#like they’re just silly and they’re doing it together

[tonycries]

BIIIG STRETCH.

Synopsis. First time fitting all of him = first time losing his mind.

Pairings. [SEPARATE] Higuruma x Reader, Gojo x Reader, Ino x Reader, Sukuna x Reader, Choso x Reader, Geto x Reader, Nanami x Reader, Toji x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, they’re PACKING, making it fit, cervíx kíssing, p talking, p slápping, use of “my wife”, dúmbifícation, BÚLGES, jealousy (Ino), BRÉEDING, true form Sukuna, dp, Shiu cameo, spítting, GOJO’S POWERS, D analysis, chóking, exhíbitíonism (Higuruma), cúmplay, pet names, swéaring.

A/N. Tony Claus is here with a biiiig gift for y’all hehehe <3

♡ TOJI FUSHIGURO - 8.96 inches

“T-Toooji- why the hell are you s-so big?” And oh, he can’t help but snicker at how you can barely even speak, barely do anything but thrash your quivering legs against the coiling springs of the mattress.

“Yeah yeah, tell me something I don’t know, doll.” Toji’s rolling his half-lidded eyes, swollen hilt plummeting down to French kiss his fat, mushroomy tip with a sappy thwack! at your teary slit. “Besides, m’barely even heh- an inch in.” 

Barely even an inch.

Toji can feel his parched mouth just lather in greedy saliva at the oh-so-cute shock slipping its way onto your pretty features. “An i-inch…Toji will it even-”

“Silly girl, ‘course it will.” You’re gasping when one big, beefy arm claws around your boneless thighs to drag you halfway down the bed. Streaking a wet swab down your achy folds - oh, the sheer size difference was so vulgar. It makes him grin, “Because m’gonna make it fit, duh.” 

Oh. 

That wasn’t a promise - it was uttered like an oh-so-simple fact.

Well, your melty mind supposes, that is what you get for stubbornly claiming that you could “take it all”. Begging. 

Over and over for days until your dear Toji had finally snapped. Had finally manhandled your poor self into the meanest of mating presses, giving your sloppy hole a mere savoring taste of the fat circumference of his syrupy pink tip-

“Oi.” Toji’s planting two swats onto the deliriously lolling side of your face. “Better not be f-fucked stupid already after all that talkin’ outta ya slutty pussy, ma.”

Hypnotized head nuzzling the sweat-slicked crook of his neck, your sloppy tongue garbles out a barely-coherent, “I-I’m not- I swear. It’s j-just…”

“J-j-just what?” Toji’s rumbling baritone hitches up into a dramatic high pitch, rounded curvature of his knees opening your trembly thighs up even further. 

“Just…”

Only to rummage a good few inches of length past your saccharinely glossy hole. Perfectly left-leaning curve of his shaft swiping down your tender spots and fucking you spellbound. Snickering, “Honestly, just loooove complainin’, don’tcha? Why don’t you ah- beg f’me, instead?”

But you can’t - couldn’t even if you wanted to. 

Because Toji was big, to say the least. 

Girthy, merciless near-nine inches of him glazed a dripping gloss of precum. And it looked like it pained him to pull out. It pained him to slip and slide a sandwiching kiss of his soft, coral pink underside between your saturated lips. Back and forth back and forth back and-

“C’mon c’mon–” he’s hissing, dark brows knitting together tight. And the way you’re pushing away his sweat-streaked strands of black makes Toji shudder. “Yer my good girl, right? G-gonna take it all like a fucking champ, aren’tcha?”

“I-I will?” You mewl, eyes nervously straying to the way he looked so comically staggering twitching between your legs. Impatient. Red and angry. It made you starved. “I will.”

And oh, Toji would make sure of that.

Making sheer white cloud your vision when he’s letting go of his hefty crownhead to thud! across your quivering hole. Before his toned hips drivel in tiny little gyrations to pump you so full - Toji’s bloated cockhead spearheading you open so solidly. And the stretch-

The stretch. 

The globular ends of his shaft mazes between your gluey walls to push you tautly to your limits. His sobbing divot buttering up every forbidden nook and cranny inside you with sappy splotches of pre - you felt so heavy with him halfway inside. 

“Ah ahh- Toji– you’re in s-so d-deep-” You’re mindlessly rovering your fingers over to feel for that fattened, cylindrical outline of his nudging further and further up your gummy orifice. Big, pearly tears bead at your eyes and make him grin. “Can feel you right h-here. Dunno if I can take m-”

But in the blink of an eye, your slackened maw is being flooded with such stringy wads of spit. Streaming in a slicked mess from Toji’s curled lips before spattering onto your tastebuds. “If ya can t-take this, then you can take all of me, doll.”

Shrieking at the plummy twitch of his split cockhead swashing another wad of ribbony pre. “R-really?”

“Mhmm, Toji’s always hgh- right.” The fat curves of his fingers smush your mouth closed. To swallow. He swipes away a few speckles at the corner of your pretty mouth, pecking an innocent smooch against your lips to wipe those excess remnants cleanly off. “H…heh- good girl. Now get ready for hah- Toji’s biiig stretch.”

Leisurely swiping down one set of his fingerpads to scissor your puffy pussy lips further and further open. Herculean hips rolling to make you gulp down more more more-

“S-See? Didn’t I hah- say this cute cunt could ngh- take me?” Toji can’t help but crush your pliant body with the weight of his muscular thighs, heaving - practically plastering his sculpted front into yours. “Take this fuckin’ cock- the one you said was too big.”

God, he thinks he could almost laugh - fucking giggle like he was air-headed at how pretty you looked underneath him like this .

Your pupils practically heart-shaped and crossing with every jackhammering roll of his hips, tongue lolling out in a way that makes him spit all over again. 

“Mhm- just one more fuckin’ inch now, ma.” Well, more like three - but Toji had the feeling you were too cockdrunk to tell the difference, anyway. And with a sodden slap! against your perked clit, he’s curling a calloused few digits around your throat. “Better take it all now.”

Dragging you - biceps flexing when he manhandles you from your throat to push you down millimeter by millimeter, suck him snugly down your elastic walls. And you didn’t know whether you were lightheaded because of that choking restraint or because of the stretch-

But then…

“Oh- Oh?” And something in Toji’s tone makes you blink your thoroughly glassy gaze to rationality. “Fuck- wait-” Toji gasps, he heaves. Willowy eyes bulging, snarling when he feels his ears pop! “Wait, don’t tell me- m’really…really…”

He was. 

Now, Toji never claimed to be an optimist - he never said he was a miracle-worker but fuck- was this real? You were really, really milking all of him? This was what it felt like being buried balls-deep inside you? 

God, he could die right now between your legs and still be a happy man.

Because he feels like his entire body has been zapped with a zillion bolts of electricity - like he’s in heaven. Stemming all the way from the lustrous little thwack! of his pulpy tip against your spongy cervix. 

“Are- are you all the way inside?” You’re sobbing out, whines clawing at your throat with every smooth whack of Toji’s fattened cock into your goopy depths. 

“I…” And Toji wants to answer - he wants to not look like a wordless fool in front of you but he can’t right about now. Scarred lips falling parted, he can barely even breathe right about now. Sharp jaw slacking open into a sexily husky laugh, “Yes. Hah! Atta girl, there we g-go. Knew my girl could ngh- do it.”

“Too big” his ass. 

In the lazy blink of your weepy eyes, Toji has the two of your sweat-simmered bodies flipped over. Your own glued to his toned front, nails clawing at his bulging deltoids, head drooping between his cushiony pecs.

Bubbles of spit and pure whines flood your mouth when the massive mountains of Toji’s palms sift underneath your thighs to help you ride. Starting off slow - stumbling - presenting you with languid, tumbling thrusts that shape your fleshy insides to every ridge and curve of his cock. 

Roughened digits pushing you down. Even more. 

“Now…here comes the fun part tha’s gonna end up with you heh- pregnant, ma.”

♡ NANAMI KENTO - 10.25 inches

“Am I…am I really that big?” 

If this was anyone other than your dear Nanami you’d have huffed at that subtle brag of a question - but Nanami wasn’t bragging. And he wasn’t aware of just how much that simply sopping slide of his blushing shaft into your gooey depths was splitting you apart. 

“Y-yes–” you’re mewling out, tangling your fingers with his thick ones to trek them all over your stuffed lower tummy. And Nanami gasps at the bloated nudge of his fat tip against your buttery walls. The outline. That you can feel from the outside. The curvature of his greedy thumb smearing down the mushy rounded edges tenderly. “S’like m’gonna hngh- break.”

Stern lips puckering up to kiss away the pearly tears that lather your fluttery lashes, he’s rumbling from the back of his throat. “Shhh…if you c-can’t, my love, then we can always-”

“Noooo-” God, Nanami loved to see that smack mouth of yours wobble with a few breaking whines, falling into a soft oh! when your squirmy hips shuffle a ravenous few gulps of more and more of his inches. “Want it- want it all.”

“Are you sure, darling? M’only halfway in right now.”

Nodding - nodding and nodding because you’ve never wanted anything more. A simpering trailway of drool sloshes from the slackened corner of your mouth when he’s slapping his weepy cockhead in two nice slaps into your extra sweet orifices. 

He was long and thick - unfairly so. Equipped with heavy breeder balls that thump! thump! thumped against your thighs in the same needy rhythm as your heartbeat. Messy. The tannish blushing divot on his mushroomy tip barely even having to try to sugarcoat your goopy depths with a sweltering hot few splotches of creamy pre- 

“Then…” Nanami’s wrenching you out of your cockdrunk little daydreams, and you’re faced with his utterly loving gaze. “You can hah- hold my hand- squeeze it if it gets too…much, my love.”

As if you ever would tap out.

Because the stretch was so addictive. 

Every single one of his shuddering drives making your dewy eyes sprint all the way hidden at the back of your lids. The exact degree of his arch having you let off a few keens, legs thrashing with the depraved kiss of his sappy cockhead against your g-spot. 

“Hey hey-” Nanami’s slanting his mouth over the rivulets upon rivulets of cold sweat beading at your forehead. And in turn you desperately crane upwards to kiss his plush pecs. “Remember what we talked about hngh- before?”

“Y-yes. Simple breathing techniques ah-” you’re crying out as he sneaks in a good swab down your slippery walls. “S’best to oh! Take slow, d-deep…long breaths to relax.”

Nanami chuckles out at your whiny little emphasis, every slow breath of yours helping his dexterous fingers guide that hooked bend of his knotted cock to bump into your treasured spots. Deeper.  “Mhmm– good girl, relax. What else?” 

