#this list will never be complete good god new ideas come to me all the time it is both a blessing and a curse

[blkkizzat]

@ 𝙭𝙓𝘿𝙞𝙜𝙞𝙂𝙤𝙙69𝙓𝙭 𝙞𝙣𝙫𝙞𝙩𝙚𝙨 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙩𝙤 𝙥𝙡𝙖𝙮...

AND GOD KNOWS I'M TRYIN', BUT THERE'S JUST NO USE IN DENYING... ❤︎︎︎︎ THE OTAKU IS MINE ❤︎︎

⏯︎︎ OTAKU!GOJO X BIMBO!READER SERIES

bunny, how on earth did you end up dating this huge otaku nerd? urgh, you actually like him and match his freak too? and he buys you what?! omg! what will your friends think?!

⏯︎︎ 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐒 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘

𖦏 genre: college au

𖦏 ratings: 18+MDNI. unprotected, ecchi gojo, dubcon, cnc, bdsm, puppy play, public sex, creampies, spanking, sugar daddy/baby dynamics, edging, squirting, threesums, femdom, the ridiculous ass pervy pet names gojo gives you & reader is called 'bunny' in lieu of 'y/n'. each story will have warnings on its story page.

𖦏 pre register: comment to be tagged. i may not respond to everyone but rest assured if you comment you will be tagged!

𖦏 gamer's guide: all fics are listed in chronological order, but likely won't be written in chronological order. summaries subject to change slightly. they also will be written over time so please don't rush me for the next installment but feel free to ask me questions i love talking about this lil freak❤︎︎

⏯︎︎ 𝐌𝐀𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘:

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟏: ❝ DIGIMON—BUT MAKING U CUM IS MY REAL HOBBY! ❞

𖦏 your best friend gojo is a hopeless otaku virgin with zero rizz that's still obsessed with digimon—despite being a grown ass man. you're a slut who despite her best whoring efforts—can't cum. you'll take his v-card and he'll fix your broken pussy, deal? ⏯︎︎ plays: 13.3k

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟐: ❝ STICKS N' STONES MAY BREAK MY BONES BUT CHAINS N' WHIPS EXCITE ME! ❞

𖦏 so now that you have a filthy rich boyfie who is completely obsessed with you and has moved you into his house, you're winning, right? or you will be at least— if can survive a trip to the sex dungeon. don't worry it's professionally sanitized after each use! ...what? that's not what you're worried about? oh... ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟑: ❝ AND ALL OF THAT WAS OKAY, CAUSE IT WAS IN A 3-WAY!❞

𖦏 the three of you: you, gojo and geto are like peas in a pod, especially since its summer! and if two of you start f*cking in that pod well its only natural that the third want to join in, right? besides, you both already want to f*ck him. just make sure your current boyfie doesn't get too jealous from how hard you are moaning on your other besties' joystick. your only his ecchi angel, remember? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟒: ❝ IN THE BEDROOM I BE SCREAMIN', BUT OUTSIDE I KEEP IT QUIET—OR TRY TO AT LEAST!❞

𖦏 you can only keep your relationship underwraps from the rest of your friend group for so long. but you need to ease them into the idea first! although, when there's a yacht party for nanami's bday how is your uber clingy otaku boyfie supposed to keep his hands off of you when you're looking like the most perfect pervy princess in that itty bitty swimsuit? ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟓: ❝ YEAH, HE MY MAN, HE WAS NEVER YO TYPE! ❞

𖦏 school is back! thankfully you somehow manage to instill some kind of decency into your otaku boyfie over the summer so he can come across as normal enough to make his own friends. but did you do too good of a job? wait, he actually has a lil rizz now? you mean you aren't the only girl attracted to him anymore... hol'up! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

𝐥𝐯𝐥 𝟔: ❝ MOVE IT UP, DOWN, LEFT, RIGHT, OH—SWITCH IT UP LIKE NINTENDO! ❞

𖦏 hey, when did you become freaker than your otaku boyfie? so he caught you touching yourself to his femdom p0rn when he came back early from a business trip? yikes! now he wants to try it out with you? don't worry you will do a great job training your new play puppy boyfie! ⏯︎︎ plays: lvl in-progress

⏯︎︎ 𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒:

𖦏 soundtrack: [ x ] 𖦏 moodboards: [ lvl 1 ] 𖦏 amazing art by amazing readers: [ x ] 𖦏 faq/thirsts: [ x ]

©𝐛𝐥𝐤𝐤𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐚𝐭 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐚𝐥 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐠���𝐱, 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞.︎︎

[thewritetofreespeech]

aemond - prompt 1

Prompt list - 1. Breeding kink

------------------------------⚔️---------------------------------

“Up! Up!”

“Up! Up!”

“Hehe…you’re both too big now for me to carry the both of you on my hip like before. Why don’t we flip a coin then? Heads Jaehaerys you can go first, and tails means Jaehaera can go. Sound like a fun game?”

Aemond watched from the table with his family as his wife made a deal with his niece & nephew. Completely fair. Void of favoritism. He remembers no such favors from his own childhood.

His wife was wonderful with the children. As one of the few Helaena let near them in recent months, due to some new fear she had concocted in her mind, Jaehaera & Jaehaerys clung to her like shadows. Even Maelor, still at his mother’s breast, would swing his fat little arms in his wife’s direction every time she passed. And she never missed an opportunity to give him attention or affection whenever he, or any of the children, clamored for her.

“Everything alright Aemond?”

His trance was broken by her words when she returned to him. Whatever deal or game they had struck over now as a nurse came to put the children to bed. Aemond nodded. Dreams of his own silver-haired babes following her around, tugging at her skirts, in need of constant attention from that sweet face drift out of his mind like dragon’s wings on the horizon. “Yes. I am fine. Let us retire for the evening as well.”

The sun would be up soon. He couldn’t see it from the window, but just felt it in his soul. That time of night that was more the wee hours of the morning. Where the darkness would finally break to the light.

They haven’t slept at all. Rested, but not slept. Sleep seemed immaterial in comparison to the need to fill her again & again. Sleep, water, food, air. All of it seemed trivial as he was a man possessed with possessing her.

“Aemond….please….no more….”

“Just once more.”

His wife whined as his cock still inside her slid back and into her again. One bout giving way to another with truly no rest in between this time.

He was consumed with making his dream a reality. Fill her with so much of him that his child would have no choice but to take root in her belly. They could have a babe come spring. Or a sweet summer child with his pale violet eyes and his mother’s gentle disposition. Aemond thrust harder into her, as if driving the idea home with his cock, making his wife cry out. “Ah! Aemond! Oh Gods!”

She wouldn’t have to take care of Aegon’s children anymore. She would have her own babes to keep her busy. They would be strong and perfect. In constant need of their mother like he was. Maybe she would give him twins like Helaena gave his brother? If his fragile sister could do it, surely his wife could do it too. Judging by the cum spilling out of her onto the already soiled sheets, Aemond had given her more than enough opportunity.

“Aemond….Aemond….”

She couldn’t say much more than his name now and moan. Good. There shouldn’t be any thought of others or anything but the two of them as they made their child.

He looked down at the woman who was going to give him his future and found a blank slate there. Broken with pleasure. Those intelligent, bright eyes black and hazy with lust. Disheveled to the point of madness by his own mad need to put a babe inside her.

He leaned down to kiss her rough, swollen lips and swallowed a whine from his princess. He felt her breath quicken against his lips and her walls quake around him. Her overstimulated body climaxing with even the most minor addition of stimuli between them at this point.

Aemond came just short after that. One final push. Spilling his seed just as deep as the rest before he finally, eventually, let his wife go.

He fell to the other side of the bed, listening to her gasp for breath beside him, before he got up and went to retrieve a rag for the two of them. His wife hiccupped out a gasp when the cool material touched her feverous skin. Her whole-body twitching as it was still too overstimulated to determine how the touch was intended. Aemond cleaned her body starting with her arms. Moving down to her breasts, imagining them larger and fuller in just 4 moons time, then down to her belly that would do just the same. She whined when he gently wiped at her overly sensitive cunt. Red and swollen. His seed still glistening in the folds. He doesn’t want to get rid of it but knows she would be uncomfortable sleeping like that. Aemond had already made her uncomfortable enough for one evening.

He cleaned himself off with much less care and crawled back into bed beside his wife. She willingly came to him when he pulled her in his arms. Or perhaps she was too exhausted to think and just went along with him. Her body still twitching now & then, even in her sleep, from the frenzy he just put her through.

He kissed her head, then covered them with whatever clean blanket he could find.

Come spring they would have a child of their own. A silver haired paragon, who would take Vhagar after he was gone and be his legacy for when his bones became ash. After that, they would work on another. Then another. Then another. His branch would flourish as much as his great-grandfather, and they would build their family to the point that they did not need any others but their own.

He almost felt bad for Jaehaera & Jaehaerys. Soon they would not have their wonderful aunt to dote on them. But his children, and his family, would be what came first.

[missglaskin]

Yan!HOTD Characters as Greek Gods

I want to thank @aphroditelovesu for giving me the inspiration, also side note do not take the gods canonical relationships literally

Viserys as Hades + God of the Underworld and the Dead

Viserys was a god who stood out from the gloomy darkness of his realm. The seat once shared by his beloved wife is now long dead with all the other souls. No temples were erected in his honor on the earthly soil, for the underworld served as his shrine. Still, Viserys lent many of his powers and crafts to help the other gods defeat their enemies, either it be a monster or a titan. When he needed to see his family, he would emerge to the earth itself. There a moral caught his eye. 

Viserys spent a great deal of time observing your everyday life. He enjoyed catching on to all your little habits and tendencies. The god was prepared to wait until your life's string came to an end. In the mean time, all good things came your way. While he wouldn't be able to stop your death from happening, he can certainly make it as peaceful and painless as possible. Viserys will welcome you with the greatest warmth when you arrive in his realm, and you will be surrounded by servants who will carry out your every wish.

Just as he has done all those other times Viserys will give you the time and space you need to adjust to this new, strange world. Desiring your happiness, Viserys might let you visit Earth but only for a short time. The god can't go too long without you by his side. He detests the idea of using coercion to get what he wants, but Viserys must make sure you never leave him. It is a blessing that you are a mortal, completely unaware of the pomegranate seeds that are given to you.

Daemon as Ares + God of War and Courage 

It was Daemon, out of all the gods, who was most frowned upon, the one with the endless list of foes. Many came to fear him and they had every reason to. For Daemon was a powerful god-quick to anger and raring for a fight regardless of the consequences. A jest spread among the gods was that Daemon's one and only true love was war itself. But what a shock it was to see the mortal in the god's arms. With his remarks and the severe violence he inflicted upon the mortals, Daemon, again and again demonstrated nothing but contempt and superiority over them.

Why you attracted the god of war's attention will forever remain a mystery. Could it be you had a fire inside of you that never went out or you had such a gentle soul that the god saw it as his duty to ruin you, or perhaps he saw you as a fair trade for one of his victories. Truthfully, Daemon himself is not fully sure what drew him to you. Still, the god comes to you, luring you in with lavish gifts and words sweet as honey. And if you aren’t compliant, the god sees no issue picking you up while you struggle to free yourself-screaming and clawing. 

Daemon has no care for what other Olympian deities thought when he kept you near him. They were already not fond of him and he was amused to no end to see their frustration, even having you displayed seated on his lap. Your life with Daemon is strangely not as dull and miserable as one might anticipate. He will always be rough and harsh, but you are shown a rare side of gentleness. You may never know if the god truly loves you, but you can be sure that if someone takes what he views as his, he will go to war a hundred times over it.

Rhaenyra as Athena + Goddess of Wisdom and War

Rhaenyra is a goddess with pride. A great warrior. Rhaenyra does not, however, hold humankind in such low regard as the many gods who came before her. She saw herself as their protector and rewarded those who came to worship in her temple. But it's not as if she isn't dangerous. The goddess is unmerciful in her use of curses. Any offense or insult will result in a terrible fate. And what fate bestows upon you when the goddess herself watches you. Desiring you from the very moment she caught sight of you. 

She is a master of disguise. Every word she spoke enticed you further and further into her grasp. There were the fleeting touches the goddess made to your skin to pique your desire. Her lips were painted with a smile that lowered your guard. You find yourself becoming a puppet as Rhaenyra hovers over you, pulling the strings to speak the words she wants you to hear, to touch her how she wants to be touched, and look at her how she wants to be gazed upon. 

Rhaenyra never wants you to leave her realm. The goddess is ready to gift you whatever your heart desires, but the earth is no longer a place you can call home. Rhaenyra will never lay a hand on you; gentle and soft with you. The only times you no longer see your lover but the goddess of war is if you are foolish enough to believe you can get away from her. She won’t understand. Has she not dedicated herself to you. Has she not given you every ounce of her heart. Whatever the reason is, your place remains by her side and she will make sure you know of this.

Rhaenys as Hecate + Goddess of Magic and the Moon

Rhaenys, the goddess of sorcery and the moon, who her domain also extends to creatures of the night; particularly hounds and ghosts. She’s often seen accompanied by her black hounds, donning a long robe, holding burning torches. Neither was she evil, nor was she wholly benevolent, but she did reveal her nature through actions, rewarding loyalty among her followers. Captivated by your presence in her temple, the goddess of sorcery was drawn to your compassion and innocence. She found herself spending more time just observing you, enchanted by how your features glowed in the gentle embrace of moonlight. 

Rhaenys has always been confident and assertive, when she’s certain that she desires you, she’ll do whatever it takes to have you by her side. However, she’ll stray away from using force. If she’ll seek your companionship, Rhaenys resolutes in waiting it be your choice, to love her the same rather than do it with instilling fear in you. Her introduction was gradual, allowing you to adapt in time to her presence. Much of this is involved in simple conversations, where she enjoys getting to know the little details of your life (even if she already knew most of it). 

Instead of overwhelming you with extravagant gifts, she opted for small trinkets. And adding to the ease of your connection, Rhaenys’s mystical hounds display a fondness for you, allowing you to pet them. Even when you remain in her domain, Rhaenys remains steadfast in not forcing you to love her. She has all the patience as the goddess begins to slowly express her affection more openly with gentle caresses to your face as she presents you with more lavish gifts. Her patience was rewarded seeing how eager you are to spend every moment with her.

Corlys as Poseidon + God of the Sea and Waters

Not only was Corlys the god of the seas but also associated with earthquakes and horses. He stood out as a highly ambitious deity and known for his unwavering loyalty to Mount Olympus. Unlike some deities, Corlys is willing to engage with mortals, after all, they have a dependence on the seas for trade and travel. However, it’s also known that when dealing with the god of the sea, do not try to trick or cross him, for he has demonstrated a vengeful nature when felt insulted. 

It was during your many ventures near the beach, having a profound love and fascination for the sea that you encountered the god of the sea. In your frequent visits, the shores yielded treasures ranging from the most beautiful seashells to even a literal pearl, a gift from the god. Upon making his presence known, Corlys takes matters into his own hands. Taking you to the temple beneath the sea as he cannot rely on chance encounters by the shore and it’ll save him all the trouble of finding you if you choose to never visit again. 

Your place from now on remains with Corly’s temple. He has made promises to make you visit the shore from time to time once he’s confident you won’t attempt an escape. Eager to please, Corlys has an allure of lost treasures within his home, offering you any if you desire. He also takes great care to ensure your comfort, harboring no intention of causing harm or raising his voice. His desire is clear- to have you willingly at his side. 

Laena as Aphrodite + Goddess of Love and Beauty

Laena was more than just being thegoddess of beauty and love; she was one of fertility, pleasure, and eternal youth. Occasionally she presided over marriage. Legends went so far as to attribute her beauty to being the cause of the Trojan War. Despite her being desired and adored by everyone, even capturing the affections of the infamous god of war himself, Laena's heart chose you; a mortal who didn’t seem all that extraordinary. But none of that mattered to the goddess of love, who found herself drawn to you, desiring nothing more than for you to share her boundless love and adoration. 

When Laena first approached you, she displayed no hesitation in expressing her clear intentions of wanting to court you. Doves and sparrows seemed to fly around you. In the vicinity of your home, myrtles and roses bloomed abundantly and Laena took it upon herself to personally hand you the blossoms, alongside the most marvelous seashells. Whenever you expressed gratitude or attempted to deny her gifts out of politeness, Laena would firmly assure you that you deserved nothing but the best. As she would engage in conversations, Laena would hold your gaze, running her fingers on your cheek or shoulder with such tenderness. 

Even after you became hers, Laena never stops showering you with praise and luscious gifts. The dresses she adorned you with were among the most lavish you had ever seen, and men would certainly go to war for the jewelry that adorned your skin. And for her home, which she claims is now your home too, she’s willing more than anything to accommodate any of your demands to make it all the more welcoming. Whether it’s placing all your favorite books or presenting you all your favorite foods. After all, you’re destined to spend the rest of your life with her.  

Otto as Zeus + God of the Sky and Thunder 

Otto stood as the god among gods, the force behind the establishment of order and justice in Olympus. It was his duty as king, to reign and ensure harmony throughout the divine realm. He had a number of children; it counted those that were outside of his marriage. Mortals and gods alike collectively averted their gaze, as the god of thunder desired to maintain an image of a prudent and a pious. And while like any god, he considered himself above mortal beings, he would observe them with keen interest. 

Unfortunate for you, if you happened to catch his eye, resisting him was a futile endeavor. It began with him orchestrating ways to make your life more comfortable — discovering the lushest trees near your home, bearing the most delectable fruits you'd ever savor. An eagle, acting as his messenger, would shower you with all sorts of gifts, from fragrant olive oils to delicate silver coins and ivory trinkets. The weather seemed to dance to his whims, birds serenading under the radiant sun.

It was also his way to signal his presence, a silent acknowledgment a being beyond the mortal realms was watching. And when his presence becomes known, he vows to treasure you for eternity (hinting at what’ll become of your mortal life). It’s difficult to deny him with all the myriad blessings he bestowed upon you. Once you’re brought to his home, he will present you with a luxurious silk robe and servants who dutifully follow your every command. Even if you resist, his determination remains unswayed. As a god, time was his ally and he believed in due course, you would succumb to his temptations.

Alicent as Hera + Goddess of Marriage and Childhood

Alicent stood as the embodiment of matrimony and domestic life, a revered figure to whom women turned in prayer for the blessings of harmonious marriages, the safe return of their husbands, and in hopes of birthing a healthy child. Despite her attempts to project a demure demeanor, the goddess had a silent reputation for her jealousy and occasional vengefulness. Alicent had divine authority, navigating the intricate game of politics and perhaps that was why no one dared to question her decision to bring a mortal being along.  

It was all under the reason of needing a servant though you were not yet married, still, no one dared to voice it. As her supposed servant, you were strangely exempt from menial tasks such as washing clothes or scrubbing the floor; such duties were deemed beneath you. Instead, the majority of your days were spent in the company of the goddess. You found yourself dressing and brushing Alicent’s hair as she shared her grievances about the perceived foolishness surrounding her court. 

Your time was further consumed by tending to Hera’s children and grandchildren, and her strictures extended to where you were not permitted to eat meals with other servants. In truth, the goddess had little need for another servant. But you a mortal, had sought her prayer, coming to her temple wishing for a happy life for the arrangement your parents orchestrated for you. But Alicent had been watching you long before and you have become the object of her desire. She promised to find you a suitor but the intensity of her gaze and the uncanny resemblance between the necklace of hers and the one she gifted you hints at something beyond that. 

Aegon II as Dionysus + God of Wine and Pleasure 

Aegon is known for seemingly lazy nature and rarely being seen sober, he’s notorious for the wild parties and dramatic theaters he orchestrates. The many lovers he has are ones that no one bothers to learn their names, as they typically don’t linger beyond a day. The few bastards he fathered are not accounted for. When the god of wines comes upon you, there was an unmistakable eagerness to have you in his bed. While you and others are at no fault to assume that it was driven solely by lust, you soon find it unraveled beyond that. 

As a mortal, the prospect of rejecting a god was not a reasonable one. His presence was suffocating with a possessive jealousy over your interactions with others and an incessant need for you to be near him. At times, he would pull you into his lap, craving for your affection and praise. Besides his constant need to have you share his bed at every turn, his lingering hands, and wanting your every attention, it’s not as terrible as one initially assumes. 

The god of wine provided you with the sweetest food, accompanied of course by his signature wine. He adorned you in exquisite clothing, though in the privacy of his chambers, they were far more revealing and sheer. While it was somewhat accepted to have fleeting lovers for a day, appearing with you by his side on every occasion garnered disapproval from the other gods. However, Aegon was indifferent; no stranger to being considered a disappointment. You were the one thing he was sure of, even harboring a secret desire to make you immortal, hoping you don’t notice how different your wine tastes.

Helaena as Persephone + Goddess of Seasons and Vegetation

Helaena possessed a kind of gentleness that was unusual among the gods. She carried herself with such grace and consideration. Helaena grew up to be a lovely woman who caught the interest of gods and humans alike. With mortals, the goddess did not look down on them. If anything, Helaena seemed to see the goodness and beauty in them despite all of their flaws. It therefore comes as no great surprise when the goddess seems so enchanted by you-a simple mortal. 

Helaena spent many days watching you. She possessed unending patience. What a fascinating sight you are. Deemed by the goddess to be the most beautiful being to ever walk this earth. Helaena cared nothing more than your happiness hence why you come home to a plethora of gifts and trinkets. It could be the most delicious fruit you've ever eaten or a dress the goddess sewed herself. And wherever you are, you found plants growing all around that never seem to wither-fruits and vegetables you never imagined would ever grow there.

Helaena was content as long as she could see you every day. Even if she couldn't speak or stand before you. All that mattered to her was to see your lovely smile as you open her gifts or to hear your joyful laughter. But shall you wish to meet her. Shall you seem unsatisfied with your life. Helaena will make her presence known. The goddess is nothing but a tender lover. Giving you all the time you need to adjust to her realm. Happy to watch from a distance and just speak with you.

Aemond as Apollo - God of Sun and Art

Aemond was also a god of music, truth, and healing, he was considered wise even at such a relatively young age. He enjoyed writing poems and believed in law and order. Unlike his brother, Aemond was recognized for his numerous contributions, particularly in the realms of medicine and prophecy. Aemond shows intense loyalty to his family and a great love for his mother but also is known for his jealousy and a wrathful nature; particularly when he perceives insults directed at his family or either himself. 

Many of your actions could’ve caught his eye, your visits to his temple, your singing voice echoing through the fields, how you immersed yourself far away from everyone else with the books you read. He doesn’t wish to frighten you,  guided by a gentle approach to engage you in conversations. You can feel his gaze follow you, a silent presence that seems to accompany your every move. In due time, Aemond would express his desire for you to be his lover, to not only give him your body, but your mind and soul. Even if you do not share his feelings, denying him is not advisable, Aemond is not one for rejections. 

Even if you were to deny him, Aemond would still bring you to Mount Olympus, introducing you to the other gods, making sure you understood that your place belonged with him. And while he attempts to give you some space, the god of the sun cannot bring himself to stay away. Aemond sought to spend every moment of the day with you, from sharing the same bed, to waking together to sharing meals. He yearns to hear your every thought from the flowers you liked to your opinion on the poetry he’s dedicated to you.

Criston as Heracles + Demi- God of Strength and Heroes

Criston was born a mortal. Yet even as a child, Criston showed such strength and courage unmatched by any other. He has proven to be a fierce warrior over the years. While he was hailed as a hero, many of his rage-fueled actions beg to differ. It took Criston to die to be reborn as the Demi-god. Taken from the flames to Mount Olympus where he was granted eternal youth and the right to live among the gods. He was offered a goddess, but Criston had his eyes set somewhere else.

Criston believes he must protect you. That you need him far more than he needs you. You are just a mere mortal. One fall can be fatal. Doesn't matter that his involvement could be the very reason your life is at forfeit. Makes no difference the many times you struggle and try to escape him. Criston holds you in his arms, repeating the same mantra over and over. That you have a need for him. That he must shield you from all those who will harm you. He rarely leaves your side, and no amount of begging or insults will convince him to do so.

As your lover, you have a man capable of crushing a village to ruins, capable of winning against an army. You bring out the worst in him, the madness. A madness seen in the mere thought of you being in another’s arms. Criston won't accept the possibility of your death. He was blessed with the gift of immortality and will stop at nothing to grant you the same blessing. A wonderful thought to him, but a nightmare to you. Given the chaos that will be left behind, the gods may grant him his wish.

[thore-lb]

SHOWTIME INCORECT QUOTES

This has been on my mind all week and I want to get it out of my system.

Caine: What is something that goes up but never comes down?

Pomni: The amount of stress you bring to my life.

Caine: My love for you-… Wait what?!

Pomni: Hey Gangle, what are you writing?

Gangle: A fanfic.

Pomni: About…

Gangle: You and Caine.

Pomni: W-what?!… W-why?!

Gangle: Because Caine asked me…and is paying me for it.

Caine: I TOLD YOU TO KEEP THAT ANONYMOUS!

Caine: I have an idea.

Pomni: Oh no.

Caine: it's a good one this time, i swear.

Caine: I have to go.

Pomni: You're not forgetting something.

Caine: Hmmm…*He approaches and gives her a kiss*

Pomni: *Blushing*  I-I was referring to your cane.

Pomni: Do you know a tongue twister?

Caine: Yes, my tongue.

Pomni: That's not a tongue twi..-Hmmph!

Pomni: Jeeze I'm so tired.

Caine: Do you know why you're so tired?

Pomni: Yes because I-

Caine: Because you've been running around in my head all day.

Pomni: Ouch.

Caine: What's wrong?

Pomni: I bit my tongue.

Caine: Do you want a kiss to make it better?

Pomni:..Yes.

Caine: You… have a cute face. I mean a very pretty face. A gorgeous face.

Pomni:Uhh.. Thank you?

Caine: *Blushing heavily* Oh please accept my clumsy attempts at flirting before I die of embarrassment, I don't know what I'm doing.

Pomni: It's funny how when you fall in love with someone, you start noticing these little quirks and habits that they have and you just pick them up and memorize them.

Ragatha: Like which ones?

Pomni: Like… *Gives a detailed and complete list of the quirks and habits that Caine has*.

Ragatha: Uhh Pomni…

Pomni: Yes?

Ragatha: Did you hear what you just said? Because I have news for you.

Pomni: Uhh, yes What do you want from-… *Sudden understanding* Oh my God I'm in love with Caine *Blushes hard*

Ragatha: *Inner voice* Finally.

Pomni: *Staps pinky toe* Oh Damn!

Caine: You know the rules, Put money in the swear jar. *Drinks his coffee*

Pomni: Judging by what you did last night, you should put money in the sin jar.

Caine: *Spits coffee*

Pomni: When you said you did magic in bed this wasn't exactly what I expected.

Caine: *Pulling out an ace of hearts* Is this your card?

Pomni: Shocked Oh my god, yes.

*Pomni enters the house with Caine hanging*

Caine: I LOVE YOU POMnI!!! I LOVE YOOOOOOOUU I L-O-V-E Y-O-U… I LOVE YOU~

Ragatha: Oh my god, what happened to him?

Pomni: They pulled out his wisdom teeth, he's still under the effect of anesthesia.

Caine: I love you Pom

n sooo much~ , let's have hundreds of clown babies~ *Snuggles up to his neck*

Pomni: Oh my god.

Caine: Do you know why I called you?

Pomni: Because I sent you that inappropriate photo by accident?

Caine: *Serving two glasses of wine* Accident?

[absurdthirst]

Evidence of a Date {Tim Rockford x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 10.3k

Warnings: SEX POLLEN(ish), snuff films, power of suggestion, hypnosis, compulsory need to fuck, rough sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, oral sex (male and female receiving)

Comments: Asked to assist Detective Rockford with finding evidence on a supposed snuff tape, you find it to be very different from what either one of you were expecting. Leading you to some surprising outcomes.

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers

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|| MasterList || Tim Rockford 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.

Getting called into the Captain’s office is never a good thing. No matter how clean you keep your nose or what rank you are, even as a Detective. “You wanted to see me, sir?” Knocking and opening the door, you are surprised to see Rockford sitting in a chair opposite the captain’s desk. 

“Come in, shut the door.” He waves you in and your stomach twists, wondering what the hell is going on. You’ve worked with Tim before, but not recently. You’ve been too busy with your own caseload. “I need you to do something for me.” Captain Carnell is a no bullshit man, a pragmatist who hated sitting behind a desk. “Tim’s got a video he needs to go through, evidence.” You frown slightly, unsure why that should have any impact on you. “It’s a snuff film, supposedly and the forensic team refuses to touch it.” He grumbles and you still don’t quite understand. 

Tim shuffles awkwardly. “I need to watch it. And I need another set of eyes.” Your head turns towards him. “You can keep your mouth shut, unlike 90% of the others around here.” It’s true, cops like to gossip and if it is a snuff film, the details need to be kept quiet while the investigation is ongoing. 

“I see. And that’s why you called me in?” You ask the captain. 

“Yes.” Carnell nods. “Tim asked if your cases could be transferred and you to help him on this, and I think it’s a good idea. That way there’s no talk of sexism if the case goes nowhere.” 

You nod. “Of course.” You agree, not sure if you’re dreading watching the video or spending all your time with Tim more. It’s hard working with someone that you are hopelessly attracted to and know that it’s unrequited. “I’ll move my cases over to Robertson and we can get on the case right away.”

Your captain nods, “excellent. After closing time, go to the break room. He’s secured the room so it will be just you two.” Tim nods, crossing his arms and you glance between the two men. “Go back to your paperwork. Half an hour…the office will be closed up after everyone heads out and you can get started.” 

You nod and Tim shuffles a little as he exits the office, holding the door open for you. “Thanks for helping with this. It’s - it could be the breakthrough we need and I know it’s gonna be hard to watch but I’m glad you’re helping me with it.” Tim says quietly as you stand in the hallway before you get to the bullpen.

“It’s okay.” You don’t know what to expect. Hopefully it’s not too gory, you have been to plenty of crime scenes, but you had hoped to go to a party tonight after work. Even if you stay late to work on the case, you could get there later. “We’ll watch the tape and then make any notes before we go back through it again.”

Tim nods, reaching out to squeeze your upper arm. He can’t help but think you look gorgeous today. Well, every day really but you’d never want him. He’s older. He’s divorced and has a ten year old son. He’s got baggage and you deserve the world. With a sigh, he makes his way back to his desk, eager to finish the work day to spend time with you. God, he’s pathetic. He’s desperate to spend time with you. Even if it means watching a snuff tape. The day seems to drag by and finally he sees his colleagues starting to pack up and he wipes his hands on his pants, glancing across the room to your desk.

Your cases have been passed off you and endured the grumbling, telling Robertson to talk to the captain if he had a problem with it. Finishing up some paperwork while you wait for everyone else to go home. “You leaving?” One of the other detectives comes by your desk on his way out. 

“No.” You shake your head and look down at your file. “Backlog of paperwork. Captain’s on my ass about it.” You know most of them have every intention of heading down to the bar for happy hour. “Drink a beer for me though, okay?”

Tim is asked the same thing except he got waggled eyebrows as most of them know about his crush on you…everyone except you apparently. He sighs and pushes back from his desk after everyone is gone. “You want a coffee before we get started? I’ve got…something to add if you want to take the edge off.” He says, pulling out a small flask as he looks at you.

