't know and who definitely don't know me. And you know me too well, Dieter. So, yeah, I'm stressed. Because this-" You gestured between the two of you. "-isn't casual."

"Relax. I'm sure I'll be able to figure out what makes you tick." He smirked, sauntering closer. "I already know what you don't like."

You flinched at that statement. "How?"

"Had a very long conversation with the intimacy coordinator about what was off-limits. Apparently you had a list." A real smile broke across his face as he reached up to pull your hands from your hips, plucking your room key from your fingers and tossing it onto the vanity, before tracing his own fingers across your arms.

Heat prickled the surface of your skin. "Oh."

"Don't look so embarrassed." His hands got to your shoulders and rested there, forcing them down to relax. "Although, you could've told me yourself."

"And have you tease me? No thanks." You scoffed, looking away from him.

He hummed lowly in the back of his throat. "I like to tease you, yes. But I never want to make you feel uncomfortable. Not like that anyway and especially not at work. I told you this."

Your gaze darted back to him, to see if he was being genuine. He was.

Your eyebrows pulled up in uncertainty. "You confuse me."

"I know." His teeth sunk into his bottom lip as he looked you up and down. "You confuse me too."

"How?"

His hands slid up to your neck, warm palms engulfing you. "Coming to me begging to have sex despite claiming to loathe me."

You briefly snapped out of the atmosphere he'd created with his touch and pulled back from him. "I'm not begging."

"I was joking, sweetheart. I'm sorry. You don't have to beg me for this anyway." He tugged you closer to him again.

"What do you mean?" You moved more into his hold.

He chuckled, one hand lowering to circle around your waist and dipping his head to trace the lines of your neck with the tip of his nose. "Nothing. I'm just talking to calm you and make you more pliant."

Your eyelids fluttered shut. "Touch my tits with your icicle hands again and I'm sure we'll get there eventually."

He laughed louder at that, one hand cupping your cheek as he pulled back to look at you. "Are they really that cold?"

"They were earlier. Now they're warmer." You pressed your cheek into his palm, eyes closing at the feeling.

"Leaning on them for too long fucks up my blood flow." He explained, swiping his thumb across your skin. "You're so pretty."

Your eyes shot open to meet his at that. You'd never seen him look so sincere. You'd also never felt the desire to kiss him before. Until now. "Please kiss me." You curled your fists into the front of his shirt and pulled him down to meet your eyeline.

His forehead pushed against yours. "You sure you want this?"

"Positive."

He took that and pressed his lips against yours, soft and tender, barely there. And pulled back again to gauge your reaction.

"More." You whispered, hands sliding up to thread into the hair on the back of his head.

He hummed lowly, a flicker of a smile on his face before he kissed you again. This time it was firmer and held more purpose. You'd never noticed before but Dieter smelt nice. It was comforting as he drew you into his chest, arms wrapped tightly around you. The kisses grew more heated, moving from a few pecks to being open mouthed and longer. He was a good kisser, you begrudgingly noted. Good for now but the part of you that hated him disliked that he was also gifted at this. When his tongue slid into your mouth and pressed up against yours, you tensed up. It wasn't unpleasant. Just a bit of a shock to the system.

Dieter pulled back to look down at you. "Relax. I'll look after you, I promise. Believe me?"

"Yes." You whispered and pulled him back towards you. No one had ever kissed you like this. Dieter understood you. He felt the way your muscles would shift when he did something you didn't like and would immediately pull back, quickly assess the situation and find something else you preferred. His hands lingered in places that made you feel good, kissed you enough so you felt wanted but not too much to overwhelm you. You'd never felt so safe with someone before.

And you never could have imagined the feeling that was swirling around inside you at the notion that he was touching you, kissing you. This was Dieter Bravo. The man you'd hated for years. And yet here he was, making you feel things you'd never felt before this moment. Sure, you'd acknowledged the fact that he was an attractive man when you'd first met him. But the idea of being attracted to him had never crossed your mind until recently. Very recently. It just didn't seem possible.