“A-and- focus on one part of your ah- body t-to-” You can feel your weepy cunt pulse – thoroughly full and just about all that you could focus on. Inch by fucking inch disappearing. “-to boost awareness and…relax.”

Yeah, certainly enough for Nanami to tut when your glutinous pussylips tack on even tighter around him to halt his merciless pathway. 

“Hate to see ya strugglin’, darling. Hold on t-tight-” Nanami’s blond brows simmer with a fresh sheen of perspiration at the tiny resistance. Strong arms dredging your useless legs up onto his broad shoulders. Indenting circular bruises with just how hard your heels were digging in. But oh, he doesn’t care. Doesn’t give a shit if it hurt - instead, planting a sweet few pecks at your ankles. “Because s’a bit of a biiiig stretch.” 

He’s hiking one athletic thigh up even higher, adonis-like muscles flexing when Nanami arches his back and bends you easily in half. 

Sweetly toying a few circular brushes of his fat thumb against your neglected clit. You’re at the utter mercy of the deepening angle walloping his crownhead into your spongy cervix. Dragging his wet tip in a saccharine few ribbons of velvety pre, you’re being absolutely flooded with the sheer size of him. With all of him-

“I-is it all in?” You’re sobbing out, only for Nanami to stray his hypnotized eyes accordingly downwards and gasp. 

“S’all in- ohhhh s’all in- my perfect, perfect girl.” Nanami’s regal nose crinkles with sheer bliss, condensely fogged-up glasses leering further and further down his nosebridge. “N’ s’like y-you’re gonna be hngh- split apart, darling.”

And it felt like it.

Like Nanami was trying to mold your rubbery cunt into the exact shape of him, sticky kisses of his tight balls making you shy. To make sure with every bruising circumference of his overfed tip that you won’t forget him. Forget his size.

“G-gonna hafta get this pretty pussy hngh- used ta me.” He’s tilting his head down at that addictive image of your slurping pussy greedily sucking up every drilling jackhammer, every gyration, every grind just to watch the way your eyes bulge when he’s probing deeply into your cervix. “Jus’ hafta hngh- fuck her to the sh-shape of my cock oh!”

Every clingy squeeze of your gluey walls felt like you were doing that exact thing, and Nanami can’t help but let his toned hips poke languidly into your slicked g-spot. Sloshing a few tender dabs when he’s latching his mouth around your ankles to bite. To worship. 

And it makes you sob. It makes you moan. It makes you cum - gasping in surprise at the sudden crash of your high, legs locking around Nanami’s thick neck.

You’re feeling limp - your eyes half-shuttering to a close at the flurries of stars in your vision. Barely even able to breathe let alone register the simpering smile plastering all over Nanami’s face when he locks your ankles behind his head with one ravenous hand. 

Still moving. Still aching. 

“My love…” He’s starting off. Low. Promising. You’re being gifted with a slow, slow filth of a kiss, still having his pretty lips sucking on your tongue when he hums. “Don’t think I’ve molded you ta my ngh- cock jus’ yet.”

♡ GETO SUGURU - 9.54 inches

It’s been hours now - hours. 

Hours of Geto cracking open your trembly legs to mouth over that glossy wetness between them, making out with your slobbery pussy for ages until you were still dizzy with the slow tangle of his soft tongue against your treacly clit. 

Still feeling the aftershocks of your nth orgasm when he’s flooding out a few viscous spurts of cum that slop between your pursed pussy lips. Gleaming sultry little lip-stain that he’s oh-so-unashamedly swabbing along a few fingers.

“Hmmm, now this won’t do–” Geto’s popping those slender digits into his mean mouth, snickering at the awe-struck little gasp you’re letting off. “Ain’tcha embarrassed to be th-this fucked n’ I’ve only put the tip in, gorgeous?” 

He was so unfair. 

Dark brows marrying together sexily when he’s spending a sloppy few seconds pretending to think, “Whaddaya think? Can you ah- take me even when you’re being this full?”

And full you were - being teased over and over again. Fucked with only the hefty, globular curve of his pretty, pierced cockhead until your poor pussy was frosted with a thick, creamy lather of Geto’s seed. Trickling between your legs and splotching over where you were hovering over his muscular thighs, bouncing with your precarious seated position. 

Huffing, one hand of yours grapples onto the mountainous terrain of Geto’s sculpted deltoid. The other curling around his pale, sweat-slicked throat in a way that made him drool. “Been w-wantin’ all of ya you, all this ngh time, Sugu–”

SMACK!

“Speakin’ out of turn is rude, y’know?” Geto soothes over the swatted imprints of his fingers on your ass. Before rovering down, down, down, to dredge out the most sinful slurps when he slides one greedy index over your sodden slit. “Right? N’ we were havin’ such a ngh- good conversation.”

That cold studded Prince Albert on Geto’s blushing mushroom tip skims between your pussyflaps, feeding you inch by fucking inch until he stopped just past the tip. As usual. 

“Hmmm, what’s this?” Pointedly ignoring your broken little whines in favor of guiding his trekking fat crown to bump that metallic piercing against your gooey sweet spots. To bruise. “Ya want more? Heh, so filthy how ya think ngh- more with this pussy than that pretty lil’ head of yours, gorgeous.”

“You’re the filthy one, Suguru–” you’re whimpering, fingers digging even tighter around his throat at the rude smirk on his pretty face. And you can’t stop yourself - you can’t help yourself - when your hips shiftily sink deeper. And deeper. 

“W-woah-” Geto’s puffy breaths hiccup, before clearing his throat into one stray hand. “I-I mean- fuck! Can see it from the outside.”

Indeed, he could. 

You were so fucking pretty sat upon him like this, with your slobbery pussy weaving out squelching rivulets of cum. Your chest heaving in a way that makes Geto’s mouth water, his eyes locked on that lecherous little bulge where he was scouring a pathway to your very womb.

He’s giggling - delirious and drunk. “What a cute lil’ pussy- s-sooo fuckin’ tight. Feels like m’gonna break ya…h-heh.”

And it’s only when you stutter, when our drizzling jaw shudders open with a cracking Sugu– that he lets his eyes rip away. His hips jutting upwards with a pressurized push-

“Awww, my gorgeous girl struggling to take this hah- big cock? Wanna take it all but you can’t?” With a rough hand latched onto your waist, Geto fucks up into you so tauntingly, rigorous little pushes and pulls that pump you spellbound. And he’s viciously thumping open your sappy pussylips, mouth drying up at the sight of those silvery sploshes of cum. “Y’know m’not gonna fit if ya don’t relax, girl.”

“I-I am relaxing-” you’re bawling out, head lolling backwards at the utter stretch. It was ridiculous, and your blood curdles with just how good it felt. 

Because Geto was so thick. Girth more intimidating than any toy you’ve ever even seen, such a pretty blushing beige. Pricked with one chilling silvery stud at his tip and then another at his bulky hilt, right after the ends of his neat happy trail - one that you oh-so-desperately wanted to reach.

“Liar.” He’s snapping - snarling. 

Making you flinch at the lurch of something dark and hot swimming in Geto’s half-lidded eyes. Long, dark lashes batting innocently up at you when he’s lacing two sets of readied fingers on top of your sweat-dampened head and pushing. “W-wait, Sugu what are you-”

“This pussy is s-soo much more ah- honest…aren’tcha?” And it takes only one more final rapid swat at your gloopy cunt, one wet strike of Geto’s round-tipped fingers before he’s bulldozing you downwards. “Hm, bite on this.”

He’s presenting you his toned arm - mercy. 

Your teeth mindlessly clamping onto his awaiting forearm, gurgles of moans and screams concocting together as your hips buck- Losing your nervous footing to finally plant a pretty peck of your glossed pussy lips against his toned base, to finally have his orbed piercing nudge your throbbing clit. 

And he was big - so, so big that you couldn’t think. Couldn’t breathe at the sodden stripes of his pulpy cockhead etched into what felt like your lungs. 

With a soggy pah! you’re letting his arm go, kissing over the sunken indents of your teeth across his flesh.

“O-oh-” Moans upon moans are tumbling out of your mouth before you even realize, and you can’t help the way that your hips are bustling up and down in a filthy cadence. “I-It feels so…”

Alternating between the sloppiest drags up and down up and down his thickened length and lazy swivels that result in fat drags of Geto’s piercing onto the mushiest parts of your clit. He was so fucking big that your fatigued legs could barely even bounce up to his uprightly curved tip. 

“Yeahhh? F-feels nice havin’ me all ngh- inside ruinin’ your cunt, huh?” Geto’s leaning his body further backwards to take in every single detail of you. One arm bounding behind his head and making his biceps flex, the other helping manhandle your needy hips. And you swear you hear his voice falter, you swear you could hear his teasing baritone crack into a whine. “Look how ah- well she’s takin’ me- don’tcha think I deserve a lil’ r-reward, gorgeous?”

Ah, of course he does.

And as soon as you’re craning your head forwards, you feel the sudden twitch of his swollen tip colliding against your cervix. Gushing in ribbony strings of pre when you pry open Geto’s pretty mouth and spit-

“Messy girl.” He’s swiping away that purposeful little splatter of translucent saliva pooling at the corner of his sappy mouth. Swallowing. “Hope ya know m’gonna be doin’ the ngh- same with my cock riiiiight…” Before trailing that very same finger up, up, up to draw an invisible line at the bullseye of your womb. “-here.”

♡ CHOSO KAMO - 8.20 inches

“Jus’ need the ah- tip, pretty baby–” Choso’s begging - pleading from his splayed-out position spooning you - and he’s fucking his fat, ruddied cockhead into you desperately. Animalistically. Like it’ll be the last time - when in fact it’s the first. Ever. 

Slurring out a drawling few squelches from your overstuffed pussy, the way you’re glistening all your lustrous volumes of slick down his generous length makes Choso simply keen. Hulking body breaking out with shivers once your nails scrape against his sweat-lathered scalp. 

“But I want more, Cho-” That sullen pout of yours is enough to drive him wild. To bump up at least once more of his inches out of a staggering eight past your gooey ring of muscle, molding your entrance to that girthy bend of him. “Y-you’re so fuckin’ big n’ I want it all.”

Oh. 

Oh.

“Y-you shouldn’t say those ngh- things when s’my first time–” he’s scrunching his brows adorably shyly, one strong palm lifting your trembly thigh even higher to eye the teary trail of cum he’d left off just earlier from simply putting it inside. “Don’ wanna have a ngh- r-repeat of that.” 

How cute.

Choso was so embarrassed that his precious pink blush was reaching all the way from his regal cheeks, down to his bustling tip. Messy and angry. 