“Detective Rockford.” You sound scandalized, but you grin as you pick up your coffee cup. “Absolutely.” You laugh as you start to walk towards the break room. “At least if we can’t go for happy hour, we can brace ourselves for what is to come.” You tell him, emptying out the sludge in the pot and setting it to make a fresh batch. Lord only knows how long you will end up staying. “So where did you get this tape from?”

Tim sits down and sets the flask down on the little coffee table in front of the sofa in the break room. He’s slept on the sofa before. Especially when he was trying to crack the case of the old woman who was murdered for her inheritance. It kept him up all night and he ended up sleeping in the office a few times while looking over the case. “I have an inside contact. He’s looking for immunity and he left me a copy of the tape. Some mafia bullshit…it’s heavy. Supposedly.” He tells you, watching you make the coffee.

“So don’t plan on wanting to eat, got it.” You frown, deciding it was a stupid idea to ask Tim if he wanted to go out to that little dinner down the road from your apartment anyway. You were work colleagues, not romantically linked. “As long as it’s not a kid, I’ll be fine.” You admit softly, looking up from where you are pouring sugar and creamer in your cup to get it ready for the coffee. “I hate when it’s kids. I can’t imagine how you feel, having your son.”

Tim shakes his head, rubbing his cheek. “That - any kid - it kills me. Wondering what I’d do…how id feel if someone - I think you’d be locking me up because I’d burn the fucking world if something happened to Billy.” Tim confesses and you come over to the sofa with your cup and a cup for him. “Thanks sweetheart.” He says, grabbing the remote. He doesn’t call you sweetheart in front of the other guys but you’ve always been close to his heart. “You ready?” He asks you, wanting to make sure you’re mentally prepared.

It’s almost embarrassing how much you enjoy when he calls you sweetheart, not taking offense to it at all. It’s almost like an endearment and you cherish it. “I’m ready.” You tell him after taking a deep breath, knowing you need to be professional.

He grabs the flask, pouring a generous amount of whiskey in each mug before he sets it down. “Just to take the edge off.” He says before he takes a sip and hits play on the tape. He’s tense beside you, waiting to see the gruesome scene unfold.

"I hope that we don't have to finish the flask and go find a bottle." You murmur as you immediately take a large sip of your doctored coffee. Enjoying the slight burn before a naked woman walks into the view of the camera. Obviously set up in some kind of bedroom. "Well, fuck." You hiss. "It's gonna be one of those snuff films."

Tim shifts awkwardly as the woman comes over to the camera, her tits swaying as she adjusts it before she steps back and a man appears behind her. “Yeah. I, uh, I wasn’t told that this was - yeah. Sorry.” He blushes slightly, knowing he’s secretly wondered what you look like naked more than enough times.

"It's okay." You take another sip of your coffee before you look over at Tim for a split second, eyes flying back to the tv. You watch as the man starts to massage the woman's tits. "It's not like I've never watched porn before." You tell him, wanting him to relax slightly. "Caucasian female, approximately mid to late twenties, brown hair, Caucasian male, mid forties, short blond hair." You observe. "It looks like there is a tattoo on his left bicep."

Tim had completely forgotten to take any notes, his mind shamefully thinking about you naked and him behind you palming your tits. He leans forward, clasping his hands together to force himself to pay attention. He watches the couple fondle each other and he feels guilty that you’re having to watch this. “I- I’m not sure if he’s the one that gets killed.” Tim says, paying attention as the man’s hand slides down to rub the clit of the woman.

"Most snuff films, it's the woman who's murdered." You huff quietly, biting your lip and frowning slightly when the screen flashes for a split second. "I-" you shake your head, afraid you might have just imagined it. The woman's moan hadn't stopped so you just continue to watch. Your cunt bottoms out when the man slaps her pussy and then starts to rub again, his other hand still toying with her right nipple. "He's left-handed?" You ask, not quite sure but it's a strong theory. "Most often men finger a woman with their dominant hand."

“This is supposed to be the tape of the victim.” Tim says, trying to work through the evidence despite his cock twitching, suddenly aroused and he puts that down to being close to you.

You hum and lean in, trying to pretend the foreplay in the video isn't erotic, or you aren't getting turned on. It's natural, that's what you are trying to convince yourself of. That your panties would be soaked already if you were just watching a normal porn, alone in your room where you could pretend your hand was Tim's. Clearing your throat, you swear you see the screen flash again, but the audio doesn't stop.

Tim swears he saw something flash on the screen but he doesn’t bother telling you. He is trying to conceal his rapidly hardening cock. Sweat starts to bead on his forehead and he wipes it with the back of his hand. “I - this isn’t a normal snuff tape.” He murmurs, confused as the man pushes his fingers into the woman, her moan echoing in the break room as the image flashes on screen again and he pays attention. “You see that?” He asks, curious if you’ve seen it.

You gasp, but you don't know if it's from the fact that Tim might have seen the same flashes you have, or from how warm you are getting. How your entire body seems to be lighting up, aching for someone, Tim, to touch you. "I- yes?" You almost ask as you try to keep from moaning quietly.

“What - What does it say?” He asks, wondering if you’ve seen it better than he did and he tugs on his tie, loosening it and undoing the top button. Suddenly overheated, he shifts his feet and his fingers flex as he smothers down the urge to touch you.

“I don’t know. It’s- it’s flashing too fast to read.” You know you should probably stop the tape and go back, but you can’t. “Is it- fuck, it’s hot in here, right?” You ask him, biting your lip when the woman cums on the tape, moaning softly as you wonder if Tim would finger you before he fucks you or if he would just shove his cock into your needy pussy.

“Yeah. It is.” Tim murmurs, suddenly boiling hot and he unbuttons a couple more buttons on his shirt, his tie pulled over his head to fling it down on the sofa. The man grabs the woman, dragging her to the bed and he wastes no time pushing into her, her moan echoing in the room and the screen flashes again. This time slower. The word ‘Fuck’ flashes again, and again. Tim is rock hard now, unable to tear his eyes away from the tv.

“It’s saying ‘Fuck’.” You breathe out, unsure why someone would cut that word into a snuff film. “Right?” Your cunt is throbbing and you squirm as you watch the couple fuck on the screen. You bite your lip, trying to keep your breathing regulated and you want to touch yourself, or have Tim touch you.

“Ye-yeah. That’s what I- shit. It’s so hot.” He says, unbuttoning another couple of buttons and he undoes the wrist buttons, rolling his sleeves up. ‘Fuck’ flashes up on the screen again and Tim grunts, unable to resist palming his cock through his pants. “So-sorry. I- shit. I’m so hard it hurts.” He confesses, “you should - you should go.” He says, trying to get you away from him before he breaks.

You snort, pressing your thighs together. “Of course you are. We are watching two attractive people have sex.” You reason. “And it’s been a long goddamn time since a man made me cum.

Tim frowns, turning his head for a second to look at you before he focuses on the screen again. “It has? How? You’re - Jesus. You’re gorgeous. I always thought you had a secret boyfriend or something and just didn’t tell us.” He admits as the man fucks the woman harder and the screen flashes again. ‘Fuck’ Flashes and almost burns in his retinas as he sees it when he blinks.

You squirm again, wanting to shove your hand into your panties and rub your clit. “No time to date.” You groan. “You know how it is. Long hours. Turbulent cases. I just- have a vibrator.” You hiss when the screen flashes again. “Fuck! Why does it keep telling me to fuck?” You cry.

Tim bites his lip, his gaze flicking between you and the screen. The man flips the woman over to push back inside of her, making her cry out. ‘Fuck’ flashes again and Tim shakes his head, “I don’t - shit - I can’t - I need to-” He surges forward to cup your cheeks, pressing his lips to yours as ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.’ repeats in his mind over and over again until he no longer controls himself.

It’s such a fucking relief to feel his lips against yours that you let out a small sob. Pulling him closer and pressing your entire body against his as ‘Fuck’ flashes in your mind again and again. Driven by some unseen force that is practically compelling you to touch the other detective. The need for him clawing under your skin like a drug.

His hands slide down to grab your waist, dragging you not his lap as his tongue slides into your mouth. The moans continue on the tv and the word ‘Fuck’ continues flashing in his mind. “Fuck.” He rasps out. “I- I can’t stop. Tell me to stop.” He managed to choke out despite grabbing your hips to drag you down on top of him.

“Don’t stop.” You gasp out, rolling your hips down shamelessly to grind against his hard cock. You don’t know why you need him inside you, but you desperately do. “Touch me, Tim.” You beg breathlessly. “Please baby.”

He can’t deny you. He helps you grind down on his cock, his hands sliding up to squeeze your tits through your blouse. “I - shit - I need to - to be inside of you.” He tells you, reaching down to work on unbuttoning your pants and he pushes his hand inside to find you wet and ready for him.

"Fuck." You whimper at the first touch of his thick fingers against your clit. "Yes, need- fuck, I need your cock." You groan out, reaching down around his own hand in your pants to squeeze his cock through his. "Now Tim." You insist.

Tim groans when you squeeze him and he slides his fingers between your folds, groaning at how wet you are. “Fuck. I- stand up. Take your pants off.” He demands, working on his belt buckle and his cock is aching, he’s in pain. The word ‘Fuck’ keeps flashing on the screen as the moans continue to pour out of the tv speakers.

Scrambling to your feet, you nearly fall over in your haste to strip down. Pushing down your pants and kicking them off with your panties, your knees shake in need and you are panting like you've just finished a marathon. "Oh fuck." you turn back around and find Tim with his cock in his hand, pumping it furiously. "Oh shit, let me- I need-" You dive back onto his lap, eager to sink down on his thick, uncut cock.

He grabs your ass as you reach between you to grip his cock and he groans when you start to sink down onto him. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” starts to echo on the tv but Tim isn’t paying attention, to obsessed with the way you are sinking onto his cock. You’re so wet and tight and he loses his ability to breathe as you settle into his cock.

The slightly intense, grim detective looks amazing as he moans for you. Feeling his cock scrub against your walls in the best way as he breaks you open. Making your mouth drop open and a loud moan of his name, your arms wrapped around his neck to keep you upright.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiittt.” He hisses in delight, groaning your name as you start to rock on top of him and his hands slide up to work on the buttons of your shirt, wanting to feel every inch of you. The buttons become tiresome so he just rips your blouse, sending buttons flying across the room and he groans when he finally gets access to your tits, pulling them out of your bra so he can duck down and take a nipple into his mouth.

“Oh fuck!” You cry out when his mouth attacks your breasts. Never imagining he would be such a dominant lover. Tearing your shirt off has you clenching down around him and squeezing him tight in your walls. “More.” You beg, tangling your fingers into his hair and tugging on it, pressing him into your breast. “More, baby, fuck.”

He bites down, sucking on your tits, alternating as he groans into your flesh and you whimper, making his cock twitch inside of you. ‘Fuck. Fuck. Fuck’ continues on the screen, the moans stopping from the couple as yours replace them, the words on the screen flashing constantly and Tim hisses as he grabs your ass, lifting you up to place you on the sofa so he can fuck into you.

“Oh fuck.” You whine when his cock slips out of you but the second he is driving back into you, your scream rings out. Scratching your nails down his shirt, you wish he was undressed. At least so you could feel his skin under your fingers.

He grunts, leaning down to kiss along your neck. “Imagined this so many fucking times.” He admits shamelessly, “imagined fucking you on my desk. In my bed. In here. In the captain's office. Imagined you a fuck ton. Shit. So tight. Knew you would be.” He rambles, his thrusts deep and slightly frantic as the mantra continues around you.

You moan, unable to believe that he would imagine fucking you. You have never thought he noticed you beyond working together. “Imagined how good you’d feel. How thick you would be.” You confess as he punches deep inside you. “Better that I could have imagined.”

Tim groans, spurred on by your words and the repeated mantra urging him on and he hisses your name as he pushes deep. “Wanna - wanna feel you cum.” He says, reaching down to rub your clit.

You shudder, clenching down around him and digging your nails into his shoulder as you lunge up to bite his chin. “Yes, fuck, fuck me harder.” You beg, driven by this invisible force.

He clenches his jaw, pushing deeper, harder, faster. Sweat beads on his forehead as he kneels on the sofa, lifting your thigh over his hip to get even deeper inside of you, his fingers rubbing your clit.

“Tim, oh fuck, oh fuck.” You choke out, feeling that familiar polling in the pit of your stomach. Except it’s better than using your toy at home. The nerves screaming in pleasure and you kiss every inch of skin you can reach.

“Fuck. Fuck. Fuck” repeats over and over and Tim hisses as he rocks into you, trying to get you to cum. It’s like he needs you to cum like he needs to breathe. “That’s it. Shit. Gettin’ so wet on my cock. Cum for me. Cum for me.” He begs, his cock twitching as he gets closer to his own orgasm.

The harsh, jarring thrusts are everything you need and more. Pushing you closer every time his hips snap forward and if there was ever a question of Tim Rockford’s ability in bed, this answered it. “Gonna baby.” You squeal, not making any sense, but it doesn’t matter. Your orgasm crashes through you and all you can do is cry out wordlessly.

“Yesss. That’s it. Good girl.” Tim hisses as you clamp down around him and he swears he could fuck you all night long just to hear you cry out his name like that. He rocks you through it, his jaw clenching and he releases a deep groan as he buries his cock deep and cums inside of you, painting your walls.

You whine, loving the feeling of his hot cum filling you up. Panting as you try to catch your breath when he drops his head on your shoulder. “Fuck.”

“Fuck.” He echoes, his cock still hard inside of you. The mantra is still playing on the tv and it’s wiggled into Tim’s head, making him ache for more. “I need - wanna fuck you from behind.”

You are surprised that he can keep going, but you can’t deny that your body still aches for more. “Yessss.” You hiss, clenching down around him and biting your lip. “Fuck me again. Never stop fucking me.”

Tim groans, pulling out of you and his dark eyes focus on the cum dripping out of you and he watches you shift onto your knees. His fingers wrap around his cock as you position yourself until he’s notching himself at your entrance and pushes into you with a groan.

“Fuck!” You cry out, enjoying the sharp ping of pain when he pushes deep and his cock hits the back of your cervix from this angle. “Jesus how are you single with a dick like that?” You moan.

“The job.” He chuckles, grabbing your hips and he starts to push deep, setting another harsh pace. “Divorced. Father of one. Not exactly - exactly Prince Charming.” He says breathlessly as his cock hits hard against your cervix.

“Fuuuuuuck.” You whine, dropping your head down onto the back of the sofa and rocking your hips back. “Don’t- fuck, don’t stop.” You beg him, barely getting the words out as he slams into you over and over again.

“I can’t.” He says truthfully and he slams into you, over and over. Desperate to hear and feel you cum for him again. “Can’t fucking stop. You’re - shit - this pussy is - fuck. Never wanna pull out.”

Moaning softly, all you can do is clench around him while you take his cock over and over again. Feeling like he's in your guts every time he snaps his hips forward and you want him even deeper. "Don't." you pant over your shoulder. "Just fuck me forever."

Tim nods, sweat glistening on his forehead and neck as he pushes into you over and over again. “I will, baby. Oh I fucking will.” He promises and groans when you clench around him. The tv keeps flashing and he hears ‘Fuck’ in the back of his mind over and over. “Jesus Christ. Never wanna stop.”

Your eyes slip closed. 'Fuck' flashing in your mind over and over again. Like you are possessed by this need to fuck. You moan his name and push your hips back. Needing more. Needing him deeper inside you. It doesn't matter that you've always dreamed of having sex with him, you need more of it. You whine, biting your lip so hard that you almost feel your teeth break the skin. Humming in agreement as you push back more forcefully. Letting his hips slam against your ass hard enough to rock you forward and press your chest against the back of the sofa.

“Good girl. That’s it. Yes. Yes.” Tim grunts, loving how you are pushing back against him. “Keep going. Keep - fuck - need you to cum again.” He pleads, leaning over your body to kiss along your neck, his hand cupping your tit to squeeze and pinch the nipple.

Gasping at the pain, you reach down. Frantically rubbing your clit as he hammers into you from behind. Striking that perfect spot deep inside you. "Gonna cum!" you squeal seconds before you clench down around him.

“That’s it, baby. Cum. Cum. Shit - need you to-” He chokes when you clamp down on his cock and he groans when you soak him, his cock nearly trapped inside of you but he manages to move to work you through it and he’s so close. “Shit. Baby. I- I’m gonna - I gotta - fuuuuuuckkkk.” He growls as he cums for the second time, painting your walls.

Whimpering Tim's name, you relax into the sofa, feeling him coating the inside of your cunt in his seed. Closing your eyes and sighing at the feeling, a small smile on your face. "So good. Feels so good." You moan quietly.

Tim exhales shakily, turning his head to see the screen has gone gray and he pants, leaning in to kiss your neck before he slowly pulls out of you, his cock finally going soft. “Shit.” He hisses and shifts to sit down on the sofa.

You turn slightly, grabbing your ruined shirt to sit down so you don’t leak cum all over the sofa. Other officers use it too. “God.” You pant, flopping back and trying to catch your breath. “That was- holy shit.”

Tim’s chest heaves, the mantra finally leaving his mind and he leans against the sofa after tucking himself away. “I guess…I guess it’s not, uh, it’s not a snuff tape.” He chuckles breathlessly.

"No." You frown slightly, wondering why it was said to be a snuff film when you think you saw both people in the film, alive and exhausted. "I- it was so strange. I kept seeing the word 'Fuck' flash on the screen between the scenes. Did you?"

“Yeah. It’s like - it’s like it burned into my retinas and all I could think of was fucking you and Jesus…I - did you want me to - or have I just-?” He can’t even sound out his thoughts, too horrified at the thought of it being what it could be. 

"No!" Your eyes widen and you quickly shake your head. "I wanted you to." You promise, rushing to reassure him that it was something you had been very enthusiastic to experience. "I needed you too. It was like I had to have you or I was going to go crazy." You admit. "I thought I was pretty good at hiding my feelings."

The detective’s head swivels over to look at you. “You mean you- this wasn’t just the crazy hypnosis snuff video? You - Christ above, sweetheart. You have any fucking idea how many times I’ve thought about touching you…about being inside you…about loving you.” He adds softer than his prior exclamation.

You bite your lip, trying and failing not to grin at his confession. It seems like what could have been something troubling has turned out pretty fucking good. "So, I guess it was a good thing that you watched this with me rather than Robertson." You joke softly.

Tim’s eyes go wide as he turns to look at you, “thank the fucking Lord.” He runs his fingers through his hair. “That video…I don’t know what the fuck that was but we, uh, we gotta report it because this - it might not be so consensual for the next ones that get it and it could be dangerous.” He says, trying to focus on his job again instead of the way your lips look utterly kissable again.

"Who gave you this tape again?" You ask with a frown. "Why would they tell you it's a snuff film when it's.....obviously not?" It is concerning that it was given to a detective, and you wonder if it was meant to cause havoc in the department. Or the crime lab. "Normally this would be examined by the crime lab......not us."

“Yeah. The, uh, you know Greg? He gave it to me. Told me the crime lab didn’t have a working VHS so I’d have to watch it if I wanted to get the evidence from it.” He says and frowns, “he - he kinda knew I had a thing for you. Might’ve mentioned it when he noticed how pissed I’d get when the others talked about you behind your back.”

"Others talk about me?" You frown slightly, although you know shit talking is a part of being a cop. Especially a female detective in a male dominated field. "And Greg told you to watch this...with me?"

“They - they talk about your body. Your ass…what they wanna do to you. I- I try to shut them down. Say it’s disrespectful and yeah…he told me to get the captain to have you assigned to the case and I thought it was just to have your brains on the case…not - not this.” He gestures to the tv.

"Do you think Greg knew what was on the tape?" You ask quietly. reaching out and taking his hand and squeezing it gently for his kindness. For sticking up for you.

Tim looks down at your hands and shakes his head, “I don’t know babe. I- shit. I’m so sorry I put you in this situation. We gotta try and trace this tape back. We can’t let this shit get out.” He says, caressing the back of your hand with his thumb.

"I know." You nod as you look over at where the tv is still displaying a gray screen. "Maybe we need to take the video out of the station." You hum. "You know how nosy all these assholes are."

Tim nods, “I can take it home. Hide it.” He says, squeezing your hand again. “And I- I wouldn’t mind going to dinner with you sometime.” He adds, staring at the gray screen as he anxiously awaits your answer.

"I don't think we are going to get much work done tonight." You admit. "And I don't know about you, but I'm starving." You shrug. "I would say let's go to that dinner around the corner, but you ripped my shirt, so how about I make you dinner at my place?"

Tim nods, “how about I meet you at your place and I can pick up some Chinese food. Save you cooking.” He adds, “and then maybe we can talk about what happened when we are clear headed.”

"That sounds good." You agree, standing up and picking up your panties and pants after you tuck your boobs back into your bra. You wonder if he will blow you off, or if he wants to actually meet you at your place.

He knows your order from late nights in the station with everyone. He stands up, adjusting his shirt and he grabs his tie, shoving it into his pocket. “Sorry about your shirt. You, uh, want to use my jacket?” He offers, knowing you’ll want your decency when you leave.

"I've got an extra shirt in my desk drawer." You tell him with a grin. "For those all nighters." You know he understands that. Most detectives keep a complete change of clothes in a drawer just in case. "But help me hunt down the buttons?"

Tim nods, kneeling down and he blushes when he sees how far the buttons went. “I was - Jesus. That video made me feral.” He admits and picks up a few buttons. He hands them to you and when you stand there, he gently reaches up to cup your cheek, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to kiss you softly.

You've kissed, but it had been frantic and needy. This is so much more gentle. A real kiss that is not because of that video. "I- thank you." You murmur quietly.

“You deserved better than that for our first time.” He murmurs as he pulls back, “I’ll make it up to you.” He promises as he looks at you. “Lemme grab your shirt from your desk just in case.”

“I don’t know.” You admit as you pull your pants back on. “I think multiple orgasms and being fucked within an inch of my life was a great first time.” You laugh. “Although I’m a little disappointed I didn’t get to suck your cock.”

Tim smirks, feeling confident now that you want him again and enjoyed earlier. “Don’t you worry baby. Maybe later…we can explore each other a little more.” He smirks and you giggle. “Let’s get out of here.” He says, walking over to the TV to eject the tape.

“That’s an amazingly suggestive tape.” You hum as you watch him analyze the tape like it might tell him its secrets. “Let’s go, Rockford.” You order with a smirk. “I’m starving and the captain authorized overtime, but I’d rather have our next viewing of the tape be in my bed.”

Tim’s eyes widen, “you wanna - I’d rather have you without watching the tape.” He tells you and you smirk, nodding, “that’s exactly what I’m suggesting.” He grins and follows you into the bullpen so you can collect your things. “You wanna come in my car or I can follow you?”

You smirk and shrug. "I might as well take my car." You tell him, "since I think that we won't be back in the office until next week." You wink at him. "Might cause some rumors if I leave it here."

Tim nods, willing to follow your lead and he grabs his things as you put the shirt on. “Come on, babe.” He says once you’re ready and he guides you out of the station to your car, glancing around to check out the surroundings like he always does.

You smile at the way that his hand rests on your hip. Protective and possessive. Waiting until you unlock the door to hold it open for you. "I'll meet you at my place?" You ask, glancing over at him. "You remember how to get there?"

He knows where you live, having dropped you off during late night stakeouts and ops. He waits until you’re in your car with the door locked before he makes his way over to his vehicle, quick to leave the parking lot and follow you to your house.

It's a bit nerve wracking, knowing Tim is following you. Excited in a way that you don't understand, you keep watching his car in your rearview mirror.

He grips the steering wheel, a little nervous actually to be going to your place if you are regretting sleeping with him. He calls up the Chinese restaurant to place your orders and he makes his way there. After picking up the food, he makes his way to your place and rings the doorbell with the food in hand.

In the spare time you had while Tim got the food, you had jumped into a quick shower. Bare feet and comfortable clothes are what greets him when he knocks on the door and you open it with a smile. "Hi." You greet him, waving him in. "Do you want a beer? Something stronger?"

Tim chuckles, “tempted to have something stronger but a beer will do. I don’t wanna be on anything around you. Especially after that fucking tape.” The tape is currently hidden in his glove box. “I wanna be sober around you.”

You nod in agreement and lean in to press your lips to his. "A beer it is." You hum, closing the door behind him and leading him into the kitchen. "I'll get the beers and some plates."

Tim checks your door is locked before he follows you into the kitchen, setting the bag of food down on your counter. “I haven’t been in here since you hosted that party after Samson closed that cold case.”

“Yeah, that’s been awhile.” You open the fridge and grab two beers to open before you turn back to him. “That  was right after you and your wife divorced.” You wince slightly. “I’m sorry about that. I know it was rough. I hated that you were under a lot of stress during that time.” 

Tom shakes his head as he takes the beer from your hand. “It was over a long time ago. We - we stayed together for our son and - shit. She really gave me hell.” He confesses, “anyway. I, uh, I guess I never really asked about your dating life. Never wanted to know if you had a boyfriend that I could be jealous of.

“No dating life, not when I wanted someone at work.” You confess. 

Tim's eyes widen as he absorbs your words before he chuckles, "you mean you were lusting after Jackson?" He teases, knowing the nearly retired old man is not the one you wanted. "I, uh, seriously though...I didn't know. I was a little busy eying you up without being a creepy asshole." He admits, licking his lips.

“You shouldn’t have worried about being creepy.” You smile softly. Despite the fact that you had been junior to him. It’s one of the reasons you respect him, he wouldn’t abuse his authority. Now both of you are equals, so there is no worry about improprieties. “Although now you can eye me up however you want.”

"Well that's good to know." His eyes slowly trail along your body, enjoying the fact that he can unashamedly admire you. "You're so fucking pretty, baby." He says after a moment, his fingers flexing around the beer bottle.

“Do you want to eat and talk, talk or just eat?” You ask, not sure what he wants to do. Despite the fucking that had happened at the station, you still want to touch him, but you know you can’t just act like a horny teenager.

"Let's talk and eat. You need to eat after how I - you know." He clears his throat and blushes a little. "I kinda - I kinda wanna touch you again but only if you want." He adds, suddenly nervous.

“I want to touch you too.” It’s endearing that he had fucked you so hard earlier and now he’s blushing. “If you want, of course.” You smirk slightly as you turn back to the cabinets to get the plates and silverware.

Tim’s eyes drop down to your ass as you get the plates. “Of course I want to.” He scoffs like you asked him a ridiculous question. “Baby, let’s sit down and eat. You need food after I - well, I’m starving.” He admits, taking out the containers after opening the bag.

You hum, dipping out some of the food onto plates and take them over to the small table while Tim carries the beers. “We do need to refill the tanks, so to speak.” You laugh. “I have to admit, I was shocked when you kept fucking me.”

“So was I!” Tim exclaims with wide eyes. “I ain’t eighteen anymore and I- shit - that kind of stamina…not my normal gig I gotta be honest. Usually I cum once and that’s it. I need a nap and a snack before I’m ready to go again.”

“A nap and a snack, huh?” You giggle at that, finding him too cute and you lean over to press a kiss to his lips. “I’m normally a ‘once and I’m good’ kind of girl too. But tonight?” You point to his sweet and sour chicken. “Eat your snack baby.”

He grins, liking the way you think and he must admit he’s eager to have you again. He grabs a plate to start serving up his food and he grabs his beer and follows you into the living room after you’ve grabbed your own plate. “You wanna watch something on RV?” You ask and Tim bites his lip, “maybe not the best considering the last thing we watched.”

You snort and nod, biting your lip as the two of you sit down. “So, where do you see this going?” You ask quietly. “Something serious? Causal? I wouldn’t blame you after the divorce.”

Tim sets his plate down on your coffee table, "honestly? I kinda want to date you. I want to take you out for dinner and see where this goes." He admits, "unless you want casual but...I'm not really a casual kind of guy."

“I don’t really like casual either.” You admit, turning towards him after setting your own plate down. “I would have put up with it for you.”

He's taken back at your confession and he smiles, "guess we both suck at casual. I was thinking about asking you out, you know? I just didn't want to be that creepy older guy that asks you on a date and makes it awkward at work when you said no."

“I would have said yes.” You promise, leaning in and touching his hand. “Tonight just….sped up the timeline.” You joke. “And will give us one hell of a first date story.”

Snorting, he nods as he takes a bite of orange chicken as he squeezes your hand with his free one. “Yeah. Maybe we can edit it a little bit.” He teases, “and hopefully you include the detail of me having a big cock.” He jokes, winking at you.

You giggle and your cunt clenches. “Don’t worry. That fact will be repeated with the high praise on how well you use that cock.” You promise. “Don’t think I’ve ever been fucked so well.”

Tim can’t help but grin with pride at your statement and he swears he will make you feel that way if you let him touch you again. “Sounds good to me, sweetheart.”

Both of you finish your meal, chatting about different things, different cases you had been working on. Setting your plate down with a content sigh, you drain the last drops of your beer and look over at Tim. “So, do you want to go back to my bedroom? We could take a nap, or….”

He watches you for a moment, “bedroom…I wanna touch you in a bed. I wanna have my mind be my own when I touch you next.” He says, reaching for your hand to pull you closer so he can lean in and press his lips to yours.

You can agree with that. As much as you needed him back at the station, you want to be in control. This time, your arms go around his neck because you want to keep the kiss going, slowly feeling his mouth out as it starts to deepen.

His tongue slides against yours and he groans into your mouth, loving how you feel as your fingers tangle in his hair. “Fuck.” He grunts into your mouth when you’re a little rougher but he loves it.

You love how his embrace is solid. The steady weight of him beside you makes you shift to straddle him. Settling back into his lap and pressing close, there’s not the urgency of before, but you are learning each other

His hands trail along your body, enjoying how you feel pressed against him, and the kisses are slow, passionate and he loves it. His hands slide down to squeeze your ass and he can’t resist slapping your cheeks before he grabs them again.

“Tim!” You gasp into his mouth and laugh, enjoying the smug smirk on his handsome face. Reaching up, you tangle your fingers back into his hair as you continue to make out. You know how he feels inside, but this is almost more intimate.

He kisses along your jaw, down your neck and bites gently over your pulse. “You’re so Goddamn beautiful. Inside and out. Why you want me, I’ll never know.” He confesses, knowing he’s fucked up but he’s gonna take this opportunity to be with you by the fucking horns and ride it as long as you want him.

“Because you are a good man.” You’ve seen plenty of men who pretend to be good but they are rotten at their core. Tim Rockford is honest, noble. “I want to take you to bed,” you confess softly. “Can you go again, or should we just cuddle?”

Tim nods, "I can go again." He is surprisingly half hard and he rocks up to grind against you, showing you he can be ready. "Let's go to your bedroom." He says, smacking your ass again and you stand up. He stands up after you and takes your outstretched hand as you guide him to your room.

In your bedroom, that’s where your personality shines. The bright, beautiful colors of your bedding and the natural light. The bookshelves are loaded down with novels and the slightly messy open closet door. “Sorry.” You move to close the door. “Didn’t think I would have company today when I left.”

Tim snorts, "this is nothing. You should see my place. It's chaos. My boy leaves his fucking legos on the floor and guess who steps on them in the middle of the night?" Tim asks you, eyebrows raised.

You giggle, imagining him cursing and stumbling over the blocks in the dark. “Ouch.” You wince sympathetically. “I know that hurts.”

"It does." He tells you with wide eyes, glancing around your room before he exhales softly and steps closer to you. He reaches up to cup your cheek, "I really do think you're beautiful." He murmurs, his dark eyes burning into yours. "Can I eat you out?" He asks, curious if you'll be happy for him to do that.