His hands slid down to your ass, palming the flesh there as he groaned into your mouth at the feeling. It was nice to know that he was enjoying this as well. He crowded you against him, seeming to take an impossible step closer to you.

He broke away from you momentarily. "Trust me?"

"Yes." You nodded slowly, dazed by the fact that it was true. You did trust him. With this at least anyway.

He smiled against your lips at that. "Do you want control or do you want me to take care of you?"

You pondered it for a moment. You didn't even know where you'd start with this. With him. It was an overwhelming thought. Which is why your answer was so natural.

"Take care of me please."

His responding smile was easy, soothing, as he directed you backwards towards the bed until your legs hit the frame.

"We're going to take this slow, okay? So try to have some patience." He cupped your face in his large hands, looking at you seriously.

You huffed. "I can be patient. As long as it's worth my time."

He laughed and kissed you quickly. "I'll make this worth your time."

You giggled against his mouth. "You're very confident in your abilities."

"As are you considering you're here asking me to make you come." He moved to place an open mouthed kiss on your jaw, teeth scraping against your skin. "Get on the bed."

It took a lot of self restraint for Dieter to stop himself from just picking you up and throwing you on the bed. But he promised himself he'd be gentle with you, giving you some power over the situation. After all, you'd asked him to take care of you. So that's exactly what he was going to do.

He didn't need to ask you twice by the seems of it anyway since you dropped onto the bed at his request, bouncing a couple of times before pulling your legs up and sliding yourself backwards towards the pillows. Dieter smothered a gleeful grin at how suddenly eager you seemed to be. Your enthusiam should only help your orgasm problem, as long as he got you to ease up a lot more. You were such a tense person. He tasked himself with rectifying that.

Climbing onto the bed and sitting up on his knees, Dieter looked at you breathing heavily, chest heaving as you waited for him to get closer. He couldn't quite tell if you were anxious or just turned on. He fell forward onto his hands and crawled to you, pushing you onto your back as he moved over you.

Gaze moving towards the way your breasts were straining against your sleep shirt with every inhale, he let a question roll around in his head for a couple of seconds before just deciding to ask it. "On a scale of one to ten, how horny would you say you are right now?"

Your mouth dropped open, that was the last thing you expected him to say with the way his pupils had blown wide as he stared at your chest. "A six. Maybe a seven."

He only grunted in response.

"It might be higher. I can't tell. I'm pretty nervous."

Ah, so anxiety was playing a factor in your breathing rate. Good to know, Dieter thought.

"Let's fix that." He rasped before kissing you again, not hesitating this time to let his tongue roam your mouth. He found he liked the way your legs seemed to automatically wrap around him and pull him closer over you so you were chest to chest.

Your arms wound around his neck, one hand carding through his hair. The two of you barely broke away for breath, the only sound in the room being those of your lips colliding and separating. You were surprised to find how long he kissed you without doing anything else. Most guys would be insisting on getting into your pants right about now. But Dieter hadn't done anything more than grope at your ass, and that had been when you were still standing up.

You liked kissing. Liked it a lot. Especially when the person you were kissing was good at it and seemed to enjoy it as much as you did. So this was nice. Just kissing. You hadn't kissed someone for this long since you were a teenager and still a virgin when making out seemed like the most exciting thing in the world.

You let your hands roam Dieter a little more, allowing them to drift down his back and smooth back up across his shoulders. He was so broad, you realised. How had you never realised how big he was before? He was taller than you, sure. But you had never noticed the sheer size of him before. He was broad shouldered and had large hands. It sent a pulse to your core.

He made you squeal in surprise when he managed to wrap his arms around and underneath you and flipped the two of you so you were on your sides, legs tangled together and not an inch of space between you. Despite the lack of room, you still found yourself pushing into him even more. He encouraged this by gliding a hand to the small of your back and pressing you against him. He groaned into your mouth when your pelvis moved against his, rubbing against his hard on.