You’d heard that it was always the quiet ones - and Choso was hung to a T. The expansive swollen outline of his rock-hard cock smearing against your elastic walls in a way that felt permanent. Your poor pussy was swallowing up so many copious inches again and again and it felt like Choso always had more to give. 

His long length guides a sultry bash against your puffy g-spot, spearheading your gluey walls to mold around his size like butter. Swirling such voluminous heaps of cum that layer him in creamy rings.

“M’being serious, baby-” you’re purring, silken sweet tone of your voice making Choso gasp. Handsome cheeks burning bright red when he’d faced your greedy gaze over one shoulder. “I-it feels so good ngh- you’re in so deep.” 

Choso’s coral pink lip wobbles delicately, face flushing your favorite shade of red. “M-me? Don’t even know how to hngh! use it…r-really? Me? But m’just a virgin-”

“Was a virgin, baby-” You’re correcting him, deft fingers nimbling through his soft locks to pull. And it’s enough to make Choso rut- enough to make his reddening hips shovel even harder. “N’ no need to be so shy. You’re so big you might’ve ngh- jus’ ruined everyone f’me.”

And oh. 

Choso can feel his mind shatter, powerful hips working overtime to plunge another sappy stroke that thuds against your g-spot. Deeper. And deeper. You’re half-wondering whether he even realized that he was way, way past “just the tip” now. 

Nah…definitely too pussydrunk to.

He’s sucking on your kiss-bitten lips like his favorite sugar-coated candy, whimpering out. “G-good. Don’ want you f-for ngh- anyone else.” And you swear you’re catching his doe-eyes dew over with a veil of tears. “Want you to be mine.” 

Grinning - cockdrunk, heart-eyed. “Already am.”

And that extended to that greedy cunt of yours. 

Of course, it did. Why wouldn’t it? 

Choso’s on the very verge of sobbing to himself about why he didn’t do this much, much sooner when his dextrous palms smear open the drool-worthy globes of your ass to sneak a long, mouthwatering eyeful of your stuffed pussy. 

He’s so filthy. So urgent skimming two fat thumbs over to spy the way his fattened cock was disappearing between your soppy pussy lips. Fat and heavy, bullying in solid squeezed into your comparatively tiny opening.

And the sight makes him grunt, “S-such a pretty pussy. Could fuckin’ worship her heheh. I hope you don’t ngh- mind, baby, if I…”

Oh, and you didn’t mind. 

Didn’t have a mind coherent enough to think at all when Choso has to scissor your slick-flooded hole open with his thorough digits to be able to fit in the rest of his raw length. Saturated, solid ruts pushing past your tiny resistance - your poor entrance being stretched further and further with his circumference. 

He has to - he needs to because the stretch was so cozily tight. So sinful. Rubbing his ridged veins down the treacly sides of yours walls, you’re being stuffed to the brim. 

His spattering seed glomping out of you and creating such a fucking mess. Helping Choso slip and slide his thighs to engulf your own.

“Pretty pussy…ohhh what a pretty pussy.” He’s hissing to himself - slurring like an intoxicating mantra. Your honeyed squelches were so loud, answering him practically. “Baby, I want you…need you. Need you to take it allll up inside, m’kay?”

And you can only manage out a stream of dripping wet gasps puffing hotly from between your candied lips, shivering at the honeyed drip of his thick crownhead mussing up the sploshes of cum seated inside you. “G-gonna take it- ah-don’t miss, Choso–”

“I’d never.” But the one thing he might do is be rendered utterly stupid when that cylindrical shaft of his plunges impossibly deep into your gooey orifice. As deep as it would go. As deep as he could give. 

And you swear that Choso stops breathing for a full few seconds once he first bottoms out. Still regaining the blurring vision in your gaze with how you felt fit to burst, you’re opening your mouth with slight concern-

“Th-this…feels so heavenly- fuck! Why does it feel so heavenly?” Choso sounds so genuinely awestruck. Scared. Words dripping with the slight tremble of an exhilarated giggle when his sopping tip curves its way to thud! against your cervix. “I- woah th-this doesn’t feel like my fist at all.”

And every slight bit of recoil makes Choso tut, makes him plant pound after pound onto your battered cunt until you see stars. He was fucking you like he hated you - and babbling pussydrunkenly like he loved you.

You’re mewling through bliss-lathered tears, “D-does it feel good, baby?” 

Oh, Choso really did love you.

“I…I’m fucking you-” he’s breathing out. “I-I’m really fucking you and…”At your encouraging little coos, Choso only swelters with a wafting red blush. Buttony divot at the very ends of his achy cock twitching with a promising squeeze of his hefty, full balls. “...can we hold hands as I cum?”

♡ RYOMEN SUKUNA - 13.3 inches

Nice - the cursed king of curses said he was going to be nice. But if this was his way of being “nice” then you didn’t-

“Tch, that pretty lil’ head of yours scrambled already, brat?” That gruff, rumbling little scolding from underneath you makes you jolt, winding sparks of electricity sprinting down your perfectly arched spine when Sukuna’s punishing your brimful cunt with a sloppy smack! 

Such a sleazy grin overtaking his sexy features at the stunned expression on your face, he’s bouncing his adonis-like knees to jostle your greedy hips up and down up and down up and-

“Can’t ngh- talk now, huh?” Sukuna’s tittering out, a few more numerous swats upon swats being pounded upon your bulging cunt. And the syrupy squelch! emanating from down below is enough to make him groan. Brows knitting, teeth sharp when he grins. “Honestly, woman- aren’tcha used to that stretch by now?”

Fuck- it would be impossible to get used to such a ridiculous size. 

Sukuna’s towering height of seven feet translating into matching cocks that make you gape, your drunken maw parting stupidly open when his twin swollen lengths plunge up into your goopy depths. Reckless. Rude. Your felt like he was fucking open sweet nooks and crannies that you never even knew existed.

That vulgar size difference was everything.

Because he was so girthy - wisps of precum slathering like torrents against your clingy walls. Tautly pulled over thick thirteen inches - and not just one, two of them - that were making you whine-

“B-but-”

“Ah ah-” Sukuna’s cutting you off, sugary tips pecking a hollowing little smooch of his candy-coated pre against that spot in a way that makes you shut up. “Can’t forget our manners now hngh- can we? Raise yer hand when ya talk to the king.”

And it was a joke…partially. It was something to make your beautiful features scrunch up in that adorable pout of yours - not something to make you wrench one trembly hand upwards and listen to him.

“S-s’not my fault-” you’re huffing out, your wondrous hands roaming all down those sinful curves and dips of Sukuna’s muscles thereafter. Resting on their favorite place at the fleshy mounds of his pecs to squeeze. “You’re just so big.”

Rolling his eyes, you’re being angled so that his oversized second tongue can press a dripping smooch against your plump clit. 

“Compliments aren’t gonna g-get me to be any hngh- nicer, mama- C’mon you know that.” And he’s sure to make it so that you never forget if the merciless few more thwack! of his five fat fingerpads down your teary slit were to say anything. “M’already bein’ nice letting you ride me.”

And ah, he’d never admit how pretty you looked like this.

With your sappy cunt stretched wiiiide open over his bumpy cocks, your entire body lathered in sweat and sheer need when he’s sinking in a few more bulky inches. Puffing your pussy lips up until you were about halfway down his raw, red cocks. 

“But ah…yer right about one thing.” Sukuna titters and the flurries of emotions that overtake your absolutely fucked-out face. Head lolling to the side when you’re trying to remember what you even said. Cute. “Lemme heh- jog that memory o’ yours, brat.”

And it was such a blessing - or a curse - that Sukuna had four arms. Four massive, strong arms that were busying themselves with driving you wild.

Two of them caressing the sultry curve of your hips, manhandling you up and down all his copious inches with all the dignity of a ragdoll. A third clawing on top of your cottony-filled head and forcing you to look- to spy where his fourth hand was. 

Sharp, blackened nail of his burly index tapping those ringed tattoos at his inner thighs. “See these?” Doesn’t matter if you didn’t because Sukuna was making your cockdrunk head motion out a nod for him anyway. “Well- then see these?”

Oh, you had to crane your head - you had to stop your condensed gasp from dripping out of your mouth when he’s swiping his fingers across those matching black rings tattooed around the very hefty hilts of his cocks. 

Neat. Stark against unruly tufts of pink. Lacquered with a glistening layer of your sweet, sweet juices. 

“Gotta take it ah- allll the way until there, got it?” Sukuna muses, plummy split-ends of his shafts pummeling even harder against the gumdrop sponge of your walls. Very same finger drawling lazily up, up, up until he was drawing a smug line across way past the middle of your tummy. “So get r-ready for a biiiig stretch, mama.”

And it wasn’t just the stretch - not even the double stretch - triple. Triple the invasive rummages inside your snug channel when Sukuna’s swirling his large secondary tongue to lap up every sliver and every bead of slick slobbering from your cunt. 

Sloshing a gleaming trailway down the very middle of his rosette tastebuds so lewdly when Sukuna grits against the resistance, hips pushing and pushing-

“Ah- ah!” Your hips are like a pendulum still deciding between swallowing up more more more and running away. “I-I don’t think it’ll ngh- dunno if I can t-take any…”

“Nuh uh, no running away.” Sukuna’s greedy hands devour every naked inch of you to stuff you full, tongue working overtime to push open that elastic entrance to your pretty cunt. He knew you could finally take it all. He knew. And he was going to do it. “Made yer bed- now- lie- in it-”

There’s a deafening pap! of your body glissading into his when with a final, determined thrust, Sukuna’s bottoming out. Your pussy lips smooching both his sexy circular tattoos with their first-ever kiss. For the first time in a thousand years. For the first time in his life-

This is what it feels like - this is what it looks like.

You were so stuffed past the brim that you could feel your pressurized ears pop! White-hot pleasure flashing behind your lids when your mouth opens with a raw shrill. 

“So? S’it feel good bein’ all ruined inside?” He’s tittering - choking on rude little whimpers threatening to spill from his even ruder lips. 

“Yes- please it f-feels so…”

And then you’re cumming.

“Oh? Cummin’ already just from taking that cock you said was hngh- t-toooo fuckin’ big?” He leaves a few ravenous bites over the tender crook of your neck. “What a heh- slutty cunt o’ mine.”

Sukuna’s realizing before you when his hips rut upwards into the tight fit to pound you through your high, over and over slapping his heavy cockheads against every tiny geyser of an orifice. Until you felt like you were about to burst-

“O-ohhh look at that gorgeous ngh- bulge.” Sukuna’s voice bleeds its way into a whimper - whimper. And if any other curse saw that heart-eyed filter in his gaze, the way his smile grows simpering, then they’d faint. “Almost makes me think of something…else.”