It’s your turn to be surprised by the request. “I- yes.” You sputter. “It’s- are you sure? You want to do that? I mean, I’m not complaining, but we- you came inside me.”

Tim snorts, “I put it there. I’m sure I can clean up my mess.” He says and smirks at you, reaching for the hem of your shirt. “Let’s get naked. I wanna see all of you. Wanna taste every inch of you. Take my time.”

“It’ll be nice seeing you this time.” You admit with a grin, letting him pull your shirt over your head and reaching for the buttons of his collared shirt. “Never had a boyfriend who would go down on me after sex.” You admit with a giggle.

Tim lets you push his shirt off of his shoulders and he’s a little self conscious. He’s not toned. He’s strong but he’s not abs and no body fat. He likes his food and he doesn’t tend to have a lot of time to exercise. He flusters slightly when you run your fingers down his chest.

“Sexy,” you coo softly, wanting to touch and kiss every inch of him. You knew that you were attracted to Tim, but your cunt is dripping at the sight of his chest and he hasn’t even removed his pants yet. “So fucking sexy.”

“You are.” He hums with a smirk and he reaches for your bra, unclasping it to pull it down your arms before he flings it across the room. “Baby. Fuck. You’re so sexy.” He murmurs and reaches up to cup your tits, squeezing them. “Great tits.”

You laugh, amused at the awe-filled look on his face as he palms your tits. As if he can't believe that he is touching them. "You've got a great cock." You hum, reaching down and cupping him. "Feels good. I want to see how it feels in my mouth instead of my pussy."

Tim groans at your filthy words. "Shit baby. You - you are fucking incredible." He compliments you as he gropes your tits. "Wanna - wanna make you cum. How do you wanna cum?" He asks, curious and eager.

You whine, eyes closing at the feeling of his hands on your body and the promise in his words. Anything you want is yours it seems. “I want you to eat me out.” You admit breathlessly. If his head game is good, this man is the complete package.

"Fuck. Take your pants off." He demands, his cock aching in his pants and he decides to push them down after unbuckling his belt. His boxers soon follow after he kicks off his shoes while you strip down to nothing. "Shit. So fucking gorgeous. Lay down." He demands again, the edge in his voice is raspy but commanding.

You shiver, laying down and wondering why it’s so sexy that he is taking control. You watch him, greedy as your eyes roam over his nude body. “Come here.” You beg, wanting him to touch you.

He shifts to kneel on the bed, his hands trailing along your thighs until he's pushing your legs open so he can take in the sight of your cunt. "Fuck, I-" He can't say another word as he surges forward to bury his face in your cum slick folds.

Crying out, your hands tangle in his hair. Closing your eyes, you enjoy how eagerly his tongue flicks over your clit. It’s magical, breath stealing as he devours you. Making you so glad that you had invited him home.

He groans into your flesh, loving how you taste, and he hisses when you tug on his hair in a way that makes his cock twitch against your sheets. His fingers dig into your thighs as he keeps you spread open so he can devour you.

Tim isn’t proper when he is eating you out. He’s messy, ravenous. The sexy little grunts and sighs as he takes you apart with every flick of his tongue has you moaning his name, rolling your hips down to meet his eager tongue.

"Fuck. You taste-" He groans as he pulls back for a second before he surges forward to bury his face in your folds again. He loves the tangy taste of your arousal and the salt of his cum. He doesn't give a shit about tasting his own essence on your flesh and he laps at your clit.

“Tim, oh fuck, baby.” You moan, rolling your hips again and whimpering his name once more when he tightens his grip on you.

He shifts, letting go of your flesh so he can push two thick digits inside of you. Calloused from holding a pen all the damn time and he curls them before he resumes sucking on your clit like a candy.

“Shit.” You hiss, shuddering and your breath catching at the curl of his fingers deep inside of you. Pressing perfectly against that magical place that makes you squeal out his name when he presses again.

He groans your name, “that’s it baby. That’s it.” He mumbles into your cunt when your walls flutter around his fingers, pressing against that spot over and over again. “Cum for me.” He demands before he resumes sucking your clit.

It doesn’t take you long. Only a few more minutes before he is pulling you apart. Your nerves fraying and your entire body bursting with pleasure when you start to come apart. Crying out his name and flooding his mouth with your cum.

Tim eagerly laps up every drop. He pumps his fingers into you, loving how you moan and writhe under his mouth. He caresses your thigh as he works you through it until he feels you relax, practically melt into your mattress.

You whimper, letting go of his hair and trying to drag him up to you for a kiss. Desperate to give him the same kind of pleasure that he had just given you.

His lips meet yours and he slowly withdraws his fingers, enjoying the way you slide your tongue against his and his wet digits grip your thigh. “Wanna be inside of you again.” He murmurs between kisses he presses to your jaw, needing to hear you say you want him again.

“You don’t want me to suck your cock?” You ask breathlessly. You’ve imagined it so many times but if he would rather fuck you, you are all for it. “I will always want you inside me.”

Tim bites his lip as you lay under him. “I kinda want you to suck my cock. Then I want to fuck you.” He decides and you giggle, pushing on his chest. He obediently shifts to lay down, his hard cock resting on his stomach and you move onto your knees.

“Fuck.” You whimper, wrapping your fingers around his cock and giving him a slow squeeze. “Imagined myself on my knees for you so many times.” You admit. “Even wondered if I could fit under your desk.” That makes you giggle again, imagine having his cock down your throat while he types up a report. “Now I get to taste you.” Lowering your head, you wrap your lips around the tip of his cock, tongue pressing against the bead of pre-cum.

“Oh fuck.” Tim hisses when you take him into your mouth, your lips wrapping around the head of his cock. “Baby. You look so pretty like this.” He murmurs, unable to close his eyes, wanting to see every second of this and burn it into his memory.

You preen under his praise, taking him deeper and wanting to give him the best blowjob he’s ever had in his entire fucking life. Holding onto his hip while you take him down to the back of your throat and swallowing around him.

“Jesus.” Tim hisses as you swallow around him, your jaw almost unhinged as you take him deeper and your eyes are watering. “Fuck, sweetheart. Look so good.” He murmurs, reaching down to caress your cheek, enjoying the feel of his cock pressing against your cheek.

You hum, letting it vibrate through him with a grin. Enjoying the feeling of his hand on your cheek while you concentrate on not choking. You want to take him deeper, to wrap your lips around the base and you slide your fingers out from around the base to hold onto his hips.

“Oh oh oh shittt.” He hisses before he pants, his cock twitching down your throat as your nose brushes the coarse hair at the base of his cock. “Baby. Baby. Shit. You gotta - I can’t - it’s too much.” He admits and grabs the back of your neck, trying to pull you off of his length.

You lift off of him with a gasp of air. “You don’t want to-“ you bite your lip but Tim shakes his head. “Want to be inside you.” He reminds you, rolling your body under his again and your legs fall open to brace on either side of his hips.

He’s slower this time. Hovering over you, he reaches down to grip his cock and he positions himself at your entrance. He pushes into you, his eyes flicking up to meet yours as he braces his hand on the side of your head.

This time, he slides into you an inch at a time. Slow enough that you swear you feel his heartbeat fluttering against your pussy walls. Letting you moan softly and wrap your legs around his back, heels pressed into his tiny ass as you enjoy being split open by him again.

He exhales shakily once he’s fully inside of you. Groaning your name as he leans down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “Fucking perfect.” He murmurs, cock twitching when you clench around him. “Gonna take our time. Want you to cum again for me.”

As frantic as the time in the station was, this is equally as slow. More like love making than anything else as Tim slowly pushes and drags his cock in and out of your walls. It's a good thing, since you are a little sore from earlier, but you wouldn't have him stop for anything in the world as you two kiss.

His lips press against yours over and over again, his weight shifting onto his forearms so he can press his body against yours. Your heels dig into his ass, pushing him impossibly deeper with every thrust into you and he swears he could stay like this forever.

You moan his name, holding him tight as you move with him. Wanting to be as close as you can get without crawling up inside his skin. “Fuck.” You whimper, his pelvis rubbing against your clit as he grinds down into you. It’s intense and totally consuming in the best possible way as he builds you back up.

"So fucking beautiful. So fucking smart. Too good for me. Too fucking good for me." He murmurs as he kisses along your neck while he rocks into you, his hand reaching back to lift your thigh higher so he can grind even deeper into you.

“Why?” You gasp out, unable to comprehend why he would think you’re too good for him. “Handsome, smart, sexy, capable.” You groan, clenching around him. “You’re a fucking catch.”

Tim chuckles against your neck. “I fucking - I got more baggage than a Goddamn airport, baby girl. I gotta - I have an ex wife and a son. It’s not - most women don’t wanna get involved in the drama.” He explains breathlessly as he rocks into you.

“No drama.” You moan, tightening your legs around him. “Mileage.” You tease playfully. Despite having an ex-wife, you know that he’s a good man, not a perfect one - but a good man. His son, well, he would be part of the deal and you couldn’t imagine thinking otherwise.

“Mileage.” He repeats with a chuckle. “Like an old corvette.” He jokes and slides his hands under you, getting even closer to you. His hips rock against yours a little faster, wanting to feel you cum around him.

“Classics are still fucking sexy.” You whimper when he hits deep inside you, striking the perfect angle. “There, fuck, right there Tim.” You beg, digging your nails into his shoulders.

He frowns, concentrating on that spot to make you cum. He pushes into you a little faster, not changing the angle of his hips and he watches your brow furrow and your mouth fall open. “Shit baby. Look so good.” He murmurs, “You gonna cum for me?”

“Yes!” You gasp, feeling the tension nearly snap the next time his hips rocket forward. Almost cumming right then. You just need one more thrust. Your body lurches when he pulls back, lifting up to meet him, and you squeal his name when he thrusts back into you, making stars erupt behind your eyes.

“Shit.” Tim hisses when you clamp down on his cock. “That’s it baby. Shit. So tight.” He pants, loving how wet you feel around him as your nails dig into his back. He works you through it, slow and deep despite the vice grip on his cock, and he kisses slowly along your neck.

“So good.” You whimper, panting for breath as you come down from your high. “Want you to cum.” You murmur softly. “Fill me up again.”

Tim clenches his jaw, his pace picking up a little more as you tell him to cum. He pants, rocking into you harder and faster, practically folding your body in half as he seeks his own high until he chokes, his body coming to a halt as his cock twitches. His hot cum paints your walls and he hisses your name as he rides his orgasm.

He’s fucking gorgeous when he cums. His eyes are closed, jaw slack with pleasure as he pumps you full of cum. Groaning and twitching deep inside of you, making you moan again. “Fuck baby.” You coo, caressing his neck and cheek. “Amazing.”

He exhales heavily as he relaxes. His lips meet yours as he leans down to kiss you. The kiss is slow, his tongue caressing yours, and he enjoys being inside of you.

You let the kiss linger, not in any rush to pull away and you don’t drop your legs from around him until your breathing has calmed down.

Tim nudges his nose against yours, shifting onto his side with you while he's still inside of you, not wanting to pull out just yet. "So I should definitely take you on an actual date." He says, his dark eyes on you.

“Maybe.” You smile as you answer him, leaning up for another kiss. “Maybe a romantic crime scene. We can flirt over evidence markers.”

Tim chuckles, “we do that anyway. But I mean, an actual dinner. Wanna take you out. Wine and dine you. What do the kids say nowadays?” He teases, nudging his nose against yours. “Well, they say Netflix and Chill.” Tim snorts, “pretty sure we already did that. Snuff Tape and Fuck.” He jokes before his face gets serious, “dinner. Wanna treat you right.”

“That sounds good to me, detective.” You murmur with a smile. While you don’t know why the film came to be in your possession or who had made it, you’re sure that you’ll figure it out. After all, Tim Rockford is a legend on the police force, solving cases and in this case, putting this one to bed.

[ishipallthings]

Cap Iron Man Rec Week 2024 (Tues)

Time Travel Tuesday - July 23rd for @cap-ironman Rec Week

Time-y whimey shenanigans!

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

finding my way back to you by Anonymous (MCU)

Ten minutes after a botched attempt at proposing to Tony, Steve is thrown back in time.

More Than Gravity by JenTheSweetie @jenthesweetie (MCU)

“Aw, time travel, no.” On Christmas Eve, Tony came unstuck in time.

Marty McFly Never Had to Deal with This by sweatervest (MCU)

Tony's latest project goes less "renewable energy" and more "slightly explosive time machine," and Howard Stark arrives from 1946. Why, Steve would like to know, are time and space going to such lengths to cockblock him?

feelings that never left by hollyandvice (MCU)

The last thing Tony expects while working on the time machine for the so-called Time Heist is to be confronted with the very man he thought he'd made his peace with. Guess some wounds run deeper than we think.

Atomic Clock by imparfait (MCU, EG)

It’s ten am on a Tuesday in May when Tony Stark appears in Clint Barton’s barn. Clint trips over him while looking for a toolbox and swears, then swears again, then thinks I need to call Nat, which makes a half-sob punch out of his throat.

A Time to Be Alive by babesrgrs (MCU, EG)

The mission to get the Mind Stone and the Tesseract from 2012 goes a bit differently AKA the slightly snarky but sexy Endgame scene that didn't make the final cut.

Lover Come Hold Me by RurouniHime @thegertie (MCU, EG)

One by one, the stones must go back.

hunters seeking solid ground by laramara @commandersteverogers (MCU, EG)

In the wake of the battle with Thanos, Steve feels unmoored in a way he hasn’t since before he ate shawarma with a group of virtual strangers and thought maybe, maybe he could one day find a place here. Steve returns the stones, and has a few unexpected interactions and makes some decisions along the way.

Mobius Strip by dirigibleplumbing @dirigibleplumbing (MCU, EG)

Steve sets off to return the Infinity Stones. It ends up not being quite as straightforward as he'd imagined.

The Five Stages of a Time Loop by AirlocksandAviaries @airlocksandaviaries (MCU, EG)

Tony Stark looks Thanos in the eye. He raises his gauntlet in defiance and states his iconic phrase. He snaps, expecting death. But death doesn't come. Instead, he's back in his basement, completed time travel model in front of him. He builds the time machine. He snaps again. Again, and again, and again. Tony can't for the life of him seem to change the outcome of this story. What does change, though, is his feelings around it.

That Time Back Then by navaan @navaan (616)

An accident sends Steve and Carol back in time and watching Steve and Iron Man interact gives Steve a new perspective on how blind both of them were all those years ago.

Beside You In Time by Kiyaar @kiyaar (616)

The world is ending: Tony is evil, Steve is old. So there's nothing to stop him from making the (terrible) decision to travel back in time in a last-ditch effort to spare them both: by killing Tony's past self to spare them both from ending up where they've ended up. The Universe has other plans. An honest-to-god fix-it for Superior Iron Man, Hickman's entire run, and pretty much everything since Tony decided it was a good idea to take Extremis way back in 2005.

Mind over Matter by Missy_dee811 @laexploradoraaa (616)

For a brief moment in time, Steve had the power of the universe in his grasp, and he squandered it. The Infinity Gems, with the exception of one, ceased to exist. The Illuminati's last attempt at circumventing the laws of the universe and stopping the incursions before they targeted Earth-616 were eliminated when the precious stones shattered. But that wasn't the only thing that was broken that day. His faith in himself never recovered.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[heartofwritiing]

could you write wilbur soot confessing his love to a crush? 👉👈

something about how he's been pinning after this crush for so long, but the crush seems a bit avoidant or something

but that's because the crush also has a crush on him and is very very shy qpwimsmanssjslslek sorry im not good with requests

You and me need never be, lonely again.

Paring: cc!wilbur soot x fem!cc!reader

authors note: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you don't mind the reader being a content creator and i’m sorry she’s not super shy because im not really sure how to write shy lol but i hope you like the request! I just thought it would add to the idea and I've wanted to do something similar to this for a while! This is a request back from august. I am so sorry this took me so long to get out. I've been going through some shit irl but I'm finally starting to come back to writing because I genuinely love it and posting on here since it is my safe space!

line from this prompt list

warnings: friends-lovers, reader lives in the US, brief description of anxiety, the reader sends mixed signals, swearing, kinda angsty, happy end, super unedited!

"No! That was such bullshit!"

The voice of Tommyinnit ran through the speakers of your computer causing you to let out a chuckle that you were the reason for his outburst.

You were playing Gang Beasts on stream with some of your closest friends, and you had grabbed Tommy's character and thrown him off the map by picking him up.

Laughter rang out amongst the group as the screen card popped up saying your username won. You cheered as everyone groaned but dispersed into 'ggs' then that's when everyone started to bid goodnight. You hadn't realized it had been four hours of streaming and playing games, showing the good time you were having with friends.

"Alright chat, that's gonna be it for me today! Please remember to click the follow button if you're new to stream that way you'll know when I go live! byeee!" You did your outro, quickly closed your stream down, and logged out of Twitch.

It was an uneventful stream session, thank god. You’ve noticed more and more how your chat gets when you even mention wilburs name.

“you logging off completely y/n/n?” Ranboos voices asks through your earbuds.

“No, I’ll play a few more rounds if you guys are down,” you respond.

“HELL YEAH!” Tommy boasted. “IM GONNA KICK YOUR ASS THIS TIME Y/N/N!”

“Oh, it’s on gremlin child!” you replied.

Wilbur listened to this conversation on his end, letting out a chuckle. He honestly doesn’t know why you make him laugh so easily. Anytime you threw a genius comment toward Tommy that was deemed insulting, or calling him a name Wilbur fell for you more and more. If only he had the guts to tell you.

You as well wouldn’t admit it but every time Wilbur laughed all you could feel was butterflies punching your stomach and a smile that made your cheeks hurt. You were also falling hard for him.

After about another fifteen minutes, Tommy and Ranboo had bid their goodbyes for the night and ended their calls. You were left in call with Wilbur, the silence could be cut with a knife.

Knowing him for two years was hard. Wilbur was everything to you. He was funny, smart, charming, and overall made you feel comfortable. Something you thought you’d never have with anyone. Having to only talk on call and video made things easier for you. On call you could hide your blushes and smiles from him, but not from your chat who caught every interaction between you and Wilbur when you streamed. The constant ’Wilbur x name confirmed?’ tweets and comments in your twitch chat were recently repetitive and you wondered when you became such a beacon of attention. It gave you such anxiety to have all eyes on you when you wanted to spend time with your best friend.

It was getting obnoxious to the point where you debated making a tweet to get the fans to stop shipping you both, even if you were dating it was no one’s business. Still you never dared to say anything out of fear of stans coming at you in anyway. You didn’t need to draw more unwanted attention to yourself.

“You logging off? it’s getting pretty late for you,” you spoke up.

“Yeah, we both should, by the way what times your flight tomorrow?”

Right, you were flying less than eight hours from now to finally meet your friends inperson. You all had planned this for months, booking hotels and flights, making a whole deal about it. Then you really wouldn’t be able to hide from him for a whole week.

“Around seven-thirty,” you reply.

He hums.

“I’ll let you get some rest, see you tomorrow night darling,” his voice purposely going lower on the ‘darling’ part that you almost didn’t catch it, making your knees go weak.

“N-night Will,” you stutter, end call and slump back into your desk chair trying to calm your racing heart. Meanwhile Wilbur all the way across the ocean in Brighton has a smile plastered across his lips.

About a plane ride, a train ride and car ride later, you are stood in the hotel lobby in Brighton waiting for a late Tommy and Wilbur to arrive. You were super nervous to meet them. Having only been friends for what was a short time, it felt like you knew them for years, so why was this so scary?

You debated in your mind about texting them to see if they were close by, but you didn’t want to come off as annoying and impatient. You wanted to make a good first impression, but again these were your friends. Why were you shaking with nerves?

You fiddled with your thumb’s absentmindedly until you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to jump out of your skin. You spin around to be met with a cackling Tommy who is clucking his stomach from laughing so hard at your reaction.

“Fucking gremlin child,” you huffed under your breath, not realizing the evident blood rushing to your cheeks from being startled so easily.

“It’s nice to hear you say that in person,” a deep voice said from behind Tommy. You shifted your eyes to see a very tall Wilbur, who was wearing his round glasses pushed up his nose and curly hair fluffed to the side.

His dark sweater selves rolled up to revel his arms tucked into his side as he gazed at you with a soft smile. Finally after two years of being separated by seas, your best friend was standing right in front of you. It was surreal to say the least.

You laugh and jump forward to embrace him. The number of times you’d tease him over-call about his height made you regret your words. He towers over you as he bends down to your level to give you a long awaited hug. His arms are soft, yet firm as they wrap around your back and cage you into his embrace.

You both pull away, both grinning from ear to ear. He looks down at you with a hint of something behind his eyes, he seems to be genuinely happy to finally meet you in person. which makes you blush at the thought of him looking forward to this moment since you told him you wanted to come here. You're quickly brought out of your moment when Tommy speaks up behind you.

"So he gets a hug and I don't?!" his tone slightly offended.

"Yup, cause you're annoying," you bring a hand up to flick his forehead, causing him to let out a irritated noise. you had only just met him in person but something compelled you to do that. Maybe it was just a reason for you to break the ice and it was working because you all broke out into giggles.

“Im just kidding Tom,” you motion him into a hug.

Wilbur just stood observing the entire interaction between his two best friends. He was thrilled to finally have you here, he couldn't wait to show you all his favorite places, hang out, and get to know better in person. Finally.

The two boys had managed to drag you to the beach, and even though it was freezing Tommy insisted on going to the arcade to try and win another 'vlog gun'. After suffering through loosing a few games, Wilbur managed to win you a little stuffed cat that you promptly named Mr Whiskers.

It was endearing to watch him struggle at most of the games so he could get enough tickets. It was all worth it in his eyes to embarrass himself by losing ski-ball to you, twice, he saw the evident blush on your cheeks and the look you gave him. As if he hung the stars in the sky just for you. It made his chest hurt in a good way.

The rest of the night went smoothly for the most part. More and more, Wilbur had been getting more touchy with you. Though you didn’t mind it at all, maybe he didn’t realize how much he was putting his hand on you as you walked side by side as he led you through crowds. How he held doors open for you. It was sweet.

Maybe he was doing it just to be nice. That small voice in the back of your head telling you thats all it was. Because thats what friends do.

Eventually, the three of you met up with Ranboo and Charlie. They were just how they were online, which made meeting them a whole lot better. Walking around Brighton, making inside jokes and teasing each other. You hadn't been this happy in a while. You can remember the last time you genuinely enjoyed yourself, your friends were the product of that. You were fortunate to have found them when you did. Quarantine was hard on you, much like the rest of the world. So when you were invited to join a group game call, you couldn't pass up the opportunity. That night, something had clicked between you and Wilburt specifically. Then you started to join more calls with the gang and the rest was history.

Sometime in the night, you found yourself walking behind with Wilbur by your side chatting about nothing in particular. Until the comfortable silence filled the air between you, you took a moment to take in the nightlife of Brighton. The street lamps guide your way through the beachside and the pubs on the corner were starting to fill up. As if the city was somehow more alive at night.

"I'm really glad you came," Wilbur speaks, sincerely.

You stop your wide-eyed gaze to look at him and smile softly at him.

"I am too," You gush. "I'm honestly considering moving here,” Now he’s smiling.

Wilbur's brain starts to go a million miles a second. His heart leaped at the thought of you living closer to him. Seeing you in person everyday seemed like a dream come true. He begins to slow his step and a frown replaces your smile. Your own thoughts running rampant now, assuming you might've freaked him out by voicing that you wanted to move here so soon after meeting him in person. Maybe it made him uncomfortable. it was too soon to say something that bold. You had only just met him in person today.

"Listen, Y/N..."

You stopped and your brain got the best of you with his tone. You shouldn't have said anything like that to him. It was too soon.

“I don’t want to sound cheesy, but I need you to know how I feel.”

Oh... OH.

You knew what this was leading to. Realizing why he was acting the way he was all day.

"I like you, more than like you. You're funny, beautiful, smart, and everything I could've hoped for in a best friend. But I can't keep pretending I don't think of you when we aren't talking, or how when I look at you my chest hurts."

Wilbur liked you. Really liked you. You would jump for joy and shout to the rooftops about how much you reciprocate his feelings but something in the back of your mind told you not to. The doubt in your mind from yourself, both your fans online judging. It made you slowly start to panic. You felt as though you weren’t good enough for him.

You saw the aftermath of when his fans shipped him and Niki together. It almost ruined their friendship. You didn’t want that.

"Please say something?" he stops his rant to notice you are staring up at him with blank eyes.

"I-uh," you stutter. "can we maybe not do this now?"

His face falls and it instantly crushes you with regret. His disappointment shows as he gives you a forced smile and nods.

"Y-yeah, let's catch up with everyone, Tommy wants to do this big stream at his place." he gestures for you to move along with him, all while you feel horrible for doing this.

You wish you could take back what you said. You know you've hurt him, It's painfully obvious when he doesn't talk to you for the rest of the walk. You glance at him a few times but he keeps his eyes forward and stoic.

If only you didn’t let your anxiety get the best of you. You had to talk to him at some point, but for now you pushed it aside. The rest of the group didn’t seem to notice the sudden tension between the two of you, if they did nothing was remarked about it.

As you continued the journey to Tommys flat, you and Wilbur still walked silently side by side. With what little courage you had, you reached out your hand and held his in a moment of truce. Giving it a gentle squeeze with your fingers to seal the deal that you would talk later. You heard his soft inhale at the contact and he squeezes back. Your shoulders drop from the weight of tension being lifted off. Maybe, just maybe this ment this conversation wasn’t over.

Back at Tommy’s, the monitor in his cramped bedroom with everyone packed together like sardines; shows the twitch chat flashing by with viewers comments.

“WELCOME BACK TO THE STREAM EVERYONE!” Tommy shouted causing you to hold your ear in slight pain.

“God Tommy, could you be anymore loud?” you wince.

“Look who’s here chat!” he gestured to you with his hands, ignoring your complaints. You waved at the webcam as chat went crazy. He introduced everyone else as they all broke out into a chorus of conversation.

Wilbur was mostly quiet on your left, an occasional sarcastic comment made here and there. You could practically feel his eyes buring into the side of your head. Hopping chat wasn’t noticing how he was looking at you, your eyes shifting to your lap to fidget with your fingers.

Out of view, Wilbur reached over and took your hand picking at the skin around your nails. You had stopped your nervous tick and opted for squeezing his hand. Nobody seemed to notice the sudden shift in both your behavior.

Suddenly you felt tense, the feeling of having everyone’s eyes on you made your mind start to spiral.

Letting go of Wilburs hand, you quickly had excused yourself and walked out of Tommys room and into the kitchen.

Everyone had a mix of concerned and worried expressions as they watched you leave the room but didn’t say anything about it. Wilbur had followed you in pursuit. He found you in the kitchen hyperventilating Your panic had taken over and now your lungs were paying the price for the burning sensation from not breathing.

“it's okay,” he took your face into his hands and held you. “just follow my breaths.

he took a breath in, and you followed.

When you came to your senses, Wilbur had asked you what was wrong and you just began to cry. Everything came rushing down on you.

“Im sorry. I-Im sorry I shot you down earlier, Im sorry for h-hurting you. I-i,” you stuttered over yourself. Wilbur shakes his head at you. He probably thinks you’re such a mess.

“I don’t understand, I know you like me too, so I don’t understand why you rejected me after I poured my heart out to you. Then you go and hold my hand while we're walking.'

Wilbur was right. Playing with his feelings was selfish and cruel. He was completely in the right to question you. You were practically flirting with one another all day, and then you shut down his advances of trying to open your relationship.

“I do wanna be with you.” you sniff. “I'm just really scared.”

"Why darling? It's just me, your silly old Wil." he pokes at your sides causing you to let out a giggle. Your best friend, who looked at you with the prettiest chocolate eyes, who stayed on call with you all night when you couldn't sleep. The only person you told your deepest fears and dreams to.

You take a shaky inhale as you begin to explain. "I don't wanna ruin our friendship, we have something I've never experienced with anyone else in my life. I care about you too much to let me be a distraction in your life, and I am scared that the fans will-"

Wilbur interrupts you with a hand on your arm.

"The fans? darling who cares about that, I care way too much about you to even care about what strangers think. It's no one's business who I, or you for that matter have a relationship with." he clarified. "I love you and nothing or no one will ever change that."

Those three words made your heart leap in your throat.

"Y-you l-love me?" you stutter in disbelief.

"Yes, of course I do."

Tears roll down the apples of your cheeks as you lean forward to engulf Wilbur into another hug. His arms wrapped around your back reciprocating your embrace. your face buried in his neck as you inhale his cologne and your tears dampen his skin.

"I love you too Wil," you whisper.

He squeezes you closer to him in return and this time you don't hold yourself back...

-

taglist: @trashcanduck @ax-y10 @mysticalsoot @idontreallyexistyet @loonalvjy @toastyliltoasts41

[elitehanitje]

Vince McMahon Sabotaged Christian Cage's Career

In February 2009, Christian made his surprising return to WWE and debuted on the ECW brand. The moment was exciting for fans, as Christian had made a big name for himself during his nearly four-year stint with TNA Wrestling.

Some fans don't look back on the moment fondly though, as commentator Todd Grisham didn't have much enthusiasm in his voice for the return of a legend. As it turns out, Vince McMahon himself instructed Grisham to have a low demeanor about Christian's return to the company.

Right before I walked out of the Gorillia position before the show. Vince McMahon called me over and said, “When Christian walks out..don’t get excited at all simply say ‘it’s Christian’ and that’s it. Understand me?” Me: “Yes sir”

Tony Khan responded to Grisham's post, calling the behavior insane.

In a recent interview, Kurt Angle stated that there isn't much difference between Vince McMahon and the character of 'Mr. McMahon'.

Reacting to a post criticizing his commentary on X, Grisham recalled the infamous moment. The former WWE personality detailed how McMahon ordered him to say those exact words when Christian returned. Grisham could do nothing but accept and follow his boss’ instructions. Over the years, this moment has become a running online joke. 

For some reason, McMahon never saw Christian as a potential main-event talent in WWE. Therefore, Captain Charisma failed to reach similar heights as his best friend, Edge (Adam Copeland). Even after winning his first World Heavyweight Championship, the Canadian star ended up losing the belt in five days. 

The story reignited the long-standing debate around McMahon's supposed dislike of Christian (rumors mentioned that Jay wasn't a yes-man and didn't want to be involved with any shenanigans backstage involving Vince and his bullying/harassment way).

The latter was once one-half of his most profitable tag-team stable with Edge. However, following their diversion into single competitors, the former 'Captain Charisma' was never treated as a prized asset.

Former WWE star Lance Storm confirmed the official WWE program incorrectly billed Christian at 5’ 10” when the man whose real name is William Reso is 3-4 inches taller.

McMahon's old WWE lead writer Alex Greenfield later revealed the billionaire once pitched to have Christian's face covered by a blue dot.

"Right before I started, there was a big show, I think it might have been in Toronto. Christian was just so completely over, and everybody thought he was going to get a push at, I think it was the World Heavyweight Championship at that point. We were on the plane one time shortly after I started, and Vince was just like 'God damn, I just don't like his face. His face really bothers me.'

"I was like, 'He's ugly, Vince?'

'No, it's not that he's ugly, it's just, I don't know, it's ratty!"

WWE executive Bruce Pritchard even waded in on the theory, by explaining McMahon was never a major fan. "[Vince] didn’t feel that [Christian] had the personality to connect with the audience in a big way. He didn’t think he was larger than life and at that time Vince wanted the top guys needed to be larger than life. You needed to be The Rock, needed to be Stone Cold, you needed to be Undertaker. Every time you would come up with an idea for Edge or Christian it would be like okay, there is a lot of excitement there with Edge."