Instead of pursuing that like you assumed he would, he grabbed your thigh and hooked your leg over his waist so your clothed pussy pushed against the muscle of his thigh. He could feel the heat of you through two layers of clothing, both your sleep shorts and his own pants. Then his hand slipped over to your ass where he squeezed, causing a gasp to rattle out of you into his mouth, and rocked your hips against his thigh. You felt your clit grinding against him and whined at the feeling it made ripple through you.

"Mm, good girl." He whispered against your lips and rocked you against him again.

It felt good. Better than you expected it to. So you picked up the pace yourself, letting his hand guide you as you ground yourself against his thigh desperately. The sensation was slowly building, very slowly, but it was definitely there. You didn't have the brain capacity to think about the potential orgasm sneaking up on you though as Dieter kept kissing you, despite it becoming messier as you couldn't hold back the noises he was drawing out of you. It became a simple clash of lips and tongues, teeth clacking together every few seconds, as you sought out the feeling you craved.

But it became obvious after a little while longer that it was hopeless.

You pulled back from him frustrated and let out a sound of disappointment as you pressed your forehead into his chest. "It's no use- I can't-"

"Hey, hey, hey." He cut you off, placing a finger under your chin to make you look up at him. "Don't give up now. It was close, I know it. We'll just rework and go with a different angle, okay?"

A part of you wanted to run away and forget this whole thing, hoping he wouldn't hold this against you in the future. You couldn't imagine the teasing material Dieter would come up with if he knew the fact that you couldn't come and had run away after failing to get off with him.

But the way he was looking at you, so warm and kind, had you rethinking that. This was so unlike him. So you just nodded at him.

He returned the nod, a smile on his face. "Okay. So, that felt good, didn't it?" He didn't need you to agree. The sounds you were making told him enough. "So we'll slow down and keep going from there."

You didn't exactly know what he meant by that but decided to just carry on following his lead anyway. Delighted when he kissed you again, you whimpered against his mouth as his hand returned to your ass and rocked your hips over his thigh again. But this time more gently. He kept doing that for a while, never letting the speed of it increase. And the sensation from before built steadily. You stayed calm and didn't let it overtake you, allowing Dieter to have control over the situation.

He let the sounds coming from your throat tell him when to move on to the next step. Slowly he rolled the two of you over so you were on your back again, breaking away from your mouth to start kissing down the length of your body.

You raised your head to look at him. "What are you doing?"

"I'm going down on you." He said casually, finger tracing along the buttons of your shirt. "Can I take this off?"

You nodded, watching as he unfastened each button unhurriedly and sat up to help him slide it from your shoulders. "You don't have to do that. I know a lot of guys don't like that."

His head snapped up to meet your eyes, looking as if you'd just shot him. "Who the fuck have you been sleeping with?" He asked with disgust, hands landing on your chest and immediately kneading the flesh of your tits.

Your mouth dropped open at the feeling, head dropping back onto the pillows. "Guys not worth my time apparently."

"You're right about that." Dieter mumbled, flicking his tongue over one of your nipples. "I happen to love eating pussy."

"Noted." You sighed, toes curling as he sucked the nipple into his mouth.

After spending a considerable amount of time worshipping your chest, including lots of babbling about how fucking soft you were, Dieter finally decided to carry on with his journey downwards. He tugged at the string of your sleep shorts, ribbon unravelling and leaving the waistband loose.

He glanced up at you with the silent question of asking permission to take the shorts off which you nodded at. He smirked and slid them down your legs with the aid of you arching yourself up to help him, pleased when he saw you weren’t wearing panties. The smirk grew into a smile that could only compared to that of the Cheshire Cat when he saw how wet you were.

"All this from just rubbing yourself against my thigh. Lucky me."

"Don't make fun of me." You grumbled, glaring at him.