You, all round and glowing - and not just from the thorough rummage of his dual shafts messing up your poor insides. Outlined with thick cylindrical bumps forming their way at your precious womb. 

The sight is enough to make Sukuna’s heavy-handed cockheads glaze your mushy cervix with a few ribbony spurts of pre. Flooding. Overspilling. Enough do that he’s digging in a thumb hard to feel for the soppingly wet thwack! of those volumes of velveteen splatters.

Murmuring, “Y’know…how do ya feel about the curses getting an ah- new heir, brat? And their very own queen.”

♡ INO TAKUMA - 7.64 inches

“Shhhh, jus’ an inch more- only an i-inch, pretty.” Ino’s heaving, his plummy, split-ended cockhead gushing out a lazy few rivulets of syrupy pre down your sappy slit. “I know that you can do it…take s’more f’me?”

“I-I want to-” you’re gasping out, legs wrangling an even tighter grip around the slender curve of your beloved boyfriend’s toned hips. Mashing his ridged washboard abs against the sensitive backs of your thighs, “But I don’t know if it’ll fit…”

You say that but you can already feel the way your elastic cunt was constricting and molding to the exact sinful curvature of Ino’s swollen cock. Wanting more more more-

But how could you not?

He was so unfairly pretty - fat, burling inches that rummaged your insides with a sugary layer of sloshing precum. It’s like his plump tip was bawling with every smack! down your puckering pussylips, reddening with an innocent flush that matched his cute cheeks. 

“I want it- no, need it to ah- g-go all the way inside-” Ino’s panting begs stumble into your deliriously open maw, the slick gyrations of his tongue tasting you. Savoring. Ringed fingers splayed out and pressing down hard onto the heaving surface of your tummy. “-need everyone t-to know how I’ve ngh- ruined ya for them.”

It’d only taken one sneaking glance at the way some loser at your work was a little too close, a little too…flirty. Simply one spark of that green-eyed monster inside him for Ino to all but drag you home and bend you into such a mean mating press. 

His pummeling hips even meaner. Babbling with every dousing swab of his fattened cockhead probing into your goopy depths. Pushing and pushing. “W-wanna be good f’you, y’know? Wanna be…yours.”

“Ngh- s-sweet-talker-” You’re spitting out, heart lurching oh-so-traitorously at the little blush dusting its merry way all over Ino’s handsome cheeks. He’s ready to burst into flames when you’re hiccuping, “Fuck me, baby- with all of you.”

Those words are barely out of your mouth - the thought barely even registering in Ino’s fuzzy scribble of a brain right now before he’s tugging his hips back a sodden inch and sinking in.

“Mhmmm- don’t worry, pretty-” Ino’s gruffing, scorching beads of sweat forming a dotty mosaic over his blissed-out features. “-Taku’s gonna make it fit- h-heh, yeahhhh m’gonna make it ngh- fit-” So snug that he can’t pound into the way he wants you. Huffing at the resistance, he’s latching onto your peaked clit with a pointed pinch. “-or m’gonna die trying hah.”

A promise - well and fully intended to be made true. 

Abs flexing with every tight little grind that whacks against your sweetened spots, short. Punctuating. Harder and harder until you’re hearing a watery pap! and Ino’s finally - finally - driving you overwhelmingly full with the ruthless dab of his angry, peach-pink shaft impaling open your deepest insides. 

“O-oh.” Ino’s breathing out, chestnut eyes bulging out almost comically at the sloppy trawl of his rock-hard cock in and out. “It fit- it…it actually fit. Mhm- s’that too big for ya, pretty?”

And Ino loved your smart mouth - he loved whatever honeyed syllable would drivel from your pretty lips. But seeing you like this - gasping, and fucked oh-so-dumb on his cock - Ino thinks that he could cum right here and now.

“R-right now?” Your breath hitches, chest heaving to steady your gulping inhales. Impossible with the way that his girthy, rotund cockhead was skimming against what felt like your lungs. 

But oh, you weren’t the only one with your sanity dancing away from you with every plunging jackhammer. Ino looked so ruined - his pretty eyes doeing down till they were almost closed, drizzles upon drizzles of drool flooding out and slicking down his mouth, hanging pathetically open when he’s realizing-

Shit, did he say that out loud?

Oh, well. 

“And so wh-what?” Ino’s huffing out - meant to be much more smug than the pouty whine it actually came out as. Lower lip wobbling out in a watery way, “Wanna fill ya u-up until yer overspilling, sweetness- until I can’t hahah- fit again.”

He’s making such a sappy mess down there as if already fulfilling those promises. One clammily prespired hand latching around your throat to crane your neck into a tender kiss. 

“Wanna fuck a b-baby into ya- ngh- fuck ya until they know I did it-” He’s snarling - alabaster canines beared in a giggle. “Till they s-see you all ah- round and glowing and see me me me me- that coworker’s gonna know that I-I did that. That I fucked you s-so full.” 

Heavy thighs planting flat onto the cushiony mattress, and from the woozy corner of your eye you’re spotting a few bedcoils spring brokenly upwards. “Gonna gimme that, aren’tcha?” He’s breathing. Begging. Eyes fuzzy with a heavy clingfilm of utter loving that he was bestowing upon you with every pap! pap! pap! “Make me a dad, mama?”

Shrilling out hoarsely, “Yes- yes yes yes- I- fuck! M’close, Taku…m’gonna cum-”

Ah, just as you do - Ino plants a gliding thwack! against your g-spot so hard that it makes your eyes criss-cross with utter pleasure. Tumbling into your orgasm headfirst and dragging your dear Ino with it, too. 

Each peaked crevice of your high being followed by the wettest slap of his lathering cum into your most tenderized spots, fucking his seed into you so viciously that you feel bloated. Eyes drooping fatiguely, your nails dragging red, red patterns down his rigorously flexing back. 

It was heaven. 

You can’t think of anything but the slow puddle of viscous seed dribbling from between your slippery slit, nothing but how full you felt. Barely even noticing the creaking protests of the bedframe that was suspiciously sagging from one end.

Broken. 

And when Ino’s blinking his vision back - letting his mouth drool at the sloppy slosh of his ribbony sap clinging around him like a second skin - the only thing he can utter is a low, “S-so…I don’t think we’ve ngh- made our son just yet.”

♡ GOJO SATORU - 11.01 inches

“Aw c’mooon, my girl. Too big- s’too big, riiight?” Fuck- it was. And Gojo already knew with every cocky snicker that wafted over the back of your neck like an oven. He’s plumping his lips down your spine in a sleazy kiss. “Jus’ admit it n’ I might play…nice.”

As if. 

The strongest would never play nice when he had you like this.

When he had his fat, strawberry pink tip French kissing your gluey walls so open. Bumping up against your precious insides to indent every ridge and curvaceous vein against your overstuffed pussy - so staggeringly full. But he still wasn’t done. Barely. 

So ridiculously long and pretty - a size to match up that mean ego of his. Eleven inches? He didn’t even have to try to drive you insane. 

Gojo was flushed the most candied palettes of pink and red, all the way up to his thickened base. Slender fingers curling dexterously around the white tufted hilt to slowly empty out thick drags of buttery pre just past your throbbing g-spot. “Unless ya want-” Inching ever-so-sinfully closer. “-more?”

It was just a little tease - really, it was. Something to make your cute pout jut out, and your gooey insides clench.

But what Gojo didn’t expect was for thick, viscous droplets of saliva to splatter from between your lips at the sheer mind-numbing stretch. Babbling out into the spit-lathered mess of a pillow. “I- I want- ngh- Toru…”

“Yes yes, your dear Toru is hah- here.” And shit, he can’t help but saddle a strong forearm around your neck to hoist your lolling head upwards in a rude headlock. Making such a mess of glimmering dribble seep into the bulging bicep around your neck. You’re feeling the sappy drag of his long tongue down those puddled splatters of spittle, “Talk to me…tell me…complain about how big I am- I know you want to.”

You’re gasping when he’s leaving a pretty stinging smack! against your treacly cunt, muscular thighs shuffling against your own like a second skin. “I want…”

Every garbling syllable of your pretty voice making him twitch. Depraved. “Mhm—?”

“All of it- More.”

More?

CRASH!

Shit- maybe if you were in any better state of mind you’d have noticed how the flickering yellow lamp at your bedside shatters into a zillion pieces. And how Gojo was much the same. 

Slamming one dexterous free palm down onto the already-splintered headboard, you’re catching it crack underneath his vice-like clasp when Gojo hitches his breath and pushes. Wordless. Keening. Mean maw slacking parted with a low ah! ah! ah! at the sweltering hot pulse of his ever-hardening cock.

“S-Satoru did you just get-” bigger. It’s the word you can’t bring yourself to utter even if you wanted to - because Gojo’s swatting his doughy palm to entrap your whiny words. 

Hiding your watery sobs when his engorged dick ravines past the adhesive-like grip of your slick-flooded entrance to perk up even harder. 

Rasping, “Shhhh sh sh- Another word outta you n’ m’gonna cum.” Entire herculean body hitching - shuddering - to pin you to the velvety sheets like he was practically melting into you. You’re sandwiched into the sweaty glissade of his rugged washboard abs. Jolting at the miniscule lightnings of blue that bolt from his lazily lidded eyes, “Tell me how badly ya want the hngh- biiiig stretch, sweetheart.”

So embarrassing, “I-I want the…biiig stretch, Satoru.”

He’s humming with utter delight, “Louder- more.”

“Please.” Legs kicking in impatience, “I want it- w-want your hck! biiig stretch, Toru. Want it so bad-”

“Then, b-brace yourself…heh.”

Something’s cracking - breaking - only hours and hours later do you realize that it’s your poor mahogany bedframe underneath Gojo’s utter strength. 

Knuckles whitening when one sickly sweet rut has his toned abs careening into your mounds of flesh. And that tight little bout of resistance makes him stutter out a hiss, teeth clenching. “Christ, s’fuckin’ tight- n-need more.”

You words had done such a number on him. 

And Gojo wanted more - needed it. More more more-

With a sopping pap! Gojo’s sludging his hefty length out from your elastic hole, purposefully peaking his inflated veins against those treasure troves of your tender spots. Emanating out such a sinful squelch! of wiry slick-filled slurps the moment his globular crownhead is popping out of your gooey cunt. 

“L-look downwards, my girl-” he’s mumbling, tongue slurring those pesky little whines into his words. And oh, Gojo himself can’t bear to spy his ravenous gaze down below because of that dangerous little high building up at his tight, nudging balls. Can’t bear to do anything but let his sapphire gaze droop half shut. 

