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triple-7-heaven · 2 years ago

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ONCE AGAIN

thank you for waiting for me, readers. i do hope you enjoy it ♡ my first aespa fic, awesome! i've been going through it, thus the lack of content, but things are looking up for me. take care of yourselves, until next time :-) pairing: male reader x winter; words: 6.5k ; categories: aespa, winter, reader insert, smut, slightly storyline heavy

Back in high school, there was a girl who shone above the rest, but wasn’t necessarily popular. A girl who was a member of the math club, the photography club, and the dance team, whose evenings were filled with activities, who made many friends, but wasn’t fawned over by the student body in the way the true popular kids were.

One evening, you were at school pretty late, tutoring in the library. You were so engrossed in your work that you didn’t notice the time passing, until the janitor came in and told you he’d be needing to clean the library up, so you’d better scram. Backpack full of books, you rushed out of the library, and quickly made your way through the dark hallway. You turned the corner and nearly collided with a small girl, who grabbed onto your arm to steady herself.

“I-I’m so sorry,” you said, and the girl looked up at you. Oh, perfect… “Minjeong, shit, I’m sorry…”

“Hosang, what are you doing here so late?” Minjeong asked.

“Uh, tutoring… You know my name?” you asked incredulously. She smoothed out your sleeve, folded the collar of your shirt down, and tucked her hair behind her ear.

“You know mine, too,” she quipped and giggled before running to catch up with her dance team friends, leaving you without room to explain yourself. To explain that no, I promise it isn’t weird, everyone knows your name, Minjeong, I’m not a crazy stalker, and I’m not here to spy on you through the gym windows while you dance. But you never got to explain yourself. To be fair, you did admire her from a distance. In the halls, at lunch, you wouldn’t deny that you looked at her with heart-shaped eyes. As pretty as you thought she was, you didn’t ever talk to her, something you would eventually regret.

Minjeong dropped out, and you didn’t run into her again. After graduation, you headed off to Seoul to learn how to fly, and soon, you realized someone else had come, too. Billboards, advertisements, you name it. For a solid month, wherever you looked, you saw her.

The same Kim Minjeong who you nearly sacked in the hallway that night, who, instead of yelling or being upset, straightened your clothes and wished you a good night; who knew your name when you were nobody. She was Winter, now, styled with gorgeous long, blonde hair, imposed over ethereal backgrounds and colors. You had to give it to whatever company she was running with, they made that old crush of yours flare right back up again with the way they marketed that girl. Financially stable enough under an air charter company flying small private jets, you decided you’d buy a set of the group’s albums when they debuted. Sitting on the floor of your apartment, pulling the photocards and posters out of those albums, you felt the full force of the regret from your school days: if you’d only talked to her in high school, you could have her number in your phone right this minute… But you were resigned now to being a fan, and a strongly biased one. That’s all you could be.

Charter piloting has benefits. Loads, surely. You’re essentially a glorified taxi driver, charging rich business people and celebrities $20k for a one hour flight from Incheon to Jeju. It’s morally wrong to allow a sucker to keep his money, right? As good as the pay, benefits, and overall experience are, the clientele… Well. Nothing you hate more than a stuck-up diva, and it’s even worse when you’re trapped in a flying metal tube with them. But you make do; the idol sightings you get on the job make all the asshole corporates worth it. From old school stars your parents might know, to drama actors and actresses, to the newest generation of idols, you welcomed a ton of each aboard, more than you could ever remember if you didn’t write it down. Unforgettable guests come along now and then; a trio of Twice members one weekend, some big-name producers behind insurmountably popular groups for a surfing trip, and the casts of award-winning shows on celebratory benders. Unforgettable loses its meaning when your secretary hands you today’s clipboard.

“This is mine? Thought it was… Uh…” you trail off and your eyes widen. The secretary laughs behind the desk.

“I knew it! You’re her fan, right? You always talk about Aespa. And I know you have her photocard in your wallet,” she winks at you as your face fills with an embarrassingly deep blush.

“It’s not just that, Jihye. I knew her in high school,” you say hesitantly.

“Oh my God, it’s like a reunion!” the girl squeals. “Wait, were you cool in high school?” she laughs.

“Uh… I don’t-”

“Yup, I knew it,” she says matter-of-factly. “Let me guess, the lame, nerdy guy had a crush on the cool-chick future idol?”

“No! Well, I don’t know,” you say. Your mind is too busy racing to think properly. The young secretary giggles to herself as you walk to the hangar. Preflight routines are difficult to complete when your mind’s racing faster than a Blackbird. Would she recognize you? Should you say something? Nah… You’re kicking tires pretending to be busy and the door opens. The trail end of a conversation…

“-ng is going to be your pilot. He’s a great aviator and an even better tour guide, so I’m sure he’ll be happy to show you around the island,” Jihye says. That damn secretary.

“Hosang? I feel like I’ve known someone with- oh, hi,” Minjeong stops abruptly when Jihye walks her around the aircraft to meet you. Long, wavy, dark hair, with bangs curled and blown out to mathematical perfection. Fair, unlined skin of a small and cute face. A simple and comfortable black sweater, a modest manicure, and plain, natural eye makeup. You bow shyly and wave.

“All good to go?” Jihye asks with the most annoying smile in the world.

“Yep,” you answer. Jihye departs and you welcome Minjeong to get comfortable while you finish up. A strange look occupies those perfect features as you give her a quick safety brief, then turn to enter the cockpit. Before the door closes behind you, “if you need anything, let me know.”

Why are you cold with her? Why are you nervous? You hardly smiled at her or asked what she was traveling for… Pure white clouds roll calmly underneath you. You resolve to be nice to her, even if she doesn’t recognize you, because let’s be real, it’s not her fault for not recognizing you. She meets tons of people. You’re just some not-cool kid from high school who had a crush on the cool-chick future idol. A pilot report over the radio snaps you out of it as you enter Jeju International’s airspace. Gusting winds and vertical movement, it’ll be a bumpy ride down. You reach for the intercom.

“Hey Minjeong, forgive me if I startled you. Looking at some rough air on the way down, but we’re about 20 minutes out. I’d sit down and belt in if you aren’t already, okay? Call if there’s any issues, and think of what you’d like for dinner.” You toggle off the intercom and wonder where the hell that came from. What, Jihye said you’d be happy to show Minjeong around the island, right? So you’ll show her. Your inner autopilot (funny…) takes over and you idly nudge the yoke for your approach phases. Wheels on the ground, hangar door shut, you stand and exit the cockpit. Minjeong looks up at you sleepily, and you sit across from her on one of the bench-style seats.

“So… dinner ideas?” you ask. Minjeong stands up and points at you groggily, shuffling towards you until her finger pokes the center of your chest.

“You. You went to my school, didn’t you?” she says, tiredness dripping from her voice. You nod and meet her eyes. “How come you didn’t say anything?”

“I didn’t think you’d recognize me…” you say softly, honestly. She moves her hand to your shoulder.

“Well you’re bigger, yeah, but… I recognize you. Bigger and taller. Same face,” she says. The smile can’t be kept off your face, unfortunately, and Minjeong smiles too.

“You sound really tired. Let’s get going,” you say. After a quick post-flight and signing off with the hangar staff, you face her and say: “Gonna change really quick, then we’ll head to dinner.” You slip into the FBO restroom and drop your duffel, then slip out of your annoyingly stiff white uniform shirt. You stare at yourself in the mirror for a moment, then pull on a plain black t-shirt before swapping your slacks for black jeans. One careful ruffle of the hair later, and you’re leaving the restroom to meet Minjeong in the hallway.

“Alright, ready.” You carry Minjeong’s luggage and she trails behind you, much like a puppy, on the way to the parking lot. The modest rent car’s parked right where the staff told you, so you open the door for Minjeong and she shoots you a confused smirk. You smile back, and hop into the driver’s seat.

“So what’s the occasion? Family in Jeju?” you ask.

“Honestly, I… When I get time off, I run a secret travel blog… So I take vacations, and take pictures and stuff,” she says quietly. “I dunno, it’s kind of silly.”

“How come it’s silly? Sounds fun to me. We’ll have to go to some really cool places so you can write a good post, huh?” you reply. “Now, dinner?”

“Mm. I’m too tired to think,” she mumbles. Great, now the pressure’s on you to pick something perfect…

“How about Black Pork Street? Could make for some good photos, and it’s really as good as people say it is,” you say and put the car in gear.

“Sounds good…” she trails off. Really, really sleepy. But she makes an effort to talk to you. She makes an effort to keep the focus off of herself, and more on you; she asks you how graduation was, since she didn’t go, and you really had to reach deep into your memory for that one. She asks you about flying, about why you chose it, about your life in Seoul, and about how you never ran into each other in the city. You hold yourself back from saying ‘well no, Minjeong, we haven’t run into each other in a city of 10 million people, with about 9,999,999 of those people being more interesting than me.’ When you arrive, Minjeong is lively and excited, telling you about her camera and asking what’s next after dinner. You kick yourself when you start wishing for a specific sort of dessert. Quit being dirty-minded, idiot…

“Let’s go! I’m hungry,” Minjeong says, dragging you out of your thoughts. She looks perfect taking photos on the street, pointing her camera at the sky, at signs, storefronts, plants, street cats. The way her eyes light up when she takes a good photo, runs over to show you, insists that you take a few of her; she’s not much different than she was back then, huh? A person with a good heart. A person whose heart you’d like to learn.

“Is it our honeymoon? First date? Must be a first date, you look nervous,” the dorky waiter says, nodding to you. Minjeong laughs, and you blush; the difference between you.

“Uh… J-just high school friends,” you manage to say. Minjeong jots notes and snaps photos throughout the meal, and as you’re serving up some pork belly for her, she takes a few photos.

“C’mon, make it look nice,” she whines.

“You’re serious about this, huh?” you laugh.

“It’s… It’s my baby. My project. My travel blog is like… I dunno, it’s a way for me to be creative, but not be Winter. It’s a way to just be Minjeong,” she slowly explains. “To have a space that’s all my own. Where I can talk about stuff I like, and not worry about press, or netizens, or fans, or anti-fans.”

“I get it. A space of your own. I should call you Minjeong then, right?” you say, nodding your head a bit too fast and a bit too much. She smiles and nods. But she nods like a regular person, not like you.

Dinner passes without incident. If we can ignore the waiter thing. Do you look like a couple or something? Maybe you do compliment each other. Maybe you seem like high school sweethearts. Maybe you could be.

“Hosang?” she says as she leans forward. “You in there? Let’s go to the hotel!” You snap out of it for the second time and hop up to lead the way to the rent car. The paperwork Jihye gave you had most of the information listed for Minjeong’s trip, and the hotel she’d be staying in was, of course, the Lotte City Hotel. No less grandeur for the princess. The GPS gets you there quickly, and you pull up to the front doors, leaving the car on as you grab Minjeong’s suitcase. Just as you’re rounding the front of the car and waving goodnight, she makes a confused face.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” she whines. Minjeong the kid…

“Oh, uh, yeah. I was gonna head to the motel near the airport, that’s where my room is. Did you need something else?” you say.

God, why do I sound like a customer service bot? ‘Did you need something else?’ Seriously?

“I… I dunno, I guess I just wanted someone to hang out with,” she replies.

Oh. To hang out?

“Oh, of course, Minjeong. Let me park, I’ll meet you,” you say. And she’s waiting for you in the same spot once you return to the front door; she didn’t even go inside. Her long, dark hair’s ruffled by the wind. Cute.

NO. Not cute. Not cute or pretty or hot. She’s my client, my customer, my responsibility; not my crush, my girlfriend, or my next body. Look at the ground or something, for the love of God, Hosang.

But looking at the ground can’t keep her legs from your peripheral view. She walks through the sliding doors and you follow behind with her suitcase in your hand, and your duffel on your shoulder. Long, slender, perfect legs, and you’re looking right at them. You snap your gaze to the windows and pretend to be looking at the skyline through the windows while Minjeong checks in. After a moment, she turns to you and smiles.

“Do you have a swimsuit?” she asks. You shake your head. “There’s shops on the bottom floors, go and find one, okay? Meet me on the sixth floor. There’s a pool! The pictures are gonna be perfect!”

She shoves a room key into your hand and takes the bags from you. You’re left in the lobby, dumbfounded, wondering how you should navigate this. A bellhop whistles at you.

“First night with her? Sheesh,” the young man says. “Score!”

“Weird situation, man. Weird as hell,” you trail off as you walk away, still shaking your head, more so to yourself now. Okay, shops. Swimsuit. You begin to feel insecurity nagging at you. You’re lean, sure, but not perfect. Not as perfect as… Well, nevermind. Quickly, you make your way through the shops, and find a pair of rather plain, mid-length black trunks at a duty free shop, changing into them in the restroom and leaving your shirt on. The elevator ride lasts forever. And ever. And ever. Until the robotic voice announces,

Sixth floor.

The doors open and you walk quietly out to the open area of the pool. You see one figure in the water already. She’s facing the city, hugging the edge of the pool and gazing at the skyline. The water laps at her back, just below her shoulder blades, and the silky smooth skin of her back is laid out for you, with only thin bikini straps to cover it. Her arms and shoulders are small, toned, but soft. Fancams and jacket shoots could never do justice to the sculpted angel right in front of your face.

“How’s the temperature?” you say. She turns around. Her top is composed of white strings and back fabric; conservative, but form-fitting to her chest, that Goldilocks chest, the perfect balance of size and shape. Her collarbones are distinct, curved, beautiful. Hell, every curve you can see is perfect, from the angle of her jaw to the base of her neck to the gentle taper of her arms.

“It’s heated,” she giggles. “Come on!” Insecurity. Nagging. Loudly.

“Are you sure? I can just hang out and take pictures for you up here, it’s not-”

“Come onnn,” she pleads. You turn away from her and slowly drag your shirt off, then kick your shoes and socks off near where Minjeong left hers. The water is slightly warmer than room temperature, and a welcome change from the chilly air. You sit yourself down on a ledge in the pool, and Minjeong swims to your side, sitting right next to you. Not close enough to touch.

“See? Isn’t it nice up here?” she says.

“It is. Ever been to Jeju before?” you ask.

“Nope. I think it’s even nicer with a good tour guide.”

“Ah, come on. I’m not all that.”

“You’re…” she trails off and sighs. Her hair tickles your shoulder when she leans into you. “I wish I’d talked to you more back then.”

“Hmm? Don’t worry about it, that’s way past us,” you mumble.

“So… If I said I wanted to make up for lost time… What would you say?” she says and you feel her fingertips smoothly run over your leg under the water.

“I think I’d ask where that idea came from,” you say breathlessly. She moves her hand to your waist, arm around your front.

“I always liked you. I just didn’t think you liked me, you were always so quiet,” she says. Your hand, now, meets her waist, and your eyes meet hers.

“Is this okay? I mean… Can you do stuff like this? Now that you’re all famous and everything,” you say, struggling to form any words at all, overwhelmed by the electric sensations of skin on skin underwater. She cups your cheek with a wet hand and nods to the camera bag.

“Can I get some pictures for the blog? Before… Before I forget,” she finishes cautiously.

Before you forget, huh… Gonna make me take an impromptu bikini shoot of one of the most beautiful women ever. No big deal.

Minjeong disentangles from you; she tosses you a towel and you dry your hands, then power on the camera. Eyes fixed on the camera’s display screen, you start shooting. She moves through pose after pose, and you can feel yourself hardening. How could you not? A perfect, slim, pale Minjeong, body covered with water droplets, her skin shining in the flash of the camera.

“Would you check and see if those ones are any good?” she calls to you. You begin scrolling through the photos, and sure, they’re great. It would be hard to take a bad photo of her.

“Yeah, these are good,” you say.

“Let’s take a few more, then we can relax a bit,” she says. The camera display switches back to photo mode, and you look through; this time, your heart stops. The screen shows you that Minjeong has shed her top, and now, the camera focuses on her bare breasts, nipples erect in the cold air, water streaming down her chest. Her hourglass shape is all the more prominent now, and you wonder how it would feel to run your hands all over her wet body. You begin to lower the camera, but she shakes her head. “These are just for me. Please?”

“J-just for you?” you mumble, mostly to yourself. Her poses grow more erotic. She squeezes her breasts together with her arms, grabs them with her hands, and leans over for you to capture a shot of her from the side with her back arched. Now you’re definitely hard, no question about it, but at least now there’s no way she could be mad at you for it. It’s her fault. She moves towards you, and you set the camera on the ground next to the pool.

“How’d they turn out?” she asks. Her arms reach around the back of your neck, and yours wrap around her waist.

“You’re evil,” you say into her neck before planting a few kisses there.

“Oh, how could you say that? It seems like you had a good time,” she says. Her hips grind forward against your cock; she wants you to know that she knows how hard she’s gotten you. “You know, to be really honest, Hosang, you’re the first guy I ever thought about while touching myself.”

Really?

“Why?”

“You’re an idiot- Oh, God,” she’s interrupted by moans as you kiss further down her neck. “I just like you, okay?

“Well I just like you, too. Always did,” you say.

“I hope so. Otherwise this could be kind of awkward,” she giggles. You withdraw from her neck to place a kiss on her temple, and finally, on her lips. She tastes so sweet, lips so soft, tongue so aggressive. Her hand grabs onto your hair and she forces your head to turn so she can deepen the kiss. Minjeong seems hungry, desperate. You sit back on the ledge with your high school crush in your lap, her legs around your waist. She’s got both hands on your face, and she observes you like some sort of specimen.

“What’s, uh, what’s up?” you say, eyebrows raised.

“Your face… As different as it is, it almost looks exactly the same as the face I fell for back then. And I think I’m falling for it again,” she says. You begin to speak, but she places a finger over your lips. “I know what you’re gonna say. Just don’t think about it right now. Don’t. Think. About anything.”

Between her words, she’s taking your hands in hers, and moving them to her bare chest. You swallow. Hard. She’s right. If only for tonight, for this weekend, for a week, you have to just let it go. Her breasts are soft, and she whimpers when you squeeze them. She giggles and moans through a toothy smile when you roll her nipples between your fingers. Minjeong is clay in your hands, melting under every single touch, and it’s your job to make this trip unforgettable for her, to mold her into shapes of pleasure she’s never felt before.

“You know there’s a sauna,” she whispers through gasps.

“Good idea,” you reply. Water falls from both of your bodies when you stand up with her still wrapped around you, clinging to you like a koala bear to a tree. A quick jog from the pool to the sauna, but the wind still manages to chill you both to the bone. The sauna, though, is comfortably warm. Minjeong in your lap again, you sit on the wooden bench and she devours your neck. Her tongue and breath are hot against your skin and the steam begins to make you sweat already. She stands and takes hold of your hand, beckoning you to follow suit; you stand close to her and she looks up to meet your eyes. Small hands make their way to your waistband.

“Can I?” she asks softly. You help her slide the trunks down your legs, and your cock springs out, painfully hard, smacking your stomach. Her hand wraps around it immediately, and she moves in to kiss you again. She moves her tongue slowly against yours and her hand works your length all the while; her delicate fingers find the precum dripping from your tip and spread it generously. Delicately, she kneels; cautiously, she licks your cock from the base to the tip before latching onto the head and giving gentle suction. She looks up at you with her deep brown eyes and you place your hands on her head. You’re gentle with her. Your fingers make their way through her hair, and you keep your hips as still as you can, so as not to overwhelm her. You feel the back of her throat suddenly, and a moan escapes your mouth briefly, before you slap your hand over it. Minjeong backs off and strokes you with her hand.

“Don’t… I want to hear you,” she says. You feel your cock twitch, and you let out a sigh. A soft moan when her strokes speed up. “Good…”

“What if someone-”

“If someone hears? They’ll leave. Don’t worry,” she says. She gives you a few more seconds of suction, tongue massaging your head, then stands back up. You switch places with her, only now, she casually strips her bottoms off and sits on the wooden bench. Her toned thighs spread apart slowly while you stand back to take her all in.

After all these years, there she is; imagine telling high school Hosang what’s happening right now. Forget moaning her name while I jerk off… She’s right there.

Beads of sweat roll down your face and body. Minjeong, too; she’s covered in dewdrops of her own. Somehow you think they must look better on her than they do on you. A deep breath, and you step towards her. Her chest rises and falls rapidly under your hands when you give her pert breasts some more attention. You’re on your knees, now, watching her face contort and listening to her voice catch in her throat. If she never wore a bra again, you’d surely be happy. Kisses planted down her body, from her sternum down her stomach, halting at her hipline. You take a moment to stroke her thighs softly with your fingertips, and they shudder. More kisses for her legs, from her ankles up her calves to her inner thighs. Her sweat is salty and sweet. How will the rest of her taste? You look at her again.

"What do you like?" you ask.

"I… I don't know."

"When you touch yourself, how do you do it?"

"That's embarrassing…"

"When you're using your hands, imagining they're mine, what do you do?"

"..."

"Show me, so I can do it for you." Minjeong’s eyes are half-lidded, lust-laden. When you look down at her perfect, trimmed pussy, it’s dripping; your words got to her. She takes hold of your right wrist and places your hand on her stomach, thumb on her clit.

“Slowly,” she whispers. You oblige, and slowly make circles on her clit, spreading her wetness over the sensitive nub. Her next move brings your left hand to her mouth. She sucks on your two middle fingers, taking them deeply into her mouth. Wet enough now, she moves your hand, palm up, near her pussy, and nods. “Inside.” The walls of her pussy are so hot, so scorching hot, inch after inch engulfing your fingers. One curl of your fingers and she’s cursing, moaning, bucking her hips. Poor girl must be starving.

“Is that good for you, Minjeong?” you say. Your voice seems like it’s dropped an octave and slowed down about half a measure. It doesn’t matter; she can’t answer you, anyway. She’s busy stuttering out your name. Temptation gets the best of you and you move your thumb away. Minjeong whines, but it’s soon replaced by a near scream when your thumb is replaced by your tongue. As expected, she tastes incredible, some remnants of salt water from the pool, but overwhelmingly sweet underneath. She clenches around your fingers a bit.

“F- Oh my fucking-” Minjeong stutters. Her eyes roll back in her head. Her delicate fingers grip your hair, not so delicately. Rapid, shuddering breaths cause her toned stomach to rise and fall quickly, her arms and legs jerk, and the salty and sweet flavor floods your tongue. Unlatched from your hair, Minjeong’s hands grab your face and yank you up towards her face; as you stand, the tip of your cock grazes over her clit.

“Whoops,” she whispers. Her lips are warm and smooth when they lock onto yours. And you feel her hand creep down your abdomen. Your attempt to break the kiss is foiled with Minjeong’s arm around the back of your head, and her other hand moves up and down your shaft. She’s devious, smiling into the kiss as you fill her mouth with moans, tightly gripping your cock and twisting her hand with her up and down motions.

Kim Minjeong from high school is jerking me off. Kim Winter from Aespa is jerking me off.

It’s a mindfuck. She kneads the back of your neck and sucks on your tongue. You can’t fuck her in a public sauna… Can you?

“Minjeong…” you whisper against her cheek. She looks at you innocently. Like someone who isn’t driving you crazy.

“What?” she giggles.

“How about we go to your room? Could be bad if, you know, someone sees us,” you mumble.

“How about once here, and a few more times there?” she says with a wink. “It’s late, baby… No one will come up.”

‘Baby.’

Minjeong guides you towards her pussy with the hand that had never left your cock. Her legs rest on your shoulders, and you grip her pillowy soft thighs to brace yourself for impact, for entry. Her heat begins to swallow your length, quite easily due to how wet and aroused she is, and she makes the hottest noise she’s made the whole night. And now you’re hilted in Kim Minjeong in a hotel sauna with an unlocked door. Her nails scratch at your chest and shoulders frantically.

“God, so full…” she moans.

“You want me to fuck you now?” you put the sultry voice back on. She nods. “When you’re using your toys, imagining they’re me…”

“Please, Hosang, just fuck me,” she pleads. “However you want. However you need.” It’s all you need to hear, certainly. You pull out nearly all the way, and watch your cock disappear inside of her with a grunt. Your thumbs nearly touch as you wrap your hands around her small waist to pull her down around your shaft with every thrust. All inhibitions are gone, any restraints have been lifted; you’re slamming into her hard, and the both of you moan loudly enough for the reception desk to hear. Minjeong’s tight abs contract and relax under your hands, you look at her face to see her drooling with her eyes rolled back. Like, actually, really drooling.

“Fuck, babe… You’re really enjoying this, huh?” you say gruffly. You swipe your thumb over her chin and she leans down to suck on it instead. Lustful eyes meet your gaze and your thumb pops out of her lips.

“I’ve been waiting so long,” she says. A quick sigh to punctuate her sentence. “So many years…”

“Well-” you try to speak, but she clenches herself around you. “Fuck. I don’t think I can wait any longer than I already have-”

“Pull out baby,” she sighs. “I want to swallow you.”

Regretfully, you withdraw from Minjeong’s tight hole, but the steam keeps your cock rather warm while she kneels down. After a lick from the base to the tip, she takes you all the way into her throat. She takes your hands and places them on her head, looking up at you sinfully. With fistfuls of her dark hair, you pull back, and thrust in again. She gags and coughs, but she never gives up, and soon, you’re shooting rope after rope, nearly convulsing in pleasure. She strokes you into her open mouth, wringing every drop out of your spent cock. When she’s satisfied, she swallows and stands up to kiss your neck and chest.