He tutted, pushing your thighs apart to get a better look. "I'm not, sweetheart, I promise. I can't wait to taste you."

You had no time to reply as he rubbed a thumb across you, spreading your arousal across your slit and up to your clit where he circled a couple of times. Flattening himself onto his stomach so his face was level with your pussy, Dieter placed a tentative lick on your clit. When a broken cry escaped you, he took it as a sign to keep going. Licking a long stripe up, gathering your wetness on his tongue, Dieter let out a moan of his own. You tasted better than he anticipated. It was going to take a lot for him to not bury his face against you and suffocate himself.

Instead he chose to lick against your clit a couple more times, liking the way your back arched up off the bed at the feeling. Slowly, he sucked the bundle of nerves into his mouth and revelled at the strangled whimper that left you, a hand flying into his hair to pull him closer. Dieter groaned as you tugged on the brown strands. Focusing on your clit for a while, he chose to test something else. He slid a finger into you, feeling your thighs tense on either side of his head. And not in a good way. So he removed the finger and chose to continue just suckling on your clit instead.

You weren't quite there yet and that was okay. He was fine with using just his mouth and tongue for the moment. You started writhing under him anyway, which was a good sign in his mind, so he flattened a hand over your stomach to keep you still.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck." You gasped, pulling on his hair even harder. You were close, moving to the brink with every move Dieter made, and you both knew it.

Dieter just wondered what would get you there. He could see out of the corner of his eye that the hand that wasn't in his hair was grasping at the sheets beneath you. So he reached out to take it in his. And so with one of his hands on your stomach to keep you still and one of yours looped through his hair, the free hands that each of you had finding each other and linking, fingers lacing together, that was all it took to have you crashing over the edge.

Your thighs trembled on either side of his head as you practically screamed his name, hand pushing his face into you as your hips moved against him of their own accord. The orgasm pulsed through you, seeming almost never ending, as Dieter crawled back up the length of your body and placed kisses all over your face.

When you finally returned back down to Earth, you opened your eyes and blinked up at him. You couldn’t believe he’d managed it. "You are fucking good at this."

He shook his head and chuckled. "That was the easy part. What's next is the real test."

"Easy- next- what?" You were beyond confused. He'd made you come. His task was complete. What was he talking about?

"The majority of women get off easier with oral. Penetrative sex isn't as likely to make a woman come." He explained, sitting up and reaching off the side of the bed to open a drawer in his nightstand and retrieve a condom. "These are cherry flavoured, is that okay? Or do you have an allergy to flavoured lube? Shit, or a latex allergy?"

You swallowed thickly. "You're going to fuck me? Like actually fuck me?"

"Look at you managing to say fuck. Big turn around from fun time or whatever shit you said to me this afternoon." He shook his head as he chuckled. "But yes, sweetheart. I am going to fuck you. Unless you don't want me to. And in that case I'll have to politely ask you to excuse me so I can go jerk off in the bathroom. But I think it'll be nice. Another orgasm never hurts."

The two of you held eye contact for a moment as he waited for you to respond. The idea of another orgasm had you wanting more.

"No allergies to flavoured lube or latex here." You said, reaching out to grab at his t-shirt to pull him over you again.

"I'm so glad to hear that because this is all I've got." He breathed against your mouth before kissing you.

Your hands slid to the hem of his t-shirt, sliding it up slowly and over his head when he broke away from you momentarily to take it off. Your hands immediately landed on his chest, nails raking down his torso onto his stomach and then your fingers hooked into his waistband. Dieter gave you the go ahead to tug the pants down with a low hum and kicked them off his feet without pulling away from your mouth for a second.

You didn't need to look to know that Dieter was big considering all of him was suddenly pressed up against you. You found it fascinating to know that the rumours of him being hung like a horse were, in fact, very true.

You broke away from the kiss when you felt the full length of him hot and heavy against your stomach. "Fuck me, you're huge."