Tumbling your head down, “Toru what do you- oh!”

Gojo was so fucking needy. That mouthwateringly sculptured arm around your neck taking its second favorite position to warp around his sweltering hot cock and squeeze. 

You can only watch when he’s beading out wispy little ropes of precum that gloss your pussy lips a creamy white. Connecting delicate little ropes of your sweet, sweet juices to his bawling cockhead.

It was soiling his hand ivory, his wrist, his cloudy happy trail - he was being so messy. 

“Yeah- see this? Take a loooong hah- hard look, sweetheart. Yer gonna take this entire c-cock, m’kay–?” Gojo’s nuzzling his sweat-glimmered cheek down your down, stray strands of white sticking to your skin. Pumping his fist harder - harder. He’s scooping up a syrupy few dredges of sap to poke into your awe-struck mouth, “Gonna take i-it all. No matter how big- mhm?”

You’re whining when his intimidating length nestles between your thighs and pulses, the very brim of his curved tip swiping a sweltering hot drag of pre about half-way down your tummy. The size difference looked so sinful.

And you’re barely nodding - barely whimpering out a polite yes, please - before your mind shatters with the feeling of being split-apart. With every hidden nook and cranny caverning your sloppy pussy being stretched to the max.

“Yeah- yeah yeah c’mon-” Gojo’s begging. Pearly white teeth digging into his pulpy lower lip when his blushing shaft fringes down your clingy walls. “Go inside- fit- please- need ta give m-my girl everythin’.”

Needed - not wanted. 

Gojo doesn’t even have to try for his left-leaning curve to locate your most coveted spots, spurting out waterfalling little geysers of slick from between your thighs with every gulping inch.

“Oh- oh mmpf!” You’re mewling when his furious divot mashes into your nearby g-spot. Easily. Too easily that you’re half-wondering whether he’s using his Six Eyes. “It’s s-shoo deep.”

You’re being jostled in a sultry dance back and forth when Gojo’s planting rummaging pound after pound just to fit inside. The slamming smack! smack! smack! of his muscular thighs imprinting against the backs of yours fucking out each and every coherent thought out of your mind. 

And with absolutely no hesitation, he’s skimming numerous buzzing fingertips from one hand over to toy around your clit and pinch. Barely even realizing the startling spark of jujutsu that makes you yelp-

“Toru- wh-what did we say about…” Shrilling shrieks withering away on your tongue when- what were you complaining about again? Gojo’s incredible inches sheath their cozy way into your gummy cunt - fully. “O-oh.”

Oh was right. 

Because he had finally bottomed-out. Finally. Gasping at the sudden thud! of those ladder-like abs smooching the pretty curve of your ass. The bouncing recoil of his swollen cockhead against your pulpy cervix. Gojo can’t help but run his hands over your jiggling flesh to make sure - to register that this was real. 

Having your slobbery pussy wrapped around every needy inch of him? This must be a dream.

He’s struggling to catch his breath, gulps sounding high. Thumbing apart your sodden pussyflaps, Gojo’s rich baritone hitches adorably. “You- yer really m-milkin’ my entire fuckin’ cock…” 

Bleary eyes snapping open and veering pathetically cross-eyed, Gojo’s snowy brows scrunch achingly together when both stumbling hands latch onto your waist and pounces a harsh thrust. Thickened, hefty balls swatting your clit heavily. Once. Twice. 

And the third - barely even a swirling gyration of his slicked-up cock drilling into the spongy flesh of your cervix before he cums. Cums and cums so hard that it feels like copious orgasms upon orgasms piling all into one.

Feeling like he was bursting - just like the wreckage of generators across all twenty-three special wards in Tokyo this very second. Electricity flickering, Gojo’s eyes glowing, and you two don’t even notice the way the bed crashes! down onto the carpeted floors as if it had been hovering a slight inch.

“W-wait tha’s cheating-” he’s puffing out furiously, but he can’t stop. Luscious ounces of seed gumdropping out from his divot to laminate your poor cervix - no doubt battered and bruised at this point. A fat thumb of his caps your leaky slit with the voluminous dredges of splattering cum gushing haplessly out of you. “This is s’pposed to s-stay inside, sweetheart.”

It was too much - you were overfilled to the very brim of your glistening pussy folds. 

But Gojo didn’t sound upset - not in the slightest.

No, in fact, he was smiling. 

Cerulean pupils molding practically heart-eyed, a burning blush washes over those handsome cheeks and all the way down to his still-twitching, still-hard cock- “Sooooo…marry me?”

♡ HIGURUMA HIROMI - 8.89 inches

“S’for your own good, angel.”

“B-but, Hiromi–” Oh, you were already winning - and you knew it - you’re feeling that perky little dab of syrupy pre that butters up your insides. Just the mere sound of your voice enough to make Higuruma twitch, “I want you now.”

To make him jolt, to make him sigh. 

Long, dextrous fingers of his tightening around that vice-like little restraint of his tie shackled around your neck - just the scratchy dig of that velvety fabric into your tender flesh makes you lightheaded. 

“I already told ya.” Higuruma’s sighing, sleepy eyes peaking up at where your trembly figure was riding the fucking soul out of him. Or, at least, was supposed to. “Don’t want ya hah- hurtin’ yerself the first time ya take me, don’t want my girl’s pussy sore.”

But what you were aching for right now was him. 

Bucking your hips in a stubborn little up and down that makes his thin lips curl, canines bared. Feral. “Fine- slutty angel.”

And you barely have the time to process his words - to process the stinging sensation of his formal office tie constricting around your throat. Before Higuruma’s dragging you down with a thorough flick of his wrist, leveraging the merciless tightrope of his tie to feed your needy cunt inch by fucking inch. 

He’s not stopping when you gasp, not even when big, globular bouts of tears lather your lashes dripping wet. Only pulling you to him like some glorified sex toy- 

“H-Hiromi-” your clammy palms clasp around his pale, bulging biceps to squeeze. Spine arching at the way his staggering size was opening you so deliciously.

“Mhmmm, m’here m’here. Biiig stretch, isn’t it?” Bouncing those bulky, muscular hips of his with years upon years of practice in battle. And right now you were on the receiving end of his ruthlessness, your pussy lips being smeared agape at the hefty cylindrical shaft being bullied into you. “Easy there, girl. Easy. You can take m-my ngh- big cock.”

And Higuruma barely even had to try to get you all shattered on his cock like this was. Because his cock? The absolute prize of your wettest dreams. 

He was so thick and long, nearing nine inches that bumped his throbbing walls in a lewd little massage down your precious treasure trove of sweet spots. That left-leaning angle of his curvature was so droolworthy, meshing a sodden French kiss easily against the bullseye of your g-spot.

But what had you spellbound - what had you so dizzy - right now wasn’t just the stretch. No, it was that tiny, orbing little piercing studded right underneath Higuruma’s deeply indented slit. 

“Hey, doin’ ah- good, angel?” The chilling patch of his metal stud wrenching out the cutest little whimpers from your heated mouth, falling further and further slack with every pretty peck. Every tiny swab of his length being overstuffed into you. “Only an inch more- juuust an i-inch more n’ I want ngh- you to milk it for me.”

“M-me?” You’re pointing at yourself, as if there was anyone else here in this heady bedroom.

“Tha’s right-” Blinking away the clingy film of lust surrounding your eyes, you’re finally noticing the air of something instinctually primal in your dear Higuruma’s ravenous gaze. So at odds with the gentle kiss placed onto your prespired forehead. “While I get some hah- work done, angel.”

Your hips tense when he’s reaching out to grab the phone that had been buzzing on the bedside drawer for quite a while now. Only to get jostled into motion once more with a soft swat! planted onto your jiggling ass. 

Turning the flashing screen to emblazon your vision with the name, Shiu Kong (Work) 

Oh?

Oh.

At your filthy nod, Higuruma’s puffing out a shuddered bout of laughter. Before sliding one fat thumb across the screen and answering, “Hello? Shiu?” Head tilting to the side, another manhandling haul of Higuruma’s massive palm keeps you riding him. “Yeah, I can heh- talk right now.”

“S-so mean–” you’re mumbling, thoroughly not expecting for him to hear and punish another smack! against your ass. 

You couldn’t hear the response - you didn’t even realize that the audio could even hear you before he’s babbling on. 

“The meeting- Oh, that? Ah, jus’ my lovely wife.” Gasping, because Higuruma hadn’t proposed…yet. And the way he was sidling your gummy cunt with hefty, vicious pound after pound to lose himself - to melt into your unsteady arms - made you think he just might. Soon. “She’s uh…strugglin’ with somethin’ ya see.”

Fuck- he knew exactly how to make you work. 

But you knew exactly how to work. 

One hand splaying out between the sweaty valley of Higuruma’s plush chest, you’re eyeing with satisfaction as his dark brows raise. Squeezing that overpriced fabric wrapped around his thick fingers to muffled your leaking whimpers - to choke-

Only for his sharp jaw to fall parted, breath hitching when you jerk your fatigued thighs and ride. Deeper. Sloppier. Further and further until with a heaving shudder your ass smacks against his with a ringing pap!

Loud. 

Undeniable. 

His hefty breeder balls colliding into the jiggling curve of your ass, Higuruma’s massive cock embedding a few perfectly rounded bruises into the back of your pulpy cervix. Streaking a lazy line drawn by his bulbed piercing across each and every sweeping fissure inside you. Once. Twice. 

Again and again-

“A-ah, what?” He’s bumbling absent-mindedly into the speaker, and you’ve never seen him sound so shaky before. Deep baritone cracking into a few whimpering cracks towards the end when one of his thumbs swipe your puffed-up pussylips to take a long look at that heavenly sight. “Oh…oh yeah. My wife- sh-she got it…finally.”

And it’s only when you’re drawing out the most whipped splatters of slicked pre, when you’re steadying your precarious hands onto his sculptured biceps and slamming a sloppy cadence. Humming, “Y-yeah. Real cute, isn’t she?”

Only when Higuruma looks like he’s on the very verge of ending the call that you’re musing how Shiu must know already.

That blasphemous question on the very tip of your tongue before Higuruma’s attractive eyes widen, chuckling out at words exchanged over the phone that you couldn’t make out. Yet. 

“Oh?” Yeah, Shiu totally knew. Dark eyes boring right into your heart-eyed depths, and when you nod he’s cracking a smile. Pussydrunk. “Mhm, sure, we can videocall.”

A/N. HIGURUMA NATION HOW ARE WE FEELING???