“How about… How about we go to the room?” she says.

“You want me to stay with you tonight?” you ask. She laughs a bit. Her laugh is fluttering and adorable, a sharp contrast with the noises she was making moments earlier.

“Of course.”

After getting dressed and gathering Minjeong’s things, you head upstairs. In the elevator, you stand behind her; she grinds back onto your groin and brings your hands to her chest. Floors fly by and the number on the small screen goes up as you massage her chest and her delicate moans get you painfully hard once again. She rushes in front of you to the room, giving you another view of those creamy, toned legs, and you do your best to catch up. Once inside, she sits on the bed in front of you and waits. Her hands travel slowly from her hips to her knees, and even slower she parts them with her hands to reveal the glistening skin peeking out from her bikini. Her breath hitches when you step forward and gaze down at her.

“I showed you what to do last time,” Minjeong whispers. “I want to see what you’ll do on your own.”

“No pressure, right?” you joke, and she smiles. Her thighs are soft and malleable in your hands, and her neck softer under your lips. You untie the bikini top and cast it to the side, then kiss further and further down her neck. Kisses travel down her neck, over her collarbones, down to her sternum. There’s still salt from the pool on her skin, and you lick towards her nipple before giving it a bite. Minjeong jumps slightly and closes her fists in your hair. Your mouth works on one nipple and your hand kneads the other breast, perfectly sized for your hand. After switching sides once or twice, you kiss her stomach. Her hands move to your shoulders as you kneel on the floor in front of her.

Minjeong’s legs are wide open. You slide your fingers into the waistband of the swimsuit and slowly drag the bottoms down. More kisses travel from her knees across her inner thighs and up to her hip bones. She’s still dripping for you and you drag your tongue upwards over her pussy slowly to savor her. You spit on your fingers and slip them inside of her easily.

“Ohhh my God-” she whispers and bucks her hips. “Go faster…”

“Mm, so impatient, Minjeong,” you reply. Your tongue returns to her clit and makes smooth circles. She tenses around your fingers when you curl them back towards you, her moans growing louder, grip on your hair growing stronger. Taking her by surprise, you withdraw your fingers and stand up. While her hands work automatically on pulling your swim trunks down, you take a moment to just gaze at her. Her ruffled, semi-wet hair, strands sticking to her forehead and swaying wildly as she kisses up your thighs. Her flushed, glistening skin, cheeks inflating and deflating with the waves of pleasure coursing up your torso as your length disappears into her mouth again. Her pretty shoulders and arms. Her nose buried in your stomach.

Fuck.

“You’re really good at that,” you moan. With a yelp Minjeong is scooped up into your arms and tossed, more or less, onto the pristine hotel bed. She pats the bed beside her, and you get the message. You lie back and let her mount you. She guides your tip to her entrance, and once in line, she slams her hips down aggressively. You’re content to let her ride. Her body moves in mesmerizing ways as she grinds on you, seeking the best angle for your cock to rub against all the right places. Just as soon as you begin thrusting into her, your phone starts ringing.

“Dammit, sorry, Minjeong,” you curse and remove the girl from your lap. Fucking spam call? Really? With the phone silenced, you turn around to see her lying back on the pillows.

Like an animal, you crawl towards her; you feel like one at least, with the way your cock is throbbing. She pulls her legs up for you, and you guide your tip towards her dripping center. The warm feeling envelops you again and you sigh, eyes closed. Your hands find her waist and keep her torso still while you begin to drive into her. You almost can’t even hear her whines anymore, her voice punctuated by each thrust, curses and iterations of your name following every other sound.

“-nside me,” Minjeong’s voice fades in as your stupor breaks a bit. You lean forward and make a confused expression. “Cum inside me. I want to feel you fill me…”

And something about the way she says it just obliterates any second thoughts you may or may not have had. Her high, airy voice, begging for such an impure action, intensifies the warm, wet pleasure surrounding your cock. It only gets warmer and wetter as your cum dumps into Minjeong, deeper and deeper inside of her, coating your shaft, dribbling out onto the sheets. Your thrusts slow down, but your dick stays inside; you’re tired. You wrap your arms around her waist, and lie down gently on top of her with your face in her neck. She administers gentle scratches to your scalp.

“You came so much, Hosang,” she whispers. Her legs settle around your back.

“Drained all my energy,” you laugh weakly.

“You’re heavy. Can we switch?” she says. So you do; you roll onto your back. Your cock slips out in the meantime, and you both laugh about it. She fits in your arms like she was made for them.

For a long while you lie there. The cold air condition and the crisp sheets are a welcome contrast to your steaming hot skin and the panting, sweating furnace lying on top of you. Minjeong painstakingly brings her hand to your cheek and kisses the other with soft lips. A slow blink. A thought in your mind.

Is this what it feels like?

“What are you thinking about?” she asks. She knows.

“How do you feel about me?” you reply. Her expression is mixed.

“How do I feel… I feel like there’s a reason we ended up on this trip together,” she answers. Her body rises as you take a deep breath. “I mean I feel like something brought us together.”

“What do you want to do about it?” you ask.

“I want to find out why. There must be a reason this happened, you know?” she says. A small yawn. “Like… There must be something waiting at the end of a journey we can take together to find out. Or something.”

Together? A journey?

“Think it might be time for you to go to sleep,” you whisper. Her baby hairs stick to your face when you kiss her temple. The sheets are smooth and cool when you pull them up over Minjeong’s body and yours. She falls asleep quickly. You don’t. You’re thinking about IFR plans and what to say to her in the morning. Your fingers trace along the smooth skin of her hips and lower back for a while. The softness is comforting. And you fall asleep.

Is this part gonna go in the blog post?

#aespa fanfic #winter x male reader #aespa x reader #aespa x male reader #aespa smut #winter smut #girl group smut #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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upon-a-starry-night · 7 months ago

Text

Number Neighbors Pt.30

Natasha Romanoff x Fem! Reader

Natasha Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.3k

Summary: When you catch sight of the newest trend going around you know you’re all but bound to at least try it, it was harmless anyway. What could possibly stem from something so little?

----

The plane ride home gives you plenty of time to think. You use up half of the time trying to come up with what you’ll say to Nat if you ever see her again. So far all you’ve come up with is-

‘ Hey! guess what? I figured out it was you I was talking to the whole time- oh and also I’m in love with you!’ and you’re pretty sure that’s a bit too much to throw at her all at once.

So you use the other half of the time to sign the hundreds of petitions that people from all over the world have created to fight against your government's stupid decision. It’s a rare moment where people are coming together to agree on one unanimous decision and it’s kind of beautiful.

There’s been people protesting outside of courthouses and social media’s blowing up with reasons why the Avengers should be dropped of all their charges.

When your mom dropped you off at the airport you promised her you would tell her everything that’s been going on once you finished your business and she gave you a stern look that said ‘you better’ before ushering you to your gate.

After a lot of contemplation, you decided you would drop off your bags at your apartment and then head to the police station to file a report about your stalking. It had been peaceful being in your hometown but now that you were back home you didn’t want to spend every day living in fear of the people following you.

After that, you would head to Avengers Tower. You didn’t know if they’d believe you even with all the proof you’ve gathered but it was worth a shot. At worst, they’d kick you out. At best, they’d let you in to wait for Nat or send her some sort of coded message to tell her you were waiting for her.

You’re not sure if she’d come back just for that reason but if she at least knew you were waiting for her maybe the guilt would urge her to come back and at the very least, apologize in person.

You’re a little disoriented from the jet lag when you touch down, nearly falling asleep in the Taxi to your apartment when you jolt awake at the sound of people yelling and cars honking. Out the window, there’s a large crowd of people with signs heading in one direction and you’re thankful you’re not in it.

Your cab driver apologizes for the traffic delay, telling you that apparently there was some kind of big meeting going on at the courthouse and everyone was making a big fuss about it. You figure the news about the meeting must have dropped while you were on the plane and make a mental note to check for updates once you set your bags down.

Despite it still being around noon, exhaustion weighs heavy on your bones from the chaos of the last few days and you’re more than ready for a nap as you make your way to your apartment door. It’s only when you’re a few inches away that you stop in your tracks. The sound of voices coming from inside your apartment.

Your whole body lights up with fear as you try to make out their conversation. From what you can tell it’s two male voices and you can’t help but assume it’s the people who’ve been stalking you this past month. Their conversation is muffled but you can just make out a few of the words being said-

“Come on —---- Are you really going to —---------- at her own apartment?” Voice number 1 sounds a little exasperated and you hope you can use that to your advantage if they try to attack.

“I just want to talk to her —---” The second voice is deeper and sends a chill down your spine. What were you doing? You should be running away.

You attempt to make a silent getaway just as your next-door neighbor arrives and you plead to the gods she doesn’t acknowledge you but she’s always been more talkative than you’d sometimes like.

“Oh hey Y/n! Back from your trip?” She smiles at you as she unlocks her door and the voices inside your apartment still. Shit. Think fast, Y/n.

“Yeah but uh- I… think I forgot a bag in the taxi, would you mind watching this one for me real quick?” You all but shove your luggage at her and barely acknowledge her startled ‘Oh sure!’ before you’re booking it back out of the building.

Your heart is pounding and you’re not sure what to do about two grown men in your apartment but you know they heard you talk and you have to get away from them as soon as possible.

Your body’s on autopilot and before you know it you’re practically speed walking in the direction of the police station. At least now you could report them for breaking and entering and stalking. Maybe the police will take you more seriously then.

Halfway to the police station, you have the displeasure of noticing one of the Suv's from before is tailing you again. You don’t know if it’s the men from your apartment or someone else but your anxiety spikes when they speed up and you quickly turn down a random alley as they get closer.

Much to your surprise and relief, they drive past you like you aren’t even there and it leaves you wondering if maybe you really were being paranoid.

Still shaken up about the men who broke in, you decide it’s best if you still hurry to the police station so they have time to dust for fingerprints and maybe move you into witness protection. (you know that’s only an FBI thing but it makes you feel better to think about it).

Despite the threat of the SUV being gone, you’re still checking over your shoulder every few minutes to make sure no one is following you. It’s for that reason that you don’t even notice it when you bump into a large crowd of people.

You’re immediately uncomfortable, your PTSD with crowds snapping into effect and making you go rigid with anxiety. You can’t move your body as people shout and shove you in every direction. You must have accidentally stumbled into the crowd of protesters at the courthouse.

For a brief moment you think ‘at least it’ll be harder to track me in here’ but then someone steps on your foot and you flinch back, accidentally bumping into someone else who shoves you off of them in agitation. You turn to apologize but they’re already gone so you decide to try and focus on getting out.

You duck and weave through bodies but the occasional shoulder check has you feeling like you’re still stuck in the middle of the madness.

Finally, you think you’ve found the exit as you push through the sea of people and you lurch towards open air only to be grabbed back by a man in a black suit and sunglasses.

His grip is tight and you cry out in pain at the feeling when a voice yells at him above the rest of the crowd.

“Let her go!” The voice is commanding and whoever it is must be important because the mafia/agent-looking guy immediately lets you go. You rub your tender arm and wonder if it’s going to bruise when you notice the rowdy crowd has gone suspiciously quiet.

You wonder if they’re all just as intimidated by the voice as the guy in the suit was when you look up and make eye contact with your savior.

A pair of strikingly familiar green eyes stare back at you with surprise.

Pt.31

A/n: only a few more chapters left- how we feeling? ~ Starry

---Taglist--

@marvelwomen-simp @cd-4848 @wandanatlov3r @rebeltombraider @ctrlamira @fxckmiup @aliherreraaa @natsxwife @la-douler-ne-finite-jamais @romanoffsgal @moistblobfish @natashaswife4125 @elenimoris @how-to-disappearrr @screechcat @toouncreativeforausername @ordelixx @autorasexy @blacklightsposts @vmpnano @jono723 @sylencr @saraaahsstuff @autorasexy @gay4hotmilfs @tofu9162 @dyslexic-dreamer @graniairish @colettehope @kosmichs1 @nmhlver @natblidaclexa @skittlebum @dorabledewdroop @nothanksbye07 @mrsrushman @midastouch013 @thalia-is-not-ok @tessalah @annab3113 @officialnighttime @taliiiaasteria @bgwlsmahf25 @chibilauren @natashasgirlll @nmhlver @strange-night-owl @obsessedwjill @autorasexy

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thisgirlnamedblusy · 2 months ago

Note

Hello! I really love your work! Please rest if you need to!

Can you please do Donna x Reincarnated!Reader?

So apparently they were childhood friends (who crushes each other but never officially in relationship) but R died and Donna became the even more reclusive as she is. However, decades later a researcher from outside the village came to do some research and she has the same face as R, turns out it was R who got reincarnated. But R has no memories or whatsoever, but frequently got dejavus or dream about the Manor, dolls, and a faceless woman (who is ofc Donna). R feels very familiar with the house and take residence in the manor with Miranda's suggestion. And Donna tries to get closer to R, knowing it is R reincarnated and they were kinda yearning for each other a lot during the times they live tgt, but Donna being Donna, she's too shy and pessimistic with her "deformed" face (eventho Past!R said Donna's past scarred face when Donna was young is beautiful) and she eventually take off her veil and R still found her so beautiful and enamored all over again. Even more~

Also Angie can be the wingman for both of them~ until they both confessed to each other and got together then R remembers everything.

It can be angsty or hurt/comfort with lots of fluff :3

Yesss!!! Thank you for your words, and for your request!!! I hope you like it and sorry about the language mistakes!!! :)))))

I know who you were

Pairing: Donna Beneviento x Fem! Reincarnated! Reader

Warnings: Angst, Donna being Donna, fluff, happy ending, as always ;)

Word count: 9,039

Summary: Why? Why is everything in that house so familiar to you?

N/A: Sorry about the language mistakes!!! Requests are open!!! I'm waiting yours!!! I love you all!!! :))

Tanti auguri a te…

That innocent birthday song was overshadowed by a few claps, while someone, someone you weren't able to make out, blew out the candles on a cake. The number on them was 16, you'd have to remember that.

“Come on D… make a wish,” you said excitedly, happy for the joy of that person, that girl who had no face, who had no name.

“Oh… I…” the mysterious girl stammered, with a distorted voice, an impossible one to understand clearly. “Okay, I wish…”

“No, no, if you say it, it will never come true!” you shouted.

“She's right, Mistress…” another dark voice said, it seemed like a man's voice. “Try to say it mentally.”

“Could Angie also make a wish?” that broken, blurry, dark voice said. Angie, a name you should remember…

“Hey, stranger,” a male voice brought you out of that little nap. The car was no longer moving. You had reached your destination. “Wake up, we're here.”

“Ugh…” you protested, yawning, quickly taking out the notebook you always carried with you and writing down those details that seemed relevant:

16 years old

Angie

“Are you going to stay there all day?” the taxi driver insisted, in an unpleasant way, but with a tremor in his voice that revealed something different, an unknown fear.

You frowned, picking up your backpack and getting out of the vehicle after paying the man, who seemed to sigh in relief.

“I see that kindness is not your thing,” you murmured, still sleepy. The man laughed, shaking his head.

“Not when a foreigner asks me to take her here,” he defended himself, counting the money you gave him. “Let me give you some advice…”

You nodded curiously, putting your backpack on your shoulders, checking that your phone had no signal, so you snorted.

“Don't let the wolves eat you…” the taxi driver said laughing, starting the car and disappearing down that snowy road.

“How funny, look how I laugh,” you said in a mocking tone, with a face of displeasure. “Anyway…”

After taking a look around, you finally saw the village, your destination. As you went down those dangerous hills, you took out the paper you had in your pocket, one that only had one name written on it: Miranda.

Your trip to Europe was not a coincidence, or something you wanted to do while you had finished college. No, it was something different. As a student of plants, of ecosystems, your intention was to investigate that place, one that your own parents recommended to you.

They were scientists. They dedicated their entire lives to the amazing field of biology. As a good daughter, you followed in their footsteps, trying to complete your doctorate with something new, something original. Your parents were the ones who told you about that place, that village where they worked years ago, with another scientist, the so-called Miranda.

Without thinking much, you headed to Romania, alone, willing to make them proud.

“Excuse me, miss,” you said kindly to a villager you crossed on the way. The woman looked at you suspiciously and stopped. “Do you know where Miranda lives?”

The woman opened her eyes and shook her head, walking away from you with a scared face.

“Oh, okay,” you said, crossing your arms, taking a look at that sinister place. Your eyes narrowed while in your head your thoughts seemed to find that place in one of your memories, in one of your dreams.

You may have been a scientist, but not even the most experienced doctor could tell you the meaning of those recurring dreams, strange dreams about houses, dolls, faceless girls...

You had been dreaming about those things for so long that you started your own research. Everything was always blurry. You would forget it after a few hours, so you decided to write it down. You didn't know if you could ever solve the mystery, but at least it wasn't always present in your mind.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice behind you, along with that slightly sinister atmosphere, made you jump in place.

Behind you was a woman, a strange woman dressed in priestess clothing, blonde, elegant, with a smug smile.

“Oh, yes, it's me,” you said nervously, embarrassed by your reaction. The blonde looked at you, without removing that smile from her pale face. “Are you Miranda?”

“Yes, I am,” she answered dryly, turning around and indicating for you to follow her.

“Your parents were very considerate in advising you to work with me,” the strange woman commented, serving you what seemed a cup of tea.

You nodded, staring at the priestess. You weren't expecting a young woman, or at least not that young.

“Yes, and, I, I appreciate your hospitality,” you said pleasantly, tilting your head. Miranda looked at you curiously and laughed softly, sending a shiver through your body.

“Anything for my old friends…” she said in a soft voice, sitting down at a desk. You shifted a nervously, something that the woman noticed. “Is there something wrong?”

“Oh, no, no, it's just that… I, I didn't expect you to be that young,” you said sincerely. She laughed again in a sinister way, shaking her head.

“I suppose it's understandable… The last time I saw you, you were just a crying baby,” she joked. You were surprised by that statement, feeling more and more uncomfortable. Was it a dream?

“Did you know me?�� you asked, surprised. As far as you knew, you had been born on the other side of the ocean. The priestess frowned, as if she knew she had said something she shouldn’t, something you didn’t know.

“Let’s leave formalities aside,” the blonde sighed, taking an old file from a shelf and placing it on the table. “The first thing is to find you a place to stay.”

“Yes, of course,” you said, nodding, looking at those old photographs of the village. One of them, an old house, guarded by a waterfall, caught your attention.

It wasn’t just the peculiarity of that place, its beauty. You had seen that house before, in your dreams. You were sure.

“Wait a moment,” you said, putting a hand on the page so she wouldn’t keep turning it. Miranda stopped, looking at you in silence while you took out your inseparable notebook.

A house with a waterfall, surrounded by forest.

A dark forest, a small clearing where there was a grave

A wooden bridge swinging over a cliff

All of those were notes from your dreams. You couldn't stop looking at that photograph. It was that house, that very house.

“Is something wrong?” Miranda asked, while you examined your notes. You looked up and shook your head, rubbing your forehead, which was already breaking out in nervous sweat.

“No... It's just that... That house,” you said, pointing at the photograph. Miranda frowned and approached it, looking at you confused.

“That house?” she asked curiously, her eyes staring into yours.

“Yeah, I've seen it before, I'm, I'm sure,” you murmured, confused, thinking that maybe you were still asleep in that taxi.

“How can that be possible, (Y/N)? It's the first time you've come here,” Miranda said, with a suspicious but interested tone.

“I know but… I, I've dreamed about that house, I'm completely sure,” you said, placing your finger on the photograph, sighing and shaking at that coincidence.

“Dreamed,” the priestess said, with apparent disinterest.

“Yes, I… Tell me, is there a wooden bridge to get there? An elevator?” you asked, without thinking very well about what you were saying. They always told you that those dreams weren't important. Your PhD could be in danger if Miranda considered you a disturbed person.

Her eyes closed slowly as she nodded, confirming your intuition.

“Tell me, (Y/N)…” she murmured, slowly getting up from the desk, not taking her gaze off yours. “Does the name Donna Beneviento sound familiar to you?”

You could barely hear it, but you tried to look for that name in your notebook, or one similar. No, it didn't ring a bell. You had never heard it before. It was a completely unknown name to you.

“No, it doesn't ring a bell,” you said, shaking your head and frowning, putting your notebook away again, trying not to get nervous.

“Mm,” the blonde murmured, sketching a brief fake smile, as if downplaying your words. “Well, I think I know where you're staying… Excuse me a moment, I have to make a call.”

You nodded, relaxing, still looking at that picture while the priestess picked up an old phone, dialing a number on it and waiting impatiently.

“Donna, dear…” the woman commented. You turned your head slightly to pay attention to that conversation. “Yes, yes… Listen to me… No, Donna, I said listen to me. I have a job for you… Oh, no, a simple one… A stranger has come at my request to do some research in the village… No, nothing like that… No, Donna, taci…” she murmured, looking at you, realizing that you were listening to her and rolling her eyes mockingly.

You looked away. Well, after all, you didn't need eyes to listen.

“The girl comes to investigate about plants, fauna, you know, those stuff…” she continued talking. “Simple, dear, she will stay with you. Yes, Donna, in your house… Oh, please, can you just speak up for yourself? That puppet of yours is giving me a headache.”

Puppet?

“Oh, much better…” Miranda sighed, relaxing her tone of voice. “No, Donna, I'm completely serious, the girl will stay with you and there is no discussion possible. Try to be nice, mm? Oh, and keep Angie out of it, at least for a while, I don't want the girl to run away, yet…”

Those words were like a switch for your nerves, making you tense. Angie, that name, Angie, you had heard it in dreams, you had written it down.

Miranda hung up the phone, bringing you out of your thoughts and approaching you again.

“Well, it seems you already have accommodation,” she said, joining her hands, with a slightly different attitude. “You will stay with Donna, one of the village Lords. Not all outsiders are so lucky, right?”

“Lord?” you asked curiously. Miranda laughed in a fake way, nodding.

“Relax, dear, I'm sure you'll get used to this place little by little. Oh, and one more thing… Donna isn't… Well, let's say she's not very well in the head so… Be careful with what you say, mm?”

“Not well in the head? Is she dangerous?” you asked, a bit scared.

“Oh, no, she’s not… Well, if you're careful, of course,” she joked disinterestedly. Your desire to leave the village increased by the moment. “She's a very peculiar woman, but I'm sure she'll be nice to you if you're nice to her.”

“Miranda… Who's Angie?” you asked again, acknowledging that, indeed, you were aware of that phone conversation.

“Mm, I suppose you'll find that out in time too,” she answered coldly, dryly, making a gesture to indicate you to get up from the chair. “Now go, I'm busy.”

“Okay, okay,” you whispered, getting up, frowning. “How do I get to that house?”

“I'm sure you'll know how to get there, (Y/N),” Miranda said, writing something on some papers, not paying attention to you.

Confused, you left that kind of laboratory, looking around for the way to that mansion, to the house that repeatedly appeared in your dreams.

“Oh, excuse me, sir,” you said, stopping a man who was pulling an old cart. “Would you be so kind as to tell me how to get to Donna Beneviento's house?”

The man opened his eyes wide, leaving the cart on the ground and shaking his head.

“Do you want to die, girl?” the villager growled, leaving you stuck in the snow. “Stupid outsiders...” he hissed before picking up the cart again, looking at you with a disgusted face.

“Okay, thanks,” you said, furious at that attitude, or rather, scared.

You walked through the village in confusion, not knowing where to go, not knowing which way to go. You decided to stop asking, since no villager seemed willing to help you.

“Oh…” you said, stopping at an old wooden door with a symbol engraved on it: a moon and a sun. Again, you reached for your notebook. You had seen it before, in your dreams, you had drawn it on one of the pages. “I, I guess it’s this way.”

Your nerves prevented you from remembering, from focusing your gaze on those trees that seemed familiar to you, on that wooden bridge that you heard creaking in the same way as in your dreams. You hadn’t been wrong, that was the way to the mansion.

As you crossed that bridge, a strange feeling invaded you, one that you hadn’t had for a long time. Two abandoned cabins were next to you, two cabins surrounded by stone angels that you approached automatically, putting a hand on them.

“You can’t get me, you can't get me...” a voice sang.

“What?” you asked confused, at the sight of a girl running through that place, a girl being chased by another one. The sensations, the voices and strange images were also part of your life, although never that intensely. “I think, I think I need a break...”

Walking a little further, you came to that clearing, one decorated with a grave that jutted out of a mound, the grave of a girl, Claudia Beneviento.

“Now she walks through the valley of death... How sinister,” you said, reading the inscription on that tombstone.

“I should have died instead of her...”

“Don't say that, you would have left me without you...”

Children's voices came back to torment you. They weren't visions, nor dreams. They were sensations, air currents that carried those voices to your mind, faceless, meaningless voices.

Finally, going up an archaic elevator, the mansion stood before you. It was the same waterfall, the same sound of running water, the same cool, damp breeze, the same smell of flowers. Everything was the same.

“Ahem,” you said, climbing the steps towards that house, meditating, making the decision to knock on the door instead of running away and never coming back. “Hello?”

The door suddenly opened before you knocked, making you step back. A woman appeared, dressed in black, with her face covered by a veil, Donna Beneviento, surely.