Dieter looked down between your bodies. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t heard before. "Thanks."

You met his eyes again. "I somehow hate you even more now."

He just burst out into laughter. Now that was new.

"It's not fair that you're good at eating pussy and also have a horse cock. A guy should only have one of those assets. Having both is like having too much power." You groaned, reaching down to take him in your hand.

His laughter abruptly cut off at the feeling of your fingers wrapping around him, head dropping down to meet your shoulder. "Fuck, think it's time to be inside you now."

"That'd be good." You mumbled, watching him as he pushed up onto his knees and ripped the condom open, rolled it down onto his himself with ease and pumped his dick a couple times. The last part was unnecessary considering he was rock hard and not softening anytime soon without coming.

Dieter grabbed the tops of your thighs and used them as leverage to pull you towards him so the two of you aligned. Taking his length in his fist, he slapped the tip against your clit a few times before sliding it up and down your slit, combining the cherry lube with the wetness left behind by your previous orgasm. Notching himself at your entrance, he made eye contact with you for one last bit of confirmation. When he found it, he pushed into you.

He slid in easier than expected, the two of you sighing deeply at the feeling as he leaned over you again. He pulled out slowly after a moment, the clench of your walls making him shudder, and then thrust back in again.

"Does that feel good?" He asked you, needing to check in.

Your legs wrapped around him, forcing him in even deeper somehow. "Fuck yes."

"I'm glad. Because this is heavenly for me." He told you, taking your pleasured expression as an invitation to set up a steady pace. Nothing too fast otherwise he'd be finishing this earlier than he wanted to, but enough to make the both of you feel good.

But you were impatient. "Dieter, faster."

"Sweetheart, if I go any faster then I'm going to blow my load prematurely and I really don't want that. And I’m sure you don’t either."

"I thought you were a veteran at this. Should be able to last longer than two minutes." You quipped back.

He huffed out a laugh. "I was close to jizzing in my pants when we were making out so trust me when I say this is overwhelmingly good for me right now. Besides, gotta make you orgasm again first."

With that statement, he slid a hand between your bodies and rubbed tight circles onto your clit, completely out of pace with the way he was moving in and out of you. The discrepancy between the two sensations had your brain going haywire and you clutched at his face to get him to kiss you again. He groaned into your mouth when you clenched around him again, finally moving a little faster.

As much as Dieter wanted to go slow with you, he could feel how much you craved more. So he picked up the pace and went a little harder, pausing momentarily when the headboard hit the wall and you let out a delighted noise at the sound.

"Oh, you like that?" He asked, mouth dropping open when you nodded rapidly. "Yeah?"

"Yes, Dieter. Oh, my god, yes." You gasped, nails clawing at his shoulders with the need to hold onto something.

"Dirty fucking girl, liking the headboard slamming against the wall." He realised something. "You could hear it when I was in here with other people, couldn't you?"

You could do nothing but confess. "Yes, oh my- fuck!" You were cut off by your own expletive as he rammed back into you, hitting a spot that no one else had even come close to reaching before.

"Wanted to get it as good, huh?" He asked, digging his fingers into the flesh of your thighs as the pace of his thumb increased on your clit. "Promised I'd make it good for you, didn't I?"

You nodded, words escaping you as tears streamed from your eyes.

"Come on, sweetheart. I can feel it. You're going to come for me again, aren't you?" He watched as you attempted to answer him, only managing a few babbled words of agreement. "What do you need? What's going to make you come all over my cock?"

You still couldn't form a coherent sentence as his harsh thrusts had you moving up and down the bed, your tits bouncing in rhythm. So you placed a hand on either of his cheeks and pulled him into a messy kiss, your tongue curling against his. That was what it took to make you orgasm again, a wail leaving your throat and tumbling into Dieter's mouth as your thighs trembled and your walls fluttered around him. The feeling of that sent him over the edge too, a couple more pumps before he was spilling himself into the condom.