Plagiarism not authorized.

[sanguineterrain]

holiday spirit | jason todd

Summary: Stuck at a shitty office party for your shitty job on Christmas Eve Eve, you’re at your wit’s end. The last thing you expect is to play vigilante for a night with the Red Hood.

Pairing: Jason Todd x fem!reader 

Word count: 7.2k

Warnings/tags: panic attacks, reader has anxiety, creepy coworkers, office party shenanigans, canon-typical violence, jason being both a menace and a sweetheart, attempts at humor, fake relationship, silliness!

the divider

You’re grateful for a reason to escape. Someone announces that the lights on the obnoxious eleven-foot Christmas tree are burned out and you’re already on the elevator, volunteering to find spare lights. 

You hate these office parties. They’re just a way to play politics, show off fiancés, and reaffirm cliques. You wanted to skip it all together. But Mr. Emerson, your boss, had insisted that attending tonight’s party was mandatory.

Alma had told you about a hundred times to skip tonight, but Alma’s worked here since the Reagan administration and has too much pull to be fired. You, conversely, have been here eight months, and if you get fired, your next job is going to be as a henchman for a B-list Gotham villain. 

Being painfully ordinary and anxious is a toxic mix. Your doctor still thinks all your worrying is because of your menstrual cycle. He doesn’t believe in work-related stress.

So anyway. You’re just trying to get through tonight. And find some tree lights that work. 

You unlock the spare office where all the holiday junk is stored and turn on the light. 

The motherfucking Red Hood looks at you, one leg dangling outside of the window and one leg inside the office. He unclicks his harness. 

"Oh my God,” you say, hand frozen on the light switch.

Red Hood pulls his leg in from the window and steps into the office. He puts the harness in a duffel bag and roughly zips it, then tosses it unceremoniously onto the floor. 

"Oh my God.”

He glances at you, helmet eyes glowing. "No God here, just me.”

"Oh my God," you say again, near hysterics. "Oh my God, Red Hood."

"Always nice to meet a fan," he says irritably, brushing snow off of his jacket, flashing his holsters. Oh, fuck. That's a lot of guns.

"What, um—" You close your eyes, lick your lips, try to find your sanity. "To what do I—why—are you gonna kill me?”

"The fuck? You think I'd sneak into an office and kill someone in cold blood? What kinda operation you think I'm running?"

Your mouth opens and closes in horror. "Wh–I... I don't—I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Hood."

"Please, Mr. Hood was my father."

He laughs. You taste bile in your throat. 

Hood sobers. "Damn. Tough crowd. Look, sorry to freak you out, but I got shit to do. If you'll just point me to Hershel Emerson's office, I'll be on my merry way."

"That's m-my boss. Are you gonna kill him?" You can’t handle murder tonight. You’ll have a breakdown for sure. 

"Literally, what did I just say?" Hood throws his hands up. "Not one minute ago. I'm not killing anyone!"

"Yet?" you ask weakly, mind inundated with too many mob movies to watch your manners. You know what the Red Hood is all about. Everyone does. 

"No. I'm not killing Emerson. But he is a bad dude, so I gotta take care of business. Actually, I should kill him. He deserves it."

You squeak in horror. He raises a hand.

"But I'm not!" he says gruffly. "Respectfully, get a grip. You live in Gotham."

You swallow. "What're you gonna do to my boss if not kill him?"

Hood shrugs. "Eh, maybe scare him a bit. Mostly get intel to take him down. He's currently sitting on five million dollars of stolen life savings from clients."

You blink. "What?"

"Yup. What I really wanna know is which of his employees are in on it. He didn't do this alone."

Hood takes out a small roll-up pouch of what looks like lockpicking tools. You release your sweaty death grip on the doorknob, causing it to squeak. Hood doesn't look up.

five million dollars is ringing in your head. That happened here. Where you work. Your boss is even scummier than you thought.

“Is that a lockpicking kit?” you ask.

“Yup. Good eye.”

"This seems... illegal.”

"Well, I won't lie to you, most of what I do is. You won't be implicated though.”

He looks at you. You flinch. Even with the lights on, the Red Hood is scary as shit. 

"Yeah..." he says, shaking his head. "You wouldn’t do well in prison. I can tell."

Your chest hurts. "I don't think anyone does well in prison," you say, eyebrows scrunching. "Have... you been to prison?"

"Only to break out a friend. You ask a lot of questions."

"Sorry. Um, Mr. Red Hood—"

"Ah-ah. Call me Red. Or Hood. No Mister-ing."

"Okay.” You lick your lips, hoping he doesn't go back on his temporary no-kill policy. “Hood, do you think you could come later? After the Christmas party?”

He tilts his head at you. You keep talking. 

“Not that I don't admire what you're doing! Because I think taking down my boss for stealing money is great, eat the rich and all that, but, um, I came up here to get lights to replace the ones that burned out downstairs because that's a normal thing that happens and now you're here, at my job, and I'm freaking out. Oh God, oh my God—”

You grab the wall for stability, feeling like you've been rocking on a boat for hours. Sweat beads on your forehead. This time, you really do feel like you’ll throw up. Throwing up in front of the Red Hood would be humiliating. 

“Look, I got shit to do, okay? I'm sorry you're freaking out but your boss is gonna cash out in a few days and then I lose him and that five million. It's now or never."

You should've just stayed home and baked cookies. Fuck being social! This is what happens when you're social: you meet morally gray vigilantes who force you to be complicit with their crimes.

Your cheeks feel wet. Are you crying? Maybe it’s sweat. 

Hood points to the hallway. "Is there a camera outside?"

"Y-yeah.” Your voice is weak. “I think I’m having a heart attack. Can you call security on your way out?"

“Does your left arm hurt?”

“No, but—”

“Are your limbs stiffening?”

“No, but—”

“You’re not having a heart attack. Your speech is fine.”

Hood takes out a few more things from the duffel, then kicks it under a desk with his foot. You wheeze and grab onto the doorknob again. 

It’s quiet for a second. Then— 

“Shit. You're having a panic attack,” Hood says.

"Mm, probably," you say, hunched over like an armadillo. Fuck your stupid doctor. 

There's silence as you wheeze quietly. Then something small hits your head. You flinch and squeal.

"You don't need to throw things at me!" you say, beyond defeated, near tears.

"No, I wasn't—sorry. It's a Warhead. I have one when I'm feeling… not my best. They're s’posed to help occupy your other senses so the panic disappears."

You stare at the candy, confused and suspicious at once. "Is it spiked?"

"Again, what sorta operation do you think I'm running? It's not drugs. Look." Hood unwraps a Warhead and sticks it in his mouth underneath his helmet. You hear him suck on it. "Eesh, that's sour. Okay? No drugs."

So you take the candy from the floor, unwrap it, and pop it into your mouth. The sour taste immediately overwhelms you. It's like your brain resets. You pant through the sour.

"Ough," you say, face scrunching from the taste.

"Yeah, right? Life changing hack."

You suck on the candy desperately and close your eyes, trying to find your breath. 

“It’s okay,” Hood says, stilted and awkward. “Just, uh, focus on your breathing. Exhale longer than you inhale. Breathe through your nose.”

It takes another few minutes, but the feeling passes. Your chest lightens. It’s the quickest you’ve ever recovered from a panic attack. 

“I was just kidding about the prison thing,” Hood says. “You’re not gonna go to jail ‘cause of this, I promise.”

Yeah, but what if you lose your job?

You spit the Warhead into a trash can and smack your tongue a bit. “Are you sure you can’t come back tomorrow night?”

“No can do,” Hood says. “Your boss will be gone by then.”

“It's just that I'm really bad with keeping secrets and according to Google, that's how ulcers form and I really can't afford any sick days off, so—"

You yelp as the door suddenly swings open, hitting your shoulder. You spin around.

"Hey," Bill says, squinting at you. "Where have you been?”

"No!" you yell, and turn off the light. 

Bill stares at you, illuminated by the hallway light. “Uh…”

You clear your throat. "Ahem. I'm fine. It's just taking me a moment to sift through all these decorations. Please return to the party.”

You hate Bill. He’s a sleaze and doesn’t do any work. More than once, he’s trapped you by the water cooler in a conversation about his “smokin’” imaginary lawyer girlfriend.

“If you wanted me to come help you, you could've just said so," he says, reaching for the light, way too close. You don’t like his tone either.

"No!" you yell, blocking the light switch with your hands.

"What the hell? Why not?"

"Because—"

There's a creak from the back. You wince. 

Bill immediately whips his head toward the sound. "Is someone here? Hello?"

He reaches for the light. Again, you block him, swatting his hands away.

"Would you stop—is someone here?"

"My boyfriend!" you blurt.

Bill stops, looking at you. "Your boyfriend? You've never mentioned a boyfriend."

"Well, I have one and he's here."

"Okay. Why can't I turn on the light and see him?"

"Because he's... um..."

You spot the red Santa suit out of the corner of your eye. 

Oh, this is a terrible idea.

"He's changing! He's our Santa for the party. Surprise!" You make weak jazz hands.

Bill looks into the dark where you're pretty sure Hood is hiding. You hope, anyway. Otherwise Bill is going to tell everyone that you're making up boyfriends. "Really?"

"Yeah, really," comes Hood's unmodulated, deadpan reply, and you jump. "Don't turn on the light. I'm naked."

"Oh..." Bill looks queasy for a moment. "Uh—" He looks at you and suddenly grins. "Oh, I get it. You two were having fun before going to the party, huh? Didn't know you were such a wildcat."

"That’s disgusting,” you say. “I would never do that in the office.”

Bill wiggles his eyebrows. "Me-ow. Does the Santa thing turn you on?"

"I'm right here, Bill, and naked or not, I'll kick your ass," Hood says.

Bill pales and quickly backs out of the room. "Right. Sorry. Uh, carry on."

He closes the door. You push your back against it and exhale, heart racing.

"Bill is a shithead," Hood says. 

“How… do you know his name?”

“Employee background check,” Hood says mildly. 

"Oh… yeah, he's been written up a bunch of times for inappropriate behavior, but he's close with Emerson, so he never gets fired."

"Want me to kill him for you? Free of charge."

"What? No! Hood—"

"Oh, relax. I was kidding."

"Uh-huh." You turn on the light. Hood has his helmet on, and his voice is modulated again. "What're we gonna do?"

"Well, I'm gonna go make sure Hershel doesn’t fuck off to Bermuda. The lights you wanted are here, by the way."

Hood tosses you a box of multi-colored tree lights. Then he walks toward you. You plaster yourself across the door.

