Time and Time Again [Dave and Dirk Strider Oneshots]

ғιre and ιce [Dave Strider]

His fiery fingers dusted your icy body sensually, as you pushed up your leg against his. His lips, latched onto your neck began to speed up, sucking stronger. You playfully stood there, twirling his hair with your index finger. With you and control, it had to be all or nothing. He looked up at you, momentarily through his sunglasses and gazed expectantly at you.

"Remove the shades, Mr. Strider."

The blonde chuckled up at you, raising his hand gently towards your face to caress your cheek. His rough hands were a delightful contrast to your soft skin.

"A good writer," he mumbled, softly brushing his lips onto the supple skin of your neck, "never reveals his best plot twist."

Your breath hitched as he slowly opened his mouth and licked the bruise already forming on your neck. His hot breath fanned out over your neck, making you push harder into the wall behind you. Suddenly, he pulled you away from the wall and not ungently, threw you onto the bed, pinning you down.

This was wrong. You wanted to have the power here, dammit.

"We.. We shouldn't do this here, Strider."

That was half true. An elegant party thrown at a random celebrity's mansion wasn't the ideal place for this stuff. Then again, you didn't even know the hostess; your agency had forced you to come, saying that 'it would be a good place for exposure.' Exposure, my ass, you thought, snickering, the only thing I'm going to be exposed to tonight is a big hard-

"It's your fault." came the older man's voice, interrupting your thoughts. "You were the one that approached me in that getup. Did you honestly think I'd let you leave here without a little... lesson?"

He smirked up at you, chuckling.

"I can't fathom what you could mean!" you cried, "My stylist took two hours to get everything right!"

"Well let's see how quickly I can get it off," he chided playfully, "such silly, childish things like clothes aren't part of what I have planned for tonight."

You laughed, tangling your fingers in his blonde hair and moving them upwards. His hair fell slowly from your fingers, each strand sitting in an odd way.

"Is removing your sunglasses part of your plan, good sir?"

He grinned, and what little bit of his eyes you could see through his shades seemed to glint with a mischievous sparkle. That was more of an answer that you could have ever asked for. Removing your hands from his hair, you slithered your fingers down the back of his neck, causing him to shiver visibly. Your fingers grasped the stems of the glasses and slowly tilted them upwards, closing your eyes as you removed them from his face. You could feel him smile, as he pressed his lips to each of your eyelids one at a time, whispering breathily that you could open them.

Fluttering your eyelashes as you opened your eyes, you stared into pools of red lava, complete with orange around the iris. Your breath stolen from you by these works of art, you struggled to keep your heartbeat under control. He cocked his head, as if confused.

"Holy fuck," you breathed, "you're beautiful."

He laughed; a genuine grin. "Glad I could please you, my lady."

Lowering his lips back down to your neck, he gently nuzzled the space behind your main artery and your heart stopped once again.

You briefly wondered if you would be able to last the night with this man and his dangerous eyes.