“Hello… I'm…” you said shyly, kindly extending your hand towards the woman, who seemed nervous, frozen, with her hands shaking.

“No… It can't be…” a hoarse voice whispered from behind that veil, taking several steps back. “You, you can't be here.”

The lady seemed very nervous, too much. Yes, you knew she wasn't mentally well, but that attitude didn't make any sense.

“Miranda told me I would stay with you for a while and…” you stammered. She shook her head profusely, breathing heavily. “Oh, hey, are you okay?”

“It's not true… This, this can't be true…” she muttered to herself, turning around and resting her hands on her head, moving on herself. “No, you're not here…”

“Well, yes, I am,” you said cautiously, getting a little closer to the lady, risking putting a hand on her shoulder, a hand she immediately pushed away with a furious growl. “You… You're Donna, aren't you?”

“What? You're asking me my name? How dare you show up at my house and…?” she stammered, pushing you away unpleasantly. “Non… Non è possibile…”

You stepped back a little, looking at the door, seriously considering turning back. But it wasn’t fear or that woman’s erratic attitude anymore, something else was pushing you to stay, a heavy feeling that fell on your shoulders.

“Oh, Italian… Okay…” you murmured, remembering Miranda’s advice: be nice. “Um.. Io… Sono… Sono…”

“Stop pretending!” she squealed, nervous, pointing at you with her finger “You know Italian perfectly.”

“What? No… Of course I don’t…” you said confused, frowning and putting your hands in a surrender position.

“Of course you do, I… I was the one who…” she hissed, sighing nervously, controlling her breathing. “You… You are…”

“(Y/N),” you said with more courage, extending your hand again towards her, who seemed to stop when she heard your name. “Mi, Miranda has spoken to you, I’m the girl who…”

“(Y/N)? Is that your name?” she asked with a calmer tone, but with her hands shaking as she approached again. “Are you sure?”

You laughed confused, running a hand over your forehead as you nodded.

“Well, quite sure,” you joked, biting your lip, watching how that madness dissipated little by little.

“How old are you?” the lady in black asked, curious, uneasy, but at the same time, more serene.

The question surprised you, but you shrugged. After all, you were her guest.

“25,” you answered in a kind tone.

The lady in mourning sighed, letting her shoulders fall, shaking her head.

“25…” she repeated, in a whisper. “I see… No, it can't be…”

“Um, I…” you said, interrupting her senseless murmurs. “I, I don't want to be a bother, really. I can, I can find another place to stay and…”

“No,” she said dryly, with a brusque, sudden tone. “Mother Miranda has ordered me to take you in, and that's what I intend to do.”

“Mother Miranda?” you asked, frowning at that strange name, that curious nickname.

“Come,” the lady said, turning and going up the stairs, where, on the wall, a portrait of a woman seemed to be watching you.

It was a beautiful woman, wearing the same dress as Lady Beneviento, holding what looked like a sinister doll. A shiver ran down your spine again.

“How cool, it's really cool!”

“My dad gave it to me, it's called...”

“Here, (Y/N),” the woman in black interrupted that kind of feeling, those voices that echoed in your head, pointing to a small room, where you would surely stay.

“Oh, okay... Do I stay here?” you asked nervously, passing by her, smelling the lavender of her perfume, one that, strangely, also seemed familiar to you.

She nodded slightly, letting you pass without taking her hidden gaze off you, you could feel it.

“Th, thank you… Donna? Lady Beneviento?” you said with exaggerated kindness. A growl came from the black veil, as if the simple act of saying her name had been terribly offensive to her.

She didn't answer. She simply left the room, closing the door with a loud slam.

“Well, it could have been worse,” you sighed, letting yourself fall on the small bed.

You were too tired to start your research and, after everything that had happened, you decided to call it a day, lying down and closing your eyes.

“You're wrong... Nobody could ever, ever like me with... This, this face...” a young woman said, again, without a face, without a clear voice, sitting next to you in a vague place.

“Nonsense, you are... You are beautiful, D…” you said, convinced of something you couldn't see.

“No, I'm not,” the teenager said, with a voice that was increasingly dark and distorted.

“I, I like you...” you said shyly, looking at your legs, dressed in a strange dress, full of patterns of colors that you had never seen before.

“Do... Do you like me?” the young woman asked, with a distant voice, just as vague.

You nodded, with the familiar burning sensation of blushing on your cheeks.

“I like you too…” that dark voice said, that blurry figure, leaning closer to you. “Even though… Even though we are friends, I… I wanted, I wanted to tell you that…”

Suddenly you opened your eyes, waking up from a dream like any other, of conversations with a faceless woman, with an unknown girl, a conversation too lucid, too concrete.

“Uff…” you sighed, sweating in bed, shaking your head and looking for your notebook, although you had nothing to write on it. “When I get home, I'll have to see a doctor…”

Tired, needing to freshen up, you left the room in search of the bathroom, peeking through the door, checking that there were no sinister ladies nearby.

The house was completely dark and, not wanting to disturb your hostess's rest, you took out your useless phone, turning on the flashlight to guide you around that place.

“Much better…” you sighed when you refreshed yourself in the sink, with that inaudible voice, with that feeling from your dream still very present in your thoughts. You turned off the tap, or well, you tried to, it seemed that the sink had no intention of obeying you.

As if you had a silent revelation, you pulled the handle, moving it gently until the water stopped coming out. It was like… Like you suddenly knew you had to do this, like you'd done it before.

You stood there, stunned, looking at yourself in the mirror.

“There's a trick, you have to pull it a bit, otherwise it won’t close… My parents say that one day they will fix it…”

Again that strange voice passed through your mind, forcing you to put your hands on your temples, which were throbbing intensely, threatening another one of your horrible migraines, migraines that you had since you were very young.

“Not now…” you said in a whisper, knowing that you hadn't brought your medications, that you didn't consider them a priority. “Shit, does this crazy woman have some ibuprofen?” you asked, walking towards the stairs, going down them slowly.

The portrait caught your attention again, that stoic beauty, that sinister puppet…

“Hello? Lady Beneviento?” you asked in the darkness, illuminating the mansion with your phone, getting no answer. “I'll have to look on my own… I'm a researcher, right?” you joked to yourself, passing through the door that seemed to lead to a dining room, one that, somehow, you found familiar.

The musty smell, the furniture, that feeling of loneliness you had already felt. You didn't have to pay attention to the obstacles, you dodged them without wanting to, knowing where they were. You didn't give it any importance, your head was already starting to hurt.

A creaking sound behind scared you, the sound of wood sinking under something, a small footstep. Nothing, everything seemed to be as usual. Everything? No. In a small corner, on top of a sofa that you thought was empty, there was something, something sinister that you recognized instantly, a doll, the same doll in the portrait.

You were born curious. Nothing could stop you from approaching it.

“What is this?” you asked, approaching the puppet, carefully picking it up and moving it in your arms. The sound of the wooden joints caused another horrible feeling of déjà vu. “A ventriloquist doll?”

You examined that doll with curiosity, moving it to look for something, something that would tell you why your heart had started beating fast.

“Why do I have the feeling that we have seen each other before?” you murmured, passing your hand over its broken face, destroyed by the arrangements that it had to have over time.

“Ha! Not at all, stupid! Get me off your filthy foreign hands, stupid, stupid!”

“Yiahhh!” you screamed, letting the puppet fall to the floor.

It couldn't be a dream, or a nightmare, or even your imagination. You had seen that doll move, you had heard it speak. You weren't crazy, you had heard it.

“Shit,” you said scared, stepping back, looking at the doll, which was now inert on the floor. “What the...?”

Fearful, you picked up your phone, pointing it again at the doll, which didn't seem to move. Relieved because you thought it had been a silly thing, you picked it up again, leaving it on the couch with a frown.

“Damn jet lag…” you lamented, passing a trembling hand over your forehead, sighing, watching that horrible doll.

But the doll was not the strangest thing of all. In a corner, on a nearby table, there was what looked like an old framed photograph, a black and white one, straight out of another era. Two girls appeared on it, one of them dark-haired, with hair as black as the night, with skin as pale as the Moon. On her face there was a scar that kept her right eye closed.

You didn't know who she was, you couldn't know, even though she looked suspiciously like the woman in the portrait, a few years younger, of course.

But that coincidence wasn't what made your body tremble again. Next to her, another girl smiled excitedly, holding a teddy bear. You had to look at her several times to make sure that, like that doll, it hadn't been some kind of hallucination due to the time change.

“No...” you sighed, picking up that photo, looking at that girl over and over again. “It can't be...”

You nervously picked up your phone, hurriedly browsing through the photo gallery until you found what you wanted, a photo of yourself when you were little, a photo of a girl identical to the one in that portrait.

“Amazing,” you said, comparing the two photos. There was a rather disturbing resemblance.

A sinister laugh distracted you from your astonishment. You searched everywhere, focused on the doll. Nothing.

Fearful and scared, you decided to go back to your room. Maybe in daylight you could clarify everything.

“Good, good morning,” you said in a timid voice, rubbing your eyes as you walked down to the dining room. The lady in black was already there, sitting at the table, quiet, as if she were a ghost, as if she wasn't even there.

Walking towards the table, you glanced at the doll, which seemed to still be in the same position. Donna's response to your kindness was a simple nod.

“Um... Can I... Can I have some coffee?” you asked timidly, pointing at an old coffee pot. “It looks great. It smells great.”

“You don't like coffee,” the lady said in a hoarse voice, with a soft tone that seemed a bit different from the day before. You frowned, sitting in front of her.

“Oh, well, no, not especially but... You know, college changed my mind,” you explained amused, pouring some liquid into a cup, not having noticed that information she provided, something she shouldn't, she couldn't know.

Donna sighed, playing with her spoon, not wanting to look at you, but at the same time, not being able to not do it.

“Mother Miranda says you’ve come to study plants,” she commented, after a tense moment of silence. You nodded, setting your cup down on the table.

“It’s for my PhD. My parents told me this place could be very interesting,” you explained in a calm voice, still keeping an eye on the doll on the couch.

“Your parents,” she said, completely ignoring your motivations.

“Yes…” you affirmed with a fake smile. “It, it seems that they knew Miranda for a long time. She worked with them in some kind of scientific corporation.”

“But you weren't born here,” she said, with a dark, intriguing voice, as if she knew the answer to her own questions. That made you remember things that you didn't like to talk about.

“No, I… I was born, I was born in… Well, I don't know exactly where I was born. I'm… I'm adopted,” you said, annoyed by that indiscretion. The lady in black nodded with disinterest.

“What happened to your biological parents?” the woman in black asked, sinking a dagger into your fragile feelings, starting to annoy you.

“I, I didn't know them, I…” you murmured with your hand shaking, with the sadness of your past starting to stir your heart. “I don't feel comfortable talking about this with a stranger.”

“Stranger…” she murmured, crossing her arms, as if she were mocking you. You couldn't know, the veil on her face hid her expressions. “You're in my house, you have to show some respect for me.”

“Respect?” you asked, arching your eyebrows. “You're the one who asks me personal things. In my country that's disrespectful.”

“Do you know what is disrespectful?” Donna asked, getting up from her chair and getting dangerously close to you. “Your existence.”

You stood there open-mouthed, not knowing how to respond to that offensive comment, closing your eyes, sighing and trying not to lose your nerves.

“Great, I like you too,” you joked, making the lady turn around abruptly, without saying anything, just breathing with difficulty.

The image of the night before, the image of that photograph you accidentally put in your backpack came back to your mind. It wasn't the best time, but, after all, you weren't doing much to stay in that house. You would have to get out of doubt.

“I'm sorry,” you apologized with a grunt. “I was rude.”

“Me too,” she said, apparently calmer, ignoring your comments.

“Okay…” you sighed in relief, slowly taking the photo frame out of your backpack, looking at it once more. “Hey, who is this girl?”

The lady froze when she saw you with the photo, snatching it from you with a strong tug of her hands.

“What are you doing with that?! This is mine!” she screamed furiously, kicking the floor and tightly clutching the photo to her chest. “It's mine!”

“I, I know, I took it by accident because…” you said nervously, trying to explain why you kept it, what you wanted to know.

“Don't touch my stuff!” Donna protested, upset, with a voice broken by rage and sudden sobs. “Don't touch her!”

“I'm, I'm sorry, but it's just that...” you said, approaching her trembling figure.

“Stupida! What have you come for?! To torture me?! Is it because I couldn't save you?!” she screamed deliriously, unhinged, totally out of her mind. You could run away, take advantage of her madness to escape but... You didn't.

“What are you talking about?” you asked, approaching slowly, trying to calm her down. “Donna, I...”

“Perché?! To lose you wasn't it enough? Haven't I suffered enough?” she stammered, sitting on the floor with her knees on her chest, burying her covered face between them. You, bent down, trying to grab her wrists.

“Please, calm down, please, I, I didn't mean to…” you said nervously, feeling sorry for that sick woman, unintentionally intoxicating yourself with that familiar lavender scent.

“Donna, Donna! Don't do that!” a third voice, which you didn't hear, approached you. “Don't pay attention to this fool. Donna, Donna, sing, sing with me…”

A soft song came out of that black veil, one that seemed to calm her under your watchful gaze. You were so nervous that you didn't notice there was someone else there.

“Fool, damn foolish outsider, you made my Donna cry!”

The voice spoke again, while the lady ran out, crying inconsolably.

“I didn't mean to make her suffer,” you said, standing up, brushing the dust off your pants. “I don't…”

You opened your eyes when you realized there was something strange, someone, something that shouldn't be there. You slowly turned your head, staring in astonishment at that doll, a doll that was no longer lying inert on the couch, but standing next to you.

“No…” you sighed, slowly moving away, your body paralyzed by fear. “Oh, no…”

“What are you looking at, you fool? Have you seen a ghost?” the doll said again, confirming that you hadn't imagined it. It was alive.

“How, how can you…? Oh, no, no, you can't be alive,” you stammered, suppressing the impulse to take out your phone and record that phenomenon.

“You're the one who can't be alive! Stupid outsider!” the doll shrieked, in an unpleasant, shrill tone, walking away from your petrified body. “If you mess with my Donna again, you'll pay dearly! Keep that in mind, Angie is always watching!”

“Angie?” you repeated, blinking in confusion. You had dreamed of that name.

Maybe some fresh air would do you good, and besides, you had to start your investigations.

During the day you walked around the village, looking for those places you saw in your dreams, leaving the plants aside, having a new objective: to know why that place was so familiar to you, what was happening in that cursed village.

The night came too soon and, without wanting it, you were already back in that mansion, next to that living doll and its disturbed owner. The atmosphere was still tense, but something had changed. In front of you, a plate of food that she had prepared for you was waiting.

“It's not poisoned, eat,” Donna whispered, with a voice broken by the crying of hours before, but with a slightly different serenity. You, distrustful but hungry, obeyed.

“Mmm, it has a lot of oregano,” you commented with a false smile. “I always liked tomatoes with a lot of oregano, how did you know?”

The lady shrugged, as if she didn't feel like talking.

It was true that she looked dangerous, that her problems could cause you to have them, but, above all, you had something in mind, you wanted to know why the girl in the photo looked so much like you, why, for so many years, you had dreamed of that place, that house.

“Well…”you stammered, breaking the silence again. “I, I'd like to know something else about… Angie,” you said, afraid of her reaction, looking at the doll, which seemed to be entertaining itself with some balls of wool.

“Angie,” Donna repeated.

“Yes, I… Well, I've never seen a living doll,” you said amused, hiding your fear.

“I suppose you haven’t,” she said, coldly. “If you don't annoy her, she won't do anything to you.”

“Oh, okay…” you said, disappointed with the answer, continuing with that silent dinner, at least until your desire to know, to understand, came back to your head. “So… What do you do here?”

“I make dolls,” the lady answered with a disinterested whisper, leaving you speechless again.

“Wooow, there are a lot of dolls…”

“My father makes them, one day I will be like him”

“Will you make one for me?”

“As many as you want…”

Inopportune whispers echoed in your head, making you drink water, so those feelings would not worsen the tension of that dinner, the first of many others.

“Wow, that's... interesting,” you murmured, feigning interest. Donna didn't answer. She just stared at you through her veil. “I don't know many people who make porcelain dolls.”

That caught the lady's attention, tensing her body and breathing nervously again.

“I didn't say they were porcelain dolls,” she said in a cold, distrustful tone.

“Oh...” you said, regretting your boldness. Porcelain dolls, another entry in your notebook, a recurring vision in your dreams.

Everything was related, there was no doubt. The only thing you didn't understand was what Lady Beneviento had to do with it.

“You knew they are porcelain dolls,” she said again, taking you out of your thoughts, out of the memories of your dreams, memories full of dolls, of laughter, of faceless women.

“No, well, not really,” you said apologetically, pretending that your success had really been a coincidence. “I just said it randomly.”

“That's not true,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair, approaching you with the same dangerous, slow and threatening step. “You knew it, how?”

“I, I don't know,”-you stammered, blushing at your lie.

“No matter how much you deny it, I know it's you,” she whispered, bringing a hand to your cheek, one that made you stir, but not move away.

“I, I don't know what you're talking about,” you said nervously, turning your face away so those soft caresses would stop.

There was no more conversation. There was nothing else to clarify your confused thoughts.

The days passed slowly, your dreams became more and more unbearable, more intense, the voices that sounded in your subconscious revealed things you didn't know, words that you didn't understand. That figure, that blurred face of that woman refused to be revealed.

You had so many new notes in your notebook that there were no blank spaces left. But all that information didn't make sense. It was confusing, confusing names, distorted voices, imaginary scenarios inside or outside that mansion.

Your doctorate was the main loser. It was as if everything you had gone to do in that village blurred with time. That was the place of your dreams, of your visions, of all the sensations that remained latent in your feelings.

Donna didn't seem to want to overwhelm you with strange phrases, with stupid accusations like the first few days. Her attitude relaxed, she seemed more comfortable with you, although always absent, shy, distant and at the same time eager to get closer.

She was the only thing you didn't understand, but somehow, that voice, the softness that her hands seemed to have, that lavender scent... All of that started to confuse your feelings, to make you start to feel attracted to her, hopelessly.

“Hi, I’m back...” you sighed, carrying two shopping bags.

Of course, living in that huge mansion could be an order from Miranda, but that didn't mean you could live without giving anything in return. Shopping was a task that the lady in black assigned to you, thus freeing herself from having to face her anxieties, the discomfort she felt with people around.

“(Y/N),” she whispered, getting up from the sofa, stoic as always, nervous as never. Yes, her nerves seemed to get worse in your presence, but the softness of her character didn't show it. It was a contradiction.

Donna Beneviento was herself a contradiction, a very... attractive contradiction.

“I think I have everything…” you sighed, leaving the bags on a table. “But I'm afraid that fat guy doesn't make bills.”

She laughed shyly, approaching you and looking at the contents, puzzled by a bottle of wine.

“What is this?” she asked, taking the wine out of the bag, showing it to you. You shrugged.

“Oh, it's Mastrala wine,” you said passively.

Donna laughed again, shaking her head.

“I know what it is but… Why did you buy it?” she asked in a lower tone, getting a little closer to you, giving the bottle back to you.

“Oh, I hope you don't mind. The Duke had that bottle there, and… I don't know, I don't really like wine but I thought I could do something with it,” you said, placing that bottle on the table, one bottled that, since you saw it, caught your attention.

“Something?” the lady in black asked, her voice shaking and her hands playing erratically with each other.

“Yes, well, I was thinking of making something sweet, maybe…”

“Zabaione,” you said, but so did she. You two spoke at the same time, you said the same thing. It was a strange, tense moment, one that made you blink several times.

“Y-yes… Right, right…” you sighed confused, your head claiming your attention again. “Um… Well, I, I guess you like them…”

“Of course she likes them!” Angie interrupted, comically pushing Donna closer to you. “She makes them well, very well, don’t you Donna?”

“I, I guess so,” the lady in black murmured, kicking the doll, who laughed amusedly. You still hadn't gotten used to the puppet, but deep down, you liked it.

“Great, I'll make them right away,” you said, wanting to leave the room before the shadows of the unknown lurked again.

“Why don't you make them together? It could be funny,” the doll suggested, with a strange laugh

“Angie, no…” Donna said head down, with an embarrassed tone for the doll's increasingly less subtle impudence. It was as if Angie knew that something had started to grow between you two.

“Eh, it's true, why not?” you said, rubbing your hands. “But I warn you that I'm quite an expert. Since I was little I made them perfect.”

“Yes, that... That would be... Good,” the lady stammered, guiding you towards the kitchen.

As you entered that dark room, more memories, sensations that you lived in your dreams began to haunt you.

“Stop adding sugar or it will be too sweet”

“Just a little more…”

“(Y/N),” the hoarse voice of the lady in black blurred the voices in your head. “The sugar is in…”

You looked down, automatically opening the door of a cupboard, taking out the sugar packet, without really knowing how. How could you know it was there?

“Here,” you said in a small voice, a bit confused, more than usual. “Um… I'm going, I'm going to get the yolks.”

Cooking with the lady in black seemed like a good candidate to be your favorite hobby. Donna laughed while you talked about anything, about college experiences, about your travels… Everything seemed like a gift to her, like a sweet melody that calmed her spirit. Her soft laugh, her shy words and that sweet accent, also calmed yours.

“Perfect, I told you so,” you said, admiring the result with satisfaction. “I can't wait to try them.”

“You were always so impatient,” Donna whispered, wiping her hands with a rag, leaving you again with a loose wire, speaking to you in the past tense, as if she already knew you, as if she did one day.

“It's one of my flaws, yes,” you murmured in a less euphoric tone, helping her to clean up the kitchen. “What do we do with the egg whites?”

“The egg whites? Oh, well, maybe I could make a…”

“Meringue, I love meringue,” you interrupted, with an innocent smile. She nodded, sighing sadly. “My mother used to make it, but I constantly annoyed her, always…”

“You always stuck your finger on it,” Donna finished your sentence again. Once again, you couldn't deny the evidence. She knew too much.

“Y-Yes…” you affirmed, nodding slowly, with a cold sweat running down your forehead.

“You could never stay still, Olga,” she said, making you frown, blinking several times, thinking you had heard wrong.

“Olga?” you asked confused. You didn't remember that name in your notebook, or in your dreams. More problems, more unanswered questions.

Donna looked at you, but then pulled away, shaking her head.

“I'm sorry, I’ve made a mistake,” she said in a very low tone, one that was regretful and broken. “Take the sweets upstairs, I'll make some tea.”

“Okay, but…” you said, seeing how the lady seemed to tremble again, how one of her crises was about to ruin a wonderful afternoon. “Should I help you?”

“No,” she growled, clenching her fists tightly. “Go away.”

“Are you okay?” you asked, putting a hand on her back, one that she rejected, moving violently.

“Vai via!” she shrieked, making you, resigned, obey, taking the tray with the sweets and leaving the lady alone, beginning to sob.

You waited a while for her to go up again, with the annoying Angie dancing around you.

“Hey, Angie, who's Olga?” you asked, picking up the puppet from the floor, causing it to kick violently.

“Let me go, you rude girl!” she shrieked. “Have you never looked yourself in a mirror?”

You obeyed with a frown, knowing that you would never get an answer from that irreverent puppet. Luckily, Donna soon appeared.

The taste of those sweets along with the tea transported you to an unknown place, recognizing the mixture of the darkness of the house, the humidity, the steaming tea, those delicious sweets...

“Even though you're my friend, I... I, I want, I want to tell you that...”

“Come on, talk”

“I know it won't come true if I say it, but, but... My birthday wish has been... To give you, to give you a kiss...”

That image appeared in your head, the image of that strange dream, of that blurry woman who slowly approached you, placing her blurry lips on yours. You even brought your hand to your mouth, believing you had felt that kiss, you had noticed the softness of those unknown lips.

“(Y/N),” Donna, who had remained silent until that moment, spoke to you. The sensation of that kiss disappeared with her words. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you in the kitchen.”

“No, well, it's okay,” you said, trying one of those sweets, much less pleasant than that imaginary kiss. “We all make mistakes.”

“I haven't made a mistake,” she said in a more serious tone, with her cup of tea shaking in her hands. “Do you remember the photo you stole from me?”

“Oh, I didn't steal anything from you, I took it by accident and…” you said, getting scared by that cold attitude, one that she hadn't had with you for a long time.

“Taci, I'm talking,” she protested, nervous.

You nodded, eating slowly, bringing your cup to your lips so as not to say more nonsense.

“The, the girl was… She was…” she said, her voice breaking. “Olga, she was my best friend, the only one, in fact…” she explained, causing your heart to beat faster for no reason. “Let me ask you a question, (Y/N).”

“Mm,” you murmured, interested in that conversation, afraid to say why that girl, Olga, seemed so curious to you.

“I know you don't like to talk about it but… What is your first memory?” she asked in a mysterious, studious voice. You gulped down the tea, embarrassed by the answer.

“You're not the first one to ask me, the, the kids at school laughed at me when I answered,” you said amused, but nervous.

“I'm not going to laugh,” Donna said, with a serious tone, with one that said under that black veil, there was no smile. “Answer, per favore.”

“T, the truth is… It's not exactly a memory... It was more like a dream,” you said, lowering the tone of your voice, immersing yourself in your thoughts, in the dream that was the first, the first of hundreds of them.