"‘Oh by God, we could do this with him. We could do this with him, a big good-looking bastard and then we’d get to Christian and it would just be, ‘Ugh, God, do we have to shoot him? Do we have to see that face? The fuck’s he gonna say?!’"

Even after winning his first World Heavyweight Championship, Christian ended up losing the belt within five days.

He inducted long-term partner Edge into the WWE Hall of Fame in 2012 but is conspicuous by his own absence from the list over a decade later. The veteran wasn't offered a new WWE contract following a separate return at the Royal Rumble in 2021.

He has since found a home in AEW under Tony Khan's leadership, who reacted to Grisham's story further in an additional post that read: "Christian Cage is the man."

[morningstargirl666]

what are your top ten favorite klaroline fics?

Ooooo let me think... in no particular order:

The Lost Prince & The Eternal Queen by @3tinkgemini /3tingemini

Oh this is a beloved favourite. Caroline's a werewolf alpha and Klaus, fresh from breaking his curse, searches her pack out to turn them into hybrids. Instead of forces them to turn, Caroline makes a deal with him, teaching him what it means to be who they are, offering him a place in her pack and if by a certain amount of time her pack want to become hybrids, he may turn as many as he wishes. It's got some great lore and delves nicely into Klaus' werewolf side. I adore it.

The Stubborn Grace of Being Loved Regardless by @helpless-in-sleep / perfectpro

Also an all-time favourite, this fic is beautiful. Caroline isn't turned into a vampire and when Klaus rolls into town, she's still human. That doesn't deter his affections. AND DID I MENTION YOU GET TO SEE HIM IN WOLF FORM? NO? WELL YOU DO AND I AM STILL NOT OVER IT 😭😭😭

Wisteria by @little-miss-sunny-daisy / sunnydaisy

Caroline meets Klaus before he comes to Mystic Falls, without realising he is in fact, The Klaus, The Original Hybrid. A beautiful love story unfolds that leaves you all soft and gooey inside.

The Howling by @bellemorte180 / BelleMorte180

I LOVE the idea of this two-shot. It's a werewolf mate au - wherein both Klaus and Caroline are werewolves. There's also ✨Damon murder✨ Need I say more?

From The Eastern Mountains by @cupcakemolotov / Cupcakemolotov

Read this not too long ago actually and kicked myself for not finding it sooner. In between grieving her mother, travelling and finding her own place in the world, Caroline keeps bumping into Klaus. The scene at the market haS changed me on a fundamental level, i even don't know why that scene's the most vivid for me but it is. There's just something so mundane about it. AND HELL YES WE GET KLAUS IN WOLF FORM!!! Go forth and read.

Their Nightly Ritual by bellamywinchester

A fic from my ffnet days, this has got to be a contender for my favourite kc fic of all time. Again, there's just something so mundane about it, even with all the supernatural shenanigans - I guess I have a type? I NEED THE DOMESTICITY OKAY? Caroline and Klaus exchange phone calls while she's in college, diverging from season 5 canon.

Blood and A Quick Murder (and isn't that how it always is?) by @ks-caster / KS_Caster

A beautiful character study on how Caroline will always come first in Klaus' books. It explores a really unique idea I've never seen before, and if you like this one-shot you should definitely check out ks-caster's Red Queen series too, which diverges from canon at season 4.

Till I Tasted You by @kirythestitchwitch / KiryTheStitchWitch

GOD this fic is a favourite because never have I ever been ruined so severely by one line of dialogue: “As if I could be jealous of a boy who has no concept of what it is like to touch the sun and then spend a millennium looking for daylight in every strangers’ face.” YOU SEE??? HOW WILL I FIND LOVE NOW THIS IS MY STANDARD???

[muffled screaming]

Wicked Schemes by willowaus

This one is probably on every klaroline rec list, but eh, I don't care. It's a good classic. I love that its set in New Orleans and Caroline gets her own powers. It also has Klaus in wolf form and any fic that has that instantly earns my seal of approval, as you should know by now.

the fate makes for a lousy poet by @stars-and-darkness / for_darkness_shows_the_stars

I binged this in a morning and after I finished it I was left shell shocked, in that high state after a fic has completely changed you on a spiritual level where you don't know how to move on with your life. I just remember lying atop my bed and staring at the ceiling like??? What do I do now??? What was I doing before I read this??? Fuck if I know. It's an amazing fic, canon divergent from season 3, a tattoo soulmate au with brilliant appearances from Kol, Elijah and Rebekah as well. And hey, in my shell shock after reading it I left an essay-length comment on the fic and now I'm best mates with the author. Our tastes literally align so perfectly it's like we share the same brain cell, so I could probably make a top ten klaroline fic list out of Ella's fics alone - every fic of hers takes all my hopes and dreams and weaves them into art. So check her stuff out, and not just the popular ones either (she's also got an amnesia au in the works which has me FERAL so come help me pester her to finish it)

[tgmsunmontue]

I never knew I was missing you 4/? WIP

Jake is just trying to find a connection. Shame the guy he connects with the most is lying about his identity online; because he sure as hell isn't A-list Hollywood star Bradley Bradshaw.

ONE TWO THREE

PART FOUR

                “First though, I’ve got something I need to take care of…”

                “Yeah?” Brad asks; and there’s a mad scramble of the phone, he sees a flash of nostrils up close and god, Brad is complete and utter dork. Cute with it though, he thinks, and also technologically inept as he clearly presses the phone against his head without turning the camera off, so all Jake can see is diffused dark orange and red shadows of what is probably his hand. But he does feel like Brad in closer now, his breathing still gasping gratifyingly as he lets out a groan. It makes Jake’s toes curl. “Let me see?”

                “Of course…” Jake says, and he angles the camera down his own body, even if his own view is no longer Brad’s body but some squished up part of either his face or hand depending on whatever camera he still has on. He wants to ask him to hold his phone out, so he can see his face, finally get a good look at him, but then it’s shifting anyway so Brad can look at the screen of his phone and Jake sees him properly. Oh. He definitely has more than a passing resemblance to Bradley Bradshaw, although he has a beard and much longer hair, and it’s a riot of gorgeous looking curls that Jake wants to run his hands through. He is not disappointed in the slightest. God, maybe his name is actually Brad too.

                “Hi…” he says, voice soft and Brad blushes and Jake smiles at him, gut doing a little flip that this is the guy he’s been chatting with for the last couple of weeks and he’s better than Jake ever imagined.

                “Hi…”

                “You want to watch me huh?”

                “Yeah. Please…”

                “Fuck, yeah. Give me a second…” Jake says.

                He wasn’t wearing anything to begin with, the photo he’d sent over an hour ago had been from an hour before that, because it had taken him that long to decide to actually send it, nerves a little frayed about sending something so overtly sexual despite their flirting just getting more and more blatant he’d left some of their conversations needing to jerk off. Right now he reaches for the lube and squeezes some out, mumbling about what he’s doing so Brad can hear him. He has no idea what his camera is showing right now, just has to hope it’s not too embarrassing a sight, suspects it’s likely the ceiling or bedsheets.

                Then he’s picking his phone up again; Brad’s face comes back into view and he’s biting his bottom lip, it’s all pink and wet and Jake can’t stop staring. He moans when Brad’s tongue comes out to lick his lips and then his mouth is just open, lower lip trembling ever so slightly and Jake imagines those same lips around his cock and grasps his cock with a slick hand. He works himself hard and fast, his cock definitely more than interested knowing that Brad is watching him avidly, and Jake never realized he might have a bit of an exhibitionist streak, but apparently, he’s not too old to be learning new things about himself.

                There’re no clear spoken words between them, just Brad staring at Jake through the screen of his phone and god he wants to be in the same room as him, have his hands on his skin, have Brad’s hands and lips on his body. This is all a step closer; his orgasm punches out of him, catching him by surprise and his body shudders through it as he swears under his breath. He’s really going to have to change the sheets on his bed now.

                “Still want to lick you clean…” Brad says, and his voice sounds rough and Jake lets out a broken little laugh.

                “I’ll let you sweetheart. Trust me. I’ll let you. Fuck.” He doesn’t want to say that the second orgasm was better than the first, it feels a little unguarded to admit that. Fortunately Brad doesn’t seem to notice or care, his eyes just dark and intense and yeah, he could definitely pass as Bradley Bradshaw if he wanted to.

                “I’ll call you later. Tomorrow at the latest. Set up a date?” Brad asks, tone unsure like Jake is going to say no.

                “Sounds good. Talk to you later.”

…            …            …

                He takes a quick shower, grins at himself in the mirror and feels so damned good, and it’s not just the post-orgasm high. Jake had seen his face and not freaked out. Hadn’t even seemed to care at all. Had just smiled at him and looked gorgeous and hot and so happy that it had made Bradley feel so relieved. He pulls on sweat pants and scrubs at his hair to dry it as he walks out to the smaller shared kitchen that they use when it’s just the three of them.

                “Ugh. There’s a Bradley that just got his rocks off.”

                “Perk of being a lifelong friend.”

                “Peril. You mispronounced peril.”

                Bradley just laughs, in too much of a good mood for Neil’s teasing to have any impact.

                “So you took my advice huh?”

                “Yep. Video called him.”

                “Great. So all the misunderstandings are cleared up then.”

                Bradley blinks, a sinking feeling in his stomach. Jake definitely saw his face, but there wasn’t any sudden look of realization on his face that Bradley is in fact Bradley Bradshaw.

                “Uh… maybe? I… yeah. I think so?”

                “You think so? Did he not say anything along the lines of holy shit, you’re actually really Bradley Bradshaw?”

                “No?”

                Neil rubs at the space between his eyes and then his brow and forehead.

                “Oh my god… right now you look like a fucking basement dweller. You’re lucky Callie has better things to do than shave you in your sleep.”

                “What?”

                “He didn’t recognize you, you complete fucking idiot. I mean… clearly he still thinks you’re hot. I mean, he did see your face right?”

                “Uh… it wasn’t exactly pointed at my face to begin with…”

                The expression on Neil’s face turns pained again, the forehead rubbing has resumed and Bradley is starting to freak out. Neil’s right, Jake hadn’t reacted, maybe he should have shaved. He collapses onto the sofa beside Neil.

                “Give me your phone.”

                “What?”

                “Give me your phone,” Neil repeats.

                Bradley hands it over, leans in close to watch as Neil unlocks it, because of course both he and Callie know his passcode.

                “What are going to do?”

                “Shh…” Neil mutters, rolling his eyes and then he’s going to recent calls and Bradley realizes what he’s going to do and makes a grab for it. Too late, it’s already calling Jake, and he hasn’t even had time to make him a contact in his phone, it’s just a number. He doesn’t even know if Jake will answer; yes he said he’d call him back, but it’s not even been thirty minutes. This is mortifying on so many levels.

                “You missing me already?” Jake asks, and Neil has put him on speaker. It’s Bradley’s turn to rub at his forehead, glaring at Neil while he does so.

                “No. I’m definitely not missing you. Jake right?”

                “Yeah. Who’s this? You’re not Brad…”

                “You’re right, I’m not Bradley. My name is Neil Vikander. I live with Bradley. Can I change this to a video call?”

                “Uh, I guess? Why?”

                “We need to clear something up and my friend is an idiot of awardwinning calibre.”

                “Fuck you too Neil…” Bradley mutters under his breath.

                “Hi Jake, I’d like to introduce you to Bradley Bradshaw. Yes. That one. He is an idiot and currently hasn’t shaved in over two weeks, but I’ll go and get his license if you need actual proof.”

                Neil has passed him back his phone and he cups it in his hands, stares down at Jake’s face which is looking stunned. Bradley’s stomach is churning, suddenly terrified that Jake is going to hang up, or run, or… fuck. Never talk to him again.

                “Holy shit, you’re really Bradley Bradshaw…”

                “Yeah. I mean… I did keep trying to tell you…”

                “You have a beard…”

                Bradley’s not quite sure why that’s a sticking point.

                “He hates shaving…” Neil says, leaning over so Jake can see his face in screen and Bradley wants to shove him away as much as he wants Neil to give him a hug and tell him it’s all going to be alright. “You really need to shave. Pretty sure you don’t want your first kiss to be a mimicry of Planet of the Apes…”

                “Neil…” Bradley groans, but Jake is snorting in what Bradley really hopes is amusement, and he hasn’t ended the call. He lets hope flare to life. “I can take it from here thanks.”

                “I expect a mention in the best man speech! Actually, I expect to be best man!”

                “Oh my god, please ignore him…”

                “Holy shit. It’s really you… since when do you need help getting a date? Using fucking dating apps?”

                “Callie made the profile…”

                “And yet you used it… This doesn't feel real.”

                “Yeah well, she had some valid points. Some people only like me for the fame, or what I can do for them…”

                “Well, I gotta say, you do things for me… I’m just also very interested in reciprocating.”

                Bradley knows he’s blushing, curses the fact that his complexion shows it so clearly.

                “You getting shy on me now?”

                “No. Yeah. Maybe? I don’t know…”

                “Eloquent. You’re pretty fucking adorable you know that? Biggest nerd I think I know, and trust me, I know a few…”

                “So. Can I take you out?”

                “Hell yeah you can. You can show me your pinball machine collection.”

                “I’d like that. Plus I’ll shave.”

                “Uh. Can you leave the moustache?”

                Bradley grins slowly.

                “Yeah, I can do that.”

FIVE

[beatingdrumspouringwine]

Hi there! I've recently taken more of an interest in Hellenism, but I don't at all know where to start. I've never really been religious before, only really knowing the basics of Christianity. I did see you created a post of advice for beginner Hellenists, but I was wondering, if it's not too much trouble, if you had any additional information for someone like me who's just starting out.

Hello anon! Sorry for how long it took to write this up, I definitely went a little bit wild on this one :)

First off, welcome to Hellenic Polytheism! It's definitely a wild ride, but depending on what sect of Christianity you come from, it's not completely and totally foreign.

Starting off with a list of some websites, general resources, and accounts that I have found helpful:

theoi.com

Apostolos Athanassakis translations of the Orphic and Homeric Hymns

Hellenic Polytheism: Household Worship by Labrys

Hellenion.org

@khaire-traveler's Subtle Worship Master List

@thegrapeandthefig's Wordpress

And now breaking them all down, because I love when people justify their choices to me :)

theoi.com The nice thing about this website is that it's about as much information about the Gods as you can possibly want in one place. Not only does it seemingly have just about every possible deity in the Greek pantheon, but it has an incredibly good collection of historical references, family trees, and even artwork from ancient Greece.

Apostolos Athanassakis translations While theoi.com is good, I'm not the biggest fan of the version of the translations that they use for the Orphic and Homeric Hymns - they're a bit too "translated" for me. This meaning that the translations in question don't sit too close to the original text, and in my opinion, if you're trying to understand a deity through some ancient work, you want to get the closest translation to the original, even if that means sacrificing some of the flowery language. And Athanassakis' translations are some of my favorite for those "close translation" hymns. You can find his work on the Internet Archives.

Hellenic Polytheism: Household Worship I think this is one of those staples that every Hellenic Polytheist should take a look at at least once. It's pretty dry, but within it, there are plenty of rituals and general information on Hellenism as a religion. I don't use most of the rituals in it, but even still, I keep a copy on hand for the future when I'm able to practice more freely.

Hellenion.org This is a pretty good resource for more modern Hellenic Polytheist prayers, as well as rituals. This is a more heavy reconstructionist lean (which focuses on an accurate recreation of Hellenic Polytheism, as opposed to revivalism, which focuses on recreating it for the modern day), but still incredibly helpful, and a bit easier to understand than Hellenic Polytheism: Household Worship.

@khaire-traveler's subtle worship masterlist Honestly, if a resource like this existed when I was first starting out, I would be light years ahead of where I am now. Stag has managed to fit just about every idea you'd need to get started with worship/offerings into an easy-to-digest format, and I find myself going back to it time and time again when I start incorporating a new deity into my practice.

@thegrapeandthefig's Wordpress I don't even think I could summarize how amazing Aurora is into one little paragraph. There's everything on her Wordpress from historical offerings, to modern festivals, to dissections of various ancient customs. One of the things which has helped me the most from her blog has been her Attic calendar, which shows the schedule of the various religious observations throughout the year (and there are a lot).

Finally, a few extra words of advice that I might not have included in my original post that you mentioned in the ask:

Try to have one prayer memorized for each deity, if you're easily able to memorize things. Chances are, after about a year or so, you'll probably have a prayer or two that you really like and will have memorized because you've said it enough (I definitely have my fair share). And there's definitely something nice about finding yourself in a situation that reminds you of your deity and being able to just rattle off a prayer.

Try to avoid TikTok for your spiritual knowledge. But, if you want to add a bit of Hellenic flair to your FYP, I'd recommend Bria Melitta and hesiodic (who's also on here and maybe on TikTok as well [I might be wrong, haven't been on TikTok in a hot minute] under the name @olympianbutch). Both of these creators are really good, and I especially love Dagan for his devotion to Zeus, who often gets a bad rap from new practitioners because of behavior attributed to Him in myths.

Other than the resources I mentioned, some good stuff for casual reading would be: the Iliad and the Odyssey, any ancient Greek plays (I'd recommend starting with Aristophanes, if the tragedies are a bit too heavy), and Hesiod's Theogony.

And that's about all I can possibly think of throwing at you right now! I hope this came in handy, and as always, if you have more questions, please feel free to drop more in my ask box :) I'm always more than happy to answer questions and help to the best of my ability!

[muneca-lemon-steppa]

Interviews for New Beginnings: Part 1

Alfie Solomons x Fem!Reader, Fluff

Word Count: 1.8k

Warnings: Swearing, Period Era Sexism

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first fic in over a year, but I dont know I just wanted to have fun! Also lets be real... i needed these ideas out of my head. Please enjoy, have fun! Have an amazing rest of your day! Hi everyone!!! So this became a multi chapter story! This has been so much fun and I am so excited to see where this story goes! If you are interested in continuing this story, go to my tags and click ‘Interviews for New Beginnings’ there all parts will be together! Eventually I’ll put together a master list for it! Love you guys so much, I’m so glad you guys are having fun!!

You had heard about this job from your cousin Eli. And maybe that should’ve been the first clue that perhaps this may not have been a completely legal or safe or upstanding or above the table or whatever good adjective your parents could come up with position. But you had told Eli that you needed a job! And he did find you one! And your parents should be overjoyed that you will be working in the same “bakery” as a male cousin. It’s not proper for a woman to be working without a family member’s presence… especially where there are other men in the office.

“When you go in there be sure to look strong, but not too strong, emphasize that you’re docile and you want to please him.” Eli had been quizzing you about your skill sets and how you were to behave in the interview the entire walk to “The Bakery”. And while Eli was so sweet and more of a brother than a cousin… you couldn’t keep your irritation at bay.

“Tell me Eli… am I interviewing for the position of personal secretary or personal wh-“

“And don’t be so quick with that mouth of yours! Listen… Mr. Solomons is one of the most important men in Camden. This could be a really big opportunity for you. Being the personal secretary of one of the biggest names in the city can give you a steady income and some real independence! But that means you can’t be so…”

“Myself?” You say with a cocked brow and a bumped hip.

Eli’s eyes lit up as if a child he had been teaching finally understood arithmetic, “yes! Yes exactly! Listen while you’re in front of Mr. Solomons, it’s ‘yes sir’ and no questions asked. Got it?”

You sigh and roll your eyes. It felt like you had had this conversation so many times in different ways. Why did your parents care to educate you so much if you weren’t allowed to use your mind? You had asked your father many times, if God gave you a mouth and brain, why shouldn’t you be allowed to use them? And he was never really able to answer beyond a couple phrases talking about the ‘role of women’. You had just been fired from a doctor’s office due to talking back to an unruly patient. Truthfully, this was your last shot to get real independence. It was either this job… or letting your parents begin the process of finding a husband.

You finally reach the door of the bakery, and Eli turns you toward him to fix your hair and straighten your sweater, “Ok ok. Here we are dearest. Now just follow me, don’t make eye contact with everyone and just… be good.”

You chuckle out a, “Yes mum.”

With a laugh he shoves your arm, and gives his name to the young man standing by the door. With a nod he opens the door and lets you in, quickly following Eli’s steps.

While Eli said you couldn’t make eye contact with anyone he never said you couldn’t look at the bakery. It didn’t take you long to notice that while all the men were wearing aprons… there was a distinct lack of… bread… or anything to do with bread. Soon after this you began to feel that memorable tickle in your nose. Rum you thought to yourself. With a smirk you ran up behind Eli and whispered, “Wow quite the bakery Eli. Does the family know about your little rum house job?”

His face was pale, and he was clearly in no mood to joke. With a huff you returned to your previous pace, and you see that the office is just ahead.

Suddenly you feel the flush in your neck, and begin to steel yourself. You had of course heard about Mr. Alfred Solomons. The King of Camden. The Brave War Captain turned Ruthless Gangster. Eli was not kidding when he said that Mr. Solomons was one of the most important people in the city. He ruled the community. This was not the time and place for your mouth to act up. This was the time to behave and play it safe.

Eli rapped the door of the private office gently, and was met with a gruff, "What now!?"

Eli with a shaking hand opened the door, "Mr. Solomons? It's me Eli I..."

"What the fuck do you want eh? Come on now yeah you interrupt me and just stand there acting like you've been struck dumb by God. Come on!!"

Eli kept stammering, basically useless, so you stepped up, "Mr. Solomons, I'm Eli's cousin. I'm here for the secretary position."

Mr. Solomons eyebrows furrowed, looking you up and down. You couldn't help but feel like a child in front of his stare. Fiery, discerning, and just plain terrifying. "You said you're here for what?"

"The secretary position. My cousin said you were in need of a secretary."

Mr. Solomons looked at Eli and looked at you, "And you think you're qualified for a secretary position?"

The heat in your chest started to grow. And you could feel your temper begging to be let out. But you had to make a good impression. You needed this job. You needed to be sweet and to behave.

You nodded, "Yes sir, I can assure you I am I-"

"I'm sorry treacle but this simply will not do." Mr. Solomons cut you off. "What I am doing here right? I'm running a legitimate business. I am running something very difficult that little girls like you simply could not deal with yeah? Now run along and go do whatever young girls do yeah?"

"Mr. Solomons I-"

"Treacle now you're making me a little frustrated right, I said run along now."

You could feel the heat rising and rising, and Eli tugging at your sleeve, "Mr. Solomons if you will just listen-"

Mr. Solomons rose from his desk, "WHO THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU ARE I SAID LEAVE."

"I AM YOUR NEW SECRETARY DAMNIT."

The room went silent. The entire bakery went silent. And from the corner of your eye you can see different men pausing, waiting to see what would happen next.

Alfred Solomons, for the first time in his life, was left speechless. The last woman who had yelled at him was his mother. Usually, women run and hide from him upon the first interaction. Men have wet themselves from his bellowing. Yet... this little woman is standing here, screaming at him, demanding to be heard. He did not know what to do, he could only stare at her.

You tried to be good. You really did try! But it was too late now. Mr. Solomons was just staring at you, and you had a point to make.

"Mr. Solomons, I am the most capable secretary that you will ever have walk through these doors. I am fluent in Russian, Yiddish, Hebrew, and French. Not only can I read and write, I was the best in my class in maths. I am a damn good baker, though clearly you do not need my services there. I am incredibly punctual and polite and am able to talk to anyone. And to top it all off, I make a very good cup of tea. Now I put on my best dress and shoes and I walked 45 minutes to get to your ridiculous office and I will be damned if I will leave here without a job! Do I have your attention now sir?"

While you were speaking Alfred Solomons had slowly lowered himself into his seat, with a smile on his face. He was stroking his beard, considering your fiery eyes, and the shape of your lips while you yelled at him. He began to laugh to himself, "Come sit down treacle. Eli, get the fuck out, stand by the door."

You turned to look at your cousin, but he had already closed the door behind him. You walked to the desk where Mr. Solomons was sitting, and took a seat directly in front of him. Where he had been leaning back in his chair, he was now leaning forward on the desk, resting on his elbows on top of a thick layer of papers. His eyes twinkled, and a handsome smirk played on his lips. Your rage was still simmering, and it was hating you for staring at those eyes.

"You can read and write?"

"Yes."

"How fast can you type?"

"80 words per minute."

"You're good at math?"

"You want to put a slate in front of me and have me recite a King's speech as well Mr. Solomons?"

He barked out a laugh, "Fuck me. You've got a sharp tongue on you don't you?"

"I have language why not use it."

"Fucking hell...alright listen here you little viper. I want you here every morning at 8 o'clock. Ready to work. You will have many a late night in this job. You will be my personal secretary, which means when I say "come here", I better see you before I finish that sentence. You'll need to write letters for me as well as manage my meetings alright? You will be my shadow. Any questions?"

"What is my salary?"

He paused, staring at you, seemingly trying to see how low you would take, "4 pounds a week."

"6"

"Good Lord what do you need 6 pounds a week for? 4 and a half and thats generous."

"Mr. Solomons I'm not stupid I know what you do. You need me. You want to become a respectable businessman you need someone like me to make sure your affairs are in order. I know you are working with many different people, and you need my abilities. I am the best you will ever have. 5 and a half."

Alfred keeps stroking his beard...wondering how the hell Eli could be related to someone so strong... and how much it was going to cost to keep you, "5 pounds a week. And I will give you a Hanukkah bonus."

"...And Rosh Hoshannah off."

"Done."

You stood to shake his hand, firmly, though he kept smirking as he shook yours. "Alright my little viper, I will see you tomorrow. Bring ink and a notebook. We start at 8."

"Thank you Mr. Solomons. You won't regret this!"

"Alfie. You will call me Alfie from now on."

The way he said it while staring into your eyes brought a heat to your cheeks, and you prayed that he couldn't see any change in your demeanor. "Alfie." You whispered as you nodded and walked away.

He couldn't help but linger there in that moment, watching you walk away, speaking animatedly with Eli. Never had he ever felt so... struck by a woman before. He had women before of course, but no woman had captivated him the way you just did. He needed you. He needed you with him, in any way that you allowed him to have you near. Maybe this was a mistake, but he highly doubted it. How could a mistake be so beautiful?

"OLLIE!" He yelled, "WE NEED A DESK AND CHAIR NOW!"

[wolfiemcwolferson]

"watching a movie or show that they know they're interested in" for piarles ofc :)))

Well.

Part two of this....

It's selfish.

It's completely and totally selfish.

Ferrari lines up a list of people they've vetted and approved and Charles smiles at them and says no to each and every one until they throw their hands up and ask him what he wants - who he wants.

The phone call is probably all of five minutes of Charles talking too fast and Pierre humming any second that Charles is not speaking, but he agrees at the end of it and Charles promises him the money will be good, and then he feels bad about it for a whole ten days.

Because Pierre is proud of the life he clawed out for himself after and he has a lot of pride in his job and it's never been about the money, but Charles knows that it will be nice for Pierre to not worry about things so much...and also it's selfish.

Charles doesn't see him enough - talk to him enough - and maybe it's ridiculous or childish that he is 27 and still fully in love with someone that has no idea and will never love him back, but he thinks he deserves to be a little selfish after last season.

Pierre returns the signed contract and Charles spends the two weeks before their arranged pre-season training camp trying to make everything perfect.

He has so many opinions about the branded Ferrari gear that they send for Pierre, he ends up ordering some himself in the designs and sizes he wants.

Charles gets in an honest to god shouting match with the hotel because they tell him they have no adjoining rooms when Charles knows that's not true, and Joris looks at him so sharply that Charles goes to his room to hide and when he comes back out, Joris has booked them a house.

He triple checks with the rental company that they have all of Pierre's listed foods that he wants to incorporate into Charles' diet and he downloads roughly 280 hours of US American sitcoms because that used to be the way Pierre liked to unwind.

Charles has no idea if he still likes that because the last two years...well, the last two years have been about Charles.

Charles losing the championship, Charles in the bad car, Charles dealing with an injury.

And when Pierre would come to a race, it was about Charles. When Charles would call Pierre, it was about Charles.

That's why it's so selfish. Because this is still about Charles.

He has nothing to offer Pierre except for a little bit of money and paddock passes for all of his brothers at any race they want and 280 hours of various sitcoms that hopefully will be a balm for Pierre after a turbulent flight or a long triple header or Charles being a little shit in the gym because he's tired.

my flight got cancelled, Pierre texts as Charles is googling where he can buy Season 1 of that one show with the lesser Chris from those Marvel movies. I can hop on one to nice tonight instead? get on the jet with you tomorrow? let me know

yes, Charles texts back faster than he ever has, I am just downloading sitcoms for you

Pierre doesn't text back for a long time. For so long that Charles is considering using that silly unsend option in imessage, but finally he responds.

I think I am the one meant to be taking care of you this season? but thank you, cha and then there's a screenshot of his new flight that lands in six hours

Charles is trying to determine if he can go get him - if he can risk going to get him, or maybe Joris, he could work that out, surely. He could work that out.

I am looking forward to watching sitcoms with you on planes

It's not much - it's hardly anything. But, Charles is looking forward to the long season with many planes and a lot of Pierre.

[piratefalls]

oh my god this got obscenely long. you're welcome?

list one. list two. list three. list four.

Any Beat of Your Heart (Gets Me Through the Night) by stellarmeadow

Alex throws out the first pitch at the Opening Day baseball game, but things go horribly wrong.

kiss me once 'cause you know by ninzied

Of all the things they’ve been to one another—sometimes-rivals, reluctant allies, tediously cordial seatmates at international events—Henry never thought that he and Alex would end up being something like friends. (In which Alex sort of moves in and they don't talk about what it means.)

Mr. BodyPillow by inexplicablymine

“It is hard enough trying to get a date out here when all I really want is to curl up with someone’s head on my chest and play with their hair” “I could do that for you sweetheart” _______ Two boys cuddling on a couch right on top of each other because they are in fact very gay™. Inviting over a complete stranger for cuddles because you are touch starved might be the worst idea Henry has ever had, or the best.

Little Moments by politics_and_prose

Five significant moments in Alex's political career and one in his personal life.

The Case Of The Fucking Curse by everwitch

Henry gets inflicted by a deadly royal curse. The only way to break it is to have sex with a person who possesses the correct physical compatibility, so the crown puts out a desperate plea for people meeting the right criteria to enter a screening process. You’ll never guess who turns out to be the final candidate at the end. Or: the most wholesome Fuck Or Die you’ve read in your life.

You Got Me, and Baby I Got You by princebutt

Alexander Claremont-Diaz, charismatic center for the NHL's Dallas Stars, is completely and utterly smitten with the posh British librarian he met by complete accident. Tonight is the night, and he's got a plan to completely woo Henry and get his man.

cowboy like me by stutteringpeach

Alex was looking for money tonight. And with Henry Mountchristen-Windsor, the gorgeous young heir to the Windsor Group, he sure as hell found it. If Alex is looking to charm someone out of their millions, it might as well be someone he’s going to enjoy stealing from.

but if you could see us from a distance, you'd know i've always been so close to you by anincompletelist (soldouthaz)

Objectively, standing half-soaked from rainwater with a stitch in his side and an uncomfortable, raging hard-on outside his worst enemy’s door is not Henry’s finest moment. It’s not even on the list. -- or, henry is afflicted with a curse-gone-wrong that stipulates that only his sworn enemy, alex claremont-diaz, can touch him.