Neither of you broke away from the kiss for a moment as you calmed down, sweat pooling between you as he slowly pulled out and the kisses turned sweeter and more innocent. Dieter eventually climbed off of the bed and threw the condom in the trash before crawling back to you.

"What are you doing?" You asked as he settled over you again.

"More making out for a minute." He replied simply, placing his lips over yours.

It lasted longer than a minute, that was for sure. But neither of you were complaining. By the time he decided to pull away again, your legs had stopped shaking with the aftershocks of the orgasm and your breathing had slowed to a normal rate.

Dieter looked down at you pleased with what he'd managed to achieve as a question crossed his mind. "I'm curious... when was the last time you orgasmed?"

You shrugged as the two of you sat up in the bed. "I can't remember."

"Okay, when was the last time you made yourself come? Give me an estimate." He waved his hand around in the air.

You thought about it. "A few months maybe."

He frowned, that was too long in his opinion. "And when was the last time a guy made you come?"

You hesitated before shaking your head.

The frown deepened. "What does that mean?"

You took a deep breath before answering. "Never."

His eyes darkened, lids becoming hooded. "Never?"

"No."

"I'm the first?" He didn't seem to believe you.

But you were insistent. "Yeah."

"Okay, lie back down." He said, poking at your chest to get you to rest against the pillows.

You let out a confused laugh. "What? Why?"

"Because I'm getting another fucking orgasm out of you."

You shook your head, attempting to stay sitting up. "You don't need to. You've done enough."

"Two. You've been given two orgasms by men. Both of which are from me. I need at least a third before I let you leave this room." He stretched his arms out and started moving down the bed. "Besides, you taste good and I already want to go down on you again."

"Dieter, you don't have to do that for me- oh."

He looked smug as he brushed your clit with his thumb, effectively cutting you off.

"Okay, maybe one more won't hurt." You relented, collapsing onto the pillows.

"Excellent." He chirped in response, literally diving in head first into your cunt again with a long lick up your slit. He groaned lowly, looking up at you as he pulled away. "We're gonna have to do this again sometime."

You froze. "What? Why?"

"Because I said I wanted to taste you again but all I'm getting right now is the cherry lube from the condom." He sounded disappointed.

"Sounds delicious, actually." You hummed, pushing yourself up on your elbows so you could see him better.

"Not as delicious as you, fuck." Despite the obvious discontentment, Dieter still went back to licking at you like there was no tomorrow. And it didn't take long for another orgasm to hit you, his skilled tongue combined with the leftover influence of the previous two.

When he made his way up the bed and landed next to you with his eyes closed, you took it as your cue to leave. So you slid out of the bed and started searching for your pyjamas.

"Where are you going?"

You stilled and stiffly turned to look at Dieter. Wasn't it obvious? "Back to my room."

His brow wrinkled "You don't have to go."

You straightened up, suddenly very aware of your nakedness. "I'm not spending the night."

He rolled his eyes. "I wasn't suggesting that, I figured as much. I do, however, strongly believe in this little thing called aftercare.”

"Oh." You hadn't considered that.

"Interested?"

Yes. "Maybe."

He rolled his eyes again, smile still firmly planted on his face, and opened his arms for you. "Get back over here."

You did as he said, easily finding yourself in his embrace as he stroked patterns up and down your back. Some time later he went to get a washcloth from the bathroom to clean away the mess that the cherry lube had made between your thighs, before slipping back into bed next to you.

Despite both of you insisting that you'd go back to your room any minute, you didn't move out of his arms. And eventually the two of you fell asleep wrapped in each other's arms.

A/N: I chose to write this rather than one of my final essays of the uni year… you’re welcome.

#dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo #the bubble #the bubble 2022 #dieter bravo fic #dieter bravo fanfiction #dieter bravo fanfic #dieter bravo smut #ej’s writing #ej’s fics #deakyjoe’s writing #deakyjoe’s fics

98 notes · View notes