She nodded for you to continue.

“Well, I dreamed that I was surrounded… I don't know, by some kind of black branches… I know it was cold, I remember the cold and… I, I don't know, suddenly my parents appeared and… I, I woke up… Or so I think.”

“Mm,” she murmured, calmly placing her cup of tea down. “Do you usually have those kinds of dreams?”

“Not exactly,” you said, with a serious tone, frowning, ready to reveal for the first time, your concerns, feeling strangely safe next to Donna, comfortable, even… Happy. “This, this will seem crazy to you but… I… I have been here before. I mean, before I arrived… I couldn’t explain why but I… I already knew this place, this house…”

“Did you know me?” she asked suddenly, not surprised by what you were saying, something that confused you even more.

“No, I'm sorry... I've never, ever dreamed about you,” you said, sure of your words.

“I've been dreaming about you for over 30 years,” she whispered in a sad tone. “Since I lost you.”

“30 years?” you asked confused, with a burning sensation in your chest, with all those unknown voices wandering through your mind, overwhelming you, making you tremble. “But, but that's impossible, I... I'm 25 and...”

The lady in black didn't answer, she simply moved her hand to the veil that covered her face, moving it away, letting it fall on the table. She was a beautiful woman, really beautiful, the woman in the portrait, the girl in the photograph. Dark hair, pale skin, one eye, the other hidden by a horrible scar.

You, absorbed by her beauty, by discovering the appearance of that woman for whom you were beginning to have feelings, stood still, studying her features.

“You are… You are beautiful,” you stammered, with a different feeling in your chest, with a deep, sonorous beat, a different one, not nervous, but excited. The voices fell silent, the thoughts of your dreams stopped appearing. In your mind, there was only Donna.

The lady in black, letting a tear slide down her cheek, shook her head.

“You still don't remember me,” she said, lowering her gaze, desperate not to make you understand what she wanted to say, that missing piece in the puzzle of your mind.

“No, I'm, I'm sorry… I don't know why I would have to remember you… I, I don't know what I'm doing here, I…” you said, overwhelmed by the situation, nervous, with an imminent anxiety attack. “Hey, Donna, I, I had a good time with you but, but, I think, I think it's better that I go before I lose my mind.”

“Don't go,” Donna whispered, getting up from the chair at the same time as you. “Don't go, please.”

“I, I don't know what's going on, why, why do I feel like I should be here and at the same time I shouldn't. I don't know why... I, I can't stand it anymore,” you said, shaking your head, with a crazy look, walking towards the entrance. A strong grip on your wrist prevented you from doing so.

“Even at the risk of losing you once again, I can't let you go without first... Without first fulfilling my wish again,” she sobbed, approaching you. You shook your head, crying too, too nervous.

“Your birthday wish,” you said without thinking, remembering that recurring dream, that kiss that a few moments ago you thought you felt on your lips. You went pale, with your eyes wide open, paralyzed.

The lady in black nodded, running her hand over your cheek, getting closer, closing her one eye before closing the distance between you, before kissing you slowly, with soft lips.

A shock went through your body. A tremor nullified the mobility of your muscles while your brain ran through all the images of your life, all your dreams, your dèjá vu. There were no longer blurred figures, incomplete sentences. The truth was revealed in your mind.

“Blow out the candles, Donna”

“Olga, do you think I'm beautiful?”

“I like you, Donna”

“I want us to be friends forever…”

“I have something to tell you”

“I liked kissing you, tell me you'll come back tomorrow”

“I'll come back tomorrow…”

The woman without a face, that blurred figure, was no longer one. Black hair, a scar, a melodic accent, a soft voice, a dazzling smile, the smell of lavender…

Donna, it was her, she was the mysterious woman, that woman of your dreams, that little girl who played with you, that young woman who kissed you that rainy afternoon, that afternoon after which, you couldn't remember, or dream anything.

Endless experiences, memories, clouded your thoughts while her lips kissed you, while that feeling of having done that before invaded you, telling you that it was true, that you were madly in love with her, with your best friend, that you kissed her, that she kissed you, that that afternoon you came home and everything went black.

Family, friends, a strange cult, the figure of Mother Miranda... Your whole life passed through your thoughts. But it wasn't yours, it couldn't be yours.

“Oh, Christine, look at that...”

“My God, it's a baby...”

“Where did it come from? Poor girl...”

“Look at that, it's the mold...”

“God, what does this mean?”

“I, I don't know, but, we can't leave her here...”

The voices of your adoptive parents were the last thing you heard before opening your eyes, before pulling away from that warm kiss. As if drugged, as if you were very far from that place, you brought your hands to the brunette's face, looking at it again and again, with the salty taste of your tears still on your lips. Donna, it was Donna, it was that girl you loved, the one you loved once, in another life.

“Donna… It's you…” you sighed, confused but sure of what you saw, of what you felt. That attraction for the lady in black disappeared under a sea of love, of feelings that had remained locked away for too long. “My God, Donna, I, I remember you.”

“Do you remember me?” she asked confused, letting herself be caressed by your trembling hands, getting closer, studying your lost gaze.

“I, I don't know why but… I… I…” you said nervously, smiling involuntarily, drawing her towards you to kiss her again. “I, I, I loved you, I loved you even without knowing you, I knew I loved you…”

“(Y/N)…” she sighed, shaking her head. “I could never tell you… You, you left before I could tell you how, how in love I was with you.”

“I… I died, right?” you asked, unable to stop caressing her, unable to stop smelling that lavender scent, her scent, the scent of the unknown love of your life.

“Yes, you… You, you fell off a cliff… And… I… I was left so alone…” she said, kissing you desperately.

Everything fit, even your irrational hatred of heights.

“I, I don't know how to understand this… I, I’m (Y/N). I’m, I'm not Olga…” you said nervously again, grabbing her sweaty hands, losing yourself in the softness of her skin. “I will never, never be.”

“So…” she whispered, moving away from your touch, sobbing heartbreakingly. “Even knowing, knowing who you really are… You, you will leave.”

“I don't know who I am, or who I was… I just, I just know that… That I love you. It’s the only thing I'm sure of right now.”

“Who loves me?” Donna asked abruptly, with her lips pressed together, with a fury shining in her eye.

“I love you,” you whispered, lowering your head, not wanting to think that you had been reincarnated, that you were never (Y/N), that you were a projection of a girl who died, who ceased to exist, and then came back.

“Who are you, (Y/N)?” she asked again, coming closer timidly, taking your hands, playing with them, hoping to hear an answer that wasn't a rejection.

“I, I guess if… If I want to know… I'll have to, I'll have to stay with you,” you whispered softly, pulling on her waist, kissing her again, wanting to feel those soft lips on yours again, and forever.

“Will you stay with me?” she asked, pulling away, crying just like you, confused, just like you, but in love... Just like you. “You, you don't know me. (Y/N) doesn't know me.”

“Of course I know you,” you said smiling. “You've been living in my dreams for a long time.”

#donna beneviento #donna beneviento x reader #re8 donna #re8 village #oneshot #requests

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angiesmagicspace · 1 year ago

Text

Test drive

Pairing: Woo young x fem reader

Genre: smut

Word count: 2k

Warnings: car sex, oral (male receiving), he is obsessed with your boobs, fingering, unprotected sex, slight voyeurism, cum play, slight possessives.

Summary: Wooyoung just got his driver's license, and he needs to make sure that the car he chose is perfect, so he tests it out with you.

Masterlist

Your request

Nights like these are the ones that you cherish the most. Spending time with your friends, especially when everyone gathers to celebrate someone's success, fills you with joy and energy. Tonight, you are having dinner in a restaurant that one of them opened not too long ago. Everyone is in a good mood, drinking, talking about God knows what, and having fun overall. You are also enjoying yourself, of course, it would've been better if your boyfriend Woooyoung was here with you, but he had some important business to take care of. But he promised that he would come and pick you up with his new car, which excited you even more. He got his driver's license not so long ago, sadly there wasn't much time for you and him to drive around. Also, he refused to show you which car he bought for himself and that was getting on your nerves. You weren't a big car girl, but you wanted to at least see his brand-new and shiny car.

Around 11 pm the dinner ended, you said goodbye to your friends and called Wooyoung to see if he was close to the restaurant. He was taking too long to pick up, so you just went to the restaurant's entrance, and there he was. Standing in all of his glory in a suit, which was your favorite look on him. “I didn't know that taxi drivers are this sexy nowadays, I think I would start using taxis more,” you said, hugging him, leaving small kisses on his jawline. “Well not every driver is this sexy and best believe that none of them would let you kiss them or touch you like this,” he said, squeezing your ass softly, kissing your forehead lightly. You both laughed as he took your hand to lead you to his car. “So you will finally let me see the car that everyone saw before me” You nagged him a bit, but in all honesty, he deserved it for keeping something so little a secret. “Keep nagging and I will drive you to the closest bus station and leave you there.” he barked back, maybe a little annoyed, but that was his fault, not yours. There were a lot of cars in the parking lot, so you couldn't even guess which one was his until he showed you. Suddenly, one of them lit up as someone opened it with the remote, it was a black chrome Mercedes. “This is your ride for tonight, my lovely lady.” he motioned to the car, as you stared at it in all its glory. “Oh my God, Wooyoung, it's so beautiful and so you, I'm so happy for you” You hugged him tightly, trying to show him how happy you were. “Come on, hop inside, so we can go home” he ushered you, opening the door for you. And there it was yet another beautiful surprise prepared by your loving boyfriend. “Wooyoung you are spoiling me too much, and I love you for it,” you said, taking the massive bouquet of roses from the seat. “Everything for my passenger princess,” he said, kissing your cheek.

You both went inside, but he didn't start it yet. You didn't question it too much until you noticed him staring you up and down. “Baby, you look so good in that dress, and home seems too far away considering the state I'm in right now” You gave him a puzzled look, not understanding what is he hinting at. “I'm so distracted by you, you are so distracting in that dress.” he rubbed your thighs, and that's when it hit you. “I just think about how good you look underneath that dress, and how amazing it would be if that dress was on the floor.” every word that left his mouth went right into your pussy. You were dripping at this point, and he didn't touch you properly. “Before we leave, I just want to touch you a bit.” he continued to rub your thigh, squeezing it here and there, grazing his fingers near your pussy, keeping you on your toes. “And this dress on you, oh baby, you are showing just enough to get me going.” you knew that he would like this dress in particular, especially since he bought you the same model in every color possible. “No need to worry we are parked, it's dark outside, and the windows are tinted, even if someone walked by I think you would like that wouldn't you,” he smirked. Probably sensing that you were a bit nervous since you were in public. “Let me kiss your neck a little bit,” he moved your hair behind your ear, slowly leaving tiny wet kisses on your neck. Sucking on your sweet spot, probably leaving yet another hickey for you to try to cover up tomorrow morning. Slowly he went up with his kisses until he reached your lips. You parted your lips, letting his tongue fight with yours. Suddenly you felt his hands move up from your thighs up to your tits, passionately massaging them, squeezing your nipples in between his fingers. “Oh God, your tits feel amazing through your dress, they are just the perfect size for my hands,” he whispered in between the kisses, letting you catch your breath but also wanting to hear your tiny moans. Ever since your first time together, he figured that your tits were your sensitive spot, and he made sure to give them attention every time you two had sex. He pulled down the straps of your dress, revealing your boobs in all of their glory. “Oh, someone decided to be naughty tonight and not wear a bra,” he squeezed your boobs together, peppering tiny kisses on them. “Were you trying to show everyone what's mine to see…kiss….suck,” he took one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking it, while he squeezed the other boob. Soft moans and whimpers left your mouth, this was too much, and your whole body was on fire. “Tell me princess do I not give you enough attention, so you need to show off to other men,” his focus was still on your boos, but he was dominating as always. Every word sent a shiver down your spine, it felt like you couldn't breathe from the sheer pleasure he was giving you. “No Woo,” every word came out of you as a whimper, “this is all for you, I'm all yours forever.” You knew that that was exactly what he wanted to hear, he kept sucking on your breasts even harder than before, kissing them, giving them all the attention they needed. His hands slowly wandered down your body, grabbing your hips, and giving them a light squeeze. “I need to feel how wet you are, princess. Can I?” he looked up at you, waiting for confirmation, and you just nodded, already too far gone to give any other response. His fingers touch you through your underwear, giving you the minimal amount of pleasure that you desperately craved. “Baby, you soaked your panties, it almost feels like I'm touching your bear pussy.” he comments, amazed by how turned on he got you. “Let's get in the backseat, we require more room for what comes next.” you shimmied yourself onto the backseat with Wooyoung right behind you.

You sat in between two seats and Wooyoung sat right beside you, grabbing you by the hair, so he could get better access to your lips. He started kissing you again while his fingers stroked over your clothed pussy. A satisfied hum left his lips as he felt how wet you are. He kept massaging your pussy, giving your clit special attention. “Oh honey, you are so wet. It makes me want to taste you right now.” all that dirty talk of his made your mind fuzzier than it already was. He pushed your panties to the side, gently rubbing your pussy up and down, spreading your wetness around. “Gosh, your pussy feels heavenly. If I could, I would spend every hour of every day between your beautiful legs.” he slowly pushed his finger inside of you, finally giving you some relief. The tip of his finger put pressure on your G-spot, which made you throw your head back and moan as loudly as humanly possible. He kept pushing his finger in and out of you, fastening his pace by the second. But to your disappointment that didn't last too long, as soon as he felt you clenching around his finger he pulled out. You pouted looking at him, practically begging him to give you the orgasm you desperately needed. “Aww, poor baby. You really thought you would cum after going out flaunting around what's mine.” he had his evil smirk on and that made you even more desperate. Every time he put on that devilish smirk, it meant that you are in for a long night. “Pull out my cock and show me what that mouth is good for.” you pulled down his pants, taking his massive dick out, giving it tiny kisses while you stroked it up and down. Soft whimpers left his mouth as you brought your lips up to his cock head. You gave the head a few kitten licks, staring up at Wooyoung before you took all of him inside your mouth. “Oh baby, your mouth feels amazing, taking all of me inside that tiny mouth.” he threw his head back, stroking your hair. Bobbing your head up and down, you made sure to take all of him every time. You felt him twitch inside your mouth, but you didn't stop, it wasn't for you to decide when to stop anyway. He grabbed you by your hair, pulling you off of his dick. “Kiss me.” he whimpered, which sounded more like begging, but you knew that it was you who begged, not him. You started making out again, and while you were focused on the kiss, he was focused on moving in front of you. Kneeling in front of you, he tapped the tip of his cock on your clit, making your body twitch. He slowly pushed his tip inside of you, feeling your tight walls around him. He slowly builds up his pace, as you start moaning inside his mouth. Lowering his hips a bit, he repositioned himself, so the tip of his dick would brush on your G-spot every time he thrust in. You pulled away from his mouth, chanting his name because you couldn't get any real words out. “Yes baby, shout my name, show everyone that you are mine.” his hands gripped your waist even tighter, so he could thrust even deeper and faster. His mouth found its way down to your nipples, sucking and biting them. All this pleasure made you extremely sensitive, and your pussy started squeezing Wooyoung even harder. You couldn't hold it for much longer, and he knew that. “I'm close too baby, just keep it in for a bit longer.” his pace became brutal, chasing his orgasm that wasn't far away. Soon enough, you felt him twitch between your tight walls. “Come on baby, cum with me.” ha panted, cumming inside you while you also came, squeezing him, milking his cum like it's your last. He lay on top of you, pushing his head in the crook of your neck, trying to calm down his breathing same as you. “Oh, honey, that was amazing.” he pulled out of you gently, so he wouldn't hurt you. He stared at your pussy as his cum started spilling out, but before he could get hard again, he pulled your panties up. “Keep everything inside, I need you ready for another round when we get home.”

#ateez #ateez au #ateezedit #ateez fanfic #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez icons #ateez imagines #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung x y/n #wooyoung fanfic #wooyoung x reader

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6rookie-writer0110 · 11 months ago

Text

Something like that

Matt Murdock x male reader

Request / Matt Murdock x male reader basically nightwing, and they have a little contest on whoever takes out the most bad guys gets the most kisses

You are out with your boyfriend patrolling the city. You and Matt are on the roof and you are looking down, so far some people just pass by.

“I have an idea,” Matt said.

“What is it?” You asked.

“What if we have a contest of who can beat up the most bad guys?” Matt asked.

“What is the prize?” You asked.

“A kiss,” Matt said.

“That’s cheesy” You laughed.

“But you like that I'm cheesy” Matt smiled.

“Yeah, I can't deny that you are cute and cheesy” You smiled.

You gave him a peck on the lips. You jumped off the roof then Matt starts to follow you. Matt managed to stop a robber that tried to rob a taxi driver then you stopped two bad guys that tries to rob a delivery person. You have gloves on and you use the electricity to stop the bad guys.

“So far, I stopped two bad guys” You smirked.

“It’s not over yet” Matt smiled.

You and Matt continued to fight more bad guys. You got a little faster because of your training.

“Looks like your training paid off,” Matt said.

“Yeah, Batman helped me out,” You said.

“Batman? That's a strange name” Matt said

“It's a long story, I will tell you another time. Do we keep going? I think we are at a tie” You said.

“Yeah, let's keep going,” You said.

You and Matt found a group that broke into the bank. You and Matt dodged the bullets and then Matt started to fight now you joined in. You jumped over his shoulders and punched the guy in the face.

“Show off,” Matt said.

“Don’t be mad about it. Plus, don't be mad when I win” You said.

“I doubt that,” Matt said.

You and Matt continued to fight the bad guys then left when the cops arrived. You and Matt did patrol the city together and fought some bad guys. It was getting late, you and Matt went home and he takes off his mask.

“Looks like I won, Y/n,” Matt said.

“No, I won,” You said.

You take off your mask. But you and Matt can't agree on who fought the most bad guys. But, he kissed you on the lips and he starts to smile.

“I won, Y/n. You just don't want to admit that” Matt said.

“It's the other way around, Matt,” You said.

Matt put his arms around you and he starts to kiss you. You and Matt are smiling, you keep kissing him back. Later, you help him clean the wounds on his left forearm. You and Matt started to become affectionate toward each other, you started kissing him on the couch and he has his arms around you.

#matt murdock imagine #matt murdock x y/n #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x male reader #x male reader #male!reader #male reader #daredevil imagine #daredevil x male reader #daredevil x reader

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second-axis-point · 1 year ago

Text

Here's the Whiskey fic that we’ve all been waiting for! Sorry it took so long.

Pairing: Agent Whiskey x Kingsman!Male!Reader

Warnings: A little bit of violence.

Content: Fighting, Smut, Riding

Good old Whiskey won the poll with like 60 votes. You guys seem to like him quite a bit. 😏 Anyway, this is the first time I’ve written a full fic for our favourite cowboy and I hope you guys enjoy it!

Finally Home

You were sitting in the pub alone. At least you thought you were before a few dickheads walked up behind you and saw how you were dressed. They assumed that you were some posh rich boy who was way out of his depth coming to the rough side of town. They thought that they could rob you pretty easy. Boy were they wrong.

“Oi, pretty boy.”

You heard one of the grunts say from behind you. You ignored it and took another swig of your beer. He slapped the back of your head so hard that your glasses flew off your face. You grunted and sat up slowly. You took a deep breath before picking your glasses back up off the bar. You turned in your stool to see three idiots with smug smiles on their faces.

“Can I help you?”

You asked calmly, irritating the grunts.

“Yeah, you can. Empty your pockets”

A switchblade was brandished in front of your face. You assumed that it was to intimidate you since these idiots didn’t have it in them to actually kill anyone.

“No.”

You replied. They all frowned and stepped closer. The bartender moved to shuffle into the back to call the police but you held up a hand to stop him.

“It’s alright. I’m sure we can settle this like gentlemen.”

You assured. He looked nervous but put the phone back down.

“We ain’t gonna ask you again. Empty your pockets. Now!”

You smiled at the grunts' attempt at intimidation. You slowly stood from your stool.

“And I’m not going to tell you again. No.”

You stood tall with proper posture like you were taught. You saw one of them adjust his footing to take a swing. You dodged easily and took a counter-shot at his gut, sending him to the floor immediately. The other two looked shocked before attacking at the same time. You took a step back and leaned to the side, avoiding one fist and taking the other to the side. You brushed it off and continued to taunt the lumbering idiots. One of them charged at you and you sidestepped and threw your fist right into the side of his skull, sending him sprawling to the floor as well.

Only one left standing. You grinned and put your hands behind your back, only stopping to listen to a voice in your ear.

“Stop playing with your food and go home already.”

Merlin came in through your ear piece. You chuckled, infuriating the last man standing.

“Sorry mate, looks like I gotta run.”

You move to walk out but he grabs your collar, as you expected. You let the guy rip your suit jacket off before ducking his punch and connecting your knuckles with his chin. He made a god awful grunting noise before falling straight on his back. You pick up your jacket off the floor and walk over to the bar. You finish your drink and leave extra money on the bar.

“For your trouble.”

You winked at the bartender before walking out the door. You had been instructed to take some time off for working your ass off for months on end. You booked a flight to America as soon as you got home. The flight was taking off the next morning. You shuffled around your flat to pack for your trip.

The next morning came quickly and you booked a cab to the airport. The plane trip went smoothly and you booked a taxi to the familiar address in Kentucky. You paid the driver and walked up to the door, suitcase rolling behind you. You knocked on the door and heard a familiar voice complaining from behind it.

“God damn it. Who the hell could-”

Jack’s complaining ceased after he saw you at the door.

“Hey sweetheart, you miss me?”

You asked with a grin. Jack pulled you in for a bone crushing hug.

“Hey sugar! I didn’t know you were in town. What brings you to Kentucky?”

He asked you.

“Well, I was given some time off and decided to come visit my favourite Statesman agent back in the states.”

You were pulled inside by your excited boyfriend. You set your stuff down in Jack’s room and was immediately pushed down onto the couch when you stepped out. He straddled your hips and gave you a wide smile.

“I don’t see you without a suit very often. Normal clothes suit you, darlin’.”

Jack grinned, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips.

“Although I know for a fact that you look better in your birthday suit.”

Jack pulled back and looked at you with lust-filled eyes. That didn’t take very long. You put your hands on his waist and he grinded down on you. You pressed your forehead against his chest with a groan. God, you missed him. You hadn’t had time to fly over to see him in almost four months. Your grip on his waist tightened as Jack continued to grind down on your lap. He leaned in to kiss down your neck, leaving small hickeys across your collarbone. He moved his hands under your t-shirt, moving his fingers across your chest and back.

“Why don’t we take this back to my bedroom, sugar?”

He whispers in your ear. You grin and wrap your arms around his waist before standing. He wraps his legs around your hips and continues his attack on your neck as you walk back to Jack’s bedroom. You lean down to press him into the mattress. He doesn’t let go, instead he flips the two of you over so he is now crawling on top of you. You shuffled further up the bed and Jack waited for you to get comfortable before letting his hands wander under your shirt once again. You grab him and pull him close for a deep kiss. When you pull back, Jack reaches down to pull your t-shirt over your head. He undresses the both of you and grins.

“Lube is in the drawer.”

Jack said and waited for you to grab it. You grabbed it and handed it to him. You watched in awe as Jack prepared to stretch himself out.

“Wait.”

You said. You took the lube back and slicked your fingers.

“Come here.”

You grinned. Jack’s eyes glossed over as he crawled up your body. He leaned down and kissed you deeply as you pushed a finger into him. Jack groaned as you thrusted in and out. You added another finger and he moaned low in his throat. Jack started to push against your fingers so you added a third. He moaned and pulled away from the kiss, pressing his face into your neck.

“Please. I’m ready.”

Jack begged. He whined as you pulled your fingers out. Jack moved back down and put the head of your aching cock into his mouth. He swirled his tongue and bobbed his head. You tossed your head back and let him do what he wanted. Jack pulled off and lined himself up. He slowly sunk down, inch by inch, until you bottomed out. He was sat in your lap with his hands on your chest. You scooted up the bed so you were sitting up and looking right at Jack’s red face. He started to slowly roll his hips, making you both groan. You put your hands on his waist and pulled him almost all the way off of your cock. You then slammed him back down, making him moan loudly.

Jack started to bounce in your lap at a languid pace, teasing you. You felt him clench around you every so often. You got sick of it after a minute. You tightened your grip on his waist and held him still. You started to mercilessly thrust up into him, hitting his prostate almost every time. Jack let out a long string of moans. Your name was being chanted like a prayer. You thrusted harder. Jack couldn’t speak anymore. He was in absolute heaven. His sentences became incomprehensible moans. After a moment, you felt Jack tense for a moment before long ropes of cum fell from his aching and neglected cock. Jack moaned loudly and clenched around you. It didn't take you much longer to feel your release building as well.

“Inside.”

Was all Jack had to say before you pushed deep into him and came. You leaned forward and pressed Jack into the bed. He wrapped his arms and legs around you as he felt you fill him up. He gave you time to come down. He whined quietly as you pulled out, spilling a bit onto the bed. You rolled off of him and laid beside him. Jack was still breathing heavily. He turned his head to look at you and had a big satisfied grin on his face.

“Did you enjoy yourself, sugar?”