(did my love aid and abet you?) by alasse

That night in Kensington Palace, Henry told Alex to leave. Eleven years later, Alex watches on the news as Henry comes out, and abdicates. A story of what came before, and what comes after.

It’s been eleven fucking years, and Henry is finally free.  It’s been eleven fucking years, and Henry is finally out.  It’s been eleven fucking years, and Alex Claremont-Diaz still hasn’t learned how to be normal about Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor.

it's a scene (and we're out here in plain sight) by annesbonny

"I don’t want us to be in the press for anything other than how good I am at polo, and how charming you look in that shirt.” Henry just wants the Fifth Annual Okonjo Foundation Polo Match to run smoothly, but that's harder than it seems.

lover, tell me if you can by loyaulte_me_lie

Henry has a wobble on their first anniversary. They practise healthy communication and everything ends happily.

Debasing the Prince (And Other Inappropriate Decisions) by orphan_account

Henry in a suit and tie turns Alex into a combination of the heart-eyed and drooling emojis. He can't help it that the goddamned prince of England looks glorious all dressed up. So he meets him in his bedroom and does super inappropriate things with the tie and the prince. This is basically Tale of the Debauchery of a Prince™.

Soon You'll Get Better (Because You Have To) by wafflesandkruge

Two nights after the shooting, Henry receives an email with a pre-recorded video from Alex. He gets one every night, and although it breaks his heart to see Alex happy and alive, he's terrified of when they'll stop coming.

(when you look like that) i never ever wanted to be so bad by hipsterchrist

“How many times have I told you now?” Henry asks, voice still quiet. “In the bedroom, we’re equals.” Alex knows a door left ajar intentionally when he sees it.“ But we’re not in the bedroom, are we?” he mutters. Henry smirks and turns away. Alex nearly falls over trying to follow the loss of Henry’s hand on his face. “It certainly would seem that way,” Henry says, loud and clear, leaning against the wall again. “And so I will have to insist on some degree of deference. Do you think you can manage that?” Or, Alex has a fantasy involving a tack room and Henry's polo uniform, and Henry is all too happy to fulfill it.

if i ever saw you try to be a saint by inmoonlightigetseasick

He turns back, waiting for further instruction from Luna when Henry actually gets up and approaches him to talk. “I must apologize about the hour,” he says, faking sincerity so well Alex recants his doubts about Henry’s acting chops, “this was my fault, I have a shoot for a music video later today and after that I’m on a flight back to jolly old England as it were, loads of publicity for the latest album.” “You sound like a busy guy,” Alex says, with a small, tight smile, “sure you’ll have time for our little movie?” “I will make the time,” he says, his eyes are a bottomless blue, they shine, deceptively truthful, he turns to Luna, “I cannot tell you how great an honour it is to be considered for this role. What you’ve done here,” he gestures to his script, “I think it’s amazing.” Alex hates that Henry is right. -- AU in which Alex is an up-and-coming actor slated to star in in-demand director Rafael Luna's highly anticipated queer coming-of-age film. For Alex, keen to share his own bisexuality with the world, it's the perfect project to be his true starmaking vehicle -- but for one thing-- his nemesis Henry Fox, a wildly popular rock star, might end up playing his love interest.

searching low in the night by saltfics

“Just say it's okay. I just need to hear you say that.” Henry steps outside for just a second, but when Alex goes to find him, he finds only empty streets and an excrutiating feeling of dread in his place.

whenever you're ready by perfect-porcelain (tedddylupin)

“Pez. Please, will you stop tagging me in TikTok thirst traps?” Henry asked as he stepped into his friend’s car. Pez lowered his Gucci sunglasses on his nose, looking at Henry without anything obscuring his vision and just laughed before pushing them back up with his middle finger. “Don’t fucking lie to me, I know you love them.” Or: the one where Henry falls in lust with a TikToker making pottery and leaves drunken thirst comments

hold me close (when the cameras are off) by viciouslyqueer

Henry Fox is a very well-known model. It’s hard to name a magazine he hasn’t been on the cover of, or a photographer that isn’t ready to drop everything just to book a shoot with him. Now he’s barely smiling, slightly parted lips, yet somehow still looking kind as the photographer behind the camera takes picture after picture. His pristine blond hair is delicately styled so it doesn’t fall out of place, and the cherry blossom flowers next to him and beige background give him an angelic look that makes people in the studio stop what they’re doing just to watch. He looks beautiful. Alex hates it. — When models Alex and Henry have to pose together for a shoot, Alex realizes he might not hate Henry after all.

it was you he gave me by coffeecatsme

The tattoo artist traces Alex’s thigh with a gloved finger as she grabs the needle, brows furrowed as if she’s trying to make sense of the lettering. “This is beautiful,” she says, awe in her voice. Alex feels a sort of pride surge through him. “Who’s the poet?” Alex smiles. “If I tell you, can you keep a secret?” Or, Alex finds a pen in their sex toy drawer and Henry finds a use for it.

yours for the afternoon by railmedaddy

“Another day then, tomorrow? Or Saturday, I can do Saturday, I’ll give you my number,” Hunter says, starting to reach for Henry’s phone. Henry knocks it off the table and prays it doesn’t crack. Christ. Is he going to have to leave the coffee shop to get rid of Hunter? He bends down to pick his phone up and when he rights himself, Hunter is waiting expectantly with his hand out for Henry’s phone. He drops it into his bag under the table. “Very kind of you Hunter, but I’m really quite booked up and—" “Sorry I’m late, sweetheart,” comes a drawl Henry vaguely recognises. OR Henry is quietly minding his own business in his favourite coffee shop, when he’s rudely interrupted by an insufferable man attempting to flirt with him. He’s rescued by none other than Alex – a fellow cafe regular who he’s long admired from a distance – posing as his date.

Háblame dulce by QueenKatelynTheAristocrat

"Alex gently drew Henry back to the waking world on a lazy Tuesday morning in their brownstone with a kiss, a cup of Earl Gray, and the words, “Hoy, hablamos español.” Also known as: Henry is learning Spanish for Alex, and Alex is happy to help him.

5 Times Alex Went Viral (+1 Time Henry Did) by clottedcreamfudge

Alex downloads TikTok on a Saturday and by Monday he's completely obsessed. Henry is clearly a little bewildered by this, but he doesn't seem to mind when Alex starts singing sea shanties and trying - with limited success - to harmonise with himself in the shower. *** aka FicTok (aka ‘Five times Alex tested TikTok trends on Henry and one time Henry got his own back’) (aka 'Five times Alex made life hard for Henry and one time Henry just made Alex hard' - you can blame ifyoustay for that one)

Slide, Crawl into the Shades of Light by Mags (sparklepocalypse)

Eventually, they part long enough to buckle their seatbelts, and then the car eases forward in the direction of Kensington Palace. Alex reaches across the seat and cups Henry’s cheek. “You’ve been biting your lips again,” he notes, rubbing a thumb over the rough skin. “When we get back to the apartment we should run a bath, and maybe after, I can make you some tea.” Henry smiles – and it nearly reaches his eyes – and covers Alex’s hand with his own. “That sounds wonderful,” he murmurs. “It’s been a long week.” (Post-movie; Alex and Henry doing that transcontinental couple life thing, and Henry's had a shit week. Alex gives him several orgasms about it.)

A Tiny Shred of Hope by cmere

Henry reacts in the immediate aftermath of his first kiss with Alex.

Most Cordially Invited by aldiara

In which a formal invitation is extended, a royal mirror is defiled, and Alex cusses a lot.

The Bet by bleedingballroomfloor

Looking back at it, it's all Nora's fault. Or, the time Henry and Alex bet on who can last the longest without sex.

Play Me a Song by allmylovesatonce

Every night, like clockwork, Alex's upstairs neighbor plays the piano for two hours, giving Alex the motivation to sit and do his own work so that he can listen. One night, he leaves a letter for his neighbor to thank him for the music. When his neighbor comes to his door to thank him for the note, he finds it's the same cute guy he's been running into in the lobby.

Speak for Yourself by LolaLand (Lola_di_Penates)

Alex could have walked out of the Williamsburg apartment at any time. Instead, he decides to sign up to twelve months of Henry. OR Alex makes a rash decision and Henry inexplicably runs with it. (The "accidental housemates" AU that literally no-one asked for).

london bridge has fallen down by indomitablelove

Alex can feel the eyes of the room on him as Shaan approaches his side. Then, Shaan quietly murmurs in his ear. They’re words he’s thought about before, distantly wondering about what might happen when they were finally uttered. How their lives might change. There’s nothing that can prepare him for the reality of it though, nothing that can prepare him for how his breath hitches when Shaan speaks. ‘London Bridge is down, Sir.’  --- Queen Mary is dead. Henry doesn't know how to feel.

i wouldn't stop for red lights by matherine

There are flowers on Henry’s desk when he comes into work. They’re pretty, really – chosen by someone who knows him, because there are hydrangeas and white roses and daffodils, and certainly not enough baby’s breath for the bouquet to have been cheap. Not that Henry would make assumptions, nor that he’s the sort of person that would look up the cost of a gift, but he knows who put it here. Even before he looks at the little card attached to a rose’s stem, he knows, because he gets flowers every April 15th.

Water over Blood by happinessofthepursuit

5 times a member of the British Royal Family was in love with Alex + 1 time they loved Henry

The Prince of Sex: A Collaborative Nightmare by aceinadeck, fairycat, ifigo, MaikkaPakka, ohgaywarden, Princess_Nales

"Alex is waiting for his lover Phillip, when he arrives in the bedroom Alex's jaw drops. Philip is wearing a pair of tight leather pants the outline of his massive horse cock is clearly visible and Alex can't wait to have it pump thick squirts of warm cum inside him and his butt." *** It started as a joke, something that Pez found in the depths of Real Person Fiction on Wattpad that none of them really wanted to explore too much. But he brought it up as a drinking game, something that would get all of them absolutely wasted since this was the first time they were able to get together in almost four months.

An Open Heart by absoluteaudacity

"But, and I hope you’ll forgive me for taking so long to get to the point, they listened and hugged me and told me they loved me no matter what. I gather they feel very guilty that I felt I had to keep my sexuality a secret. Mum had to stop Dad from going straight down to Buckingham and yelling at Gran; I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so angry. They’ve agreed that we’ll keep it to the family for the moment but they’ve made it clear I have their support if I ever want to come out publicly. We’re a long way from that, I think, but at least I know the way is partially clear for us. At least I don’t have to pretend anymore."

It's Getting Hot in Here (So Hot!) by Celaestis

Henry’s firm and unwavering belief in Alex’s hetrosexuality does wonders for their relationship. He can coexist with Alex in the same lobby for entire half-minutes at a time while checking for post, he can make solid eye contact during glances in the hallway. Alex is still the most beautiful man he’s ever beheld, and maybe Henry’s hook-ups are tending towards the Latino types more than they ever did in the UK, but still. Alex is straight. Henry is fine about it. Really.

i'd fall to pieces on the floor if you weren't around by karish

Suddenly, Alex feels like he’s gonna throw up and he feels cold all over. Because this sounds like a goodbye. It sounds like a suicide note. Fuck. God. Please no. AKA: Alex wakes up to find a note from Henry and jumps to the worst possible conclusions.

Wedding Talk by maritinkerbell

“You know, H, I’m not sure anything is going to give me greater pleasure than forcing all your homophobic cousins to smile and make nice while I put a fucking ring on it.” OR An upcoming family wedding leads Henry and Alex to discuss marriage for the first time.

Little Secrets Grow Up To Be Big Lies by DracoWillHearAboutThis

Henry meets Alex in a café as he's hiding from the Crown, the media and the public in general. But Alex is charming and alluring and draws him in right away. Alex also has no idea that he's a Prince.

Give Me Comfort, Give Me Help by dwell_the_brave

“I’ll be back by Thursday,” Philip promises, giving Martha a hand up the jet’s steps. She gives them a brief wave from the top of the stairs before disappearing. “Make sure you don’t ski off a cliff!” Bea calls after him as he follows his wife into the jet. He waves a hand dismissively at her and then withdraws into the darkness of the cabin. That’s the last thing any of them say to him. - Philip dies, and Henry becomes heir.

i could be a better boyfriend by bananzie

It wasn't that Alex didn't like telling people about Henry—quite the opposite, actually—it was just that no one ever believed him when he did. An AU in which Henry is one of England’s most famous rugby players, Alex met him during an exchange year, and they’re so in love it’s sickening, but no one believes him.

Just like that. by myheartalive

“I’m so glad my subpar sexual encounter has fed the brain worms. Something’s got to keep the little guys going.” Henry’s more relaxed now that he’s teasing Alex, and looks a lot more like his normal self. It feels a little easier to talk to him, to actually say what he’s thinking. “It’s just… I realised if that was me, I also wouldn’t know how to do it. How to find your…” “Prostate?” “Yeah. That.” — When Henry comes home from a date frustrated by the guy’s lack of expertise, Alex starts having thoughts. And then, because he’s Alex, he sticks his big foot in his even bigger mouth.

Kinda think that I might be his type by kiwiana

“Bea.” He clambers onto his knees, grabbing her hands in his own. “Bea, take me to Thanksgiving with you.” Bea blinks. Blinks again. “What?” “Bea, I could terrorise your gran until she’s begging you to stay single forever.” Or, Alex agrees to be his friend's fake boyfriend for a weekend. He is not prepared for his friend's brother.

until next wednesday! if you want me to tag you in future lists, let me know!

[absurdthirst]

Accidentally Mrs. Bravo {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 24.8k

Warnings: Drug use, alcohol, dub con due to spiked drinks, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal fingering, Dieter being a sub, face sitting, period oral (Dieter has his red wings), hand jobs, angst, Dieter being a sassy asshole. 

Comments: Being PR for Dieter Bravo is a nightmare, the idea of him going to Vegas for a birthday weekend absolutely horrifies you. Even more when it’s suggest you go with him. It’s going to be horrible, you just know it. Especially when you wake up married to him. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

**Follow @absurdthirst-writes and turn on notifications to stay up to date on all new fics.

|| MasterList ||

Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

When Dieter told his team he wanted to go to Vegas for his birthday, you had told him no. As his PR manager, Dieter and Vegas are a bad combination. God knows what he’d do when fuelled by drugs, gambling and endless booze. Surrounded by people with camera phones and men and women who would want him to fuck them. Maybe get knocked up. You get a headache even thinking about it. When his manager suggested you accompany him to make sure he says out of trouble, you protested and put your foot down, telling her that you hate Vegas. It’s a cesspool of bad decisions. However, the next thing you know you’re on a private jet going to Vegas while Dieter snorts coke off of the mahogany table while his “friends” drink champagne. You know this is going to end in Disaster.

Inhaling deeply, Dieter throws his head back, letting the endorphins rush through his system and he lets out a loud whoop. “Fuck, that’s some good shit!” He crows and looks around, spotting you sitting in one of the plush leather chairs across from the couch with a sour look on your face. “You want some?” He asks, offering you the one hundred dollar bill he had rolled up to snort the coke with. “Maybe it’ll get that stick out of your ass.”

You watch him with disgust. You might have been hired to handle his PR but the man makes it a never ending job. Being caught with prostitutes, arrested with coke possession and a general bad attitude with paps has made you have many a sleepless night. This trip will be no exception. “No, thank you.” You respond coolly, shaking your head. “The stick will remain firmly in my ass for the entire trip.” 

Dieter chuckles, pulling his hand back, “I bet you like having something up your ass.” His joke makes you roll your eyes and you cross your legs, looking out of the window.

Huffing at your lack of appreciation for his joke, Dieter passes the rolled up bill off to one of his friends and frowns at you. “Why are you here if you don’t want to have fun?” He whines. “You should have stayed in L.A.” He doesn’t want you here. All you do is complain about his behavior, his manners, the way he dresses. He wants to relax and have fun, not be nagged to death by a fish wife. If he wanted that, he would get married.

“I don’t want to be here but your team - including me - thought it would be best to come with you to control what happens. The last thing you need with your new movie coming out is a mug shot.” You tell him. “Besides, I have fun. My fun just doesn’t involve doing copious amounts of drugs, having sex with prostitutes, and drinking more tequila than what’s available in the entire country of Mexico.” 

Dieter scoffs, “what do you do to have fun? Read?” His words make you bristle, swallowing down your retort that reading would be better than spending him in his company. 

“Just behave yourself and we won’t have any issues.” You finally respond, glancing around at his “friends.” All people who are here because of what he can give them, not because they like him as a person.

“I always behave myself.” Dieter gives you an offended look and shakes his head. “Just because I don’t adhere to your version of behaving doesn’t mean I don’t behave.” He chuckles and looks around the plane. “Haven’t you ever just had fun? Fuck what they say or what they think? Just be yourself?”

You try not to react, but his words hit. You went to college for media and you ended up getting a job right out of college with a PR firm. You needed to prove yourself and that meant working all hours. You’ve never really let your hair down and done whatever you wanted. You huff, shaking your head at him. “You don’t behave. You make my job so much harder. I’d hate to see you when you’re not behaving.”

“Have I flashed my dick at the paps?” He asks you, titling his head and smiling in amusement at the mental image of doing just that. “Or come up with some love child with a prostitute? Because I’ve fucked a lot of women. It could have happened.”

God, you hate this man. He’s so self indulgent it infuriates you. He does what he wants, when he wants. Damn the consequences. “Just try to not let either of those things happen during this weekend.” You reach for your phone, deciding to check your emails while he continues to indulge. 

When the pilot announces the plane will be landing soon, you steel yourself for what will no doubt be an exhausting weekend. The plane lands and the limos are waiting on the tarmac. Dieter’s assistant - who luckily has the weekend off - had arranged every detail even down to the baggie of coke waiting for him in the limo.

“Vegas baby!” Dieter squints and nods his head so that his sunglasses flip down onto his nose and he pushes them up. He wraps his arm around the girl he had met just this morning who had said she would be willing to go to Vegas with him. He smirks as he looks back at you, “try to keep up.” He tells you before he and the bottle blonde he’s wrapped around stumble down the plane’s stairs onto the tarmac.

You scoff in disgust, watching him squeeze the woman’s ass when she gets into the limo. He’s wearing sunglasses and it’s fucking nighttime. What an asshole. You get into the limo, sitting in the far corner and he has already found the baggie. This is going to be the weekend from hell. The woman kisses his jaw and he manages to snort some coke off of her tits when she pushes them together. “Classy.” You mutter, ignoring the entourage.

Dieter doesn’t even pay attention to you, too busy motor boating Cindy, or was it Kathy? He doesn’t know, nor does he really care. He just wants to get to the hotel and get another bottle of champagne. “We should hit the club!” Someone suggests, and like the easily distracted creature that he is, Dieter latches onto the idea. 

“A strip club!” He agrees happily. 

You shake your head. “No. No strip clubs.” You put your foot down. You’re not going into a strip club with Dieter Bravo. 

“It’s my fucking birthday. We are doing what I want.” Dieter growls, pissed that you’re doing everything you can to ruin his birthday weekend. 

“No strip clubs.” You repeat, crossing your arms.

“Go sit at the hotel if you don’t want to go.” Dieter huffs. “This limo is going to a strip club.” He lowers the glass between the back and the driver and grins. “Hey Buddy, take us to the best fucking strip club in Vegas. ‘Kay?”

You huff, knowing you have no choice. You can’t leave him be. He would run riot in Vegas. “You don’t want to change?” You ask, “or check into the hotel?” You frown, knowing he’d requested the best suite at Caesars. 

“No. I want to get this party started. We can change later.” Dieter declares. 

“Later? It’s nine.” You check your watch. 

“It’s early for Vegas.” Dieter shrugs and you sigh, knowing you have no choice.

Fueled by cocaine and champagne, Dieter is the first out of the limo when it comes to a stop. He likes the look of the place, the sound of the music is loud but he doesn’t care. Soon enough he will be watching women dance. “Hey, are there men here too?” He asks, suddenly curious. That would be cool. A strip club that caters to men and women, or people who like men and women.

You exhale deeply, trying to remain calm as you follow the group into the strip club. It's loud and full of bodies - both men and women. Some partly dressed, some naked as the day they were born. A half naked man walks past and you fluster when he winks at you. You have never been somewhere like this and you're no virgin but your life has been pretty vanilla.

It’s nothing but VIP for the group. Even if Dieter wasn’t recognized, a few folded up bills passed to the server assures that you are quickly seated at the best tables. “Uh huh, I want a dance from her and him.” Dieter lowers his glasses and leers over the rim with a grin on his face as a pair of dancers walk past. He turns to watch the rear view and catches sight of you. “I’ll even buy you a dance.” He tells you, blowing you a kiss. “Get you to loosen up. Tuck a few bills in a G-string.”

You roll your eyes and have a sip of the glass of champagne. You won’t get drunk but a glass or two will help you deal with this asshole all night. Some people ask why you work for him if you can’t stand him but honestly, he’s a PR nightmare and you always said you wanted the hardest cases for a challenge. He’s definitely been the hardest. “Gee thanks.” You respond sarcastically. 

The woman Dieter brought along is a little offended that he wants a dance and she slaps his chest ‘playfully’ and says “what about a private dance from me baby?”

Dieter rolls his eyes and tugs her close. “Of course I want a private dance from you.” He coos, leaning in and presses his lips to her neck and makes her giggle when he playfully bites her. “Later. We’ll have our own little strip tease.” Later on he has no clue what he will be doing, but she’s fun and he will hopefully get lucky. He’s getting laid for his birthday. Or at least a blowjob. “Don’t you want to shove some bills into his g-string?”

You huff, deciding you might as well do something fun for once. You make a grabby gesture and he grins, handing you the bills. You call a man over and he saunters, moving his hips and he holds out his hand. “Oh, I don’t want a dance. Here, take this. Put it towards your education or your rent or food or whatever. Just - take it.” You shove the notes into the man’s hand who is shocked.

Pouting, Dieter rolls his eyes. “God, you are no fun.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest and shoots you a glare. “He was hot, he might have enjoyed the stick in your ass.” He’s pissed that he didn’t get to see the man dance, or see if you would fluster and loosen up. He doesn’t care about the money. It’s about having a good time.

You scoff, “you act like he wouldn’t have been nice to me because he’s getting money. All of these people are here because of your money, Bravo. They aren’t your friends, they want your wallet. Especially her.” You point to Cindy, Kathy, whatever her fucking name is. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You huff, standing up and grabbing your purse. You need to calm down and compose yourself if you’re gonna survive an entire weekend of this.

For a split second, Dieter’s face falls, hurt shining in his eyes before he shakes himself slightly and blinks it away. You’re just pissed that you’re here instead of locked away in your depressing house with whatever boring ass book you were going to read. The waitress comes over and he orders a magnum of champagne and glasses for everyone, including you. You’re at his birthday weekend, you are damn well going to celebrate,

When you come back from the bathroom, there’s champagne flowing and you see the glass waiting there for you. You shouldn’t drink it but you have to. You won’t endure tonight without a drink or two…or maybe three. You sit down and pick up the glass, downing it. You choke on the bubbles and Dieter cheers, clapping his hands. “Now we are fucking talking.” 

Little do either of you know that one of his entourage snuck something into your drinks. You sway slightly, a giggle escaping your lips. “Wow. That champagne was so fucking good.” You feel tingly, like you’ve had ten drinks instead of two.

“So you are human.” Dieter gets up and moves around Cindy or Kathy and wedges himself in beside you. His grin is wide and happy and he clinks his glass against yours and takes a large sip of his bubbly. “It’s nice to see it. I didn’t think that I would ever witness you ‘let down your hair’.”

“Don’t get too excited, Bravo. The night is young and I am - I am supposed to be watching over you.” You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips. You lean against Dieter, all hatred for him seems to have disappeared and you have another glass of champagne. “Happy birthday Bravo.” You cheer, suddenly excited for the night. 

****

You groan at the bright light that shines into the room, your head is throbbing and you can barely open your eyes. Fuck, what happened last night. You don’t remember a thing. You wince, realizing you must’ve drank way too much, and you shift, turning over away from the light and you hit something. Without opening your eyes, you reach out, gasping at the feel of hot skin and you freak out, opening your eyes. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” You panic, seeing the familiar tattoos on your boss’s back.

Dieter groans, hearing someone’s panicked voice and shifts, turning over and covering his eyes with his hand. “Throw up on the floor.” He grunts, not wanting to lay in puke if whoever he took to bed is about to get sick. He doesn’t open his eyes and groans again, wanting to go back to sleep.

You slap him, “wake the fuck up!” You slap him again. Shrieking when you realize you’re naked. “You need to wake up now, Dieter. I- we are in bed and - and naked.” You look at him and frown when you see the gold band on his hand. “What the fuck is that?” You reach for his hand, pulling it away from his face and that’s when you see the diamond in your left hand. “What the fuck? Wake up!” You slap him with his own hand.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuck?” Dieter bolts upright and throws his hands up defensively. His eyes are wide and he looks at you like you are crazy. “What the fuck are you doing? I’m sleeping!” He isn’t questioning why you are naked and in his bed. He doesn’t even really care, but dammit, he was enjoying the sleep. And you rudely interrupted it.

“Sleep? How can you sleep when a) we are in bed naked together, and b) WE ARE APPARENTLY FUCKING MARRIED!” You shout, grabbing his hand to show him the new gold band and holding up your own hand. “Oh God. This is - it’s gotta be a joke, right? We aren’t married. We just bought rings.” You try to reason, knowing no matter how drunk you could be, you wouldn’t marry him.

His eyes widen and he looks at your hand and then back at your face for a moment before he busts out laughing. “Oh good job!” He crows. “You had me for a second. And showing me your tits to sell it? Genius.” He chuckles and looks around, spotting a glass of champagne on the nightstand and twists around to grab it, swallowing down the flat champagne. It’s disgusting, but his mouth is dry and he needs something. He pulls the glass down from his lips. “You should stop the bullshit babysitting and act, sweetheart.”

You narrow your eyes at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?" You growl, pissed that he thinks this is some kind of joke. "Do you think this is funny? Bravo, this is - oh God. I think I'm gonna be sick." You scramble to get off of the bed, racing to the bathroom and you kneel down just as you throw up. You gag and cough until you're done before you slump down on the floor, pressing your forehead against the cool porcelain. You inhale deeply and look down, eyes widening at the crusted liquid on your inner thighs. "Oh shit." You hiss, reaching between your legs. You stand up, rinsing your mouth, and stumble back into the bedroom. "We had sex. We had sex." You're in shock.

“What?” Dieter frowns, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t have sex with me. Believe me, I’ve asked.” He had asked you the first day he met you and you had scoffed and acted revolted so he had never asked again. Although you’re standing in front of him naked, and that is something he thought he would never see. “You just probably spilled something on yourself.” He rolls his eyes and flops back onto the bed.

You shake your head, tears in your eyes that he doesn't believe you. "I know what dried cum looks like, you asshole." You spit and search around the room for your phone, knowing you need to find out what happened. When you find your phone, you see the notifications. Opening the first one, your eyes widen. "Oh shit." You read the headline, "Oscar Winning Dieter Bravo Gets Married in Vegas." You scroll until you see the video. "Dieter." You take the phone over to him, hitting play.

A picture is worth a thousand words and apparently a video is worth a million. You and Dieter are obviously intoxicated and grinning happily at each other. In the video, he grabs your ass and hauls you closer while the two of you kiss, tongues tangled and the group that Dieter had brought is cheering and clapping. Pulling away, Dieter looks around. “Now, I’m going to fuck my wife!” He yells out, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the limo - presumably to take you back to the hotel. “Shit.” Dieter groans, knowing his manager is going to kill him. You probably didn’t sign a prenup.

You cannot believe this. You don't know what happened. You vowed you wouldn't have more than a few drinks, how the hell did you end up blacked out and married to Dieter? "Shit." You echo, wondering what the hell you're gonna do. That video is all over the internet and you know that this press is going to be impossible to tamper. The phone rings and you groan at the name of Dieter's manager flashing on the screen. "Hey Alex. How are you?" You ask, trying to act nonchalant. 

"How am I? How am I? You fucking got married to Dieter. You were hired for PR and you orchestrate the biggest fuck up in the history of fuck ups."

“Hey.” Dieter huffs, hearing her screech over the phone. “I wouldn’t say it’s the biggest fuck up.” He throws the covers off his body, obviously not going to be able to go back to sleep and climbs out of the bed, stretching with a groan. Completely unconcerned with his nudity as he stumbles to the bathroom to take a piss.

You watch him walk into the bathroom, jaw dropping, and you realize now why there's an ache between your thighs. "Not a fuck up? You got married! To your PR manager. Jesus Christ Dieter. You need to fix this." Alex says your name and you bite your lip, unsure of how you can fix it. 

"I- I don't know - he can't just say it was a joke. There's..." You rack your brain. "There's one way but he's gonna hate it." You look towards the bathroom. 

"I don't care. Just fucking fix it. He has a new movie coming out and we don't need the studio on our ass because he has fucked up - because you have fucked up." She hangs up and you stare at the phone, wanting to cry at this entire fucked up situation.

The best thing about Dieter is his ability to go with the flow. Or at least he thinks he does. Often he’s just too strung out, but right now, he’s finding this hilarious. “Just call me Brittany.” He chuckles into the mirror before he groans and reaches for the bottle of antacids that he keeps in his bag, along with his illicit drugs. Getting older sucks. He pops four into his mouth and chews them, reaching down and scratching his balls while he tries to remember if he did anything else last night besides marrying you. That can’t have been the worst thing he did.

You know what the solution is but fuck, you hate it, you really fucking hate it. You grab the shirt he was wearing, throwing it on without care, and you walk towards the bathroom. "We can't get an annulment." You declare. Dieter frowns, turning to look at you, his hand still scratching his balls. 

"Why not?" He huffs. 

"We have to stay married. If we get an annulment now, it will be recorded and the press will get hold of it and it will be a bigger story than it already is. If we stay married, even on paper, for six months or so, we can get an annulment and no one will even care to look because it will be old news."

“We can just say it was an accident.” Dieter shrugs and smirks. “What happens in Vegas and all that.” You shake your head. 

“No Dieter, not what happens in Vegas. That’s the problem!” You shriek and he winces at how loud you get. 

“Jesus, there’s the stick again.” He grumbles and sighs, trying to ignore the fact that you are wearing his t-shirt. “I don’t want to be married to you,” he whines. “Your going to tell me I can’t have sex while we’re married.”

“I won’t be married to you in any way other than a piece of paper. We are going to have to suffer each other for the time being. Once we get the annulment, you will give me a reference so I can move on from this shit show. You - you can fuck whoever you want but you won’t be doing it in public. We need people to think we are really married. You need to act like we are actually married, not just a terrible mistake. You need this to work otherwise you will be a laughing stock. With the cocaine possession and DUI, you can’t afford another fuck up.” You warn him, knowing that the last thing you want is to be married to him but you need this job more, you need that reference more than anything.

Dieter huffs, knowing that you aren’t wrong, but it’s all bullshit. “What the fuck, you don’t do your job and I’m the one punished?” He gripes, hating the entire idea. Especially where you said you would be leaving him. He hates when people leave him. “How did Ms. ‘Holier than thou, stick in her ass’ manage to get married to a man she can’t stand in a Vegas wedding chapel?”

“I don’t - I don’t remember anything past going to the bathroom in the strip club. I - I didn’t do my job? How dare you! I tried to prevent something like this but you bought me the drink and it was poured and - oh fuck. Do you think- do you think our drinks were spiked? Oh fuck. That explains it. One of your goddamn gold digging groupies spiked my drink and now I’m - oh God. I knew I shouldn’t have come along. Oh fuck. Dieter - we got married and had sex and I don’t even remember.” You freak out again, hands shaking as the weight of this settles on you.