"Wait! You can't leave. I said that my boyfriend is going to be Santa. Bill will tell everyone. They’ll expect you.”

"I appreciate your quick thinking, but that's a hard pass,” Hood says.

"You can't leave now! Bill's gonna tell everyone I'm a liar and they'll think I was up to something worse in here, like snorting coke."

"I mean this gently: I think you should look into anti-anxiety meds. My brother swears by Xanax.”

“My doctor won’t prescribe it to me,” you say glumly. “He thinks my anxiety is made up.”

“Huh. Want me to kill him? I know a better doctor.”

"Well…” You hesitate, then shake your head. “No! No. Hood, please. They’re all gonna expect a Santa. And when I don’t show up with Santa, they’ll remember that I didn’t participate in White Elephant or any of that other office nonsense that I don’t want to waste my money on. I need this job!”

“They’re not gonna fire you for not doing White Elephant,” Hood says. 

“You don’t know them! It’s a popularity contest.”

But Hood is indeed disinterested in the fact that you'll be the office pariah. Probably because he’s never worked in an office. 

Instead, he ushers you aside without a struggle. Then he turns the doorknob.

"Wait! Wait, listen. If you dress as Santa, you'll have access to the party and offices. You won't have to sneak around. And people get really drunk at these. They'll talk. You can figure out who's helping Emerson steal money."

His hand pauses. He looks at you. You look back, wringing your hands.

"You're pretty crafty," he says. 

"...Thanks?”

Hood releases the doorknob. "Alright, fine. I'll do the Santa shtick.”

“You will?”

He tilts his head. “Should I not?”

“No! No, you should. It’ll be a good disguise.”

He hums. “Sure. But we're in this together now, got it? You blow my cover and we both go down."

"Y-yeah, got it."

Hood heaves a gusty sigh. "Next time, I'm sending Roy in to do this shit."

"Who's Roy?"

"Ah." He holds up a finger. "Too many questions."

He makes a beeline for the Santa costume and then looks at you expectantly.

"Yo. Boyfriend or not, you're not watching me change. Guard the door, Mrs. Claus."

"Oh, right. Sorry."

You turn off the light and go into the hall, shutting the door behind you. It's empty, luckily. You rap your fingers on the box of lights, leg jiggling. 

This is insane. You should just tell Hood you can't do this and let him figure out his own plan.

But then... this would make it easier to find Emerson's crime partner. And you're really sick of Bill being a jerk. You don’t want to be called a liar, or get iced out for the rest of your time here because you didn’t bring Santa. Maybe having Hood be your Santa-boyfriend would make people leave you alone. Which is a crazy reason to stick to this plan, but still. You're trying to find the bright side.

And all those people that Emerson stole from... surely, you have a responsibility to help get their money back and bring him to justice, don't you?

The door swings open. You turn around.

“You wear a mask under your helmet?” 

“As a precaution.” He sounds defensive. “Lots of people in my profession do it.” 

You doubt that. “Don’t you think it’ll be weird if Santa has a mask on?” 

He hesitates, evidently debating between protecting his identity and arousing suspicion.

“Fine.” He carefully peels off the mask and tucks it into his pocket. The surrounding skin is slightly pink from irritation. His nose and cheeks are dotted with freckles. 

And wow. The Red Hood has beautiful eyes. So vibrant and clear, like seafoam. And young! How old is he, anyway? He doesn’t look much older than you, if at all. 

His eyes are framed by thick, dark lashes, and it makes sense, Hood being a brunet.

“What?” he snaps, glaring.

“Nice eyes,” you blurt.

His brows furrow. You remember the guns.

“Um, anyway. Should we go?” you squeak out, backing away.

Hood huffs through the beard. It flutters. "We need to have some ground rules."

"Okay."

"First, you should know that I will shoot if there's a physical threat at this party. Two, you're gonna call me Todd at the party. Three, if you try to tell anyone that I'm Red Hood or that I'm taking down Emerson, I will make your life hell. And if you're his partner, you'd better tell me now or I'm gonna be a lot less jolly."

"I'm not!" you say. "I would never do that. And I won't tell anyone you're Red Hood."

"Good. Let's go. Keep your ears open for hints about Emerson's partner."

He takes off in long strides. You hurry to keep up. The Santa costume doesn't slow him down.

"So how did you find out that Emerson's stealing?" you ask.

"Got a tip. You really didn't know he was stealing?"

“I don’t have access to the finances. I work in user interface. Website design.”

"Yeah? That's pretty cool. I got a brother who's into that stuff," Hood says.

"The same one who takes Xanax?”

“Would you believe it?”

You try to picture Red Hood with a regular family. With a brother or a sister or a father. It's hard to imagine.

“How come you don’t take anti-anxiety medication?” you ask. 

“I have Pit Madness Syndrome, and it has a weird chemical reaction with that stuff.”

“Oh.” Subject change. Quickly! "Do you celebrate Christmas?" 

"Not really. I'm not a believer or celebrator of much. You can see what my plans are two days before Christmas."

"Your family doesn't celebrate?"

Hood just grunts, eyes suddenly stormy. You take the hint and stop talking.

The room where the party is isn't particularly special. It's big enough to fit about a hundred people. For all the money the company makes, you'd thought that they could afford to splurge a little and rent an actual hall. Now you know what the profits have been going toward. But the decorations are decently lavish.

"Oh, wait." Hood leans in to speak in your ear. Lightning shoots down your spine. "I don't know your name."

You give it. He repeats it, and you shiver, like your boyfriend just said your name.

"'Kay. Stay in this room. We don't know how much Emerson or his partner knows, but assume they’re willing to do anything to get away with the money."

You nod. “Got it.”

“Hey, it’s Santa!” Bill shouts from across the room. “He made it!”

You smile tightly. “As promised.”

A few people wave. Others cheer. 

“These people really like Christmas, huh?” Hood asks.

“You have no idea,” you say, hyperaware of his hand brushing your back.

“Don’t think I got your name, man,” Bill says as he approaches. He sticks a hand out. “Bill.”

“Todd,” Hood says, taking his hand and shaking. Bill winces at the handshake. You hide a smile.

“Ah, Todd. Right.” Bill looks at you, trying to subtly soothe his hand. “You’ve never mentioned him.”

You shrug. “Never came up.”

“I’m pretty private,” Hood says, putting an arm around your shoulders. “But we’re very much in love. Ain’t that right, baby?”

“Th-that’s right… honey,” you say, face going hot.

“So what do you do for work?” Bill asks. “My girlfriend’s a lawyer.”

You roll your eyes. Hood snorts.

“There’s no way you’re dating anyone. You look like you got dressed in the dark, Billy.”

You cough your laugh into your arm. Bill’s eye twitches.

“Enjoy the party,” he says icily. He glares at you, then stomps away.

“That was amazing, but I think Bill might retaliate,” you say. 

“Don’t worry ‘bout him,” Hood says. “I’ll take care of it.”

You look at him with big eyes. “Hood—”

“Not like that. Just… it’ll be handled. Okay?”

You nod. Maybe it’s insane, but you trust him. “Okay. Want some punch?”

Hood hums. “No alcohol. Thanks.”

You go to the punch bowl, a little relieved to escape Hood’s piercing ocean-eyed stare. He’s intense. Whoever dates him for real is in for a ride. 

Then again, you can’t imagine Hood meeting someone for coffee or dinner. You giggle at the image of him showing up with his guns and helmet. 

“Hey, IT.” A woman in a white sweater you’ve seen maybe once waves at you. “Cool idea, bringing a Santa.”

“Yeah, Emerson’s too cheap to,” the man next to her says. They laugh.

You smile. “Glad you like it.”

You serve yourself two cups of the alcohol-free punch. Then you turn. 

Your smile falls. Across the room is Hood and Tanya Donaldson, resident shit-stirrer. She’s trying to cozy up to him. You sigh and walk over, bracing yourself.

“Hey, baby,” Hood says, practically dragging you into his side. He takes a cup of punch. “Just met Tanya.”

You can guess exactly how he feels about that.

"Oh, is he your boyfriend?" Tanya asks, eyeing Hood like he's a slab of steak. “I had no idea!”

"Uh-huh," you say. "This is Todd."

She wiggles her fingers, grinning. “So how often do you go to the gym, Todd?” She rests a hand on Hood's arm. "I didn't know Santa was so big and broad."

Your gaze drifts to where you're pretty sure Hood has a gun strapped to his ankle, and the temptation does appear, you won't deny.

But you need this job and it's going to be really hard to explain why Santa's armed and dangerous, so you just grit your teeth. Tanya's the worst for this kind of behavior and she doesn't respect you, so bringing your hunky boyfriend is like dangling a bunch of carrots in her face. 

And it’s not like Todd is actually your boyfriend. 

"Are you flirting with me in front of my girlfriend?" Hood asks, prying her hand off of his arm.

"Flirting?" She claps a hand over her mouth, the movement slightly delayed from all the wine. "No, oh my God! I was just saying—"

"That's really pathetic," Hood says. "Don't do that."

He walks away and you follow, leaving a wobbly Tanya on her own. You smile to yourself.

"Thank you for that," you say.

Hood gives you a thumbs up. "I can plant evidence on her and get her fired if you want."

"No, I don't want to feel damned for eternity. Thanks anyway."

"You have a lot of assholes at your job," Hood says. "But you're not one. I admire that.”

You sigh. "They're not all bad. Alma is cool. She keeps me from quitting.”

"And where is she?"

"At home. She's a sixty-two year old accountant who doesn't care about these parties. Her hip aches when it's cold."

"Mm. Maybe you should follow her lead," Hood says.

"But then who would help you with your spycraft, Hood?"

He allows himself a tiny laugh at that. You wonder how often he laughs. If ever.

“Well, suffering Tanya wasn’t in vain. She said this whole party cost twenty grand.”

“So?”

He gestures grandly. “Does this look like it cost twenty grand to put this together?” 

It's true. The alcohol is the most expensive thing here. No food, except for some people that participated in the potluck, but you don't trust anybody's food here. The decorations are old. Not to mention the Red Hood as your Santa. Your boss might have spared a thousand for tonight. No more. 

“So where did all that money go?” you ask. 

Hood snaps his fingers. “Bingo.” 

“That is so shitty. I got a chocolate-covered pretzel as my Christmas bonus,” you say. 

“A bag of ‘em?” He shakes his head. “Pretty cheap.”

“Ha, no. No, I got one big pretzel. In a box. The box cost more than the pretzel, I think.”

His eyes widen. “Jesus. Even I give more than that to my guys.”

“Got any openings?” you ask, half-joking. 

Hood snorts. “Don't think you'd like what we do. Why d’you stay?” 