Jack asked. You chucked and nodded your head.

“I did indeed.”

Jack shuffled closer and you pressed a kiss to the sweaty scar on his temple. Jack sighed happily and closed his eyes.

“Shouldn’t we shower?”

You asked. Jack shook his head and rested a hand on your chest. You stayed quiet and closed your eyes as well. You were so glad that you were given time off.

@kittymaniacz asked to be tagged

#agent whiskey #agent whiskey x male reader #agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #jack daniels x male reader #kingsman #kingsman the golden circle #male reader #x male reader #x reader #reader insert #male reader insert #i love pedro pascal #pedro pascal

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authorhjk1 · 2 years ago

Text

A night in Chengdu

Xiaoting X Male Reader

(You will know when to play the music)

You let out an annoyed groan as you see the weather forecast. Because of a heavy storm, your plane wasn't able to get far, and now you had to land in China.

Which isn't ideal for several reasons. You won't make it to your company on time, you have to try to solve the problem from somewhere else and you need to find a way to get out of here again.

Because it seems like the heavy storm will keep going during the whole night, you can't get further by plane. You ordered a taxi, so you can drive to the airport in Chengdu. The storm isn't supposed to be there. And from that airport, you can take off.

Once the cab arrives, you get in and give him the address. He looks at you weirdly, since it's a three hour drive. You don't know a lot of Mandarin, and it was hard enough to even order a cab. You are not in the mood for any more conversation.

You work on your laptop during the drive. Maybe it's possible for you to solve parts of the problem on the way. The rain keeps drumming onto the windows and onto the roof. In the far distance, the thunder echoes through the night.

After sending another email, you check your phone, seeing a text from Ahin.

You know immediately that she is drunk.

"I hate you."

Three simple words.

And a picture. You guess it's her apartment. The lights are dimmed. In the back, on the kitchen counter, you see several bottles of alcohol. Soju, wine, beer. But your main focus isn't her apartment. It's Ahin herself.

She has taken a picture of herself in her mirror.

Her gorgeous body is on display for you, as she is only wearing lingerie. It's black. Lacy. Almost see through. You see the hint of her nipples under the thin fabric.

The black straps connect her black thong to the thin, dark material that his covering her legs from her feet to her thighs.

You recognize her shoes. Heels from Ysl. The golden logo is used as heel, while the rest of her shoes are black. You mentioned them to her before, saying that you would like seeing Ahin in them.

You are equally surprised and happy.

Her black silk robe is not covering any of her front. It slipped off her left shoulder, while her right is covered by her blonde hair.

"I could have been yours tonight."

You sigh in frustration and disappointment equally, as you read her last text.

Now you would give everything to be home immediately. But you have to pull yourself together. Your world is only about work. Not about Ahin.

Although you feel like she is getting bigger and bigger in your life.

It's weird. The two of you haven't spent much time together. But you still really enjoy her company. Even when you are not inside of her. You shrugged it off as just being lonely previously. Now you feel like it might be something else.

If you weren't in a cab right now, your pants would already be at your ankles. But now you can just wait it out. Wait it out until you are alone. You hope you will find Ahin like this once you are back home.

The sounds around you get louder once more. It seems to rain even more now. You can see lighting in the far distance.

Checking the weather app on your laptop, you groan in anger.

The wind has shifted. The storm is now heading right for Chengdu.

You hate it. You hate it when you can't control something. In those moments, you sometimes wonder why you work so hard to make so much money. When you get sick, or the weather messes everything up. Other people. It's just annoying.

But what are you supposed to do now?

Try to find another airport?

The wind might shift again. And you don't wanna pay hundreds of dollars for a cab ride.

You quickly message one of your assistants to book you a hotel in Chengdu. Deciding to just wait it out, you go back to focusing on work.

Hours later, you finally arrive. After paying the driver, you enter the hotel and walk up the reception. Once you get your card, you head towards the elevator.

Suddenly, a group of women appear in front of you, and you almost collide with them. Barely able to keep your balance, you look after them. People.

You see them walking to what seems like a party in one of the huge rooms of the hotel.

The picture of Ahin flashes through your mind as you watch the women enter the room. They are all wearing dresses and high heels. Some of them are holding drinks already.

You have two options. Either sit alone in your room. Or try to pick up one of the women from the party.

Deciding on the latter, you get to your room quickly. You roll your suitcase towards one of the corners, barely glancing at the room, before you leave again.

Luckily, you were able to change after your dressing room escapades. You don't have pants on which are marked by Karina's juices anymore.

You fix your hair in the mirror of the elevator as you make your way downwards.

Once you arrive, you read the sign at the door. A birthday party.

Once you step inside, you realize that about 90% of the people present are women. Which will make your night a little easier. You scan the room, trying to figure out whom to approach first.

You almost stumble forward as something hits you in the back. Turning around, you see two women one is holding the other, who seems to be too drunk to stand alone. A diadem is placed on her messy hair. The birthday girl, you guess.

The woman next to her draws your attention to herself, though.

Her short pink dress hugs her body, while her brown hair flows down her back. The silver necklace highlights her collarbone beautifully. White gloves are hiding her slim hands.

An apologetic smile decorates her angel like face.

"I'm sorry, sir."

She bows and hurries to get her friend inside the room.

You follow her with your eyes, unable to get her face out of your mind, as you take in her body from behind.

When she is covered by the crowd, you walk over to the bar. It has been quite a long day, and you are getting tired.

Leaning against the bar, you check the alcohol on the shelve behind it. It seems like most of the women bought their own alcohol since almost none of the bottles are open.

The bartender looks a little bit bored, spending his time watching the gorgeous women dance through the room. The music is pretty loud for your taste, but you decide to stay.

You are about to order when a hand gently touches your arm. Recognizing the white glove, you look at the woman to your right.

"Hello again. I'm sorry about hitting you."

"It's fine."

You give her a reassuring smile.

"Let me buy a drink."

Now it's her turn to smile.

"No one has ever said that to me before."

You make her chuckle.

Turning towards the bartender, you order the best Bourbon you can see behind him. Glancing at the woman next to you, it seems like she doesn't know much about Bourbon. She is holding about thirty dollars worth of money in her hand.

After he put the glass of brown liquid down in front of you, he turns towards the woman.

"That would be 554,15 Yuan, miss Shen."

Her jaw drops, and you see her step from one foot onto the other.

You pretend not to notice as she glances at you, giving her an innocent look.

Surprisingly, she is able to hold in her emotions, although you see a hint of anger flicker in her eyes.

"Let me get my purse real quick."

She disappears in the crowd once more.

You can't suppress a laugh once she is out of sight. Taking out your wallet, you let four hundred dollars fall on the bar.

"For the glass and the rest of the bottle. You can keep the change if you play along."

The man nods, a happy smile on his face.

You guess he doesn't get tipped a hundred bucks often. But you don't have change.

When the pink dress is back, she eyes the bottle of Bourbon on the bar.

"Don't tell me...."

She looks at you. Her eyes wide in disbelief.

"I asked him."

You nod at the barkeeper while keeping eye contact with her.

"The bottle is around 2.7k."

It looks like her eyes almost fall out of her head.

"Two what?"

"Two thousand seven hundred seventy yuan, miss Shen."

The barkeeper answers her question politely, and you wink at him.

"I don't have so much money with me."

You see her panicking while searching her purse.

"It's okay, miss. I will just pay for myself. Thanks for the offer, though."

The disappointment is visible on her cute face. She just wanted to be nice.

"Miss Shen, is it?"

She looks up at you, taking a moment before nodding.

"You are friends with the birthday girl?"

"Yes, but I was actually on my way out. I'm flying home early tomorrow."

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from here. But I live in Korea."

Her disappointment and anger seem to have disappeared.

"How about this?"

She gives you a curious look.

"Since you aren't paying for my drink, let me but one for you."

You see her cheeks redden as she looks away. You are not entirely sure if it's because of embarrassment or shyness. But she looks adorable now.

"That feels kinda wrong. I should at least pay for my own drink."

"Please."

You gesture towards the shelve.

"I insist."

You see her thinking for a moment until she finally gives in.

"Alright, thank you."

She smiles at you warmly before turning towards the bartender.

"How much is the cheapest drink?"

You didn't expect her to be this considerate.

"What do you like to drink most?"

You ask before the man can answer.

"Red wine, but -"

"The best, please."

You don't let her finish, and a couple of moments later, a glass of red wine stands in front of her.

"How much is this?"

She whispers, pointing at the glass.

"207 Yuan, miss Shen."

"We'll take the bottle."

You put two hundred on the table.

"You can't do this."

The young woman holds your hand.

"It's fine."

"I can't let you spend so much money on me."

You shrug it off as the barkeeper places the bottle in front of her.

"Let's go."

You down your glass in one shot. The idea is worse than you expected. You feel like you just drank pure fire. Trying to hide your burning throat, you take the two bottles and turn around.

You don't wait for her as you start to walk towards the door.

A couple of moments later, you hear her heels on the floor, as she is trying to keep up with you.

"Where are we going?"

"You said that you were about to leave anyway."

She nods.

"Well, I didn't buy these bottles to drink them at the bar."

You see her confused face, and until you reach the elevator, you don't hear a response.

"Oh."

It seems like she got what you are saying.

"I don't even know you."

"(Y/n). I would shake your hand, but..."

You show her the bottles.

"Xiaoting. It's a pleasure."

She smiles and grabs the wine bottle, moving it up and down a little, as if she is shaking your hand.

"The pleasure is all mine."

You reassure her, as the two of you step into the elevator.

"Do you do this often?"

She looks down as she asks the question.

"Drink? Probably more than I should."

She chuckles.

"No. I mean, buying women drinks and inviting them to your room."

"You would be surprised."

"What do you mean?"

"I work a lot. I usually don't have time for stuff like this."

"I feel honoured."

Her sarcastic tone makes you smile.

Thirty minutes later, the forgotten bottles are standing on the table. Your chair is turned away from it, as Xiaoting is sitting in your lap. Her brown hair covers your faces as she pushes her tongue forward. Trying to get access to your mouth.

The two of you share a deep kiss, while one of your hands is placed on her beautifully shaped ass. When she leans away for air, you drown in her gorgeous eyes. The taste of the wine is now lingering on your lips, as Xiaoting leans down again, connecting her mouth with yours.

You found out a lot about her while the two of you were drinking, so you want to find out if she was telling the truth.

While your right hand is still holding her ass, your left one grabs the phone on your table.

Xiaoting breaks the kiss. A questioning look on her face.

"You said you are a dancer, right?"

She nods.

"I am."

"Dance for me."

A smile appears on her lips before she pecks yours one last time. Getting off your lap, Xiaoting takes a couple of steps back.

When you start the song, she takes only a second before she knows what it is. Girl's day's "Something."

She snaps her fingers with the beat before she starts dancing. When it says "drop it," she does just that. Kneeling on the floor, her eyes are on yours as she leans forward. Her hand sliding over the floor. You catch a glimpse of her tits before she is on all fours. Moving her butt to the music, her hair is partially covering her face. The brunette's gloves roam her body as she sways her hips to the rhythm of the song.

You have seen the original dance before, but Xiaoting seems to be improvising a little. The dance was suggestive before already, but she is adding a new layer to it now.

Instead of pulling her dress to the side and showing off her legs, Xiaoting slowly lowers herself on the floor.

She stays like this for a couple of moments. She seems to know exactly where you are looking at, as her hand glides over her butt slowly. Her glistening heels sparkle in the light, showing off her porcelain skin.

You wonder if she is as fragile as she looks, as her hand traces along her curves while she stands up again.

Her body seems to be made to hypnotize you, as Xiaoting dances in front of you.

Her hips sway from left to right as she moves to the rhythm.

While one of her hands is hovering over the hem of her dress, the other is touching her chin. The brunette bites onto one of her clothed fingers teasingly before slowly getting the white glove off with her teeth.

She throws it playfully at you before turning around. Lifting her hair up in a makeshift ponytail, Xiaoting shows off her beautiful back to you.

When she drops to her knees this time, she closes and opens her legs slowly. It makes her move up and down a little, making your eyes focus on her backside. Looking over her shoulder at you, she gives you a wink while her left hand roams her butt.

You feel yourself getting harder with every single movement, as Xiaoting slowly stands up again, showing off her curves.

Walking over to you, she puts her hands on your shoulders before sitting in your lap once more. She keeps moving to the music as she begins to grind herself on you.

Automatically, your hands grab the cheeks of her ass, as you don't want her to leave again. Xiaoting leans forward, pressing her chest into your face. You enjoy the feeling of her dress on your skin and her small breasts behind it.

After leaning back again, her left hand leaves your shoulder before touching her own collarbone. Her fingers follow its path until they reach her naked shoulder.

With her thumb, she slowly pushes the strap of her dress towards the edge of her shoulder. Her eyes are on yours, as you watch her.

Finally, the strap falls off her shoulder, hanging loosely around her arm. It is barely exposing more skin, as her dress only falls a little. You want to see more, but in that moment, the song is over.

You are barely able to hold yourself back, wanting to just rip the dress off her, but Xiaoting leans over, taking your phone. A second later, a new song plays. She whispers in your ear while her hand unbuttons your shirt.

"Thousands of people listen to our songs. But only you will hear my voice when I scream your name."

You think you heard the song before, but you are to engaged in the woman on your lap to really listen. Peppering the white skin on her neck with kisses, you make it hard for her to undo the last buttons. You feel her shudder a little as your hands squeeze her ass cheeks.

"More."

She sighs as you begin to mark her perfect skin. You don't know if she needs to appear in public soon or if she just doesn't care. Either way, you start to leave hickeys on Xiaoting's neck. You keep kneading her butt at the same time as she lets out a moan.

By the time the brunette finally reaches the button of your pants, you have already given her three large purple marks.

"You like me marking you?"

You whisper into her ear.

"Yes. I love it. I want everyone to see what a slut I am."

You kiss her right shoulder.

"What are you going to say when your members ask you?"

As she unzips your pants, you take the strap of her dress between your teeth, pulling it down her arm. Your hands still busy playing with her ass.

"I'm going to tell them the truth. That I'm a dirty whore for you."

Xiaoting sighs, as you bite her earlobe softly.

You didn't expect such lewd words to fall out of her mouth. But you can't say you hate it.

When the brunette finally freed your cock, she begins to stroke you. You take her dress into your mouth, right above her chest and pull it down, since your hands are still squeezing her ass cheeks. Once you expose her small tits, you dive in, kissing all of the skin that is in front of you.

Her slim fingers move along the length of your shaft in a slow rhythm. When you start to take one of her nipples into your mouth, her strokes become faster.

"Oh, yes."

Xiaoting sighs in pleasure as you make her feel better than she expected.

"How are you so good at this?"

You don't answer, still busy with sucking on her nipples.

Once you have covered both of them in spit, you lean back, enjoying the handjob you are getting. You see the lust in the brunette's eyes, as she feels your cock becoming as hard as possible.

"I need this inside of me."

She leans forward and gives you a kiss, as if she is trying to convince you to fuck her.

"Please. It has been so long."

You glance at the huge windows and pick her up in an instant. Her smile shows her excitement, as you carry her towards the window.

Pressing her against the cold surface, you capture her lips with yours once more. Xiaoting shivers as she feels the coldness of the glass against her naked back. The way you are holding her, turns her on even more as she hovers over your cock. The brunette imagines herself being dropped lower by you, getting impaled on your cock. She feels a small streak of her juices trickle down her thigh.

Once you have had enough of her lips for the time being, you put her down again. Still pressing her against the window, you whisper into her ear.

"Suck my cock."

Without hesitation Xiaoting drops onto her knees, taking your cock into her small hand. But then she turns around for a second, making sure no one is watching.

"Don't you want someone to see us?"

The brunette looks up at you, while you caress her cheek.

"Don't you want to show them how good you suck my dick?"

"Yes."

The word is almost a whisper, as Xiaoting trembles lightly, thinking someone might be watching. Your hand moves from her cheek to the back of her head. And while the two of you keep eye contact, you slowly push her onto your cock. Her lips part with ease, as she takes you inside, wrapping themselves around you tightly. Xiaoting's wet mouth feels like heaven, as you push into her further. The warmth around your cock almost makes you moan, as you make her take half of you inside.

When you let go of her head, Xiaoting retreats, until only your tip is in her mouth. Her tongue swirls around it, making you feel even better. You relish the feeling of her mouth, as she takes you inside of her again. This time, she takes a little more of you into her mouth, before retreating again. She repeats it again and again, making you finally let out a deep moan.

You feel her tongue glide underneath your shaft, as she takes you inside her mouth once more. Now deep enough, you feel yourself reaching her throat. Xiaoting looks up at you, as if she is asking for permission.

"Just take it, slut."

She hums on your cock in satisfaction, before finally taking you down her throat.

You have to look away, unable to watch as her throat tightens around you. The heat in your body starts to build and you don't want it to be over yet. You try to distract yourself by looking out the window. There are a couple of buildings, which are just as high as the hotel and you are sure, someone would be able to see what's going on in your room.

The thought of someone watching makes you want to take Xiaoting right here. Right here in front of everyone.

You hear her gag slightly, as she now takes all of your cock into her mouth. Her muscles tighten around you, trying to squeeze the life out of you. She feels incredibly tight like this.

"Xiaoting."

You are barely able to say her name.

"Get up if you wanna get fucked."

Her eyes widen in happiness, as she slowly gets off your cock. Once you have left the warmth of her mouth completely, she stands up. The two of you nose to nose.

Reaching downwards, you slip your hand beneath her dress. You are surprised by the lack of underwear, as you touch her labia. Xiaoting's breath hitches, as you feel her wetness.

"No underwear?"

"Just for you."

You chuckle, as you slip one finger inside of her. She leans against the glass, sighing in pleasure. Moving your finger, you watch her reactions.

"Please."

The brunette bucks her hips automatically in your direction.

"Fuck me. Show everyone what a slut I am."

You take a step forward, pressing her against the cold glass again. Her nipples are pressed against your lower chest, as you line yourself up with her pussy.

You kiss her deeply, as you enter her. Xiaoting moans into the kiss as she feels herself getting filled. It takes a while for her to adjust to your length, but after a couple of moments, you are finally to the hilt inside of her.

Retreating, you move your hips, before you push into her again.

"Fuck. So big."

The brunette moans, as you slowly start to fuck her. Your strokes are deep and slow. While you pound her into the glass, you kiss the skin on her neck again. The hickeys you left earlier are still marking her porcelain skin and you decide to add one more.

Xiaoting's hands move to the back of your head as she is trying to push you deeper.

"Faster please."

You don't respond, wanting to hear her beg. The brunette tightens her muscles around you, trying to make you go faster.

"Please."

Her needy whine is music to your ears.

"Make me your slut. Fuck me faster."

You leave her neck and you see the disappointment in her eyes, as you move out of her. But Xiaoting has no time to complain, as you spin her around, pressing her body against the glass again. When you enter her this time, you feel like she is even tighter than before.

"Yes. Show everyone who I am."

You take her hips as you thrust into her.

"And who are you?"

"I'm your little slut. I'm a slut for your cock."

You go faster, rewarding her for her right answer. Xiaoting moans into the glass, as her forehead rests against it. She feels her nipples touch the cold surface, making them stiff. Your hard grip on her hips makes her hiss in pain, as you can't hold yourself back any longer.

You think you might be going overboard, as you see the light red marks on her flesh, but Xiaoting only moans louder.

"Bruise my hips! Do want you want with my body! Just make me cum!"

Her panting becomes heavier, as you drill her into the window. While you thrust into her you pull her towards you, making you penetrate her even deeper. After a while her forehead starts to hit the glass repeatedly. The banging starts to mix with the sound of flesh hitting flesh. Your hips meeting hers.

Although it somewhat turns you on hearing her head getting shoved against the window, you don't want to hurt her too much.

One of your hands leaves her hips and makes Xiaoting turn her head, so now her cheek is pressed against the glass. You see a red spot on her forehead and a smile on her face.

As you start to fuck her as fast as you can, you can see her mouth hanging open. Xiaoting is unable to form words anymore. Her mind goes blank at the pounding she is getting. She starts to drool on the glass, unable to control her body.

You already expected her to cum sooner or later, but she hit you without warning still. A low moan, almost animal like escapes her throat, as she cums on your cock. Her pussy squeezes you as much as she can. She is unable to move any other part of her body, being trapped between you and the glass. Her cunt contracts around you in a wild rhythm, as she rides out her high.

You have to stop yourself from moving, as you feel yourself getting closer. Not wanting to finish yet, you wait for Xiaoting to calm down.

Once she has regained control over her own body, you regretfully leave her warm cunt. You hear her whine, but you just pick her up. Carrying her to the bed bridal style, you look down on her face.

It does seem like there is gonna be a small mark on her forehead. The sweat on her face is making some of her hair stick to her skin. She looks up at you with half lid eyes.

"Let's see how good of a cumdump you are."

A smile forms on her lips, before you let her fall on the bed. Thinking you want to take her from behind, Xiaoting gets on all fours and starts to crawl to the middle of the bed.

You have something else in mind. You grab her by her ankle and pull her towards you. Her arms, still weak from the pounding she just took, are unable to support her weight. She falls face first into the sheets. She pretends to struggle at your grip, but you force her to the edge of the bed.

"You are not going anywhere until you have my cum running down those beautiful thighs of yours."

You roll her over and examine her body.

Her face is flushed red with arousal. Her nipples are still hard from the cold glass. The pink dress is hanging loosely around her waist, exposing her tight snatch. Her folds are dripping with her juices, making her skin glisten in the hotel room light. Her long creamy legs are now hanging over the edge of the bed. Her heels sparkling.

"What are you waiting for? Put that cock where it belongs."

You take her ankles and put them together, before putting them on your left shoulder. When you enter her this time, Xiaoting feels incredibly tight. You groan at her wetness and you see her arch her back, as she is getting stuffed again.

"Fuck."

The brunette lets out a squeal, as you start to pound her again. You feel even bigger inside of her now. She doesn't know if it's because she came or the position of her legs. Either way she feels completely full, as you take her higher and higher.

While one of your hands is holding her ankles together, the other is holding her thighs. Her closed legs add more to that incredible tightness.

You feel a familiar feeling raising, as you see her body like this. Xiaoting takes your cock with pleasure as you continue to fuck her to her next orgasm.

You know you are close yourself. Wanting to get as much pleasure from Xiaoting's pussy as possible, you move her feet off your shoulder. You push them towards her, exposing her tight snatch to you. Luckily Xiaoting is incredibly flexible. Probably due to her dancing. You push her feet towards her head, until she is able to hold them herself. Her heels are right next to her face as you grab her hips.

Her body lying like this is a beautiful sight to witness, as you pound her faster.

The position of her legs make her even tighter. You were convinced that it was impossible. But here you are. You are almost unable to fuck her properly. She has become this tight.

It feels like the grip of her pussy on your cock is crazy strong.

"I'm gonna cum!"

You move your hand to her clit, rubbing it, as you see her facial expressions.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

Xiaoting looses control once more. She almost lets go off her feet.

"(Y/n)!"

She trembles and whines underneath you, while you keep rubbing her pearl.

"Stop! Please!"

You hear her lustfilled voice. Her tone betraying her words.

She cums again a second later.

"(Y/n)!"

This time it hits her hard. Her pussy contracts wildly around you, before you are pushed out of her. Her juices splash everywhere, as she starts to squirt. Your hand. Her midriff and her dress. The sheets. The carpet. Everything gets drenched.

"No more."

Xiaoting begs for her life, but you don't listen. You keep rubbing her clit making her cum for a third time in a row.

Her juices gush out of her like hydrant, as she covers everything with her cum.

You see that you would break her if you keep going. Moving your hand away from her clit, you grab her hips once more. They are now slick and you have to hold her tighter so you don't let go of them.

Pushing inside of her, you see Xiaoting's eyes roll to the back of her head. Wordless moans and groans escape her mouth. It's visible how hard she is trying to keep her legs in position, not wanting them to snap back towards you like a bow.

Although she is still as tight as before, her wetness now makes it a little easier to slide in and out of her. The sight of Xiaoting cumming like this brought you to the edge as well. You hold on as long as you can, wanting to remember the feeling of her tight pussy forever.

Her limb body is getting rocked back and forth by your thrusts. Her eyes are now staring up at the ceiling. They have lost all focus. It seems like you literally fucked her brains out.

When you are unable to control yourself any longer, you burry yourself as deep in Xiaoting's pussy as possible.

You hear a weak moan escape her half opened mouth, as your cum fills her cunt. Rope after rope paints her inner walls, until you have given her everything you have.

Unable to gather any sort of strength, you fall next to Xiaoting onto the bed. You feel her move a little, resting her head on your chest, before you drift off to sleep.

#kpop female idols #kpop #kpop girls #kpop smut #male reader #kpop gg #kep1er #xiaoting #Spotify

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banananuttrash · 2 years ago

Text

Burn the World

Prompt: You have been secretly dating Hyuga for a couple months, and you are kidnapped by Doubt. Once Hyuga finds out, he will do anything to get you back, even if that means your older brother finding out about your relationship.

Warnings: slight angst

Request: No

Pairing: Hyuga Norihisa x Female Reader ; Rocky x Sister Reader

Word Count: 2k

Notes: This is loosely based on End of Sky when Rascals are fighting against Doubt. I did this purely for entertainment purposes.