Dieter frowns, while he loves using drugs and thinks that you could personally benefit from the occasional snort or toke, he doesn’t like the idea of being unknowingly drugged. Again, completely unconcerned with the fact that he’s naked, he walks over to you. “It’s okay.” He hesitates to reach for you, but then he does, pulling you against him and hugging you. Only slightly awkwardly considering you are just wearing his shirt and it is morning. “I’m sure there’s a video of it.”

You are so distraught that you actually wrap your arms around him and allow him to comfort you. Only for a moment until you realize that you’re married to him. “We need a game plan. What’s done is done and you don’t need anymore bad press so we gotta stay married.” You declare as you pull away from his embrace.

Dieter groans, hating that you keep saying that. Because he knows that means that his fun in Vegas will be over if you have your way. “Just lay low.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns around, wanting to look for the pills that he had yesterday. He spots a silk robe and snatches it up, throwing it on but not bothering to close it. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not - we got married. It is a big deal. It’s a massive deal. I never - I wanted to get married and not get divorced. I wanted to be in love with the man I married. Not - not just - this mess. Oh God. My parents are going to kill me. Everyone expects you to be this reckless but not me. I’m the sensible one. Always have been. I’ve always had to be good.” You admit, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dieter turns around and stares at you, amazed that you are so…worried about what your parents are going to say. “You’re legal, right?” He demands, squinting at you as if he could tell your age by staring at you. “Worried about your parents? Why? What are they doing for you? Are they supporting you?”

“Of fucking course I’m legal, you idiot.” You huff, “my parents love me and I love them and they are going to be mad when I tell them I accidentally got married in Vegas to a drug addicted actor.” They had told you that moving to L.A was a bad idea and now you’re inclined to agree. 

“Who cares what they think?” Dieter scoffs, finally finding the baggie. 

“Who cares? I do!” You choke, tears stinging in your eyes again. 

“Then just don’t tell them.” Dieter says, like it’s the easiest thing to do. 

You shake your head, “I can’t lie to my parents. I can’t do it.” You watch Dieter roll his eyes. 

“You can. It’s easy. Just tell them you got married for real and they’ll be disappointed when their favorite son-in-law asks for a divorce in six months time but hey, what can you do? It’s fucking life.” You watch him, knowing your parents are gonna wonder what you say in him compared to your clean cut exes.

Dieter pops three of the pills in his mouth and offers you a couple. “Want some?” He asks and you scoff, shaking your head and looking at him in disgust. 

“Shit like that got us into this situation!” 

He rolls his eyes and closes the bag, shoving it in the pocket of the ridiculous pink silk robe. It only comes down to his thigh and doesn’t cover anything since he hasn’t closed it. “Just release a statement saying that after spending a night with you in Vegas, I realized that I couldn’t deny my feelings anymore.” He tells you. “Or say that we’ve been secretly dating for months and just decided to go for it.”

You are surprised he’s suddenly agreed to go along with it. Your eyes dip down to his impressive - even flaccid - cock and realize why he’s so obnoxious. “I think the secretly dating one is the way to go but you have been out with most of the men and women in L.A in the past six months. We gotta explain that.” Your mind whirls with the best way to cover this up. Your PR mind taking over to try and distract you from the panic that you also had sex with your boss. One thing at a time.

He shrugs, obviously unconcerned about the details. “We’re poly.” He chuckles, knowing that with as stiff as you are, there is no way that you would ever be in situation like that. “Or that it was just a front. Throw people off.” He grunts and scratches his belly. “I’m hungry, are you hungry? You should order us breakfast.” He switches topics suddenly and looks at you expectantly. “Doesn’t the wife take care of her hubby?” He teases with a smirk.

You huff, walking over to the phone and you grab the room service menu. “Aren’t husbands supposed to stop their stupid fake friends from roofieing their staff?” You retort, glad that you only have one more day of this before you return to L.A and you can get away from him. His assistant can run around doing this shit. You order a healthy breakfast, making him pout, and you smirk, “I’m looking after you baby.”

“Look after me by ordering bacon.” Dieter grumbles and sighs when you just lift a brow. “I’m going to shower.” Despite the rumors, he did shower. He just dresses like he doesn’t give a fuck. Because he doesn’t. Shooting you a grin, he waggles his brows. “Wanna join?”

You wrinkle your nose, “absolutely not. You haven’t even asked if I’m on birth control. We had sex last night. I take the pill, by the way.” You inform him and he wrinkles his nose. 

“Too many chemicals. You should just check your basal temperature.” 

You shake your head, “how have you not knocked someone up yet?”

Dieter shrugs, not bothering to tell you that he normally does use a condom. Doubting you would believe him. “Guess I’m just lucky like that.” He eyes you again, seeing the streaks of his dried cum on the inside of your thighs. “You wanna take a bath while I shower then? I know you want to clean away the evidence.” His tone is oddly hurt and he purses his lips at you.

You nod, deciding that a bath sounds nice, especially since your body aches. God knows what he did to you last night. You follow him to the bathroom, bending over to turn on the bath and there’s a flash in your mind of Dieter bending you over the bath, his cock buried deep inside of you. You gasp, making Dieter look over at you. 

“You okay?” He frowns and you nod. 

“I’m fine.” You choke, grabbing the bubble bath.

Rolling his eyes, Dieter leans into the marbled shower to turn on the water. It wouldn’t be so horrible being married to you for a few months if you weren’t such a stick in the mud. You’re hot, he had been grateful that he was battling a headache when you were standing in front of him naked. Or maybe he had too much sex last night. Maybe that was the reason he wasn’t popping a boner at the sight of your tits and bare cunt, because he likes the look of you. “I guess we go home this afternoon?” He asks with a pout. It’s his fucking birthday today and he’s gotten yelled at, scolded and there is zero chance of getting a birthday blowjob from you.

You ponder it for a moment, realizing that you can’t just go home. It would look bad. You need to be seen out and about. “We can’t go home today. It’s best if we go out. We are gonna get swarmed but the public needs to see you and your wife out and happy.I’m sure even you can manage to act like you actually love me. Happy birthday by the way.” You offer him a smile despite being so mad that the thing you tried to prevent had happened.

Your smile throws him for a loop and he just stares at you for a moment. It might be the second time that you’ve smiled at him, a nice smile, since you’ve become his PR person. “Thanks.” He swallows back the urge to make a comment, something dirty that you wouldn’t appreciate and just nods. “Okay. Be seen. We can do that.” He shrugs. “What would be good?”

You test the water before stripping off his shirt to sink into the hot water, a moan escaping your lips at how good it feels on your aching muscles. “I’m thinking we go to dinner. No entourage. Then we go dancing. We gotta appear close and I doubt you’d be spending your birthday apart from your wife. This is just until the news has died down so we can divorce.”

He rolls his eyes at how boring that sounds. No doubt dinner will be talking about how much of a fuck up you think he is and the dancing will be some sedate oldies music where no one there is under one hundred. He shrugs off the robe and steps under the shower spray with a groan. “Sounds great, grandma.” He quips. “Senior specials? Gotta get there before five.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “No. I’ll book dinner for nine and then we can go to a club. Not a strip club.” You huff, swaying your hands through the water. His sarcasm has pissed you off since it’s technically his fault that you are in this situation. “I gotta go out and get something nice for a club since everything I brought with me is for a nice dinner and not the club. I guess I gotta dress the part of Mrs. Bravo.” The words make you feel sick but what can you do? You need to keep your job and the way to do that is to create the narrative that you’re in love with the man. As disgusting as he can be, you hope you find something good in him. He’s selfish, indulgent, and completely self obsessed. Traits you would never want to marry, yet here you are.

“Got it, you don’t like strip clubs.” He feels guilty, something that he hates feeling. He doesn’t know why, he didn’t spike your drink, but you are stuck with him because of it. “Take my card when you go shopping.” He tells you, shampoo in his hair. “This is my fault, so you should at least be able to buy what you want until it’s done.”

You want to argue and say you can afford your own things but honestly, you deserve something nice since this wasn't your fault. It was his fake fucking friends. You wash up and wash your face, standing up from the bath just as he steps out of the shower, reaching for the towel. He really is sexy in that Oscar the Grouch kind of way.

Water droplets glisten on his chest as he wraps his towel around his waist, covering himself for the first time since he got out of bed. “You’ll need to stay in this suite too.” Dieter reminds you. “The paps watch the hotel rooms.”

You huff, knowing he’s right, and you wrap the towel around yourself. It’s hard to resist licking up that drop of water going down to his - your mind flashes with an image of you doing just that and you stumble. “Shit.” You hiss and he reaches out to steady you, causing you to pull your arm away. “Do you- do you remember anything from last night?” You ask, curious if he’s having these flashes too.

“I-“ Dieter bites his lip and almost lies to you. “I remember most of last night.” He admits quietly. He’s done so many drugs that some things just kind of stick with him. Especially sex. He knows you will probably be mad at him, since you were drugged too, but he didn’t know that you weren’t just drunk.

Your eyes widen but you’re not surprised. He’s done more drugs than most of the population of California combined. He must have some kind of immunity. “Tell me.” You demand. “Tell me everything.”

“I don’t know.” He swallows harshly and gives a small shrug. “We came back to the hotel, but we started in the limo.” He flashes you a grin. “You demanded I eat you out. Told me that you hadn’t cum on someone’s face in a long time.”

You fluster, unable to believe you said that. “And did you?” You ask breathlessly. 

“Of course I fucking did.” He scoffs, “I practically laid on the floor of the limo so I could eat you out. You were bucking against my face like a goddamn bronco.” 

Your cheeks burn and you need to know more despite it being mortifying. “Then what?”

He smirks, amused with how flustered you look. “Then we came back here and had sex. In the bathtub, in the bed, in front of the windows.” He chuckles. “You liked that.”

There’s a flash in your mind of him pushing you up against the window, your cheek smashed against it as he rammed into you. “Oh God.” You choke, unable to believe that he fucked you like that. “No wonder I ache. God, thank God I’m on birth control.” You grip the towel tighter around your body, even though it’s ridiculous now he’s seen every inch of your body.

He hums, not mentioning how you had moaned about how good he felt. He’ll save that for himself. “You wanted it again, wanted to ride but you were so tired I stopped you.” You had pouted at him until he promised you could ride him in the morning. Although it seems like that won’t happen. “You can wear some of my clothes until you get your bags to the room.”

You want the floor to open and swallow you when he says that you wanted to ride him. It’s true you haven’t had sex for - who the fuck knows how long it has been. You can’t even remember. You had seen Dieter naked and now you can see why you wanted to ride his cock. Now you’re sober, you couldn’t do it because it’s Dieter Bravo. “Okay. I will wear some of your clothes then go get my things then I’m gonna go shopping and you are gonna stay here and call your manager to apologize.” You tell him, striding out of the bathroom and you walk into the closet to his suitcase, wrinkling your nose at the lack of options that don’t involve holes or stains. “You need new clothes too.” You tell him, holding up his tatty sweats.

Shrugging, he doesn’t understand why you are upset about his clothes. “So buy me some.” He offers. “Hate shopping. Never do it. All that was stuff I acquired.” Half the time it’s stuff that comes from lovers or once expensive clothes that he wears to death when he’s given them after modeling. “But don’t throw them away.” He huffs, a snatching shirt you had picked up away from you. “They’re comfortable.”

“Comfortable can look good too. These are - what the hell do you do in these clothes?” You pick up a tatty shirt and pull it over your head. “What’s your size? I’ll buy you some clothes. We can’t - I won’t be married to a homeless millionaire.” You scoff, “I promise you’ll be comfortable but you need to look good. Your entire image is your income.”

Dieter snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’m still getting worked, aren’t I?” He asks before he drops his towel and starts rooting around for a pair of boxers. “I need to look good on camera. And the makeup and hair people accomplish that.” He honestly doesn’t care about how he looks off set, comfort is his goal. He works long hours when he’s shooting a movie and it’s always uncomfortable. “I honestly don’t- oh! The last movie.” He rattles off sizes. “That’s what the tailor told me when I was fitted.”

“Okay. I’ll get you some new clothes. I just - I know you think I hate you but I want you to be successful. I want you to look good and be loved by your fans. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted and that’s my job. To make you look good. For people to love you. I’ll get you some new clothes and some new shoes. Those Tom’s…they aren’t it.”

“Hey….” Dieter pouts and looks down at the Tom’s he had pushed his feet into after sliding on his boxers. “I left my crocs at home.” He argues. “I could have worn them.” He would have too, he doesn’t care. Although he’s surprised by your speech about wanting things for him. Besides last night, you always seem to look at him like gum on the bottom of your shoe.

“God no. I will get my stuff and then we are going shopping. You’re coming with me so we can get you some new stuff.” You tell him, not taking no for an answer. “Let’s get my stuff and then we can go get started.” You shove your feet into your shoes, grateful you didn’t wear heels last night.

“I hate shopping.” He whines, huffing dramatically. “I hate it. It’s boring and people are always assholes.” He hates having to make small talk and all the fucking sales associates thought if they talked to him that he would buy more shit.

You roll your eyes, “tough shit. Your wife wants to go shopping.” You quip and make your way out of the closet to grab your purse, intent on going to your room to change. “Breakfast should be arriving soon. I’ll get my stuff, we can eat, and then we will go out.”

“Bossy.” The fact that his cock twitches doesn’t surprise him, he likes following orders sometimes. “Fine, we’ll go shopping.” He calls out as you walk out of the closet. “But I’m going to complain the whole time!”

****

You hold up the shirt against him, liking the purple against his skin tone. “I like this. What do you think?” You ask, knowing that people are watching you and taking photos but there’s nothing you can do.

“It’s fine.” Dieter huffs, hating the actual shopping more than the color or style of the shirt. He always feels like a rat in a glass cage when he goes shopping. “If you like it, get it. I’ll wear whatever.”

You huff back, hating his lack of enthusiasm and you know it’s because he hates being with you. “We will get it and then we can go, okay hon?” You promise, knowing he’s uncomfortable. “I won’t make you endure this anymore.” You take the shirt over to the cashier and you feel guilty when you see the total. “I’m sorry. Oh God. I didn’t know - I can put stuff back.” You tell him, picking up the clothes.

Dieter scoffs and takes the clothes out of your hand and sets them back down on the counter. “You want it, don’t you?” He asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his little card case. The black card is quickly snatched up by the sales associate. “Besides, you told me you wanted to go shopping. Shopping means buying things.”

“Yeah but -” Your protest is cut short as the sales associate starts to fold the clothes. All of these are for Dieter. Yours are already on the way to the hotel. “I promise you I’ll pay you back.” You vow and he shakes his head. Dieter spends more than this a week on coke. 

“Anything to make you happy dear.” He sasses and you playfully slap him, a little too hard but you don’t want to look like you’re not flirtatious with the sales associate there. 

“Happy wife happy life.” You quip.

Dieter rolls his eyes and shoots the clerk a grin. “She’s already figured it out.” He tells them. “I just go along to get along.” He can almost say it with a straight face, but he looks over at you and shoots you a playful wink. “As long as you model the clothes you bought, or let me throw them on the floor, we’re good, baby.” He takes the opportunity to slide his hand down your back and squeeze your ass.

You want to be disgusted but you’ve had more flashes in your mind about how he fucked you and it’s beyond anything you could imagine. So sexy and intense. You find yourself being attracted to him and it’s so dangerous. You’re supposed to hate him, hate how he’s a PR nightmare, one that you’ve now gotten involved in, but you just want him to squeeze your ass again.

His grin gets wider when you don’t gasp and he leans in to kiss your cheek, making sure he drops another kiss right at the corner of your mouth. You’re a little looser than you were last night when the plane landed and he likes that. After your champagne at the strip club, he had ditched Cindy or whatever her fucking name was and it had been all about you. Not that what’s her name minded, she had latched onto some IG model that was there.

You can't stop the shiver that runs through your body and you hope he thinks it's from disgust. "Thank you." You tell the sales associate who promises to take your purchases back to your hotel room. You hold Dieter's hand as you walk back to your hotel. "Gotta let people take photos." You murmur, realizing how many people recognize him and you feel terrible that this is his life every day.

“I know.” He keeps his voice down, but he squeezes your hand. “That's why I hate shopping. The stores turn into a giant fucking fish bowl.” He’s feeling a little jittery, wishing you had let him take something before you left the hotel. But you had said you wanted people to see him happy and sober. Dieter didn’t mention that no one had seen him like that.

You notice how anxious he is and you feel awful for forcing him out like this. You can’t imagine being recognized like this. To be constantly under the public eye. You can understand why he finds solace in the drugs. “It’s okay. Don’t pay attention to them. You’re okay sweetheart. We are going back to the room.” You promise, feeling his hand shake in yours.

He grips your hand a little tighter and looks over at you, almost pathetically grateful that you are here. “Now you know why I’m normally baked.” He quips with a crooked grin.

You feel sorry for him, finally recognizing why he doesn’t dress nicer or go out or be sober. You can’t imagine the stress he must have even going out to the grocery store. You are swift to get him back into the hotel but you enter the elevator and what appears to be several young women all gasp when you enter. “Oh my God it’s Dieter Bravo.” One of them announces and you find yourself defensive when they start to take selfies without even asking. 

“Hey. Can you not just take his photo? You could at least ask.” You huff and one of the women points at you. 

“You’re his beard.” She declares. 

“His what?” You narrow your eyes. 

“He’s actually with a man but you are his cover up so female fans think he’s still an option. It’s okay honey, we all know you’re not his type anyway. He likes them looking like supermodels. You’re…average.” She drags her eyes down your body and you feel every insecurity you’ve tried to overcome rush back over you.

“Hey.” Dieter scowls and shakes his head, pushing the outstretched hands with phones away and reaches for you to tug you close to his side. “How about you not talk about my wife like that?” He demands. “Have I been with men? Yep, not a secret.” 

Dieter has never cared how he was perceived, he was too self absorbed for that, but he’d be damned if someone was going to insult his fake marriage. “And your logic makes zero fucking sense. I like men, but then I like women who look like supermodels, so she isn’t good enough?” He rolls his eyes and smirks. “Be jealous all you want but don’t be a bitch to her. And you can swing by the hotel room to hear how unattractive I find her later.”

You can’t deny that you are turned on by his display. His defense of you is sexy and you can’t stop the smirk appearing on your lips as the woman is shocked, blinking several times until her friends usher her off of the elevator when it arrives on their floor. “Thank you.” You tell him, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“Husbands protect their wives, right?“ he likes the way that your hand is on his chest, the admiration in your eyes appealing. It’s real, unlike a lot of the shit he gets. “Besides, they are fucking insane. You aren’t average, your fucking gorgeous.”

You fluster, caressing his chest before stepping away. You can’t get involved with him, this is a PR disaster to begin with, let alone getting actual emotions involved. He’s more than what you thought he was. “Thank you. You- you aren’t too bad yourself.” You tell him just as the elevator doors open and you walk to his suite.

He snorts, appreciating the sass and his eyes are glued to your ass as you walk. The maid has come while the two of you are gone and the suite is nice and tidy. “So, I guess we need to talk about what’s going to happen when we go back to L.A.” he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want you lecturing him when the two of you had such a good moment.

You sigh, knowing he’s not gonna like your response. “We need to live together. Just until we divorce. The paps might catch me leaving my home or not being in your home. It will raise questions and we need people to think we are together and stop questioning…like that woman did. We need to - to make this work and when we divorce, you can tell everyone that I’m the evil woman that broke your heart so you can get all the attention and hopefully your next role.”

Dieter shakes his head. “No,” he frowns at the idea of what that would do to your career. “We’ll come up with something better than that.” He insists. “I- there’s three other bedrooms in the house.” He offers, looking over at the door to the bedroom of the suite. “You can have whatever room you want.” He sighs. “I’m a selfish asshole, but I’d never make you stay in the same room or sleep with me.”

You appreciate how he isn’t forcing you into more than what you have agreed. “It will only be for a few months. We need to suffer each other until people get bored of you being married. Tonight, we need to put on a show to convince the public we are married. I’m sorry this happened. I know you didn’t want to get married.” You sigh, having heard him say that several times when his manager would try to set him up on dates.

“Yeah, I know you don’t want to be married to me.” He reminds you with a rueful grin. “I’m not complaining though. I get to say I know what you look like when you cum.” Winking at you playfully. “So I’ve got that goin for me.” He’s thought about it all day today and he knows that it’s not going to happen, but it’s a nice thought.

You roll your eyes playfully and slap his chest. “That’s not gonna happen again. It was…a lapse in judgment. We can’t do that again. It will complicate things even more. That was…it was the drugs.” You lie despite knowing you’d love for Dieter to fuck you again.

“Yeah….the drugs.” Dieter frowns at the reminder and turns around to start striding to the bedroom. “I’m gonna go find my coke.” He calls over his shoulder. “You can do whatever you want. If my manger calls, tell her to fuck off, I’m on my honeymoon.

You chuckle, starting to unpack and hang up the clothes you’d bought him so he can pick out an outfit for later. Everything is stylish yet comfortable. You admire the dresses you’d bought for yourself, excited to wear something beautiful that you could never afford. Dieter lays on the bed, napping between snorting the coke, and he watches some movie while you get ready for your dinner. You take your time to do your hair and makeup, coming back out in a robe. “Bathroom is free. I’m gonna get changed.” You tell Dieter.

His hair is sticking up in every direction, not caring to style it after his shower this morning but he sits up when you walk past. Your makeup is sexy and your hair perfect. You look like an actress getting ready to perform her starring role. Right…this is just an act you are putting on so you can divorce him in six months. Dieter grunts and shuffles off the bed to trudge into the bathroom. If you want this to be a role, he can give you that. He’ll be your perfect co-star.

When you are ready, you walk back into the bedroom to find Dieter walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets still rolling down his skin, but his hair is styled and he has shaved. Fuck, he looks good. “You, uh, you look good like that.” You manage to choke out, hoping he likes your riskier outfit. You know that being with Dieter means you have to have a certain image. The man wouldn’t be married to someone who wears jeans and sneakers all day every day. So you hope he likes the skimpy dress you had bought for tonight.

His mouth drops open slightly, eyes fixed on the skin you are showing and his cock twitches. He loves it and he hates it, because he’s not going to be able to touch you. “You look amazing.” He compliments you breathlessly. “We need to see those cunts in the elevator again.” He chuckles. “Let them see I’m sporting a constant boner.”

“Thank you.” You giggle nervously, eyes dipping down to the slight tent under his towel and there’s a flash behind your eyes of you sucking his cock. Fuck, you can’t let him touch you again. You have to keep this professional. “Did you take viagra again?” You tease, sliding your feet into your heels to distract yourself from pulling him close and kissing him.

Scoffing, Dieter shakes his head. “Hell no.” He doesn’t add that there would be no point since he’s not getting laid on his birthday. “Natural reaction to you, sweetheart.” He turns and walks towards the closet. “Another reason I wear baggy clothes.”

You pause, watching him walk away, and you wonder if he’s just joking with you or if he’s being serious. Has he always found you attractive or does he even find you attractive now? After he is dressed, you swear your pussy drips because damn, he looks so sexy when he’s dressed up and tidy. “You look- you look good.” You choke, hoping your face doesn’t betray you, and you fumble to grab your purse so you can make your dinner reservation on time.

Dieter smirks and holds his arm out for you to take with a wink. “Can’t embarrass my wife when I take her out, can I?” He coos, knowing you hate being reminded that you married him. He can be charm itself when he wants to be and surprisingly, he only took a single Xanax while he was getting ready. The wedding band on his hand is foreign, but it somehow mixes with his other rings. “Ready to put on a show?”

With a sigh, you nod, wrapping your fingers around his arm and let him guide you out of the hotel room to the elevator. He seems…sober. You’re not used to seeing Dieter sober like this and you find you like him more. He’s not as brash or obnoxious. He’s charming and, surprisingly sweet. “I just want this to be successful so you don’t end up another failed Hollywood marriage. You don’t wanna beat Kim K and Britney on an annulment, do you?” You tease as you step onto the elevator and you lower your hand from his arm.

“First place is first place.” He jokes, looking up at the LED monitor that shows the floors rapidly descending. “Besides, I’m sure that whoever you are dating wants to kick my ass and have their girlfriend back.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling twitching and he doesn’t want to touch you more than he needs to. He likes it too much. “Just blame everything on me. They’ll believe I did something stupid.”

You snort, “you think I’m-? First of all, no. I’m single. Have been for…longer than I care to admit. Second, I would never do what I did with you if I was with someone. I was drugged and - God, thank fuck I wasn’t with someone because we - it wasn’t exactly once that night.” You’ve had more flashes, able to piece most of your night together. The things he did to you…they should honestly be illegal, it felt far too good. “Legally, I’m yours. Reality, I’m no one’s.” You answer him, feeling a little insecure that you haven’t dated anyone for a while since you’ve been so busy with work.

“Yeah, I get it.” The doors open and Dieter takes a breath before plastering a happy look on his face. “The only reason you would ever look at me is because you were drugged.” He sighs under his breath, his low tone at odds with his expression. “Can you please stop reminding me how much you hate me. It’s my birthday.”

You take his hand, “I promise you I will make sure you have a good birthday. Come on, let’s go get dinner. I’m starving. Then we can go dancing.” You can’t wait to let loose a little and remember it instead of the crazy night you had before.

The photographers are everywhere, lights flashing and Dieter just smiles and acts proud that he is with you. Lifting up your joined hands and kissing the back of yours. “Dieter! What made you marry your PR agent?” 

Dieter laughs and gives you a smoldering smirk. “Well I’ve been in love with her for forever and finally managed to convince her that I was serious. She thought I was acting!”

He is acting but damn, the loving look in his eyes almost convinced you that he loves you. “And we decided to just go for it since I’ve been in love with him too.” You coo, kissing Dieter’s cheek and the cameras flash once more. You gasp when Dieter turns his head to press his lips to yours and you let him kiss you for a moment. “Sorry fellas. We are gonna be late for dinner. Thank you.” You declare, squeezing Dieter’s hand and he guides you through the crowd of paps.

Getting into the car is relatively easy and he allows you to slide into the car before him. The driver pulls away and he looks over at you with a smirk. “Looks like they believed you.” His lips burn where he had kissed you and he turns to look out the window so he doesn’t try to do it again. “They might fall in love with you.”

You snort, looking out of the window. “If you don’t like me, I doubt they will love me. I’m just a five minute wonder. When the Kardashians or the Hadid sisters do something, I’ll be old news and that’s when we can divorce under the radar. We just gotta make them think we are in love for the time being. I know that will be hard but you’re an Oscar winning actor so you should be able to manage it.” You wonder if you’ll be able to manage it. He’s more than what you thought he was, already changing your opinion after twenty four hours in his company. Maybe it’s a residue high from the drug. You don’t know.

Dieter sighs and doesn’t comment. It won’t do any good. You wouldn’t believe him if he told you that while he hadn’t been in love with you, he had found you very attractive and he liked the sass and the fact that you didn’t put up with his shit. He was contrary by nature and you were just so good. And last night….fuck, you showed him how wild you could be.

When you arrive at the restaurant, there’s another throng of paps and fans with their cameras but the restaurant staff usher you inside to a private booth and you exhale in relief when you lean back against the cool leather. “I don’t know how you handle that all the time.” You say to Dieter when he sits beside you.

“Drugs.” Dieter jokes, giving a small shrug as he reaches for the water glass. It’s not wine, but he will order a bottle quick enough and he’s oddly thirsty. “Some days it’s okay, especially when I meet someone who is passionate about movies, but it can be a lot when it’s the paps.”

“I can only imagine. It’s…intense. I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I sit at a desk and don’t really see that side of it. The reality of it. For so long, I’ve just done damage control on different situations you’ve gotten into like when you hit the pap and I never - I always thought you overreacted but now I know.”

He stares at you a moment, amazed that you had just said that. When he had hit the pap, you had raked his ass over the coals. “Thanks.” He ducks his head slightly to study the menu. “Hopefully they don’t bother you too badly.”

"I can handle them. They just need to be bored by me and they will move on. If we have an orgy in the middle of the strip, then we might be on their radar." You joke, browsing the menu. "Shit. This place is pricey. I didn't -" You are cut when Dieter rolls his eyes and tuts. 

"Hellooo?? My wife gets whatever she wants. Plus, I make way more money than I need. Probably why I buy so much coke." He murmurs to himself and you fluster at the way he easily calls you his wife even though no one is around to hear. 

The waiter comes over and Dieter orders the wine and you soon order your meal. "I don't - I haven't really been anywhere this nice before. My parents always preferred to cook homemade meals and special occasions were few and far between and my exes, none really took me anywhere super nice."

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Wow, sounds like you dated some winners.” He doesn’t mind spending money, the people he hangs out with would verify that. But someone like you needs to be appreciated. “Well, while you are married to me, you can do whatever you want and eat everywhere you’ve wanted to try.” He lifts his brows. “A Hollywood wife must be seen after all.”

You chuckle, "I guess so." You watch the wine sommelier pour the wine for Dieter to taste and he nods, letting the man pour you a glass before filling Dieter's up. "To being fake married." You toast softly with a smirk on your lips as you clink your glass against his. "To being fake married." He responds and you take a sip of the wine, moaning in appreciation of the fruity full bodied red wine.

Your moan punches him in the gut, making it twist as he members the way you sounded last night. You still haven’t realized that he knew that the two of you got married. He wonders what you will say when you rationalize it out.

You eagerly dig into your appetizer. So hungry after so much stress. You see Dieter fidget and flex his fingers as he plays with his food. “Is everything okay?” You ask, reaching for his left hand. Another flash plays through your mind of when he slid the diamond ring onto your finger. You gasp and squeeze his hand. “Do you - if you remember last night us having - then you must remember us getting married?”

Shit…..Dieter stares down at his plate and swallows, suddenly not hungry. You are going to be pissed at him. “I do.” He admits, not looking up. He doesn’t want to see the anger on your face. Plus it hurts less when he gets slapped if he doesn’t see it coming.

You inhale sharply, now knowing that he married you and remembers it. He knew what he was doing. You feel betrayed. "Why?" You whisper, unable to muster anything else.

Dieter sighs and leans back in his chair, wishing that he had done some Coke before dinner. “It was your idea.” He reveals. “You climbed into my lap and told me that you had always wanted to slap me and then kiss me.” He huffs out a small chuckle. “So I told you to do it.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a long gulp. “It went from there, but you asked me to marry you.”

Your eyes widen. “I- I asked you- oh God.” You lean back in your seat, absorbing the news that you asked him to marry you. “Why - did I give a reason why? I need you to tell me everything.” You order, leaning closer to him.

 He gives a small shrug. “I thought you had just decided to take the stick out of your ass.” He defends himself. “Plus I wasn’t close to sober. But we made out in the club, damn near had sex in that booth. Then we went cruising down the strip and you saw the chapel and demanded we pull over.” He chuckles. “You claimed you loved those cliche movies about eloping and something about it could be a weird version of married at first sight?” He shrugs. “I didn’t know what you were talking about, but you were happy.”

You stare at him, tears stinging in your eyes and you swallow harshly. The tang of the wine on your lips when you lick them. “Wow. I- wow. It was me.” You can’t believe it was you that suggested getting married but you supposed it makes sense now. You sigh and reach for his hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault we are in this fucked up mess and I - oh God. I’m so sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t - my parents got divorced when I was a teenager so I guess I’ve always wanted to get married and do it right but now I’ve completely fucked that up.”