⋈ *. : ｡✿ * ﾟ * .: ｡ ✿ * ﾟ * . : ｡ ✿ * ⋈

The moment that you had been dreading had finally come. It was time for you to say goodbye to your boyfriend Hyuga after a whole day of hanging out with him and his crew. The sun was already starting to go down and you had to head out before your brother started wondering where you were.

Here you were with your arms around Hyuga’s neck and his around your waist.

“Can’t you stay the night with me? You know you’re always welcome here,” he said to you, giving you a slight kiss on your forehead.

Slightly pouting your lips, you responded, “You know why I can’t. Rocky would go crazy wondering where I am and if I’m safe.” You get on your tippy-toes and give Hyuga a kiss, to which he responds eagerly. He slowly released your waist, put his hands under your shirt and slowly started to trace circles on your skin.

Before your body started to warm up any more than it already was, you decided to pull away even though you really didn’t want to. You looked at Hyuga and gave him a small smile, “I’ll see you in a couple of days.”

He grumbled but let you go. He holds your hand and walks you to your taxi, “Get home safe.”

You smiled back at him, “I always do.”

On your way home, you think about your relationship with Hyuga. You had been dating secretly for a couple of months and had yet to tell your older brother Rocky about it. If he were to find you you already know his reaction would not be a good one.

You didn’t mean to fall for Hyuga, it just happened. You went out with a friend to a restaurant on Daruma Ikka and he just so happened to be there as well. You were attracted to him without knowing who he was at the time. Once you did find out who he was, you tried to ignore him but he was persistent. You told him that it would have to be a secret for the time being, and he was okay with it.

The taxi started to slow down and I saw that it brought you near Heaven. You send a quick text to Hyuga saying that you made it to the club. The driver turned around and said, “There seems to be some traffic, we may be stuck here for a bit.”

You smiled, “No worries. You can drop me off here.” You thank and pay him before exiting the taxi and head towards the club.

As you walked, you suddenly got dragged into an alley. You turned to look and there was an unfamiliar bald male smirking at you.

You felt your body stiffen up, “Can I help you?”

“You’re Y/N, right? Rocky’s sister?”

You gulped and crossed your arms, “Who’s asking?”

If possible, the man’s smirk widened. “Just a friend.”

Before you could react, someone came up behind you and covered your mouth with a cloth. You began to fight, but the more you struggled, the faster you got tired. Last thing you heard before blacking out was the man say, “Goodnight princess.”

~*~*~*~*~*~

Hyuga was nervous, to say the least. It had been just two days since he had seen you, and there was no communication from your end since you texted him that you had got to the club.

Ukyo and Sakyo tried to convince him that everything was fine and that maybe you were just busy, but Hyuga knew better. There was definitely something wrong.

As to confirm his suspicions, a Daruma member burst into the room and shouted, "Did you guys hear? Doubt has taken Y/N in order to get back at Rascal!"

Hyuga felt himself tense almost immediately. His hands closed into fists and he had to hold in his rage.

Ukyo looked at Hyuga, "What are we gonna do, boss?! They mess with Y/N, they mess with us!"

Other Daruma members started shouting in agreement. After some thought, Hyuga raised his hand to silence them. He then stood up and said, "I'll be back. I have to go talk to a rascal."

As he headed out, he started to apologize mentally to Y/N for what he was about to do.

An hour later, Hyuga found himself in front of club Heaven. He knew that the last thing you wanted was for Rocky to know that you knew each other. He was perfectly okay with hiding your relationship, if anything it gave him a sort of thrill to go behind your brother's back. However, this was a matter of your safety and he needed to know where you were.

He stepped inside and it wasn't long before one of the members of Rascal stopped him.

"What are you doing here?" said the Rascal.

Hyuga's jaw tensed, "I'm here to see Rocky. It's important."

The member looked at Hyuga skeptically before leading him to the VIP room that Rocky resides in.

Hyuga walked in and found Rocky sitting on the sofa. Rocky leaned back and said, "I am not up for any of your games right now, Hyuga. I have better things-"

Looking directly into Rocky's eyes, Hyuga responded, "I'm not here for you. I'm here for Y/N."

Hyuga noticed a sliver of shock in Rocky’s eyes, then they hardened. "How do you-"

Hyuga cleared his throat and lazily looked at Rocky, "I just want to find her as much as you."

Rocky's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but at the moment all he wanted was to get you back safe and sound. If Hyuga wanted to help for some reason, then so be it.

~*~*~*~*~*~

"You should eat something," the bald man who kidnapped you said. You learned that his name was Takano and that you were taken by Doubt, another scouting group that didn't treat women as fairly as the White Rascals did.

When you had woken up, you noticed that you were in a room with a futon and not much else. You tried to leave but the door was locked and there were no windows in order for you to escape. You decided whether or not it was worth yelling and screaming at the door, but what good would that do? You had no idea who had taken you and it would not have been worth the risk to find out.

After a while, two men whose names were Ranmaru and Takano came in. You recognized the names as men from Doubt, since you would eavesdrop on Rocky's conversations from time to time. Ranmaru had yapped his mouth off saying that this wouldn't have happened if Rocky had not messed with him. You had responded by letting him know that once your brother knew where you were, it would end badly for them, and that they wouldn't get away with it.

Of course, Ranmaru didn't like the answer and backhanded you, which led to the red mark you still had on your face.

"Oi, you heard me? Eat," Takano said.

The plate of food was dropped in front of you. It really didn't look appetizing, but since you were starving at this point, you decided to eat. Before you started to, there were shouts heard from outside the room.

Takano looked towards the door and back at you, "Don't try anything." With that, he left the room, locking it behind him.

On the other side of the door, there were two groups of people that burst into the Doubt hang out spot. Men in white clothes and with red jackets filled the place and started to fight.

There were two men that were fighting with everything that they had and with rage. Hyuga and Rocky fought their way through the crowds of Doubt members to try to get to you.

"Where is she?!" was all that you could hear from behind your door. It was Hyuga! He had come for you. You started to bang on your locked door and yell at the top of your lungs.

But instead of someone you wanted to see, it was one of Ranmaru's goons that opened the door.

You took a step back and gulped. He smirked and said, "You're coming with me." He grabbed you tightly by the arm and led you out of the room.

As he pulled you, you tried your best to look around and find anyone that could help you. Then, as if the heavens heard your prayer, you saw Koo and Ukyo. At first you wondered why they would be here together, then you started to yell out their names as loud as you could and tried to run towards them.

The Doubt member that was pulling on you punched you in the face. With the impact of the punch, you fell onto the floor and he started to pull you by the back of your shirt.

You fought against the man's hold and tried to get him to let go. Then, all of a sudden, the man's hold left you. You looked back towards him and saw Rocky punching him. After a couple of them, Rocky released the man and looked at you.

Tears swelled up in your eyes for the first time since you were taken. You ran towards him and hugged him and he embraced you back. Through your tears you whispered, "I was so scared."

He tightened his grip on you and responded, "I know. I gotcha now."

As you headed outside the building with him. You noticed that there were both White Rascals and Daruma members fighting and both sides were starting to retreat once they saw you with Rocky.

"Rocky, why is Daruma fighting with you?" You had a feeling you knew the answer and were scared to be right.

Rocky stiffed a little before answering,"Hyuga came to me and wanted to help look for you. I told him I didn't need nor want his help."

You gulped as he continued, "He was very persistent, and naturally I wondered how it was that he knew you. He told me the truth."

You sighed and looked at the ground, "Are you mad at me?"

He put his hand on your hair and ruffled it a bit, "Am I upset that you're dating another SWORD member? A little. Am I mad? No. Am I mad that you decided to keep it a secret? Yes."

You looked at him with a small smile, "Sorry."

"Plus, I already have him the speech of what is bound to happen if he breaks your heart," Rocky said, smirking.

You punch him lightly in the arm as you make it outside the building.

Towards the side, you see Hyuga and the Daruma members huddling up behind him. You could tell he had also been fighting. He had a couple of bruises on his face and some blood running down his face, some on his knuckles and clothes. To others he might've looked unapproachable and scary, but to you looked manly and hot.

He saw you and froze. You could tell that we wanted to come to you, but that something was holding him back, most likely the fact that you were next to your brother and a whole bunch of White Rascal members.

You looked at Rocky, who was already looking at you. He gave you a silent nod and you smiled and gave him a hug.

You then ran to Hyuga and stopped right in front of him. Up close, you could see his worry lines as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You could tell that he was eyeing the red mark on your cheek. However, you smiled back at him and said,"Yes."

His look softened, "I'm sorry, but I had to tell Rocky. He wanted to-"

You cut him off by grabbing his face in your hands, pulling him down and pressing your lips to his. Hyuga is a bit frozen at first, but then gets comfortable and puts his hands on your waist and begins to kiss you back with urgency.

As you two made out, the Daruma members began to holler and make wolf whistling noises. Meanwhile, the White Rascal members (with the exception of Rocky), made shocked moises and started to yell, "Eh?!"

You pulled back and said, "Thank you for coming for me."

Hyuga pecked your lips again and said, "Babe, I'd burn the world for you."

#high&low #high and low #high&low fanfiction #high and low fanfiction #high & low x reader #high and low x reader #hyuga #hyuga norihisa #hyuga x reader #daruma ikka #daruma #Hyuga Norihisa x reader #rocky #white rascals #rocky x reader

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absurdthirst · 2 years ago

Text

A Fork in the Road {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.9k

Warnings: Mentions of drugs, embezzlement, angst, desperation, irritation, mentions of anal plugs, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal sex, blackmail, extortion

Comments: Coming out of his latest rehab stint, Dieter Bravo learns he's broke. Money and everything he owns stolen, dropped from his agencies, he ends up crashing with you, his former assistant. Living with you and trying to make a comeback in Hollywood, Dieter comes to a fork in the road. Question is, which path will he choose?

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList || Dieter Bravo MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

"What do you mean it's all gone?" Dieter asks the CEO of his investment company, sitting in his fancy office on Olive Street, and he stares in shock.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Bravo. Mr. Lewis took it all. We - we have background checks but I- I do not know what happened with your money. He has transferred it to multiple accounts and the police are tracing it but he knew what he was doing. While you were away-"

Dieter shakes his head, "I was in fucking rehab for three months. I come out and every penny I own is gone. Even my goddamn house. Who - what - someone should be responsible. I need my fucking money. I - I need to talk to someone about getting it back. Some reimbursement." Dieter growls, slapping his hand down on the desk and he could really use a hit right now to calm down.

"I'm sorry Mr. Bravo, we will let you know as soon as we have news. The FBI too. This is a high profile case."

Dieter shakes his head, "thanks for nothing, asshole." He growls, standing up, and he makes his way outside to hail a taxi. The state took his license after he was caught with a hospital worth of meds in the car, off his head on everything he could have taken without killing himself. It was stupid, he knows that now, but back then, he thought he was invincible. He only has one place he can go now. He gives the driver your address and when he arrives, he knocks on your door.

You pause the show you are watching, wondering who the hell is at the door. You didn’t order food and there is a very prominent No Soliciting sticker on your door. Not that you could buy anything anyway. Since Dieter has been at rehab, your paycheck hasn’t come through and every time you call Lewis’s office, they claim that he’s in a meeting and you will get a call back. It’s bad enough that you’ve been living on your savings and DoorDash-ing to pay the bills. Hopefully Dieter, will get his dumb ass out of rehab for the third time so you can get paid. “Dieter!” The man in question is in your doorway, looking miserable. “You’re out!”

Dieter pushes past you to enter your house. “I need your help.” He says immediately, spinning to face you. “I’m fucked.” He runs his fingers through his hair, longer since his stint in rehab. “I- Lewis is gone. He’s taken all my money. The house is gone. My car. All of it.” He reveals, “they can’t find him. Apparently the alphabet boys are trying to hunt it down but it’s gone and I- shit. I don’t have anywhere to live,”

Your jaw drops in shock. “What? How? Oh my god, no fucking wonder I haven’t been paid.”

Dieter frowns and shakes his head. “What the fuck do you mean?” He huffs. “I pay you.” You snort.

“Lewis paid me through your company.” You remind Dieter. “I was an employee, but I haven’t gotten a paycheck since you left for rehab and they kept telling me he would call me back.”

“That motherfucker.” Dieter hisses, pissed that you haven’t been paid. He never would have allowed that. You should’ve been paid even if he was in rehab. “I’m so sorry. Fucker, I can’t - fuck!” He shouts, clenching his fists before he calms down, remembering his coping methods despite the urge to call his dealer. “I need a favor.” He tells you, brushing down his sweatpants.

“What?” You ask and he sighs.

“I need a place to live. They’ve seized my house and I need somewhere to sleep. Can I- could I stay here?” He asks, face softening. “I swear you won’t even know I’m here.”

That’s a lie if you’ve ever heard one. Dieter is anything but quiet, or a good guest. However, you also know that without money or drugs, ninety-nine percent of Dieter's so called ‘friends’ are history. There’s no way you can kick him while he’s down, especially fresh out of rehab. It would send him straight back into a pile of pills. Sighing, you point at him. “I’m not cleaning up after you.” You warn him.

Dieter grins, rushing over to you and he cups your cheeks, kissing your lips. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” He rushes out, letting go of you and he grabs his phone. “I’ll get my stuff. Well, what I have left, from the hotel room I got yesterday after heading home to find I couldn’t get in my house. Thank you sweetheart. I owe you big when we get this shit sorted out. I’ll be back.” He tells you, typing in the address for the Uber. He only has enough money to last him a week or so, so he needs to get out there and start getting a new role.

You sigh and roll your eyes. “Save your money.” You huff, knowing that he won’t think about how expensive the Uber will be there and back. “I’ll take you to get your stuff so you don’t have to waste it on an Uber.” You know that he will land a new role quickly, he’s talented and your eyes widen slightly. “What about all your stuff? Your Oscar?”

“In storage apparently. The bastards let me have that and my Razzie. Hey, things get bad…I can sell those.” He jokes, despite knowing that even in his lowest moments, he never considered selling those precious items. “In storage for another two days or so. I gotta get it out.” He sighs, rubbing his cheek. “Bastard.” He curses Lewis, feeling like such a fool but he is determined to rise above it all. They will find his money and in the meantime, he just needs to get a new role to get some money coming in. “I’ll sort this out, promise.” He offers you an Oscar winning smile while you grab your purse.

You know that Dieter will probably sulk for at least a day or two. Which is fair considering he just had millions of dollars stolen from him. “I’m sorry.” You murmur softly as you both climb into your car and you start it up. “I know that you’re getting fucked over but I’m sure you will pick up a role quickly.” You pull out of the driveway and start down your street. “What hotel did you stay at?”

He flusters, “um, my cards have been stopped so I just - I only had cash. It’s the, uh, Motel 6 off of Hollywood Boulevard.” He bites his lip, knowing he’s had a hard fall from grace. “I don’t have a lot. Gotta get it from storage and I- I gotta look up an NA meeting nearby. It’s required.”

“Nothing wrong with a Motel 6.” You hum. You aren’t going to pile onto him. “We will get your stuff and swing by your storage room. See how much stuff is there.” As much as you rolled your eyes at Dieter’s antics, he had always insisted you be paid well for putting up with his shit. It was a lot more than other assistants. So helping him through this is something that you owe him. “Although, hopefully you haven’t painted the wall in this room?” You tease, reminding him of when he painted the murals on the wall in England while he was trapped on the Cliff Beasts set.

Dieter snorts, looking out of the window. “No. I didn’t. I, uh, haven’t really done a lot of painting since then. Been too busy. Well, until rehab.” He sighs, wishing he could go back in time to stop himself from getting in that car but he was so high at the time, he just wanted McDonalds and figured he’d drive. A stupid mistake that has cost him more than he could’ve imagined. “I’m gonna call my agent tomorrow. See what jobs I can get an audition for.”

You frown slightly, worried about how he will take this new development. You hadn’t wanted to worry him with it while he was in rehab, wanting him to focus on getting clean. “Uh, about that…”

Dieter groans. “What?”

You pull up to the red light and sigh, looking over at him, “your agent dropped you after the DWI. Said that she couldn’t keep you on. Too many incidents.”

Dieter stares at the red light, just processing the information, and it takes him several moments to react. He’s just blinking over and over again until the light turns green. “Fuck!” He shouts, his entire body shaking with the exclamation and he slaps the air. “Those fuckers! I - I’ll sue. I’ll get an attorney and sue them.” He growls but you sigh, “with what money?”

He pauses, slumping down in the seat as you drive. “Fuck.” He rubs his cheek, “shit.” He huffs, closing his eyes, accepting that he’s been dropped. “I, uh, I’ve auditioned without management before. When I got - when I was first starting out. I can do it again.”

You don’t mention the obvious. That Dieter Bravo has had several high profile incidents that would make any studio wary of taking him on. Instead you reach over and pat his thigh. “It will work out.” You tell him encouragingly. “I - I’m going to have to start looking for a job too.” The light turns green and you pull your hand away so you can drive. The motel isn’t too far and you wonder how long it will take before Dieter spirals. He doesn’t like when things don’t go his way.

Dieter sighs, “I’m sorry, sweetheart. You shouldn’t have had to do that. I know you want to be a writer one day. I, uh, have you been working on any scripts?” He asks, wanting to distract himself from his misery, his fuck ups.

Despite heavy drug use and at times questionable morals, Dieter actually listens. When he’s not being a prick. At least he actually listened to you and didn’t mock you when you had admitted it wasn’t your dream job to be a celebrity flunky. You wanted to make the movies. Screenwriter, really. “I’ve almost got one finished. Maybe you could read it for me?” You ask, knowing he might like feeling important, “point out things to punch it up?”

Dieter chuckles sharply, “not like I got anything else to do.” He sighs, feeling guilty, and he looks over at you. “Sorry. I- that was an asshole thing to say. I’d love to read it. You want me to read it?” He catches up with his mind, happy that you want him to read it. He’s just an actor. He merely says the lines.

The annoyance at his comment flares and then quickly dies. Dieter acts out when he’s upset, you know this. In a lot of ways, being his assistant was like having a child. “If you want.” You shrug slightly and pull into the parking lot of the motel. “You know what jumps out at you when you read scripts.”

Dieter pats his pants to find the key, glad you are helping him, and he is gonna have to find a way to thank you. Usually he would just buy something extravagant but he can’t do that now. “I’ll read it. Maybe you could cast me if it gets picked up?” He half jokes, opening the door after you park outside of the room he points too.

You hum, knowing that he might be perfect for the role, considering that you had based the character on him. “You might be perfect for it.” You tell him. The room is disheveled in typical Dieter fashion, making you grin. The man could not pick up his socks to save his life. “Already comfortable, I see.”

He blushes, knowing you’ve seen worse from him, but he can’t disrespect your home by acting like a drugged up raccoon. He rushes around trying to pick everything up but struggles. The drugs have really gotten to him in his older age.

He’s not paying you, but you still help him. Going into the bathroom to pick up the all natural products he insisted on. Luckily he still has plenty, because that shit is expensive and he won’t be able to afford it for long. He’ll be using a brand from the drugstore like everyone else. “Don’t forget your charger.” You remind him, knowing he always leaves it.

He offers you a grateful grunt before he grabs the charger, shoving it in his vegan leather duffel bag. He sighs once the room is cleaned up. “Fucking hated this place.” He huffs, spinning on his heel to head back out to your car, shoving his bags in the trunk and he gets in the front seat, already planning how he’s gonna get a role as soon as possible so he can get his lifestyle back.

You snort and shake your head. “You know that’s where they normally put the crew.” You tell him. “Only reason I get to stay in a room in the hotels you’re put up at is that it was written into your contract so I could manage you.”

“Seriously? They- the crew has to stay in places like this?” He asks, supposing he’s never really thought about it. Especially when he’s in a suite in a four or five star hotel. It makes him uncomfortable, to think of the crews he’s worked with having to stay in this motel whenever he goes anywhere.

“It’s not horrible, if they are clean. Which, thank God, they at least make sure of that. But yeah.” You pull out of the parking spot and pull around towards the street. “The talent is where they spend the money.”

Dieter nods, knowing that once he’s back in action, he will fight for better accommodations for the crew. “I’ll see what I can do about that.” He promises, “I’m glad you had a hotel room. You deserved it for putting up with my ass. I, uh, I’m hungry. I haven’t eaten for a couple of days.”

“Dieeeterrrr.” You sigh, hating how he doesn’t take care of himself. “Okay. We’ll get you something to eat.” You promise, looking over at him. “What do you want? Do you want to pick something up? I’ll pay for it.” You’re better off financially than he is. “What do you want?”

“Tacos.” He says, almost bashfully. His stomach growls now that he’s in a safe space and he isn’t stressed by the state of his financial affairs. He wants food and he decides to keep a note of whatever you get so he can pay you back when he gets his money back. “Can we get tacos?” He rephrases.

“Of course we can.” You nod, willing to get him whatever he wants, but tacos are easy. “We’ll have tacos and some chips and salsa for dinner. I’ve got some beer at the house too, just have a relaxing night.”

He nods, offering you a smile. “Thank you, sweetheart. Seriously, I couldn’t - I couldn’t do this without you.” He offers you a brief moment of appreciation and he knows he’d be lost without you. You soon pick up the tacos and salsa and chips and you drive home. He quickly sets his things in your guest room before you both settle down to eat. “To losing everything.” He toasts, wanting to make a joke of his utter fall from the pedestal Hollywood put him on.

You lift your own drink up. “To starting over sober.” You offer. “Maybe now I won’t have to walk into the orgies you would have.” You snort, shaking your head when you think about some of the shit that he would do.

He chuckles, unashamed of his sexual escapades despite most of them being drug induced. When he was high, he wanted contact, he wanted to feel wanted. Those stupid insecurities he’s carried his entire life since he was a kid driving him to crave intimacy. Even if he had to pay for it.

He knows now that he needs to continue going to therapy, to talk about his mother’s rejection of him and how that led to his habits. He knows he needs to go to NA and remain sober. He has no choice now. It’s cost him his career and his livelihood so he needs to focus on his sobriety and getting his career back. “No orgies.” He promises, “but I can have threesomes?” He asks. You raise your eyebrows and he chuckles, “no threesomes. Got it.”

God, you hadn’t considered Dieter bringing someone over. It wasn’t like you had an active dating life. You couldn’t when you were traveling with him or at his beck and call all the time. “Just let me know about your meetings.” You pick up one of your tacos. “I’ll take you. I want you to succeed.”

“Thank you.” He finds himself saying that again and he truly means it. He doesn’t know what he would’ve done if you hadn’t taken him in. “Can you get me some water?” He asks, acting like you are still employed by him and the moment you just had is gone.

You stare at him for a moment before you put your taco down and get up to get him some water. You should tell him no but you don’t. You’ll do it tomorrow. Tonight he just needs to relax. “Here.” You bring out a bottle of water you had in your refrigerator and hand it to him.

He doesn’t say thank you this time. Too used to you doing what he wants. He finishes his tacos and rubs his stomach, “fuck. I needed that.” He yawns, exhausted now that he’s full. It’s been a stressful two days and he didn’t exactly sleep well in the Motel 6. He pats his belly, “I’m gonna head to bed.” He stands up, leaving his plate and makes his way into the bedroom. He looks back at you, “it’s gonna be fun living together, right sweetheart? Goodnight.” He declares and disappears into the bedroom.

****

You’re going to fucking kill him. He’s awake at all damn hours of the night, doing God knows what. He leaves shit everywhere and expects the magic fucking maid fairy to pick it up. And if he fucking pisses on the toilet one more time you’re going to kill him. “I’m going to fucking kill him!” You hiss, yanking the dishwasher open to deposit the eight glasses you have found scattered around your house. Plus the bottle of cigarette butts from the porch - that went in the trash.

Dieter groans as he opens the bedroom door. It’s 3 in the afternoon and he was up all night trying to find auditions. It’s been a few weeks and he hasn’t found a single acting job. Unless he resorts to porn. He’d do it but it wouldn’t do his movie career any good. He is desperate to get a role. The money hasn’t been found by the FBI and they seem to have given up. He’s getting more and more desperate by the day and he is spiraling. When he stumbles into the kitchen, he sees you standing there with your arms crossed. “Everything okay?” He frowns, opening the fridge to take out the milk.

He doesn’t wait for you to answer, twisting the cap off the bottle and lifting the entire thing to his lips to start chugging. Making you wrinkle your nose as he drinks the milk straight from the jug. While you appreciate not messing up another cup, it’s gross. Especially when you know where Dieter Bravo’s lips have been at times. He’s in boxers and - is that your silk bathroom? You grit your teeth in frustration. Crocs round out the outfit, as well as his hair sticking up every direction. Obviously he just woke up. “No, everything isn’t ‘okay’, Bravo.” You hiss finally.

Dieter frowns, setting the milk down on the counter and he wipes his lips. “What’s wrong? Is it- shit. Did I leave the toilet seat up again?” He asks, knowing you hate that. He is trying to be less selfish but he’s been used to being pampered for years, it’s a hard habit to break.

“Yes.” You huff, rolling your eyes. “And leaving cups around the house for me to pick up. Drinking from the milk jug. That’s gross.” You throw your hands up. “You expect me to cook for you because you don’t know how. I just- Dieter, you have to start taking care of things yourself!”