He reaches out and covers your hand with his other one. “It’s okay.” He knows how you feel now, in the light of day. He should have known you weren’t yourself, but he convinced himself that you had just given into bottled up feelings. It’s not true though, you are horrified at being married to him. So you’ll get it annulled or get a divorce or whatever. “We’ll have you single again in no time.” He chuckles and sends you a wink. “Smart girl, we got married without a prenup too.”

Your eyes widen, “oh God. I didn’t - I don’t want your money Dieter. You can keep it. I don’t - I don’t want you to think I did this because of - because of the money. I didn’t.” You promise, “I don’t - oh God. What a mess…and it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, knowing that your job is to protect his image and you’re the one who got you in this position.

He chuckles, enjoying the abject horror on your face. “Nah. I’ll just sign up for some really shitty movie, Cliff Beasts 75 or some shit, and tell the press at the junket that it’s so I could pay my alimony.” He teases, squeezing your hand so you don’t think he’s serious.

You roll your eyes at him, half playful, and you look down at your joined hands. For some reason, it feels far too right to hold his hand, even with the ghastly amount of rings he has on each hand. “So you wanted to marry me…even though I’ve done nothing but be rude to you?” You ask, frowning again.

“What can I say?” He gives a small shrug. “I’m a masochist.” His joke is meant to make you roll your eyes and scoff, perhaps say something sarcastic. Anything to keep you from delving into why he thought marrying you was a good idea. He was high, sure, but he never was so high that he married someone else before. His insecurities and loneliness came out last night and in typical Dieter fashion, he was selfish.

You stare at him, unsure of what to think, but you can see something in his eyes. You just can’t put your finger on it. “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you. I should’ve been more professional and I understand why you…self medicate. It must be so overwhelming.” You squeeze his hand just as the waiter comes over with your food.

He doesn’t respond with a pithy reply, instead he just leans back and lets the server set down the food. He speaks when the extra ears have left. “I get it, I’m annoying.” He gives a small shrug. “Byproduct of being lonely, I guess.”

You feel sorry for him which surprises you. You can’t imagine how lonely it must be to not know who your true friends are. To know that everyone wants something from you. “I- I really am sorry Dieter. I don’t think you’re as annoying now that I understand why. You’re just…eccentric.” You tell him and start to eat, wondering what you can do to make this man happy. How bizarre, to have gone from loathing him to…something else in less than twenty four hours.

“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He’s slightly prickly after exposing something so raw. “My life is great. Drugs, sex, whatever I want.” He huffs like it’s ridiculous to imagine being unhappy. “I live in Sherman Oaks.”

You snort, “money doesn’t buy happiness. It’s clear that you are lonely and you buy your friends and your lovers. It’s…I want more for you Dieter. You deserve to be truly happy. I know we have fucked up with this marriage but you deserve to be with someone who loves you.

Dieter sighs, knowing that will never happen. He either fucks up or they do. Or they never loved him at all. “Can we talk about something less depressing?” He whines before he changes the subject. “Like you showing me your tits at the strip club?”

Your eyes widen, “I did what?!?” Your mouth drops and you lower your knife and fork. 

“Yeah. You flashed your tits while we were in the club. Said you could get up on that stage and make me hard.” Dieter smirks at how mortified you are. 

“Oh my God. I didn’t.” You cringe, knowing you must’ve embarrassed yourself while high thanks to your constant need to suppress your wilder side.

“You did.” He chuckles and leans in. “But you were right, I did get hard.” He smirks and winks at you. “Got really hard. You liked it. Really liked it.” You had loved how hard he was and that he was a multiple rounds kind of guy.

You fluster, another flash in your mind of you taking his cock into your mouth in the limo, and your cheeks burn. “Oh shit. I did. God, I- I didn’t know - I’ve never behaved that way. I just - oh no. I’m so sorry.” You wince, not even wanting to know what he thought of you. “I, uh, I never behave that way. At least not outside of my kind.”

Dieter grins, eyes alight with dirty delight. “Yeah?” He gives a low chuckle. “You have a lot of dirty thoughts swimming around in that pretty little head if yours?” He nods. “Yeah, you do. You probably read all those smutty romances and watch porn thinking about what you would do if you just let yourself.”

You fluster, thinking of all of the books you’ve read and the porn you’ve watched. “A lot of dirty thoughts.” You murmur, looking into those beautiful dark eyes of his that are just one of the reasons he’s such a popular actor. You lick your lips and shift a little closer to him. “We shouldn’t - we should keep this professional.” Your eyes dip down to his lips and you remember how good it felt to kiss him. You want that again.

“Maybe.” Dieter gives a careless shrug, as if it’s of no consequence. “Although….we already have. And you are my wife.” He reminds you with a grin. “So technically speaking, fucking each other’s brains out would be keeping it professional.” He can tell you are curious. If it’s because you don’t remember a lot of last night or if you want to see what Dieter Bravo is like in bed, he doesn’t know. “You know what they say. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

You want to kiss him, fuck, you really do, but crossing that line isn’t something you can let go. You pull back, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “I- I don’t think it would, considering everyone takes our photo.” You gesture to the people across the room who are trying to covertly take your photo. You go back to your food, knowing it’s for the best. “We can go dancing after this, show off those infamous moves.” You nudge him playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

He wants to pout, but he knows that he’s not going to push. He never pushes, it goes against his code. “Okay.” He lown meal and forks up a bite. You don’t want to sleep with him again. Fitting for the woman who hadn’t even wanted to come here. He can see you retreat back into your professional armor and he sighs softly. “We’ll dance for like an hour, then I think I’m just going to go to bed early.” He decides. “There’s got to be another baggie in the room somewhere.”

You sigh, wishing he wouldn’t escape in drugs. Maybe some therapy would help him process better. You push that thought aside and know that you’re not his actual wife so that would be overstepping. The rest of dinner is spent in silence and you groan when you finish dessert. “I don’t think I’ve had a meal that good…ever.” You dread to think what the bill is going to say.

Groaning in agreement, Dieter doesn’t even look at the bill when it comes, pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket and handing the card to the waiter as he reaches for his wine glass to drain the last sip. “Have you decided what club?”

“Not a strip club.” You snort and he pouts, making you playfully slap his arm. “Not a strip club. There’s this club at Venetian that’s supposed to be nice. Let’s go there and we can dance then go back to the room because these shoes aren’t gonna hold up an entire night.” You stretch your legs, accidentally brushing against his. “Thank you for dinner.” You tell him when the waiter sets the bill down.

“You’re welcome.” For all his douchebaggery, Dieter tips. He had spent too many years waiting tables to survive while he was working towards breaking into the business. He signs a large tip and scrawls his signature before he takes his card and closes the leather booklet. “Ready?” He asks, standing up and moving over to your chair.

You take his hand, happy to keep your hands joined as he guides you out of the restaurant and through the hotel to your awaiting limo. Dieter tells the driver the name of the club and he leans back in the leather seat as the driver makes his way across the strip. “Can I ask you a question?” You ask and he chuckles, “you just did.” You roll your eyes and look at him and he nods. “Why do you do the drugs? What about it makes you - makes you happy?”

That hadn’t been the question he was expecting. He frowns slightly and thinks about how to answer. “It’s freeing. Fun.” He gives a small shrug. “I like the way I think, the way I feel when I’m high. It can be creative.” He snorts. “Or it can make me not give a fuck about what’s going on.”

You nod in understanding, “I can get that. Just - just being you without any kind of mental barrier. I just - last night I was free. I have never acted like that before.” You admit, “but don’t you ever get tired of it? Don’t you ever want something real?”

Dieter scoffs. “Real checked out when my first multi million dollar role was announced.” He tells you. “Real left when I slept with someone only to have them sell pictures to The Sun.” He gives a shrug that’s meant to hide the hurt and betrayal that he had felt when he realized that he was just some kind of commodity to a lot of people. “Maybe one day, when I’m old and the roles stop coming in, or they aren’t blockbusters or Oscar winners.”

You feel sad for him, you can see the pain in his eyes. He feels used and not truly loved, he has been wrung out for every penny people can get out of him. “I’m sorry you’ve been treated like that. You deserve to be treated like any other human. Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you don’t get to be treated with respect. I- I can understand now why you act that way you do. It’s an escape and a facade. If you don’t let them see the real you, you won’t get hurt.”

“Knew you were a smart cookie.” It’s not exactly a compliment, because it means he’s let you see beyond his facade. He looks out of the car window and chuckles to himself. “Want to flash the strip?” He asks, making a crude joke to lighten the mood.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes at him. “No I don’t. I’m not even drunk.” You tell him, “or drugged. God, I really did flash my tits everywhere. Thank God no one got a photo of it.” You cringe at the thought.

“Oh there are photos.” Dieter smirks, holding up his phone. “But only I get to see pics of my wifey like that.” He had every intention of deleting them, but hadn’t remembered to do it yet. “You wanna see?”

Your eyes widen, “you took photos? Oh my God. You asshole.” You slap his arm making him give a dramatic “ow” then you demand he shows you. He grins and unlocks his phone, pulling up the photos he had taken. “Oh God. I- I look - I look hot.” You settle on that word. You look happy and carefree and hot. Words you never thought you’d put together.

“Yeah you do.” You do look hot, doing exactly what you wanted and not apologizing for it. The picture where you were pushing your tits together and winking at him is his favorite. Inviting him to come suck on him. He had waited until the limo to do that. “But no one else got photos. Apparently there’s not supposed to be photos taken in the club.”

You stare at the photos, not even recognizing yourself. You look so happy. You don’t remember the last time you were that happy. Work took over and then your relationships were lackluster and you haven’t had much time for yourself. “That’s good. You, uh, can you send those to me? I really like them.” You admit quietly, loving that side of yourself that you’ve never seen.

He lifts his brow in surprise, not expecting you to want to keep any evidence of you letting loose. “Sure.” He nods and opens his messages to start sending you the photos. If you want them, you will have them. “I’ll delete them off my phone after I send them to you, but I don’t believe in that sharing photos shit. That’s disgusting.”

You have a new appreciation for him, knowing that he is many things but he isn’t a liar. “Thank you.” You kiss his cheek, wanting to thank him for being a good man. Your phone buzzes and you ignore it since the limo pulls up outside of the Venetian. “More paps but after that, it’s time to celebrate your birthday. First round is on me.” You promise, grabbing your purse as the driver opens the door.

Dieter follows you out of the limo, wrapping his arm around your waist and starting to weave through the paps. If he didn’t know better, he would think someone tipped them off. Smiling and grinning like he’s happy they are all witnessing his arrival, he tugs you closer. “Talk later! Gotta dance!”

You sigh, knowing you will need to investigate who tipped the paps off. You imagine it’s his assistant who arranged the reservations. “I’m sorry. I don’t - I’ll gotta find out who tipped them off.” You tell him as you take his hand, walking through the casino and you sigh in relief when you see the entrance to the club after several fans took photos of you and Dieter. “It’s exhausting. Having to be ‘on’ all the time.” You can’t imagine how he handles it. You enter the club, skipping the line, and are escorted to the VIP section.

Ordering a drink is quick, the server specifically assigned to your section for preferential treatment. “What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks, leaning in and speaking into your ear over the loud music. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and the entire world would believe that you two are are enamored with each other.

You force yourself to not turn your head, your lips would be so close, and you know that kissing him, or touching him, would complicate things even more. He looks so good though, the lights flashing over his face, and you want to just protect him from the fucked up world he is in and keep him safe and...loved. Shit, you gotta push that thought out of your mind. You mumble that you want a vodka soda and Dieter orders a whole bottle. "Gonna be a good night." He promises, his lips against your ear and it makes you shiver.

The music plays as the two of you wait for your drinks. He’s aware that there are eyes on the two of you, taking advantage of it by stroking your arm and leaning close, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “You look delicious in that dress.” He breathes into your ear. “Can’t wait to dance with you.”

You try to smother your whimper as your entire body lights up from his simple touch. Biting your lip, you turn your head to look at him and you swear he looks angelic with the lights flashing over his handsome face. He’s no angel though, he’s the devil in disguise. “Let’s dance.” You tell him, not bothered about the drinks.

Dieter smirks as you practically drag him out onto the dance floor. He doesn’t normally dance as much as wildly gyrate, but he can grind on someone. It helps that even though he’s behind you, you are leading the dance, something that is wildly sexy to him as he lets you take control.

You grab his hands, placing them on your hips as you grind back against him. You may be stiff and starchy most days to be professional but you love to dance. You don’t care who’s watching, deciding to finally let loose and you grind your ass against Dieter. Dipping low and pushing up against him as you grab his hands to help you stand upright. You put on a show that he clearly likes if his hardening cock pressing against your ass is anything to go by.

He groans, grinding against you and gripping your hips harshly. “God.” He hisses in your ear, loving how uninhibited you are being. “You are so dirty under that prissy veneer, aren’t you?” He teases. “You would do anything right now, wouldn’t you?”

​​You gasp when he bites down on your earlobe. “God yes. I would. I just - I haven’t had anyone to bring this side out of me.” His words send a thrill through you and you grind back even harder, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, arching your back.

Chuckling against your ear, he slides his hand down your hip, fingers teasing the edge of your dress and tracing the hem. “Let me.” He demands, waiting to see if you push his hand away. When you don’t, his cock throbs against your ass as he dips his fingers under the dress and starts caressing the skin of your thighs as he works his way higher to the beat of the music. 

You don’t push his hand away, leaning back against him, and you whimper when his fingers press against your clit through your panties. “Fuck Dieter.” You moan into his neck when you turn your head. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, this is going to complicate things and you haven’t got the excuse that you’re drugged. You’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. You are practically sober and his hand is under your dress.

“You said that so many times last night.” He coos in your ear, rubbing your clit over your panties. “Fuck Dieter, harder.” He moans. “Fuck Dieter, your in my guts.” He slips a finger under the fabric and pushes it inside you, his thumb still outside your panties and pressed against your clit.

You don’t have the capacity to be embarrassed at what you had said to him last night. The flashes you had gotten told you that you loved what he had done to you. His thick digit inside of you has you gasping his name and his chuckle makes you gush, getting more aroused while you continue grinding on him. “God, what else did I say?” You ask with a raspy moan.

“That my cock was the best you ever had and you wanted to ride it.” He pumps his finger in and out of your tight, hot cunt - loving how you’re gripping it. It’s dirty, doing it right here on the dance floor and he loves it. “Whined when I told you to go to sleep. I think you would have slept with me inside you.”

His words cause a whine to rise up your throat, making you grab onto his hair as he works his digit in and out of you. "Oh God. That - that means you must've done a good job making me cum. Was I - was I good for you? Did you enjoy it?" You ask, knowing he's had more sex than you've had hot dinners so it's a valid question and you hope he doesn't lie to appease you.

“Fuck yes it was good.” He groans in your ear and slides another finger under the panties to push in with the other on the next twist of his wrist. “Fucking hot and tight. Like a perfect glove.” He twitches against your ass.

His second finger stretches you just right and you start to lean more against him as he works you towards an orgasm. "Oh fuck baby. You're gonna make me - it's so good. Dieter. I-" You turn your head to bite down on his neck. The music is loud but you don't need to alert people around you that Dieter just made you cum. His fingers work you through it and you slump back against him, feeling almost dizzy from the pleasure. "So good." You murmur, eyes closed as you breathe him in.

Dieter whines as he pulls his soaked fingers out of your cunt, holding them up so the shiny cum can catch the light in front of your eyes before he slides them into his mouth with a grin. You’re leaning against him and not moving to the music any more. “Time for that drink, right?” He murmurs in your ear, kissing the shell again.

You nod dumbly, feeling his cock hard and twitching against your ass as he guides you back to the VIP section. When you are under the stroud of exclusive cover, you reach for his pants. "Want to make you feel good too." All care of your PR job goes flying out the window as you scramble to pull his hard cock out of his pants. The section you're in is private and the curtains hide you from near everyone in the club. When his cock is finally free, you groan at the sight of it. It's beautiful, thick and veiny and you immediately lean down to take him into your mouth, not caring about anything other than making him cum.

“Shit.” Dieter hisses at the surprise move, throwing his head back as his hand comes to rest on the back of yours. He hadn’t expected this. Maybe some teasing, but he knows you aren’t drunk or have taken anything. This is you, taking him into your mouth and moaning around him like he’s a fucking lollipop you’ve craved. “Fuck, baby. You are so dirty, I love it.” His other hand slides around your side to squeeze your tit through your dress. “My wifey’s a little exhibitionist, sucking my cock in the club.”

This is so wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this but fuck, you can’t stop yourself. His moans and the way he touches you spurs you on and you bob on his cock, using your hand to work the length that you can’t take down your throat.

Letting out a needy whine, Dieter’s eyes close and he shuffles his hips up slightly. Wanting you to try to take him deeper. “Oh fuck baby, that mouth, oh fuck it’s so good.” He rambles, practically shuddering under the hot pressure of your palette against the head. “So good, you- fuck baby.” He forces his eyes open again to watch you suck his cock, amazed that this is happening and everyone is sober. 

You’re sober but you’re also drunk on Dieter. Taking him deeper until you are choking around his thick cock. You breathe through your nose, working him deeper until you aren’t gagging. Hollowing your cheeks, you press your tongue against the underside of his cock. Your eyes water but you force yourself to open them to meet his gaze, wanting to look at him.

Dieter is such a fucking needy little shit that the moment that you lock eyes with him, his entire body gives in. Gasping out your name, his cock starts to throb, face twisting pleasure while he is pumping ropes of salty cum into your mouth. 

You struggle to keep up, swallowing each spurt of cum, but a drop escapes to drip down your chin and lands on his pants. Working him through his orgasm, you pull off of his cock and kiss the tip, loving the way he twitches, then you lean down to lap up the drop that is threatening to stain his pants.

“Jesus Christ.” When you are sitting up, Dieter lunges forward to press his lips to yours. Sliding his tongue into your mouth, not caring about the taste of his own cum in your mouth, just needing to kiss you. Dragging you closer while he groans and deepens the kiss for a long minute before he pulls away and sighs as he nudges his nose against yours. “Shit…I wasn’t expecting a birthday blowjob.” He giggles, practically euphoric.  

“Neither was I.” You admit with a giggle, kissing his jaw. “I just - I can’t seem to stop touching you now. I want to give you birthday sex.” You murmur, wanting to recreate the night before and relive the flashes you get here and there. “Plus it will be good if people believe we are actually married, like not just on paper. Maybe a noise complaint will help our case.” You tease, caressing his chest through the open buttons of his shirt.

He smirks and nods eagerly. “I can make a noise complaint happen.” He jokes, before he leans in and kisses you again. “You want to have sex with me?” He asks, lifting his brows as he looks at you softly. He hadn’t expected this, this change of heart towards him, but he’s not turning down getting you into bed again. 

You nod eagerly. Ready for him to make you cum again. “Yes. Want you to fuck me until I scream your name. Until we get a noise complaint and everyone knows that dieter Bravo fucks his wife hard.”

He knows you don’t mean that beyond the fact that you accidentally married him. Fully aware that in a few months time, you are going to divorce him. But right now, the fact that he has a wife and that wife wants him to make a claim on her has him standing up. Shoving his cock back into his pants and zipping up, he grabs your hand. “We’re leaving.” He growls. 

Your cunt clenches at his growl and you let him practically drag you out of the VIP section after he slams some cash down on the table to cover the drinks you never had. When you are out of the club, he ignores anyone that talks to him as he practically drags you to the car, pushing you inside. As soon as the door closes, you are straddling his lap and pressing your lips to his.

He’s greedy right now, pushing your dress up to your hips and nearly ripping your top as he pulls your tits. Dragging his lips away from yours so he can kiss down your chest. He’s not hard yet, that will take at least until you get back to the hotel, but he can suck on your tits and see what you like while his body recovers enough to fuck you. 

When he takes your nipple into his mouth, you arch your back and cry out, tangling your fingers in this hair. “Oh fuck baby. That feels good.” You gasp when he bites down on the sensitive flesh.

Dieter loves tits. Big ones, small ones, he just loves them. He might have a bit of a lactation kink, but he’s never been with someone that had milk, but he always imagines it as he’s sucking on them. He flicks his tongue over the hard flesh and suckles eagerly, making it even stiffer before he scrapes his teeth over it to make you shudder. Pushing your tits together and licking between them happily before he buries his face in the cavity and groans happily. 

You moan, loving how fucking eager he is, and he switches rapidly between nipples, sucking each one and making you shift to grind down onto him, your panties soaked. You know this is a bad idea but you can’t stop yourself. He’s sexy, in a garbage driver kind of way - and you find yourself needing him more than you need air. “Oh fuck. Yes. Just like that.” You hiss when he nibbles the flesh.

He grunts, keeping his mouth busy. His hands sliding down and gripping your ass as you roll your hips. Reaching around with one hand to push your panties to the side so your clit can grind down against the seam of his pants. He doesn’t care if you soak them and ruin them, he wants to see you cum again. 

“Fuck.” You cry, grinding down until your clit rubs against the zipper of his pants, catching just right to make you shudder. His mouth continues to nip and suck on your tits and you swear you’ve never been this wet. You must have soaked his pants by now and you haven’t even cum yet. “Fuck Diet. You’re gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You warn him just before you fall over the edge, crying out as you shake above him.

Groaning into your tits, Dieter feels you fall apart. Your body tense and trembling gives him a rush of endorphins and his flaccid cock is starting to respond, hardening slowly as you grind against him. He holds you close and continues to lave affection on your tits until you slump against him, panting breathlessly. “I want to die like this.” Dieter’s comment is muffled from between your tits. “Just like this.”

You chuckle breathlessly, caressing his neck and running your fingers through his hair as you try to catch your breath, still feeling the haze of your orgasm washing over you. “If you die right now, I’ll get all your money.” You tease, knowing he knows that you don’t care about that stuff.

“Worth it.” He huffs against your damp skin. “Just bury me with a mold of your tits in my face.” He jokes, pulling away from you to kiss up your chest and chin before placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You sigh against his mouth, a little shocked by the tender kiss, and you respond, gently kissing him back. Your hands slide down to caress his chest and you nibble on his bottom lip, in no rush to pull away. This is dangerous, being this intimate and comfortable, but you know things will change when you get back to L.A and have to face reality.

The driver pulls to a stop outside the hotel and Dieter groans slightly, pulling your panties back into place and tugging your skirt down as he kisses you one last time. “Time to get out of the car and pretend we weren’t making out back here.” He smirks and looks down at his wet crotch. “Although that’s gonna be hard.”

You fluster, biting your lip as you try to compose yourself. These damn hotels make you walk through the casino to get to your room. You take Dieter's hand once he exits the limo and the cameras flash, making you lean into his side. "They definitely know what we were doing." You whisper, giggling when people stare at his crotch. "Helps confirm we are really married."

“I don’t think that we will have them convinced just yet.” Dieter winks at you before he hauls you close and kisses you again. It’s wet and dirty, the kind of kiss that leads to sex and he’s very happy when he hears you moan into his mouth, clinging to him.

You whimper into his mouth, nails digging into his shirt-clad shoulders as he slides his tongue against yours. Cameras flash and you pull back, knowing that you need to get him to the hotel room now before you fuck him here and in front of fans with cameras and the paps. "Need to - to get to the room." You manage to pant, grabbing his hand to practically drag him to the elevator.

Chuckling, he eagerly follows you into the car, somehow managing to be in there with only one other couple. “We’re gonna have to behave.” He warns you playfully, smacking your ass before he turns to the other couple. “Sorry, it’s our honeymoon and she’s irresistible.” He shares a smirk with the older man, and then grins back at you.

You slap his chest, shaking your head despite the grin on your face. Shit. He’s not too bad when he’s not playing up being an obnoxious Oscar winning movie star. The other couple - older - just chuckle. “I remember when she used to be like that for me.” He winks at his wife. 

“What do you mean used to be? Still am.” The wife smirks and the husband’s eyebrows raise. 

“Have a good night.” The husband says when the elevator arrives on their floor. 

“You too.” You respond and the wife smirks over her shoulder, “oh we will.”

“Damn, he’s gonna get lucky too.” Dieter huffs in amusement. The question of if you would still be that hot for him when you're their age is on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembers that he’ll be alone again by his next birthday. He pushes that out of his mind, grabbing you and flattening you against the wall of the car, his tongue desperate to chase away the thought and have as much of you as he can while you are still here.

You moan as his tongue slides against yours again. It’s like you can’t get enough of him. Never mind having a drug in your system last night, you’re certain that half of that was Dieter. Your entire body is on fire and you struggle to find any reason as to why you hated him. The bell dings and you slide out from the wall and your husband. 

“Does the birthday boy want some birthday sex? You want me to ride you like I promised?” You coo, smirking as you start to walk down the hall to his suite. When he starts to follow you, nodding his head eagerly, you grin and grab the key from your purse. “Better catch me then.” You rush down the hall, knowing it’s gonna be hard for him to run with his cock hard and throbbing already.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, watching you take off and he starts to shuffle after you. “Wait up!” He whines, actually enjoying himself even though he wishes he was still crushed against you. It’s been a long time since sex was just playful and he is loving how easy it seems to be with you. You aren’t the uptight woman you pretend to be. “Fuck baby, watch that ass.” He huffs.

You giggle, trying to open the door, when he grabs you. You struggle to unlock the door with his hands everywhere and your hand shakes as you press the key against it, finally managing to open the door. “You’re just too slow, old man.” You tease, kicking off your shoes as you step into the suite and spin out of his arms to set your purse down.

“Fuck you I’m too old.” He huffs, slapping your ass harshly and then grabbing the hem of your dress to start dragging it up. “I’ll show you old.” He drags you back against him, grinding his cock against your ass. “Want you to ride me, I’ve been thinking about it all fucking day.” He admits with a grin, biting down on your shoulder.

You grind back against him, head lolling as he kisses up your neck, and you gather your senses enough to tell him to take his pants off. "Get undressed. Now." You order, desperate to sink down onto his cock. "Then sit back against the headboard."

“Yes ma’am.” Dieters draws out, happy to follow that order. Disrobing is careless, tossing clothes on the floor without any care until he is standing completely naked, save for his black socks. “Keep my feet warm.” He teases with a wink before he crawls up on the bed and leans back against the headboard. Wanting to see what you will say about the ridiculous look of just being in socks.

You chuckle at the sight of him in his socks, his cock resting on his lower stomach, and you push your panties down, kneeling on the bed and shuffling forward until you are hovering over his cock. “Like an old man keeping his socks on.” You tease, reaching between you to grip his cock and position him at your entrance. You slowly sink down onto him,  mouth falling open at how he stretches you.

“Does that make you the young gold digger?” He demands, leaning forward to kiss you and drag you to his chest. Wanting to feel your bare breasts against his skin while you get used to him. He knows you are probably sore from yesterday since you had told him it had been awhile since you’ve had sex. “Gonna fuck your old husband to death?”

You chuckle, “yeah. Especially since we have no prenup. You want me to - to fuck you to death?” You joke, moaning when you manage to rock your hips slowly until he’s fully inside of you. “Oh God. How don’t I remember how this feels?” You say to yourself.

“Blacked out from bliss.” Dieter huffs, reaching up and pinching your nipple. “Hearts gonna give out when you squeeze me with that tight pussy of yours.” He groans when you do just that, cock twitching inside you. “Fuck me baby.” He whines, wanting to feel you move.

You grab onto his shoulder for leverage, lifting yourself up until only the head of his cock is notched inside of you. You meet those entrancing dark brown eyes of his and sink down. Starting a little slow but building up the pace until you are rocking your hips on his cock.

“Fuck.” He pants out the word, loving how you feel around him, riding him. He caresses your hip and looks down to watch you take him. “Look at that. That pussy must be so full.”

"It is. Oh fuck. It is. I - never been this full." You admit shifting to lean back. Your hands braced on his knees as you grind forward, allowing him an even better view to see your pussy. "Fuck. This is just - so good."

Dieter is entranced, loving how your lips are stretching around him. It makes him throb and he reaches down and rubs your clit. Loving your gasp and the way your body shudders. “You look good on my cock.” He groans.

“Feels so good.” Your thighs start to shake and you nearly collapse backwards as you try to continue grinding down on his cock. It becomes too much, his fingers on your clit and the head of his cock hitting just right on every grind down, makes you fall apart. Your cry of pleasure echoes off of the walls and you slump forward as your thighs shake violently with your orgasm.

He whimpers at how tight you squeeze him, hissing through his teeth and letting go of your clit so he can start rolling you over. Needing to cum himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groans out. “So perfect.” He starts to jackhammer his hips, carelessly chasing his own high while you thrash underneath him.

You cling to him, wrapping your legs around him to push him deeper as he thrusts hard and deep into you. “Cum for me baby. Cum for me.” You plead, wanting to feel him fill you up. “Please Dieter. Cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It’s all Dieter can manage as he careens towards another orgasm. Looking down at you as he starts to cum. Hissing out in pleasure as the vein in his temple throbs and his entire body locks up as he buries his cock deep and starts to fill you up.

“So good. So good.” You choke as his cock throbs inside of you, painting your walls with his cum and you send a silent thanks to your birth control. “Baby. Oh baby.” You sigh, rubbing his back as he works himself through his orgasm.

When he’s done, he collapses against you, snuggling into your chest and tucking his head into your neck. Unwilling to let this moment end right now. Soon enough you will put that wall back up and try to keep him at a distance. “Fuck.” He slurs, feeling slightly drunk on pleasure. “Best birthday ever.”

You stroke his back, kissing his neck. “Happy birthday baby.” You murmur, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the way your heart flutters. He may be your husband on paper but after this weekend, this can’t happen again. You can’t afford for it to happen again. You need to be serious and focus on his image and the press. Work through this until you can quietly divorce.

He can feel when you start to pull away, shuffling under him. Dieter groans and starts to move off of you, pulling out of you gently and flopping onto his back with a sigh. Staring up at the ceiling and wishing that he could be granted a birthday wish.

“I, uh, need to pee and then we should get some sleep. We have an early flight back to L.A.” You tell him, shuffling off of the bed to make sure you don’t get his cum over the mattress. While you pee, you rub your eyes, uncaring of your mascara as you try to figure out what to do. You don’t know what to say to him after you just had sex sober bar a few drinks. You weren’t drugged. When you come back into the bedroom, you slide under the covers where Dieter already is. “Night. Happy birthday.” You lean over to kiss his cheek before you turn away, forcing yourself to close your eyes.

“Thanks.” Dieter stares at your back for nearly an hour, watching as you pretend to sleep and then your body relaxes as you finally do give way to sleep. Sighing, he looks back up at the ceiling again and wonders when the hell he had done the dumb thing and fallen in love with you. Rolling his eyes at himself and huffing into the dark. Admitting to himself that he had been enamored with you, and this experience had just made it crystal clear he would never have what he wanted.

The next morning, you and Dieter barely speak to each other, focusing on getting to the private jet and you’re thankful his entourage seems to have disappeared. “I- I know you don’t exactly enjoy being married to me but need to make this look good in public. I can’t - I can’t live with you Dieter. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.” You don’t tell him why, not wanting to admit that while you hated the party person he is, you have seen a different side to him, a side that you know is the true Dieter. Not the façade he puts on, what he thinks people want from him. His true self is sweet and kind and deep. He’s smart and you wish he would let others see that side of him, not just the party animal.

Dieter’s brow furrows, a hurt expression in his face and he shakes his head. “I don’t want-“ he takes a breath and decides to be honest. “I don’t want to get divorced. I want this to- try it.” He moves from the seat that he was in to drop down onto his knees in front of your own plush leather seat. “Give me six months. Six months really being Mrs. Bravo. If you aren’t happy I’ll give you the divorce. But I- I want this.” He confesses. “I was happy when we got married. I’ve been happy with you.”

You swallow harshly, unable to believe he wants you to be actually married to him. “It’s been two days, Dieter.” You shake your head, knowing you’ll be a 5 minute wonder with him. 

“Please baby. Give me a chance.” He pleads, those pretty brown eyes going glossy and part of you wonders if this is all an act. Even if it isn’t an act, he will get bored of you and if you say no, he will badger you until you say yes. 

You nod, “fine. Six months.” You agree, knowing that he will be begging for a divorce within a couple of weeks when someone else catches his attention.

He lights up, grinning from ear to ear as he pushes up to kiss you. Cupping your cheeks and moaning happily against your lips. “Six months.” He promises. “It’ll be the best six months of your life.” Smirking, he waggles his brows playfully. “And the most orgasms.” He chuckles.

You snort, knowing that he is being true when he says that. He has made you cum more times than any ex lover during an entire relationship and he’s done it in two days. When the plane lands, the paps are swarming near the gate to the private airfield but thankfully, the car is waiting on the tarmac. The cameras flash and people shout as the driver carefully navigates the crowd as he exits the airfield. “God, I hope we are old news soon. Perhaps JLo and Ben will break up soon.” You chuckle, “or maybe Chris Evans gets married and they can focus on him.” You grab your phone, knowing you still need to do your job and you wince at the amount of emails. “You have a lot of interview requests.”

He smirks and nods towards the cameras, giving them a wave before he tucks you close into his side. The luggage is already being transferred and all the two of you need to do is to get to the car. “As long as you are there, book them all.” He shrugs carelessly and reaches over to pluck your phone out of your hand. 

“Dieter!” You huff, reaching for it, but he pulls it out of your reach. “I need that!” You stubbornly insist. He shakes his head and grins at you. 

“No, my wife needs to kiss me in front of the cameras.” He taunts, holding the phone up as hostage. “Gimme a kiss and you can have it back.”

You want to slap him but instead you kiss him, cupping his cheeks and sliding your tongue into his mouth as you kiss your husband. Hoping he gives you his phone back and satisfies the vultures. You hear shouting and you press yourself up against Dieter whose arms are now wrapped around you.

Dieter grins against your lips when you pull back, already half hard and winks at you before he pulls away, handing you the phone back. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, snookums?”

You poke his chest with your phone, "never call me that again if you want your balls, Bravo." You warn playfully and he grins. 

"Whatever you say Mrs. Bravo." His words make you pause and you look down at the ring on your finger, knowing you are going to have a hard time taking it off. It seems too easy, too comfortable with Dieter. Not even 72 hours ago, you hated the obnoxious, reckless movie star and now you, God you can't even fully admit it to yourself, may even love the sweet, smart man standing in front of you. 

"We, uh, need to go." You tell him when the cases are put in the back of the car.

Opening the car door with an exaggerated flourish, he blows as he waits for you to get in before him. Totally hamming it up for the cameras and generally being in a fantastic mood as he climbs in beside you. “You’re going to love the house.” He babbles. “Have to get rid of a few things, the toys that were used with others and whatnot, but it’s perfect.” He grins as he looks over at you. “Unless you want to see the toy collection first?” He asks with raised brows. “Pick out some that you want to keep? They’ve all been sanitized.”

You raise your eyebrows, "uh, how sanitized? You know...I think we can buy some new ones. Maybe pick them out together. That would be a good couples day for the paps. Bravo and wife seen shopping for sex toys." You tease, nudging his arm. "I need to move some things over, the main things I need for everyday, and I will need to get my passport and birth certificate to change my bank account for the time being. I won't legally change my name, just my status. Less complicated."

“Okay.” He pouts, but he won’t argue with you about that. He knows that this is a trial run and you could still decide to divorce him. “I need to order you a card anyway.” He pulls out his own phone to tap out a text message to his manager to get that done for him. “I’m assuming you’re keeping your place?”

You nod, “it’s an incredible rental. Great location. I have another six months left on the rent so I don’t want to let it go. I need somewhere to live. As for the card, I know we joke but I’m not a gold digger. I’ll use it for things for the house or for you but I won’t take advantage.”

He frowns, both at the idea of you going back and the comment about being a gold digger. “Sublet the place and you use the card for whatever you want.” He insists. “I don’t even look at the statements, they just get paid.”

You huff, knowing you can never win. You nod, knowing you won’t use the card unless you need to. You look out of the window and watch L.A pass by as you make your way to his home…your home for the next six months…or less. When you arrive at his home, you are impressed and automatically in love with it. “Your home is beautiful.” You haven’t been to his home before, always conducting meetings by zoom.

The thing that is surprising about where Dieter lives is that Sherman Oaks is a residential neighborhood. It’s not the party scene and he was careful not to let things get too crazy. But often his partying is done in hotels so the neighbors adore him. “We have a pool.” He announces, leering at you. “So you can lay by the pool naked and work on my publicity.” Waggling his brows, he imagines eating you out while you are on a phone call or typing up an email.

You imagine it for a moment, just enjoying your life in your new home until you remember it isn’t your new home, it’s your temporary home. “We will see, huh?” You offer him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and you know this entire experience can go two ways: 1) you fall for Dieter hook line and sinker, or 2) you hate him, truly hate him. With a sigh as the car comes to a stop, you thank the driver who opens the door for you and you adjust your purse on your shoulder as you admire the house.

He fidgets beside you, wondering what you think of the house. “I- you can change whatever you want.” He offers quickly. “We can hire a contractor or decorator or whatever.” He knows that most of the house is already decorated, but maybe it’s not to your taste. He gives a shrug. “I’m not sentimental about anything there.”

You shake your head, “it’s beautiful, Diet. Besides, it’s your home and I wouldn’t change anything since I’m going to be here for the next six months.” You say to yourself as much as you say it to him. With a sigh and no response, he guides you into the home, telling you to security codes as he unlocks everything, and he knows you will want to stay in a guest room. He picks the one closest to his bedroom and you admire how clean and pretty everything is. “This room is bigger than my entire apartment.” You joke, setting your purse down.

“I liked the space in this house.” He comments as he hovers in the doorway. The driver is depositing the bags in the entryway and he sighs. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He offers, feeling oddly depressed now that you’re here and you don’t seem very enthusiastic about being here.

****

It’s been a few days that you’ve lived with Dieter. He had arranged for movers to collect your things from your apartment and you managed to sublet it for six months. It’s been strange, living with Dieter but not actually living with him. A lot of your work is done remotely so you’ve been hanging around the house, working on the PR disaster of your own making, plus dealing with the interview requests that come in hourly. 

Since you’re so stressed, you decide to take up Dieter’s idea of sitting out by the pool. He is in his art studio, manically painting something when you last looked in on him, and you strip off, wanting to feel the hot sun on your entire body. You hum in delight when you lay down on the lounger, spreading out to enjoy the heat and just relax.

Dieter is in his own private hell. You are here but he feels like he can’t touch you. There’s a wall between the two of you and despite the fact that he had promised you orgasms, you haven’t seemed open to sex. He’s snorted plenty of coke, groaning as his mind mellows out and feels his body relax into a blissful state. Looking out the large double doors to see that you are spread out bedside the pool, naked. Groaning, he grabs a bottle of wine and a glass abs ventures outside.

You hear him approach, his feet slapping on the concrete and you open one eye to look up at your husband. “Hello hubby.” You tease, “brought me some wine?” He nods and pours you a glass, handing it to you. “Thank you.” You sip it and moan in appreciation. “Are you going to get naked and sit in the sun too or are you gonna stand there all day blocking it?” You joke.

It’s an invitation, and Dieter isn’t turning it down. Reaching for the hem of his shirt to drag over his head before he pushes the baggy, paint stained sweats down. His cock isn’t hard, but it’s starting to get that way, seeing your tits on display. “I guess I’m joining you.”

The lounger is big enough for you both and you shuffle over to allow him to lay down. You sip your wine and hand the glass to him so he can take a sip. “How’s your painting coming along?” You ask, admiring him in the sun. God, he’s too sexy for your own good.

“It’s done.” He groans at the taste of the white that he had chosen. “It’s pretty good, I think, but you can see it if you want.” He hands the glass back over to you and nods towards your phone. “Getting my image back in pristine order?” He asks sarcastically, knowing he’s never had a great public image. He’s too much of a wild card.

You chuckle, "that's an impossible task. Those coke snorting photos are still on the internet." You tease, knowing he was younger then. "I am working on it though. Bit hard to paint you as a happily married man when you've been such a whore." You sip the wine, setting the glass down and shifting closer to him. You reach out to trace the tattoo on his chest, unable to stop yourself from touching him when he's so close.

“It’s not like people change.” He huffs, skin tingling when you touch him. “When you're single, who cares who you do?” He smirks over at you. “Not like you didn’t sleep with people, you just didn’t have everyone taking pictures of every one of them and keeping tabs like it was a lottery list of who I was going to fuck next.”

His words hit you and you realize how intense it has been for him to have his entire life under a microscope, constantly photographed. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with that. I have only dealt with it for a week and it has been intense. I can understand why you sought solace in drugs and sex." You look at him as you caress his chest, down to his tummy.

“I’m sorry.” Dieter murmurs softly, feeling bad that you’ve been put through this. “It’s one for the reasons that no one lasts.” He admits quietly. “They either can’t handle the pressure or all they wanted was the press.” He doesn’t mention that he was a shit partner. He was or maybe is (?) selfish. After all, you’re here when you don’t want to be.

You shake your head, looking at him, "you shouldn't be sorry. You are a successful actor. An Oscar winner. You have achieved greatness and you should be with a partner who appreciates that and understands that your life is under the public eye. That you are beloved by the masses. You need someone who can ground you and remind you of the simple things in life like cooking dinner or going for a walk on the beach. You are a good man Dieter, selfish sometimes, but you care too much and I think that's why you haven't found the right person for you."

He bites his lip to keep him from blurting out that he had, but she just hates him. At least doesn’t like him enough to stay married to him. Instead he plasters a shit eating grin. “I always like being ordered around.” He growls suggestively, meaning in the bedroom.

"Yeah?" You tease, sliding your hand lower until you are caressing his thigh, his half hard cock near your touch but you haven't touched him there since Vegas. "You want me to tell you what to do?" You murmur, shifting closer so you can kiss his neck, licking up to the tattoo he has behind his ear.

“Shiiiiiit.” He hisses softly, cock twitching. You touching him is like a drug if it’s own. Making his cock start to throb and grow as he hardens. “Yes.” He huffs out the whine, turning his head to beg him with his eyes. “Order me around.”

You grip his chin, keeping your eyes on him, and you lean closer. “I want you to let me ride your face. I want you to make me cum on your tongue.” You order, knowing he’s hard but you want him to have to wait. This moment is about you. You want to be in charge.

Whimpering, Dieter nods eagerly and pulls his chin out of your grip so that he can slide down the longer and lay flat. “Take a seat.” He groans, licking his lips in anticipation.

You shift, straddling his face, and you exhale shakily as you look down into those beautiful brown eyes, hungry as they flick between your face and your cunt. You lower your pussy to his face and he immediately grabs your hips, practically suffocating himself with your cunt as his tongue slides through your folds. "Fuck!" You yelp, moaning his name as you cling to the top of the lounger for balance.

He groans happily, tasting you and falling in love with the musky, tangy taste. His fingers dig into your hips and he drags you closer. He wants to suffocate himself in you, he would die a happy man right here with your weight on his tongue. Flicking his it against your clit, he groans into your folds when your thighs tighten around his head.

"Oh God baby. Feels so good." You pant, rocking your hips on his face, and you cry out when he sucks your clit between his lips. "Oh God yes." You cry, rocking your hips and using the lounger as leverage to ride his face.

He chuckles, loving that you are letting go. That woman that he had experienced in Vegas is here again, rocking her cunt on your face. Dieter slaps your ass and loves the way you squeal his name again, lurching forward and he slides his tongue deep into your walls, pressing his nose against your clit.

“Oh fuck.” You buck wildly, grinding down onto his mouth as his tongue probes deep, curling and his nose rubs your clit just right. “Shit baby. You’re gonna make me cum. Always - always know just what to do. You’re gonna make me cum and then - then I want you to fuck me. Want you to - to make me scream your name so loud, everyone in this goddamn neighborhood knows you are fuck- fucking me- oh fuck!” You squeal, thighs shaking as he hits just right, sending you over the edge.

You drench him, making him groan and rock you on his face more. Drinking down your juices as they pour into his mouth with a muffled moan of your name as you slowly grind down onto him. Happily coated in your cum and cock throbbing. 

You shake above him, riding your orgasm and you move quickly despite the lethargy the orgasm grants you to shift back and straddle his thighs, gripping his cock to sink down on his hard cock while your walls still flutter from your orgasm.

“Shit!” Dieter cries out your name, shocked by the sudden way you engulf his cock in your pussy. “Oh fuck.” He looks up at you, pussy drunk and still wearing your juices as you start to move. “Oh fuck me baby.” He groans, grabbing and squeezing your tits while you bounce on him.

You want control and you take it, grabbing his wrists and pushing them back to rest against the lounger, stopping him touching you. "You don't get to touch me unless I tell you too." You order, starting to move your hips, grinding down onto his cock. You lean forward, biting down on his chin. "Your cock is mine, I decide when you cum. You understand?"

Wailing his agreement, Dieter nods frantically. “Yours, all yours baby. Oh fuck, it’s all yours.” He babbles. “Have- haven’t jerked off since we - we got back.” He confesses, blushing hotly at the fact.

The fact he hasn't touched himself makes you wild. You start to fuck him, rolling and rocking your hips frantically like you can't get enough of him. "Oh fuck. That - this cock really is mine. Fuck Dieter. It's so good. No one has ever made me feel like this. Love it. Love it." You ramble, sweat beading on your brow as you ride him like a damn bronco.

His fingers wrap around the lounger slats desperate to obey your orders and not touch you. God, he wants to. Your tits are bouncing and he wants to suck on them. He wants to slap your ass and beg you to go faster, to use him to make yourself cum again. “Love- l-love it.” He agrees breathlessly.

Your nails dig into his wrists as you desperately seek your orgasm. “Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You lean forward a little more so the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs your clit and it sends you over the edge. Coming to an abrupt stop above him as your thighs shake, a wail escaping your lips as you cum, soaking his cock.

Keening at the hot rush of liquid covering him, he bucks up into you. Knowing that he is on the edge but your words linger in the back of his mind. “Can- can I cum?” He begs. “Please, oh fuck, please let me cum.”

You ride your orgasm, catching your breath as you look down to see the desperate look in his eyes. “Not. Yet.” You say through gritted teeth, starting to rock on him again. “I want to cum once more. Do not cum.” You order, wanting him desperate and whining and pleading.

Whimpering, Dieter clenches his eyes shut, knowing that he can’t look at you. If he watches you cum again, he won’t be able to hold back. “Fuck Bravo, think about stocks. Think about your bullshit dealer.” He hisses quietly, trying to keep from cumming before you let him as he shuffles his legs under you and tries not to cum. 

You giggle at his struggle until you moan when you find the right spot inside of you. “Oh fuck Dieter. Feel so good. So good.” You moan, cupping his cheeks after letting go of his wrists. “Keep your hands where they are. You can’t touch.” You remind him, biting down on his bottom lip to stop his ramblings. You are so close to another orgasm, your thighs burning while you grind down onto him.

“Fuck.” He hisses, pouting at you. “You’re so- so, fuck.” His back bows slightly when you clench down around him and he cries out in frustration. “Fuck baby, I-I-I need to cum!”

"No!" You gasp, on the precipice of your own orgasm and you want to deny him. He gets whatever he wants and you have a chance to control this, make him beg. You cup his cheeks before you slap him, making his cock throb inside of you, so close to busting his nut. "Beg. Fucking beg me." You demand, breathless with how close you are.

“Let me cum, please, please, please let me cum.” Dieter whines, his eyes popping open and pleading with you desperately. “Please baby, please I want- I need- oh fuck.” His body goes taunt and his hand grips the slat of the lounger so hard he breaks it, trying to keep himself from cumming.

His pleas send you over the edge and you whine his name as you cum, clamping down on his cock and soaking him again. "Cum for me. Cum for me." You order with a squeal, "fucking cum."

Shouting your name, Dieter follows your order immediately. Whining and whimpering while he experiences the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, not even cognizant of what is coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You freeze on top of him, your entire body going cold as you look down at him. “What did you say?” You whisper. You lean back to look at him, his cock still twitching inside of you and he is blissed out, eyes rolling into his head. “What did you say?” You ask louder, heart pounding in your chest.

Sighing and relaxing, Dieter reaches down and caresses your sides. “Fuck baby.” He pants softly, eyes still closed with a smile on his face. “God I love you.” He slurs and sighs again. “That - was, Jesus, I must have cum a fucking gallon’s worth.”

You slap his chest, shifting to get off of his cock. "Oh my God. What have you done?" You choke, grabbing your towel to wrap it around yourself as you walk into the house, tears stinging in your eyes as you absorb his words, most likely said in the heat of the moment.

Dieter sits up, dumbfounded and staring after you. “What did I do?” He demands loudly, calling after you, but you are already gone. He flops back onto the lounger and huffs, confused and hurt that you hate him so much that you play hot and cold with him. It’s cruel.

After his lust fueled confession, you stay away from Dieter, and avoid him whenever you can. Going to coffee shops to work or going out for lunch by yourself. It's not good for his PR but you manage to go to less popular areas to avoid the paps and anyone taking photos of "Mrs. Bravo" alone. You feel guilty, essentially abandoning your husband but you imagine he has some new pussy or ass to fuck that has distracted him. You usually go to your room, avoiding him, and feeling guilty and angry at your own silly emotions.

Since you left him alone, he’s drank, a lot. Realizing that you don’t love him and it’s almost enough to sober him. Ironic, he fucked around and did whatever he wanted for so long, but now he’s wanting the one person he can’t have. His head is pounding and he wants something to eat that didn’t come from a bag, so he shuffles downstairs to see if there is anything in the fridge. Hating how he feels even more alone than he did before his birthday.

You are bringing in groceries when you find Dieter rifling through the pantry. "You hungry?" You ask, speaking to him for the first time in God knows how long. You can see the dark circles under his eyes and the stains on his clothes. He hasn't been taking care of himself. "I can cook us something. Sit down." You order, setting the grocery bags on the counter.

“‘M fine.” Dieter mumbles, ready to slink off to another part of the house again. To wallow in the misery that he’s created. He’s good at that. “Just gonna order something.”

"Sit down." You tut, knowing he hasn't eaten properly. He never does unless you arrange it. He gets too in his head, too in his art and you know he's been studying that new script. "Sit down and let me make you something." You reach into the fridge to get him a beer and set it down on the counter before you put the groceries away, figuring out a quick pasta meal to cook.

Grunting, he twists the top off the bottle and gulps down half of it before setting it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand he watches you move through the kitchen as if you own it. “What did I do?” He asks quietly, staring at the counter so he doesn’t have to look at you. He can tell the world to fuck off, but he’s terrified of you hating him.

You set the tomato sauce down and turn back towards him. “You- we agreed to do this for six months and then you go - you told me you loved me. I don’t know if that was in the moment but Dieter - I can’t - you don’t love me. You just - I’m the closest person to you right now so you think you do but you don’t love me.” You turn from him so he doesn’t see the pain in your eyes.

Dieter snorts and huffs out a laugh. “Wow. So you know me that well huh?” He spits, irritated that you keep looking down on him. Treating him like he’s the gum on the bottom of your shoe. “You told me you’d give me an honest chance for six months.” He reminds you. “Nice to know you're counting down the days.” The chair he had sat in scrapes back as he stands. “Wonder why I’m an asshole? I admit how I feel and I get ghosted by my wife. But you don’t really want to be my wife. You’re just biding time.” He tosses the rest of the beer in the trash. “I lost my appetite.” He tells you, turning to walk out of the kitchen, desperate to snort something to make him not give a shit.

You stare as he rushes out of the kitchen, tears stinging in your eyes and you turn to flick off the stove. You clench your jaw, suddenly angry at his dismissal. He always gets the last word. You set the spatula down and follow him, banging your hand on his bedroom door after he slammed it. “You’re such a coward. You told me when you had just cum. What was I supposed to think? That you actually meant it? It’s torture living here. Knowing that you don’t really love me, you’re just - you need attention whereas I am actually in fucking love with your selfish ass and yet I can’t escape because you let us get married while I was high. I just - I hate you. I love you! I love you too, you fucking prick. Is that what you want to hear? Because I do. I can’t stop thinking about you and I thought that if I avoided you I’d save us both the heartache when you move on to the next best thing and instead you decide to mop around and then you - God, I don’t know what to do. You’ve complicated this by making me fall for you.” You slump against the wall opposite the double doors to his bedroom suite.

Snatching the door open, Dieter growls, ready for a fight. “Then fucking leave!” He hiss, grabbing you by the arms and dragging you upright. His eyes are dark and passionate. “Leave if you’re so goddamn miserable, because I’m fucking miserable. I just want to-“ he doesn’t say another word, just crushes his lips to yours desperately. Breaking down and confessing his worst fear. “Don’t leave me.” He begs between sloppy kisses, hands pulling you closer. “Don’t. Fucking. Leave.”

You react immediately to his words, reaching for him to tangle your fingers in his hair and you press your lips to his again. “I don’t want to leave.” You admit against his mouth, sighing his name as you slide your tongue between his lips, finally feeling like you’re home.

He pulls you back and starts to steer you towards his bedroom. He needs to touch you, to taste you. Pushing you through the doors as he continues to keep kissing you. Pawing at your dress in a desperate attempt to get it off of you while he keeps his mouth locked to yours.

“Wait. Wait baby.” You push on his chest, groaning when his lips attach to your neck. “Baby. I - I am on my period.” You warn him, not wanting him to be surprised or grossed out when he fucks you. He might decide not to, if it’s not his thing.

Scoffing, he bites down on your pulse and pulls away. “So? It’s natural.” He tells you casually. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to lick your pussy until you cum for me.”

You shiver at his words, realizing once again how different he is compared to your exes. That’s why you love him. “Oh God. You are insatiable.” You joke, letting him guide you back towards his massive bed. You haven’t been in here before.

He snickers and nips at your collar bone before he pushes you back onto the plush bed. Throwing off his shirt, he keeps the sweats on, knowing he will want to rush if he strips off too fast. “Yep.” He watches as you pull off your dress and he reaches for your panties, far more practical for your time of the month than sexy. “Period panties turn me on.” He jokes, winking at you. “Played a vampire once.”

You let him drag your panties down and he pushes your legs open, exposing your folds, and you fluster when Dieter finds the string of your tampon. “I- you can leave it in. You don’t - I know it’s not - God I have never done this before.” You fluster, covering your face, “can you leave it in?”

He thinks it’s adorable that you are so worked up over a tampon being inside you. “You’re so fucking cute.” He coos, wiggling his hips and settling between your spread thighs. “Don’t worry baby, it just tastes a little coppery.” He chuckles and peels your lips apart with his thumb. “Not even messy, besides-“ you pull your hands down from your face and look at him. “I eat my steaks rare.” He jokes before he flattens his tongue against your clit.

Your groan is a combination of embarrassment at his words and pleasure of his tongue flicking over your clit. With a whine, you buck your hips into his face and reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Fuck.” You sigh in bliss, having missed this…missed him. “Always so good. You’re so good at that.” You moan when he sucks on your clit.

He wants to make this good for you. Needing you to feel loved and taken care of. Plus he doesn’t mind the way you taste at all. He hums against your flesh when you tug on his hair and grind shamelessly down on his face.

“God, that feels so good, baby. So good. I love it. I- oh shit.” Your head rolls into the pillow, so sensitive from your period, and it doesn’t take long to work you up to your orgasm. His name escapes his lips as you cum when he sucks on your clit.

He groans along with you while you ride out your bliss, watching you carefully and pulling away to kiss your inner thighs while your chest heaves. “Can I fuck you, baby?” He asks softly between kisses. He’s had enough lovers to know that every woman is different during their period. He’s a selfish asshole, but he’s not that big of a dick to expect or demand sex.

“I don’t - I’m sorry. I don’t really like sex during my period. It hurts too much. Can I- I want to jerk you off. Want to watch you cum.” You offer, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his thin sweats.

Dieter kisses your stomach and shuffles up to lay down beside you. “You don’t have to, sweetheart. I don’t expect it.” He promises. “I’m not going to be upset if you just want to lay here and rest.”

“I want to make you cum. Please.” You lean forward to kiss his neck, reaching for his sweats and when he doesn’t push your hand away, you reach in to wrap your fingers around his cock, pulling him free of his sweats. “Such a gorgeous cock and it’s all mine.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you start to pump him in your hand.

Groaning, Dieter turns his head and chases your lips. “All yours.” He pants into your mouth, groaning again when you squeeze the head. “Fuck, all yours.” He’s needy, lifting his hips into your grip but he doesn’t care. Your touch feels so much better than his own and he wants to fall apart to it.

You love how eager he is for you, and you twist your wrist as you pump him, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock, and you slide your tongue into his mouth when he whines your name. “I love you, baby.” You murmur against his lips, pumping him a little faster before you squeeze the head again, swiping your thumb over it to gather more pre-cum.

Shuddering under your confession, he groans. “Fuck, gonna cum baby.” He warns you, cock throbbing in your hand and one twist of your wrist, he’s cumming. Painting his chest with hot ropes of his sticky seed while you milk him of every drop while he whines. “Love you.”

You work him through it, loving the wrecked look on his face as he enjoys his  orgasm. You kiss all over his face when he relaxes, “so beautiful.” You whisper before bringing your hand up to your mouth to lick his cum from your digits.

“I do love you.” Dieter promises softly. “It’s - I know you think that it’s just some kind of amusement or passing fancy. But I do.” He reaches over and cups your cheek. “I don’t regret marrying you in Vegas for a second.”

You smile, shifting to snuggle into his side, uncaring of his drying cum. “Me neither. I thought I did at first but I look back on it and it was just…comfortable. Like it was meant to be. I know we have a lot to discuss for our future and I know it’s gonna have bumps in the road but I don’t want to pretend to be Mrs. Bravo anymore, I want to be Mrs. Bravo. I want to be yours, your wife. I love you Dieter and I’m so sorry I’ve been such a bitch. It’s just - it’s been a lot to work through and I have needed time to figure out how I feel. I know what I feel and I know what I want…a life with you.”

Dieter beams happily, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Good.” He chuckles against your lips. “Because I want you to be Mrs. Bravo. For real. Us, together.” He waggles his brows. “Will you move into the bedroom with me?” He asks. “Let me snuggle you after sex at least once?”

You smile, nodding at him. “Yes. I’d like that baby. I’d like that a lot.” You sigh, breathing him in. 

“And I want babies.” He adds, making you choke. 

“One step at a time, my love. We have a lot to figure out but we will do it all together.” You promise and he smiles, nudging his nose against yours. 

“Together. I like the sound of that, Mrs. Bravo.” 

You giggle, giddy with happiness that he loves you. “Me too, Mr. Bravo.”

[bookofmirth]

On every character sarah writes having the same personality: why does every main girl have to be this big planner who has multiple plans on backup and never tells people, only to surprise everyone when everything goes right at the end with no prior explanation... idk if I'm putting this right, but it just made me very... annoyed

Like yeah, that worked great with Aelin, sure, but for me it just doesn't fit with Bryce? Especially on how she was just thrown at this and suddenly figured out she was The Chosen One(tm). It really bugged me, idk

Fair warning, this post rips Bryce a new asshole - not as a person, but as a character that sjm created. So I'm putting it under the cut.

Just to start, in context I said that all the hofas characters ended up having the same personality - though you can make a case for her reusing a lot of the same descriptions and such for all of them. ANYWAY...

To me, the issue is not just that Bryce keeps doing things behind the scenes that we never get any hint of, it's a bigger issue that we never get a hint that she even gives a shit.

With Aelin, at least we already knew what she was working towards and why. We already knew what she cared about and how far she was willing to go to get it. Aelin caring about Terrasen and her court and saving the people she loved was never in question. Her trauma from finding her parents dead, her fear at losing the rest of the people she loved, the weight of responsibility that she felt, we knew all of those things pretty much from the get-go. Her tendency to shut people out could be considered a flaw because she didn't trust other people to help her. We don't know about Terrasen right away, and tbh I don't remember what history we get instead and so I need to reread, but I can point to very specific values, goals, and motivations that make Aelin act the way that she does.

But Bryce - the central problem with her as a character is that Bryce doesn't care about anything, and sjm never figured out what she cares about, either.

Characters need to have central things that they care about, that drive them, motivations, things that they fear and things they would go to great lengths to protect. They need flaws, and clear relationships to the world around them. I could make a list of those things for a lot of her characters. Not all, but most.

With Bryce, I have NO IDEA what those things are. That makes it so that when she randomly find Emile, it just seems like she did it to come across like a nice person. She doesn't care about what humans are experiencing, she shits on Vanir/fae all the time, she treats Hunt pretty poorly, she isn't close to Juniper or Fury (see: their near disappearance from hofas), Danika kept so many secrets from her that I seriously doubt the depth of their relationship. Bryce was working in that library museum thing for Jesiba (I'm already erasing the series from my memory oh my god) and going out and partying and that was all well and good, but... was she going to do those things when she's 200, too? I'm not even saying that she needs to like, go get married or whatever, but she literally has no goals in life!

SJM saying that Bryce is the fun, cute party girl who also has a deep, intellectual side, a pretty woman who can also kick ass, okay, but she needs a reason to kick ass. SJM completely forgot to include the second half of that equation, which is ironic since that was a big point of her character - to prove that women can be feminine and strong, wear high heels and be smart. She failed miserably in my opinion, if that really was the goal of Bryce's character.

When Aelin is snarky to people, I know why. When Bryce is a bitch, it comes out of nowhere and is often turned on people who actually deserve her time and attention and empathy (e.g. Sathia). Aelin is an asshole to that one dude whose name starts with a D because he's a man who is underestimating her and wants to refuse to let her lead because he assumes she will be bad at it. When Bryce is an asshole to Sathia, WHY. I mean really, I wanted to throw my book across the fucking page!!!! Because that's a perfect example of how, if Bryce was guided by a set of values (feminism, I guess?) then she would have responded very differently to Sathia, who has experienced literally the exact same thing Bryce has (being betrothed to someone against her will). Instead, Bryce throws that line back in her face about "well I never let that stop me" as if what Sathia has experienced is her own fault for... not trying enough??? PLEASE. ARE YOU SERIOUS RIGHT NOW.

The whole "girlboss" thing needs.... something driving it. You can't just bulldoze people and call it being empowered. And I think that sjm has really, really simplified gender and sexuality in CC to the point that that's really the only distinction that matters. That's maybe another issue. I just have a lot of thoughts about these things lol.

Anyway. This is what happens when you write a character built on aesthetic and #girlpower, rather than making them a complete person with fears and values and joys and goals and motivations and flaws.

Okay one more point, this is NOT beyond sjm's capabilities. She obviously is much better at writing characters than this. I just think that sometimes, something suffers when you try new things. In CC, sjm was giving actual world building and magic systems a go. And the characters, really, REALLY fucking suffered for it.