Dieter shifts from one foot to the other, at least having the decency to look ashamed. “I- I’m sorry sweetheart. It’s just- no one has taught me. My mom…I never got shown how to do anything. Kinda had to figure it out for myself and by the time I had to really worry about that stuff, it was already being taken care of for me. I want to learn. Show me what I need to do.” He pleads, not wanting you to kick him out of your home. He’d be on the streets if he couldn’t find a shelter.

Your anger deflates quickly, shoulders rounding. You've heard him talk about the problems with his mom and you don’t want him to feel like it’s another hurdle in getting back on his feet. “Okay.” You agree, dropping your hands and taking a deep breath. You had known it was going to be exasperating at times to live with Dieter. “First thing, if you get it out, you put it up. Okay? We don’t have a maid and I’m going to be starting work soon.” You had an interview with another up and coming celebrity and you were just waiting on the call back, but you know it’s going to happen.

Dieter nods, “I can do that. When - when are you starting work?” He inquires, curious as to who you are going to be working for. He won’t admit it but he’s a little jealous to think of you with someone else. He doesn’t want you to be unemployed but he’s a little jealous of you working for another actor. “I won’t drink from the milk jug anymore.” He concedes.

“I’m expecting the call this week.” You had been told to stay by your phone, only waiting on the required background check. Which you know will come back good. “It’s supposed to be flexible so I can finish up my script.” Which he hadn’t read yet. You don’t bother to remind him of his promise to read it, but it kind of hurts your feelings.

The lightbulb goes off in Dieter��s head. Your script. That he was supposed to read. “Shit. I - can I get another copy? I swear I want to read it but it got lost in the other scripts I’m studying for auditions. I have one tomorrow. Finally. It’s not - it’s nothing special but it’s money.” He shrugs, knowing he needs to start from scratch after every agency in L.A seemed to laugh in his face about him getting back into acting. “I’m glad you’ve found something. Hopefully, this is temporary and I can start paying you again once I’ve gotten back into blockbusters. You want to - can you show me how to use the dishwasher?”

You are used to Dieter constantly switching from one topic to another so you don’t let it phase you. Instead you turn back to the machine and open it. “Sure. Come over here you big baby and I’ll show you how to load the dishwasher.”

He rushes over, watching you load the dishes. “Cups on top, dishes below and cutlery goes here.” You show him before you grab a dishwasher pod and show him how to turn it on. He bites his lip, turning towards you. “We might have to run through that again.” He admits, “and the washer? I should probably wash my clothes.” He had taken to stealing your robe and just lounging around in it unless he had to get dressed. He’s been a movie star for nearly thirty years. He hasn’t had to do much in his life.

You wrinkle your nose and nod. “I’m sure you have a pile of dirty clothes.” You’ve picked up plenty of the socks and other bullshit that Dieter left around, but you’ve not done any of his clothes. It doesn’t shock you that Dieter doesn’t know how to do laundry. “Have you at least used the laundry basket in the guest room? Or is everything laying around everywhere?”

He bites his lip, looking guilty enough to make you sigh. “Grab the basket and pick everything up so we can get it washed.” He nods and walks into the guest room, clothes everywhere and the blinds are closed. “We will wash the bedsheets too.” You tell him, not judging but you know you washed them a couple of weeks after he moved in and they haven’t been done since. “I’m sorry I’m so fucking useless.” Dieter starts to wail, sobbing as he sits down on the edge of the bed.

Oh boy. You kneel down and put your hand on Dieter’s knee. “Stop it.” You tell him sternly, making his eyes widen slightly as you take a tone with him that you haven’t before. “You are a talented man. Fucking gifted. You are smart. This is going to be a piece of cake for you to learn.” Your words soften slightly and you give him a small smile of encouragement. “Look at this like you are studying for a role. Your next role is that of a house husband.” You joke.

He sniffs, processing your words, and eventually he nods. Wiping his eyes, he knows you are right. He can do this. He has to do this. He offers you a watery smile, "house husband. Kinda like that." He chuckles and you snort, grinning at him. "Come on, let's get this gathered up and I will show you how to use the washer and dryer." You promise and he nods, determined to learn. Before you walk away, he reaches out to grab your hand, "thank you...for helping me with, well, everything."

****

When you open the door to your home, you hear Dieter cursing and he looks up when you find him in the kitchen. He’s covered in flour and cringes, “I, uh, I’m sorry about the mess.” He had tried to follow the recipe but in his enthusiasm, the kitchen is a disaster and he’s waiting for the cake to cook but he forgot how long it’s been in there for. He wanted to do something nice to thank you for letting him stay but he has officially run out of money for non essentials and he wanted to get you something.

You could be mad, probably should be considering that there is egg yolk dripping off the counter and flour everywhere - but all you can do is grin. “What’s all this?” You ask as you set your bag down on a blessedly clean chair and walk into the kitchen. Dieter looks around and motions to the oven.

“I, uh, I’m baking a cake.” You never thought you would find Dieter covered in flour and baking a cake in your kitchen but it's so damn cute that it makes you laugh.

“Really? That’s great!” You huff, it’s like he’s a little kid trying to make breakfast for mom and failing spectacularly. “Is it almost done? It smells like it.”

Dieter blushes, “I, uh, I forgot the timer.” He admits, “I just - I wanted to make something nice for you to say thank you for letting me live with you. I know I’m not the easiest man to have in the house and I- I thought this would be a nice way to say thanks. I’ve - shit - I made icing and I wanted it to be done before you got home.”

The thought is even sweeter when you realize why he is going through the effort and mess. “That’s okay.” You assure him, moving towards the oven and grabbing a pot holder. “If you want to check the doneness of a cake, stick a toothpick in it.” You instruct him as you open the door to a wave of heat and the delicious scent of a cake. “If it comes out clean, it’s done.”

Dieter nods, “I can do that.” He reaches for the drawer to grab a toothpick and he leans over, inserting it and it comes out clean. “Oh thank fuck I didn’t burn it.” He chuckles nervously. “Now we decorate it?” He guesses and you shake your head.

“You gotta let it cook first.”

He nods, sitting down after you turn off the oven. He taps his fingers, growing impatient. “Can’t we put it in the fridge? I want to decorate it for you. Can you act surprised? I just- it’s for you.” He adds bashfully.

It’s endearing, the way that he is very timid right now. Making your heart melt at how he is trying to do something nice for you. “It will be fine in the fridge.” You agree as you pull out a cooling rack for him to put it on. “I will go take a bath to relax and when I come out, I will be completely surprised by the wonderful thought.” You promise with a soft smile.

Dieter grins, grateful you’re playing along. “Oh! How was work today?” He asks, wondering how it’s been going with your new boss. He can’t deny he’s a little jealous but he won’t be childish for once and sulk. You are paying the bills after all.

“Honestly?” You take a deep breath and shake your head. “It was great. We get along fantastically and there’s not a whole lot of -” You remember you are talking to the man who had been your boss, who had made a lot of the foolish demands that would drive you crazy. “It’s going to be a good fit I think. The pay is nice.”

Dieter nods, a little sad you are working for someone else but he's happy you have found a job you like. He watches you hesitate for a second before you tell him you are going to have a bath and he sets to work on the cake. He patiently - impatiently really - waits for the cake to cool down then he decorates it with the frosting he had made. He had tried a bunch of it before he decided it was good enough for the cake and he manages to write out "thank you" in icing that he colored with cocoa powder. He knows it's not neat but it's the best he could do.

In the bath, you take your time, knowing that Dieter will probably need every second to ice the cake and hopefully clean up the kitchen a little. He’s been getting better, you have to admit that. Although he was still selfish sometimes, you know you won’t break him of that. It’s just a part of who Dieter is, although this is uncharacteristically kind of him. Maybe he’ll even read your script like he promised he would. After nearly an hour, you get out and get dressed in your lounge clothes and come back out into the living room. “I’m home.” You announce playfully.

Dieter has been anxious for you to see and taste the cake since he finished decorating it. It wasn’t easy to do and he hopes you don’t think he totally fucked it up. He watches you walk into the almost clean kitchen and he grins, proud of what he has accomplished. “Ta dah!” He gestures to the cake on the counter, praying you like it.

Walking into the kitchen, your eyes light up when you see the cake. “Diet! It’s- it’s wonderful.” You gush, the icing isn’t perfect and the lettering isn’t either but you love the effort that he put into this. It might be the sweetest thing that he’s ever done. Walking over to him, you kiss his cheek gently. “Thank you, I- I want to have a slice right now.” You hum, giving him a grin. “Have one with me?”

He blushes deeply at your praise, recognizing that need while he was in rehab and was in therapy. Always seeking the praise his mother never gave him. He is so happy to see you love it though and he grabs the knife and two plates, cutting into his creation with a little bit of melancholy since it took so long, but he’s eager for you to try it.

You pour two glasses of milk to have with the cake and smile when both you and Dieter sit down at the small table together. “You didn’t have to do this.” You promise him as you pick up your fork and cut off a piece of the cake. “But I love this. I’ve been craving something sweet and you’ve taken care of that.”

He waits for your reaction, almost frozen as he prays you don’t spit it out and say it tastes like shit. He knows it’s unlikely that you’d do that but who knows…his prior asshole self probably would’ve done that. “How is it?” He asks, biting his lip as he eagerly awaits your reaction.

Eyes widening in surprise, you make a noise of pleasure. “Holy shit.” You manage after you swallow. “It’s really good. I mean that, it’s really good.” You eagerly take another piece of the cake and shove it in your mouth and follow it up with a swallow of milk. “Oh my god.” You moan.

Your moan makes his long abandoned cock twitch. Fuck, you sounded so sweet. It’s been so long since he had anything other than his hand and right now, he wants to eat you more than the cake. He never really saw you as a sexual option when he employed you, even he has guidelines, but fuck, that moan. He shifts to cross his legs to hide his erection before he takes a bite of his own creation, his own moan escaping him.

Nodding in agreement, you try not to let Dieter’s sound get to you. Instead you focus on the cake and the immense pleasure you get from each sweet bite. It is perfect for satiating that sweet tooth you’ve had. Halfway through your slice, you look over at him. “This was really sweet. I appreciate it.” You give him a sweet smile. “I’m going to regret this when I don’t fit into my outfit next week.”

Dieter scoffs before he frowns, “what’s next week?” He asks, wondering what the hell you are doing. He knows you inside and out. You don’t date, you never have plans. He was your whole life up until he went to rehab again and that hasn’t really changed.

You hesitate for a second before you roll your eyes at yourself. Dieter doesn’t care what you do and you don’t work for him anymore. So it’s not like you have to worry about him calling you away now. “I have a date next Friday.” You announce with a small grin. “It might roll into Saturday if it goes well, who knows?” You add. It’s been awhile since you’ve gotten laid and you really need it at this point. You haven’t even masturbated since Dieter moved in.

That doesn’t sit well with Dieter. He swallows harshly, reaching for the milk to take a gulp and he forces every acting skill he has to offer you a smile and a “that’s nice.” He doesn’t say another word as he sets the glass down and takes another bite of the cake. “Who’s the guy?” He adds after several moments of heavy silence between you.

You bite your lip and reach for your own glass of milk for another drink. Wondering how Dieter will take the news of who you are going out on a date with. “Charlie Squires.” You admit, looking over at the cake and then back down at your plate. Charlie was an actor, someone who moved in the same circles Dieter had before his fall from grace, although Charlie wasn’t into the drug scene like Dieter was.

He clenches his jaw. Fuck, he hates Charlie. The current golden boy of Hollywood. He was in some fucking superhero movies and suddenly, he’s the next big thing. He’s muscular too. Bright blue eyes. Dieter huffs, setting down his fork. “Yeah. He’s, uh, he’s a nice guy.” He says it a little harshly but who can blame him? He doesn’t want you going on this date.

Dieter is not happy, that much is obvious, but you try to ignore it. “Yeah, it’s no big deal.” You promise lightly, not mentioning that Charlie had been the one to ask you and mention that he had been interested in getting to know you for a while. Actually had been asking around to find out where you had gone after Dieter dropped off the face of the planet before you had run into him at the studio where his next movie is being shot. “Dinner and whatever happens.”

Dieter offers you a tight smile, knowing he can’t ruin this for you. “That’s nice,” he says it a little sarcastically but you can’t blame him. He knows you should be out there, dating and getting laid, but he fucking hates the thought of you with Charlie. If he was truly honest with himself, he’d say anyone. He sighs and sets his fork down, “I’m gonna - I’m gonna do the dishes. You wanna finish your cake and find a movie or something?” He offers, needing a moment alone.

“Yeah.” You stare at him in confusion for a moment but he’s already pushing away from the table and turning back to the kitchen. Frowning, you shake your head and look down at the cake. Why can’t he be happy you have a date? Is it because you don’t belong with celebrities since you are just an assistant? Ironic considering this assistant is the only reason that he has a place to live. There weren’t lines of people begging him to live with them when he was at his lowest. You huff and pick up your cake to take it into the living room. If he couldn’t be happy for you, then fuck him.

****

Dieter taps his knee, anxious about you going on this date. He tries to be happy for you but something just isn’t sitting right with him. He runs his fingers through his hair, listening to you get ready and he stands when he hears the clink of your heels. He walks into the living room and his jaw drops at the pretty dress you’re wearing. “Holy shit.” He gasps

“Is it okay?” You are officially a little panicked but you can’t help it. You are going out with a celebrity. He had warned you that there might be paps around and you don’t want to embarrass him. “Not too much? Or is it not enough? I should change, shouldn’t I?”

He stares at you for another few minutes before he shakes his head, “no. No. It’s - it’s perfect. You look - you look fucking incredible.” He blinks dumbstruck. He’s always thought you were a beautiful woman but to see you going out on a date with someone he can’t stand, it kills him. He wants to beg you to not go, to stomp his feet like he would’ve done if you were still employed by him. He can’t do that, it’s not fair. “He’s gonna - he’s gonna be blown away.”

You smile in relief, reaching out to touch his shoulder in appreciation for calming you down. “Thanks.” You tilt your head at him curiously. “What are your plans tonight? Movie and pizza or do you have a date of your own?”

He snorts, “no. No. I’ll be here. Probably gonna try and find another audition.” He’s also been secretly reading your script. It’s brilliant and he’s made notes but he knows if you got it in the right hands, it would be picked up. He rubs his thighs and sits down on the sofa, trying to stop himself from making you stay. Old Dieter would’ve made up some excuse to stop you from going but he’s not that man anymore. He won’t be a selfish asshole.

You lean in and cup his cheek. “You will find an amazing project.” You promise him, bussing his cheek with a small kiss and smudging your lipstick on his skin. Your phone buzzes and your eyes widen slightly as you pull back. “Okay, that’s him.” You stand tall and straighten your dress. “Wish me luck!” Grabbing your purse, you quickly disappear out the door.

He watches you go and suddenly realizes that he doesn’t want you to go on this date. He wants you to go on a date with him. He wants you to be with him. You’ve been so good to him, teaching him life skills that his parents had neglected to teach him, too focused on him being an actor, and he can never repay you for that. He’s good for nearly an hour before he grabs his phone, deciding to get you back home from the date. He sends a quick text, “need you to come home ASAP. Dishwasher isn’t working.” It’s lame but it’s all he could think of.

You blow out a sigh when you see Dieter’s text. You reply. “It’s okay, I’ll look at it when I get home.” He probably didn’t set it right. You put your phone away but it dings again.

“It’s spraying water everywhere.”

“Shit.” You look over at Charlie and sigh. “I need to go back home, there’s apparently some kind of emergency. Water.”

When the door lock rattles, Dieter sits up straight and waits for you. He’s pleased that his excuse worked but he’s also guilty for ruining your date. You immediately walk into the kitchen to find the dishwasher running and no water. “What the hell, Bravo?” You hiss, stomping back into the living room where Dieter just sits with his arms crossed, pouting and refusing to look at you.

“The water isn’t leaking, so why exactly did you text me that it was?” You demand, glaring at him but he won’t even look at you. “Oh my fucking God!” You snap, annoyed that he is back up to his old tricks. “I’m leaving, and you better not text me fucking lies again. Unless the house is actually on fire!” You pull out your phone to text Charlie again, hoping you can salvage your date with him.

Dieter stands up, shaking his head. "No. I, uh, I'm sorry for lying but you can't go back on the date." He rushes out.

You narrow your eyes at him, "why not? I'm not your assistant anymore. You can't control what I do."

Dieter nods, "I know. I know. I just - fuck. Living with you is impossible." He growls.

Huffing incredulously, you can’t believe him. “Living with me is impossible?” You choke out. “I listen to 3 AM mantras when you can’t sleep and lord knows how many times to you jerking off. And yet I’m impossible to live with? When was the last time I fucking left a butt plug in the sink in the bathroom?”

Dieter pauses for a moment, not minding the idea of that, before he shakes his head. “No. No. You don’t fucking understand. Since I stopped - since I stopped taking drugs I have all of these stupid fucking emotions and I can’t - it’s so much to handle because you’re you and you’ve always been you, and I never noticed you before until now.” He pants and you cross your arms, “what the hell are you talking about, Bravo?” He huffs, taking a step closer to you. “It’s impossible to live with you because I’m in love with you.”

Scoffing, you shake your head. Dieter Bravo loves the idea of love but he only loves himself. “No you don’t, you just- you’re grateful that I gave you a place to stay.” You soften slightly, knowing Dieter still struggles with sobriety and has been working on keeping clean. It’s not been easy with the number of rejections he’s had professionally. “Dieter…” you step closer to him and brush his hair back. “It’s okay to be scared but just because I’m going on a date doesn’t mean I’m going to forget about you. Or kick you out. I didn’t kick you out when you nearly caught the kitchen on fire.” You smirk, remembering how panicked he had been when the pizza had been black coming out.

Dieter shakes his head, reaching out to grab your hips. "No. No. I - I know how I feel. I've never felt like this before. I can't wait for you to come home, I love just sitting beside you, not even talking. I love watching you when you are getting ready in the morning. I love the way your nose crinkles when you are writing. I love you. You are my home. I haven't - I haven't had a home. My parents just wanted me to make them money as an actor and they didn't hug me or look after me or do anything a parent should do. You taught me how to look after myself and you taught me what it feels like to belong somewhere. I love you. I love you." He shifts to kneel down, clinging to your legs and he closes his eyes, praying he doesn't lose you.

Of all the things you had thought would happen, having Dieter Bravo on his knees in front of you was the last of those. There have been a lot of times you imagined it, Dieter is handsome in a very carefree or messy kind of way and he cleans up very nicely. Charming when he wants to be. It’s not like you haven’t entertained fantasies with him, especially when you know he loves sex. Reaching down, your fingers slide through the curly strands of his hair. “Okay, I - I’ll stay home.” You murmur quietly, wondering if he really means it.

Dieter is relieved but he always wants to show you how much he loves you, how much he wants you. He lets go of your legs and runs his hands along their length. “Can I - I want to taste you. Tell me no if you don’t want me to touch you.” He orders, not wanting to cross the line.

You’ve always wondered if he was good in bed. You’ve heard that he was amazing, and that he was selfish. One particular incident was one lover throwing Dieter out of her room at one in the morning screaming about him being a two pump chump. He had been incredibly high. Right now though, his eyes are clear and lust filled. You swallow and nod, biting your lip as you give him permission.

He slowly, so slowly, reaches up to hook his fingers in your panties after sliding them under your dress. He pulls them down, his eyes on yours, and when you step out of them, he tosses them aside. He doesn’t dive in. No, he kisses along your calf up to your knee, licking the spot behind it and he kisses up your thigh, ducking his head under your dress and he groans at the heady scent of you. His lips kiss along your thigh and he sucks on your hip, making you gasp. He kisses along your mound until he breathes you in. Finally, his tongue slides between your folds, a heavy groan escaping his lips and vibrating into you at the tangy taste of you.

You’d expected him to be eager, rushed. Greedy with the number of swipes of his tongue before he was ready to move on. You hadn’t expected him to lick your cunt like he has all the time in the world. Tossing your head back, you moan, loving how slowly he explores you. Your hips shuffling forward, and your fingers grasping for his head while he tastes you. “Dieter.” You pant breathlessly, this once imagined scene now a reality in your living room.

Dieter groans, loving how you taste and he reaches for your thigh, lifting it onto his shoulder and he moans into your flesh when you open up for him, allowing him to push his tongue deep inside of you. For once, this isn’t about him. It’s about you and his love for you. Sex has always been mutual gratification but Dieter doesn’t care if you don’t fuck him or suck him after, he just wants to make you feel what he feels for you.

Whimpering, your head falls forward, hating how you can’t see him under your dress. You reach for the zipper, tugging it down so you can pull your dress over your head. Leaving you in just your bra and heels while Dieter’s head comes into view and you moan when his eyes open and look up at you.

He loves your moans, his hands gripping your ass to keep your hips tilted so he can delve deeper inside of you. His nose presses against your clit, he groans into your flesh, eager to make you cum and yet he’s in no rush. He flicks his tongue over your clit before sucking it into his mouth like those candies you give him from the jar you keep on your kitchen counter.

“Dieter, fuck.” You can’t believe how decadent this is. It’s almost sinful, just letting him slowly lick into your pussy like he’s learning anatomy through his tongue. “Knew your mouth had to be- be good.” His eyes are fixated on you like this is something he loves, and maybe he does. You had just assumed he was more of a taker than a giver.

Your moans make his cock ache in his sweats but he doesn’t touch himself, too obsessed with how you sound, how you taste. His tongue lathes over your clit before it dives back into your cunt, his fingers squeezing your ass to encourage you to rock against him. It’s the most selfless he’s ever been with a lover and that tells him everything he needs to know. You mean something to him.

You whimper, loving how eager he is. Your hips rock, rolling onto his tongue and you moan out his name again while your fingers sink into the strands of his hair. You've always wanted to pull his hair, sometimes out of frustration, but right now it's to guide him to go deeper. To devour you. "Fuck, Diet." You moan, eyes fluttering as you look down at this Oscar winning actor on his knees for you.

He obeys, eager to please, and slides his tongue deeper inside of you. His nose smushed against your clit and he turns his head side to side. Wanting, no needing, you to cum. He moans into your cunt, his eyes closing and he reaches up with one hand to squeeze your tit, pinching your nipple.

Gasping, your knees nearly buckle as you start to cum. You feel pleasure course through your system and nearly overtake everything but the flames that are flashing through your entire body. "Dieter!" Your hand pulls on his hair as you ride the waves of pleasure.

He keeps you pressed against him, working you through your orgasm. His fingers dig deep into your flesh as he drinks you down, his tongue lapping up every drop of your cum that you offer him. His cock aches but he won’t ask for anything, just happy to have made you cum.

It takes you a moment to realize your soul hasn't left your body. Opening your eyes and letting go of his hair so you can cup his cheek. "Holy shit." You giggle, looking down at him in wonder. "That was- fuck, that was amazing." You pant, noticing his cock is straining against his sweats. "And it looks like you enjoyed it, but I'm sure you are ready for more."

Dieter blushes as he lowers your leg. “You don’t - I’m not expecting anything back. I just - I wanted to show you what you mean to me. I can go jerk off.” He offers, not wanting you to feel like he did this just for the reciprocation even though he desperately wants to feel you, all of you.

"Shut up and get your ass in my bed, Bravo." You roll your eyes at him and bite your lip in amusement at the way he scrambles to obey you. Obviously eager to get inside you, to be able to fuck you.

He stumbles to your bedroom, flinging the door open, and he pulls his t-shirt over his head, shoving his sweats down to expose his hard cock. He’s unashamed of his nudity, far too used to closed sets and sharing multiple lovers. He is happy with himself and that’s evident as he stands there naked, waiting for his next orders.

You can’t help but giggle at the proud stance he’s in. His hands on his hips with his cock jutting out. He still has one croc on his foot, and his expression is needy. You reach behind you and unhook your bra to fling it across the bedroom so you are nude as well. “Lay down on the bed.” You order him softly. “I’ve imagined riding your cock a hundred times and I’m going to cum all over it.”

Dieter doesn’t have to be told twice, he shifts to lay down on the bed, kicking off the lone croc and his cock rests on his lower stomach while he waits for you to make your move. “Condom?” He asks, almost breathless as his eyes devour your tits.

You bite your lip. You should, but you know that Dieter hasn’t slept with anyone since he’s been out of rehab and he is surprisingly clean of STDs. Plus you have always imagined feeling him without the barrier of a condom. “I’m on birth control.” You offer quietly. “If you want a condom, I’ve got one in my purse but-“

“Fuck no!” He blurts out. It’s been so long since he went raw, not since his short-lived marriage back when he was thirty to another actress that turned out to be lust and drugs and led to a messy divorce. She still doesn’t speak to him. It’s been too damn long since he hasn’t worn a condom and to be inside of you…fuck, it almost has him cumming now without even touching you. “Please baby. Use my cock. I want you to take what you need from me.”

You moan softly, watching his cock twitch and you can see the small dribble of pre-cum pool on his belly. “Fuck.” You kneel on the bed and you can’t help but duck your head down and run your tongue up the underside of his cock.

Dieter yelps loudly and you giggle when you press your tongue to the slit. “Please baby, fuck me.” He begs, body tense as you show him some mercy and straddle his waist.

He watches you, in awe of your entire being, and he allows you the moment to grip his cock, slowly…so fucking slowly, you sink down onto his length. He hisses, hands raised and clenching his fists as he fights the urge to grab you. He wants to touch but this is about you.

Your head tilts back and you moan as he stretches you out. You had known he was thick, but there is a difference between seeing his cock and feeling him fill you up. “Oh fuck.” You whimper, ass flush against his thighs and you swivel your hips to grind down onto him. “Feels so fucking good, baby.”

“Can I touch you?” He asks, fingers twitching, and when you breathe out a “yes,” his hands are everywhere. He caresses your side, hands squeezing your tits until they rest on your hips, helping you rock on his cock. “Fuck. You feel - it’s better than any fucking drug.” He confesses, his entire body on fire from the feel of you and his heart pounds in his chest from emotion instead of coke.

You ride him slow, aware that he’s bigger than any of your toys. Closing your eyes as you grind down on him and then lift up to where his cock almost completely falls out of you. “You- you moved in just to fuck me.” You pant playfully. “Didn’t you? Still have your money too.”

Dieter snorts, his hands caressing your hips. “Oh yeah. I borrowed that twenty bucks from you yesterday for drug store deodorant and body wash because I love to mess around - shit - and make sure I got to fuck you. Fuck, you’re so wet.” He hisses when you sink back down onto him. You’re too good at this and it takes his breath away.

You smirk and lean down to press your lips to his. “Knew it.” You tease, pressing your breasts to his chest while you move up and down on his cock. He feels amazing and you wonder why the fuck you didn’t do this sooner. “At least you smell good.” You coo before you bite his chin.

He chuckles and presses his lips to yours for the first time, sliding his tongue into your mouth, and his hands caress your back before squeezing your ass. It’s languid and unlike the frantic fucks he has experienced in his active sex life. He isn’t in a rush to cum, content to let you seek your pleasure despite the need to fuck up into you and bury his cock deep. He pushes it aside and lets you ride him.

You’re kissing Dieter, you’re fucking Dieter. Dieter Fucking Bravo. The same man who drives you up a wall most days, whines and his brow flinches as he tries not to rock up into you. He’s trying to hold himself back. Pushing up slightly, you brace your hands on his chest, remembering how he had nearly died in that hotel in England. The reports were horrible and you hate that you hadn’t been there. It makes you bounce a little faster, reminding yourself that he’s here and for the moment, you have him.

He groans when you move a little harder and faster on his cock, his hands squeezing your waist and he shifts to sit up, taking your nipple into his mouth. He wants you to cum on his cock, to soak him. He sucks on your breast, his hands clinging to your back while you rock your hips onto his cock.

“Oh fuck, Deeeeee.” You whine when he bites down sharply, instantly soothing it with his tongue. It makes you squeeze him as you bounce on his cock, completely lost in the mind blowing reality that you are in bed with Dieter. “Gonna- gonna cum then I want- I want you to fuck me.” You pant breathlessly, throwing your head back so he can play with your tits easier. “Oh fuck.”

Dieter doesn’t refuse you, shifting you onto your back so he can start slamming his hips into you. The sounds in the room are absurd, skin slapping skin, moans and groans. Sweat beading on his neck as he grunts your name and demands you cum for him. “Please. Cum for me.” He whines, leaning down to take your nipple in his mouth again.

His plea, the scrape of his teeth and the perfect way that his cock shreds up into you triggers it. Practically screaming his name, you soak his cock in a torrent of your juices, the hardest orgasm you’ve had in forever.

Your cunt clamping down on his cock has him groaning your name and he works you through it with short, desperate thrusts of his hips. Your cries as he thrusts deep spur him on until his pace falters and he buries his cock deep, painting your walls with his cum. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Shit.” He pants, his forehead resting on your sternum.

It’s silent as the two of you try to catch your breath. His cock twitching inside your still fluttering walls while neither one of you moves. Now you wonder what to say, what to do. Slowly your hands move down from his shoulders to his sweaty back, caressing it slowly as he snuggles into your neck, apparently not ready to pull out of you.

Dieter murmurs your name, in awe of you and how incredible you are. You’re his saviour and it’s clear as day that he’s in love with you. “I love you.” He coos, kissing along your neck to your jaw before he pulls back to look at you.

Now that you’ve slept together, you wonder how long that feeling will last. Dieter is…fickle for lack of a better word and you hate to think that it might just be the emotional neediness behind all of this. “I love you too.” The words are simple for you to say, you do love him. You’ve loved him for a long time. Even if you couldn’t stand him when he was at his worst. It was one of the reasons you had stuck by him for so long.

Dieter inhales sharply at your confession and he has tears in his eyes as he buries his face in your neck. He hasn’t heard those words in so long, especially when you actually mean them. He has been used for his fame and his money for as long as he can remember - even by his own parents - so to hear you say you love him when he is at his lowest, with no money and no fame. You love him for him. For the chaos he is and the selfish asshole he is. You love him and that makes him sob into your neck, muttering he loves you over and over again.

You shush him softly, stroking his hair and his back while he works through his emotions. Not shaming him for his tears or wanting him to stop, just providing comfort. Your own kisses to his hair are gentle and it’s probably the only time a man has cried after sex with you, but you understand why. “I love you too.” You promise him, loving how he holds you close.

Dieter eventually falls asleep after pulling out of you and flipping down on the bed beside you. You watch him for a while before you clean up and get yourself something to eat. He has exhausted himself emotionally but you know it’s not a bad thing, he’s processing.

****

The next morning, Dieter wakes up to his phone ringing where you placed it on your dresser and he scrambles to answer it in case it’s a call back. He answers the phone with a groggy ‘hello’ and the producer who had been in charge at the audition he went to a few days ago is on the phone.

“Dieter. Hi, it’s Harriet. Can you come in today? I want to do another call back.” Her voice is sickly sweet which makes Dieter frown for a moment but he is so excited to have a callback, that he smiles.

“Absolutely. Let me know what time you want me in.” He responds eagerly.

“One this afternoon. I want you to come to my personal office for the call back.” She says and Dieter pauses, “uh, sure.”

She continues, “for a personal callback. I’ve heard about your numerous oral skills and I would like to experience it. I loved you in Hunger Strike. Your first movie too with the sex scene…I want to recreate that.” She coos and Dieter feels sick.

He knows how the industry works, especially for women, and it has been something he always fought again, but now, he’s on the receiving end and this is his chance to get back into Hollywood. He sighs, “um, okay. I’ll see you at one.” He tells her, his stomach feels like lead as he hangs up the phone.

You had woken up before Dieter and decided to go to the store. You wanted to make breakfast before you had to go to work. It was going to be a late night so your boss had told you to not even come in until around three. Something that you had wished Dieter had done sometimes. It didn’t matter though, you open the door with the bags on your arm. Right now, it just meant you could spend the morning with him.

Dieter stares at the phone for several moments until he hears the front door so he makes his way into the living room after grabbing his robe. "I, uh, I just had a call from the producer for that movie I auditioned for last week." He announces, crossing his arms as he watches you put the groceries away.

"What?" You stop with a carton of eggs in your hand and turn around with a happy grin on your face. "That's great, Dieter! I'm so proud of you, I knew you could find something that you wanted." It might not be exactly what he wanted but you also know that he's a fucking talented actor and could make one small opportunity into his big comeback. "When do you go in for your callback? Do you need a ride?"

He doesn't smile, lowering his arms from his chest. "It's, uh, more complicated than just going back to read the script. The producer....she wants me to, uh, she wants me to fuck her." He reveals, biting his lip, "she said she wants me to show her my oral skills and recreate the sex scene from my first movie."

Your own smile drops as you wait for him to tell you that he is turning down the call back. He doesn't. He just stands there waiting for you to say something. Your heart aches when you realize that everything last night was a lie. He couldn't love you, not the way that you needed him to. You don't share and Dieter Bravo is apparently willing to do anything to get back to his former status as a Hollywood star. "Congratulations." You offer flatly, turning to open the fridge so you can put the eggs inside. You're suddenly not hungry anymore.

Dieter lowers his arms, the guilt is overwhelming but this is his only chance to get back into acting. “I- I need to do this. It’s my only chance to get my life back. To get my money back. The FBI haven’t updated me and I don’t know what to do. I can’t keep mooching off of you until the day I die.”

“You’ll do what you need to do.” You had known Dieter was selfish, but this just proves that he’s not changed all that much. You take a deep breath. “You’re welcome to stay here until you get your money back, or you get paid.” You remind him before you finally turn around and meet his eyes. “But this….thing between us is over.” You decide. “I can’t be with you, with anyone, who is willing to sell his body to some producer for the chance at a starring role.

Dieter stares at you, his heart breaking, and he feels his eyes prick. Of course you don’t want him. Last night was just a fluke. He wants to support you again, he has to do this so he isn’t relying on you. It’s not fair. He wants to pull his own weight and he finally has an opportunity. “I- I finally have a chance to get my life back and you…okay. Fine. Fuck this shit. I’m gonna go to the callback. I’m gonna be a major actor again and you can go on your date with fucking golden boy Charlie.” He growls, spinning on his heel and he storms into his bedroom, slamming the door as tears stinging his eyes.

You don’t know why you are surprised, but you are. Tears slide down your cheeks as you methodically put away the rest of the groceries and shuffle to your bedroom. You hear Dieter shuffling around in his room and you bite your lip as you try not to sob. Part of you wants to be petty and remind him to shower before he fucks someone else, but you can’t, you don’t want to see him. He wants his life back, his old life, the life where you were nothing but his assistant. You close your door softly and sink down to the floor and start to cry in earnest.

****

“Welcome Mr. Bravo.” Cecilia, the producer coos as he walks into her office. He’s been anxious since he left the house. You haven’t spoken to him since that moment in the kitchen, locking yourself in your bedroom, and the guilt had gnawed at Dieter the rest of the morning. He had to use some concealer to cover up the puffy circles under his eyes. He offers the producer an Oscar winning smile and she shuts the door behind him and steps around him to lean against her desk. “You’ve got the role.” She announces.

Dieter grins, “really? Wow. Thank you. I can’t believe it. Really-”

She interrupts him but crosses her arms, “I didn’t finish, Dieter. You’ve got the role…but first, you gotta strip for me. I went to see your cock and then I want you to eat me out. Then I want to ride you.” She says like she’s ordering off a menu and Dieter is immediately uncomfortable.

For a second, he considers it. It’s just sex. He’s never thought anything of sex. It’s just a way to get off but last night with you…it was unlike anything he’s experienced. He bites his lip and she looks at him expectedly.

“Well?” She asks and he shakes his head. No career is worth ruining what he has with you. In fact, he’s found a new passion in painting and he will think about getting a new agency as an artist, not an actor.

“No. I- I can’t.” He tells Cecilia who frowns, “you can’t? Then I can’t offer you the role.” She blackmails him but he doesn’t care.

He backs away from her, thinking only of you and the heartbroken look you gave him. He can’t touch anyone else when you’ve stolen his heart. “Thanks but no thanks. Oh, and I’m gonna report you for sexual harassment.” He holds up his cell phone, using it for a rare moment to record the conservation he had with Cecilia.

“No. I, uh, I can give you the role. Just - delete the recording.”

Dieter shakes his head, finally knowing that acting is in his past. He smirks, “actually…there’s something you can do for me. My friend has a script. You’re gonna greenlight it for production, do whatever you can for it and I will delete the recording.” He offers and Cecilia nods, “fine.”

Dieter grins, hitting pause on the new recording. “Pleasure doing business with you. I’ll have the script delivered tomorrow.” He smirks, “I’ll delete the recording after I see the contract.” With that, he spins on his heel and makes his way out of her office with his dignity and excited to give you the good news.

You had heard Dieter getting ready for his casting call this morning. Swallowing down the heartbreak, you had dragged yourself out of bed and headed to work. Quiet enough that your boss had asked you what was wrong, you had told him a little lie and claimed you had a migraine. Making you feel bad because he had insisted you go home. Where you are now, curled under your freshly changed sheets - you couldn’t sleep on them again - and try to pretend that you don’t know exactly what Dieter Bravo is doing right now.

Dieter rushes through the front door, his eyes wide with excitement and he calls out your name. When you don’t respond, he knocks on your bedroom door. He knows you’re here, he saw your car. He had Ubered to the studio and back so you are home. “Sweetheart. Can I come in?” He asks.

“Go away, Dieter.” You lift your head from your pillow and call out. “I’m happy for you but I can’t celebrate with you.” Tears fill your eyes and you want to scream at him for actually coming to you after he slept with someone to get a role. Was he really so self absorbed?

He opens the door, hearing your voice crack, and he’s concerned. “Baby. What’s wrong?” He rushes over, kneeling on the bed when he sees your tear filled eyes. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He begs, cupping your cheeks

“Please.” You close your eyes and practically whimper as you turn your head away from him. “I know you’re excited, you're happy to be getting your life back - but- I can’t do this.” You choke out. “I can’t be happy that you told me you loved me and then fucked someone else.”

Dieter realizes what you think and he frantically shakes his head. "I didn't do it. I swear. I - I couldn't do it because she wasn't you. I didn't want to touch her. I turned down the role. I didn't want it if I had to do that and I don't - I decided I no longer want to be an actor. I want to be an artist. I want to paint."

It takes you a minute to process what he’s saying. Opening your eyes and turning back to him to blink in surprise. “Wha- you did?” You gasp. “You didn’t- you turned it down?” You halfway don’t believe it, knowing how much he wanted to go back to his former life. “I- really?”

He fumbles to get his phone out of his pocket, taking it out of the bag he puts it in that apparently blocks cellular waves from "his balls" and he presses play on the recording. He wants to prove to you that he's serious. He doesn't want that lifestyle anymore. He wants a home, he wants a family. He wants you.

Your jaw drops when you hear him tell the producer that he isn’t going to work with her. That he wants her to green light your script. “Dieter- I- is this for real? You’re blackmailing her for- for my script? You haven’t even read it.” You manage to get out.

He scoffs, "yes I have read it." He tells you to hold his phone and he rushes into his room, grabbing your script and he sets it down. He has been reading it at night, making notes, but it's brilliant and he knows this is your chance to make it big. "I won't be in Hollywood anymore but that doesn't mean you can't get your big break. Blackmail makes the world go round." He jokes, sitting on your bed and he sets the script in your lap.

“Dieter.” You reach out and touch the script’s cover, opening it up and seeing his loopy handwriting. “You- you’re going to leave acting behind?” You don’t understand, acting was Dieter’s entire life. It was all he had talked about since getting out of rehab.

He shrugs, “it’s no longer my passion. I’ve been, uh, painting outside while you’ve been at work and I have several pieces. I’m going to see if I can get an agent and get them displayed in a gallery. If fucking George Bush can do it, I’m sure I can.” He scoffs, “I - I want to show you a piece I just finished.” He bites his lip and shuffles off of the bed again. He walks into his bedroom to grab the canvas he painted of you, of how he sees you, and he carries it into your bedroom to display it.

You gasp, covering your mouth as you look at the canvas as he turns it around. He’s painted you and it’s….beautiful. You look almost angelic, the light in the eyes of the painting is bright and the smile loving. “Dieter- you painted this?” You ask in wonder, standing up and letting your script fall to the floor as you walk over to look closer at the canvas.

He nods, blushing at your tone, and he hopes you like it. “Uh, yeah. I, um, I just - I started it a couple of weeks after I moved in here and it’s - it’s how I see you.” He admits, his dark eyes meeting yours as you stand in front of him and he’s nervous, thinking you might hate it.

“It’s-“ Tears pool up in your eyes and start sliding down your cheeks again. “It’s so beautiful. I can’t- it’s so wonderful.” You tell him breathlessly, turning and reaching up to cup his cheek. “I can’t believe you see me like this.”

He flusters at your praise, happy you like it, and he leans into your touch. “I think you’re the most gorgeous woman I’ve ever known. You are beautiful, yes, but so kind and I - you put me in my place and I need that. You see me. The real me. Not the movie star or the sugar daddy. You see Dieter Bravo and I’ll love you forever for that.” He vows, “this is my ode to the woman I love.”

You bite your lip and lunge forward, pressing your lips to his. He turned down the sex, the role for you. He turned his back on acting for you because you know that he’s burned a bridge now. Permanently. And he put himself on the line to make your Hollywood dreams come true. “I love you, Dieter.” You promise between kisses.

He smiles, pulling back to set the canvas down before he grips your hips, pulling you flush against him. “I love you too baby. You’re gonna be amazing. A Hollywood screenwriter. That thing is Oscar worthy.” He gestures to your script before he presses his lips back to yours. “We could be an Oscar winning couple.” He jokes, kissing along your jaw.

You giggle, leaning into the fantasy for a moment. “I’ll bring you to all the red carpet events and you can be my arm candy.” You joke, knowing he do it in a heartbeat and be amazing. Dieter knows how to work a red carpet.

“Deal, baby. As long as you show me off.” He winks and reaches for you to lift you onto your bed. “Now, can I eat that pussy as a celebration for our new careers?” He hums, reaching for the waistband of your leggings but not doing anything until you say yes.

You shake your head, giggling at him and his eagerness. “Before you do, I need to tell you something.” You lean forward and cup his cheeks with both hands. “I’m proud of you for not going through it. Not sleeping with her.”

He blushes again at your praise, turning his head to kiss your palm. “I couldn't do it. Not when I kept thinking of you and how much I love you. It just - it wasn’t right and no matter what I would’ve gotten from it, it wasn’t worth losing you.” He hooks his fingers in your leggings, shifting out of your grip to pull them down. “Let me make you cum.” He pleads, almost whining, and he tosses your leggings aside after removing your shoes and he’s glad you weren’t wearing panties. He shifts to lay down between your thighs, his shoulders pushing them apart and he isn’t hesitant as he dives in to slide his tongue through your folds.

You moan softly, closing your eyes and loving how amazing that tongue is. Happy that he hadn’t used it on that producer today. “Dieter, fuck.” You whine. “Gonna keep that tongue for myself. No one else gets to have it.” You lift your legs and shift them up onto his shoulders while he settles between your thighs.

He hums in appreciation and his fingers dig into your thighs, keeping you spread so he can push his tongue deep inside of you. “Only yours.” He promises when he pulls back, smacking his lips, and he sucks your clit into his mouth.

“Dieter-” you push back on his head and he whines, unwilling to move away from you but you push his head back again. “Let me- let me sit on your face so I can suck your cock.” You beg breathlessly. You hadn’t gotten to have him in your mouth and you wanted it. You want to hear him moan for you.

“I am not going to turn that down.” He chuckles and then shifts onto his back beside you, fumbling to undo the pants he wore for the meeting and he shoves them down along with his briefs to expose his half hard cock. “Take a seat.” He pats his cheeks with a grin.

“Always wondered if this would shut you up.” You tease before you straddle his head and lower your hips to his mouth. Leaning forward so you can wrap your hand around his cock and pump him slowly while his tongue licks through your folds. “Oh fuck.” You whine, leaning in more to lick the tip of his cock.

Dieter smacks your ass, pulling you further down onto his face to practically smother him and he groans at the heat of your skin. Your mouth is heaven, hot and wet, and he struggles to not thrust his hips when you reach out to wrap your fingers around him.

Moaning around his cock, you twist your wrist and try to take him all the way down your throat. Loving the gasping pant that he breathes into your cunt, and the eager way that he sucks your clit into his mouth. Humming, you pull off his cock to lick up and down the length. “Oh fuck, so good baby.” You moan before you take him back into your mouth.

His hands are all over you, squeezing your ass, spreading your cheeks and he can’t help himself. He tilts his head so he can circle your puckered hole with his tongue, wanting to make you gasp his name.

You gasp out around his cock, pulling off of it. “Fuck, Dieter!” You cry out, eyes sliding closed and pinching tight in mortification of how good it feels. He chuckles as he flicks his tongue and you huff, sliding your hand down between his cheeks to press your own fingers against his hole while you suck on the tip of his cock.

“Oh fuck!” He groans against your ass cheek, fucking loving how you know what he wants. What he likes, without even asking. He hisses your name and surges forward to lap at your puckered hole, pushing his tongue into you before his tongue slides down to push into your cunt, alternating between each hole and his hand shifts under you so he can rub your clit with his thumb.

You pull off his cock again, sliding your fingers into your mouth to wet them before his thighs shuffle apart even more. You press against the ring of muscles, feeling it push in before it finally gives way, letting you sink your finger into him a bare inch. Making sure that you take his cock all the way down to the back of your throat while you start to pump your fingers gently inside him.

Dieter practically whines into your flesh. You’re blowing his mind and he fucking loves it. His hips buck unconsciously and he hisses your name when you push your fingers a little deeper. His tongue dives deep inside of you, his nose pressed against your ass and he wants, no needs, you to cum for him.

He’s being so good for you. Precum leaks into your mouth and you swallow it down eagerly. Rocking your hips back as much as you can while you curl your fingers up and listen to him keen into your folds. Giving him the sloppiest blow job of his life and one or two licks away from soaking his face in your cum.

He is feral, bucking up into your mouth while he sucks on your folds, his tongue dipping back into you and his thumb frantically rubs your clit. He’s so close but he needs you to cum first. He needs to hear you cum.

Your keening sound of pleasure is muffled around his cock, jaw slack as you push your hips back into his face and buck back onto his tongue. Cumming in a wave of pleasure, and squeezing his head between your thighs.

Dieter growls into your cunt, lapping up every drop you have to offer him until you take him deep down your throat, your fingers pushing deep inside of him, and it sends him over the edge. He cries into your pussy, his cock throbbing as he starts to cum down your throat.

You gulp him down as fast as you can, loving the way that he throbs in your mouth and whines when you curl your fingers up. Working him until every drop of his cum is swallowed down and you pull off his cock with a very satisfied gasp.

Dieter pants, shaking hands gripping you to try and turn you around to bring you into his chest. When you get the hint, he pulls you close and presses his lips to yours, sliding his tongue into your mouth. "I fucking love you." He groans, pulling back for a moment.

“I love you too.” You whisper softly, reaching up and caressing his cheek. “You are going to be a great artist, you are a great artist.” You murmur proudly. “And we’re going to make sure you are happy.”

Dieter smiles at you and winks. “You’re going to be happy too, you get to have me.” That makes you giggle and lean forward to press your lips to his. You do get to have him, in all his chaotic glory.

****

“Dieter! Diana, I’m home!” You rush through the door, depositing your keys and purse and laptop bag on the entryway table and kick off your shoes as you try to shed the day as quickly as possible. You’re late and even though you let him know you would be, you hate missing a second of your time at home. “Diet? Di?” You call, wondering where they are in the labyrinth you call a house, bigger than the one Dieter originally had. “Are you home?”

When you walk into the kitchen, Diana immediately rushes over to you. “Mama!” She cheers, clinging to your legs, and Dieter chuckles as he finishes the stroke on the canvas. He’s been teaching his daughter how to paint while the dinner cooks in the oven, but you are home now so he sets the brush down.

“Hey sexy mama.” He winks at you, standing up to stride over to press his lips to yours, his tongue dips into your mouth but nothing too X rated since Diana is squashed between you. “Long day at work?” He asks, kissing your jaw before he pulls back and looks down at his daughter.

You roll your eyes and nod. “Yeah, re-writes.” You huff. “The lead decided he was a better writer than me so they wanted me to rework the lines the way he wanted but then they didn’t fit, like I told them they wouldn’t.” The script that Dieter had blackmailed the producer into green lighting had been a blockbuster and now you have become a very popular name among studios.

"Fuck him." Dieter scoffs and Diana looks up at her father.

"Daddy! Bad words!" She reprimands, making him playfully roll his eyes.

"Sorry, baby girl. Daddy is gonna put a quarter in the jar." Dieter had promised Diana a new dollhouse with the money saved from the 'bad word jar' and Dieter's quarters have added up. "Dinner will be ready in a minute." Dieter tells you after he places a coin in the jar and he pours you a glass of wine. He's become quite the cook, making all sorts of dishes to an almost expertise level. "My agent called. Someone wants to buy the painting before I even finish it." He announces, pulling the lasagna out of the oven.

“Baby, that’s great!” You come over and kiss Dieter’s cheek so you don’t make him drop the lasagna. When you had gotten pregnant, Dieter had decided that he wanted to stay home, be a stay-at-home dad. Arguing that his little girl shouldn’t have to have a nanny all the time and he could paint around her schedule. You had fallen in love with him even more when you saw how committed he was to your daughter and the life you are creating, although he still lets a housekeeper come in and scrub the toilets. “That makes the fifth painting sold this year!”

Dieter blushes, proud of himself, and he sets the dish down, dishing out three servings and he sets the plates down at the kitchen table. "Dinner, baby girl." He tells Diana and he places his wine glass down as well as the glass of juice for Diana. He looks at you as you sit down and he feels a sudden rush of happiness. He never imagined he'd get to have a life like this. He was lost in the drugs and depression and anxiety but he's happy now, sober, and living a life he never imagined he could have.

He lifts his glass up towards you, "to a beautiful life." You grin, understanding what he means when you clink your glass against his. Diana moans, holding up her own glass and Dieter chuckles, clinking his glass against hers before you follow suit. He has everything he never knew he wanted and he wouldn't change it for the world...especially not for an acting career.

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