You shrug. “Nowhere else to go. I have to eat somehow.” 

“Crappy boss, crappy coworkers, no Christmas bonus. Hell, I feel sorry for ya.”

The Red Hood feels sorry for you. Perhaps you've reached a new low. 

He drinks the punch and coughs. “Ahem, wow. Did you make the punch?”

“No, some people mixed it here.”

“Oh, then I'll be honest. Tastes like a flavor that's not found in nature.” He throws his cup away. You trust him and set your still-full cup on a table.

“I won't even mention the potluck,” you say. 

“Yeesh. Can't eat at everyone's house.” 

“That's what I say!” 

He winks at you. You look away, flustered. 

The crazy thing is, you could get used to this. Well, not specifically Red Hood, but having a boyfriend to bring to these functions, who’ll warn you against gross punch and defend you against Tanya. 

And Hood is surprisingly good at this. If you forget the past hour, you can almost pretend that this is just another office party that you happen to be spending with your new boyfriend. 

"Hey, look! It's Santa! Dude, check me out with Santa!"

One of the finance guys who's very drunk—you want to say that his name is Matt—bounds up to you and Hood. Hood tenses, reaching for his hip (gun!) and you touch his elbow, reminding him to relax. He drops his arm. 

Matt reeks of alcohol, the front of his shirt stained with bourbon. He laughs, forehead shiny with sweat.

"Santaaa, hey, Saint Nick, take a pic with me, man!"

Matt throws his arms around Hood. Hood does not like that and shoves him off accordingly. But Matt doesn't seem to notice and holds up his phone, camera facing front. Hood slaps the phone out of his hand.

"No pictures," he says.

You wince. The guy stares and blinks, taking three to five business days to process what just happened.

"What the fuck, man? That was my phone!"

"Sorry. I'm drunk." Hood sighs like he's physically in pain, then leans back and makes drinking motions with his fingers. "Fuckin' wasted! Did you try those rum shots? Lit, dude!"

The guy cheers up, forgetting all about the phone. "Oh, yeah, for sure! I'm gonna go get one right now! Thanks, Santa!"

"You do that!" Hood says cheerily.

As soon as the guy leaves, Hood returns to his resting scary face.

"Wow," you say.

"I know. I threw up in my mouth a little."

You laugh. Hood grins. Then it fades.

"Damn it. We're getting no closer to finding Emerson's partner. I should just interrogate Emerson until he tells me."

Interrogate makes you feel woozy. You're pretty sure you know what Hood's idea of an interrogation is.

"Wait! We just need to lure them out. If they think their money might be in jeopardy, they'll sneak out of the party to go check on it, right?" you ask.

"Potentially, yes. But how do we lure 'em?"

"There's an alert if someone withdraws more than ten thousand dollars from the company. But I don't have access to the accounts," you say.

Hood smiles slowly. "You don't need it. Remember I mentioned my computer whiz brother?"

"Yeah…” You grimace. “This sounds illegal again.”

"Hell yeah it is. He owes me a favor too. Lemme call him."

You two go off to the side while Hood dials.

"Yeah?" comes a voice on the other end. He doesn’t sound at all like Hood, more like a one percenter from the Diamond District. This is Hood’s brother?

"Aliases only. I need you to withdraw fifty grand from Emerson Corp,” Hood says. 

"Why?”

“‘Cause you owe me a favor. Just do it.”

“Zombie breath.”

“Shortass,” Hood says, voice taking on a distinct older brother tone. 

“You’re such an asshole,” the voice says. He yawns. “B’s wondering if you’re coming tomorrow.”

“I’d rather die again,” Hood says. “And you can tell him I said that.”

“The broody emo bullshit is getting old, dude,” the voice says.

You giggle. Hood looks at you sharply. You press your lips together, properly chastened. Sorry, you mouth.

"Who's that?" the voice asks.

"No one," Hood says. "Did you do it?"

"Chill out. I'm getting past their firewall. So who is that?”

“It’s the TV,” Hood says.

“No, it’s not. That was a lady's laugh, IRL. And you wouldn’t lie if it was someone we know…”

“Mind your damn—”

“I’m helping him with a case,” you blurt. 

Hood throws his hand up, glaring at you. It’s silent on the other end of the phone for a solid ten seconds. Then…

“Holy shit,” Hood’s brother says. “You do have a girlfriend. Wait. Hold on. This is wild. You don’t even have a social security number.”

“I do not have a girlfriend!” Hood snaps, drawing the attention of some coworkers. You nudge him. He exhales through his nose.

“I don’t have a girlfriend, you little fucker,” he says, quieter. “She’s telling the truth.”

“Can I ask your girlfriend a question? Respectfully, what were you thinking? You can do so much b—”

“Text me when it’s done,” Hood growls and hangs up.

You look at each other for a moment. 

“You didn't hear any of that,” Hood says. “Got it?”

“Got it.” 

“Good. Let's see who gets scared. He should do it right about…” 

His phone beeps. You look around the room. 

Soon, your culprit reveals himself. Matt!

Holy shit. 

"He didn't want a picture," Hood says slowly. "He was frisking me! Motherfucker."

"But isn't he drunk?" you ask.

"No." Hood sighs in disgust. "How did I miss that? Br—someone I know does that all the time, spilling alcohol on himself so he smells like he's been drinking. God. Oldest trick in the book!"

"Do you think he knows you're the Red Hood?"

"No. But he might suspect something. Let's go.” 

You follow Matt out of the party. He's walking fast. Yeah. Definitely your guy. 

Down the hallway, Matt turns around and makes direct eye contact with you. You panic. 

“Hood!” you whisper. 

“I know,” he says. “Follow my lead.” 

Loudly, he laughs and puts an arm around your waist. “C’mon, baby, no one’ll know.”

And then you're being herded into a janitor’s closet. 

You stumble in, confused and reeling from how easily Hood plays the affectionate boyfriend role. He follows you in, shuts the door, and pulls the chain dangling from the ceiling. The single light bulb turns on. 

You take care to not knock over any cleaning supplies. You don't see the mop on the floor, however, and you trip backwards on the handle. 

Hood's reaction time is impeccable. He jerks forward to catch you, tugging you back on your feet with his hands on your arms. 

“Y’alright?” he asks. 

“Uh-huh,” you say, mildly mortified. “Thanks.”

He lets go. You shift on your feet. 

“How long are we gonna stay here?” you ask. 

Hood checks his phone. “Well, he should've moved on by now. Let's—”

The doorknob jiggles. You look at Hood in fear. His expression is similar. 

“Pretend!” you whisper, and that's all he needs to understand and move. 

You're expecting your arms around Hood, maybe exaggeratedly feeling him up. You are not expecting Hood to hoist you up by the backs of your thighs and press you against the wall. You squeal, arms shooting out to hold onto his neck. Hood's beard ends up in your mouth and you spit it out. 

The door swings open, revealing a very tipsy couple. 

“Oops!” the woman says, grinning. “Sorry. Carry on.”

The guy gives a thumbs-up. “True love.”

You smile awkwardly. Something is pressing into your hip.

“True love,” Hood deadpans. “Rock on.”

As soon as the door closes, you're squirming. 

“What is that?” you hiss. 

“My gun! Oh my God, it's my gun,” Hood says, quickly setting you down. “It's not…”

He trails off and backs away. You stand there, processing what just happened. 

“That wasn’t—”

“I didn’t—”

You both stop. Hood adjusts his beard. 

“You're really strong,” you say, wringing your hands. 

Hood nods. “Sorry about the, uh…”

“Yeah, let's just not talk about this.”

“Yup. Find Matt?” 

“Absolutely.” 

You open the door and peek out. The hallway is empty. Glory be.

“All clear,” you say, and Hood is on your heels as you sneak out. 

“Any ideas on where he'd go?” Hood asks. 

“Matt works in a cubicle like the rest of us. Emerson’s office is on the twelfth floor.” 

“Fine. We'll hit Emerson's office first. More privacy, and maybe they'll both be there. Two birds.”

“Emerson's office is protected by a password lock. He changes it every night,” you say, scurrying to keep up with Hood. 

“That's fine. I got a key right here,” he says, patting his holster.

“Wait! If the lock is tampered with, it sets off an alarm and security will come. You can't shoot it, Hood.”

He stops and sighs. “Why is everything so goddamn complicated? Alright, new plan. I'm gonna get my stuff from where we were and I'll break in the old-fashioned way.” 

Fifteen Minutes Later.

“This seems really unsafe!” you say, watching Hood dangle outside a three story window on a wire. He's attached to a grappling hook but still. Still! 

“Eh, I died once. Didn't stick. Hold the hook.” 

“I am!” As if you'd do anything but. You don't want the Red Hood to become Red Goo. 

Chilly December wind makes your eyes water and your nose cold. Still, you hold on. 

“Almost there!” he says. 

“Hey! What're you doing?” 

You whirl around and close your eyes due to the flashlight shining at them. Even though the lights are on. 

An elderly security guard glares at you. It's a good thing you're not an actual criminal… though after tonight, you're not so sure. 

“Um.” You try to hold onto the hook while hiding it behind your back. “Bird watching?”

The guard turns off the flashlight and tucks it into his belt. He slowly walks to you. 

“If you're doing something illegal, Miss, you're in big trouble.”

Well, this is fantastic. Of course it would be you that gets caught. 

The guard is getting closer. Your grip is sweaty. He peers over your shoulder. You let go of the hook, praying to every spirit out there that Hood is as good as everyone says he is. 

The guard looks around and scratches his head. You shrug, heart in your throat. 

“See?” you say. “Bird watching.”

He frowns at you. “I've got my eye on you.”

“And I commend you for that.” 

“Are you sassing me?” 

Are you? You might be. You've been spending too much time with Hood. 

Hood! You turn and look out the window. You don't see any red goo below, but it's also cold and foggy. Shit. You hurry to the elevators. 

“Okay, happy holidays, bye!”

The elevator doors open. You press twelve and close the door before the guard can consider getting on with you and shooting you a hairy eyeball all the way down. 

You hurry out and run down to Emerson's office. The door has been left ajar, which is good, right?

Bang!

You throw yourself against the wall. Shit. Maybe not. 

Ugh, you told Hood no shooting! Son of a bitch. 

“We're doing this tonight!” That's Emerson's voice. “I don't care if I have to shoot my way out.” 

Shoot? Oh no.

You carefully peek through the crack. Hood is standing with his hands behind his head. His beard has blood in it. Emerson is in front of him, gun to his head. 

Hood catches your eye. He gives you the tiniest head shake. You swallow. 

You can't just leave him there. 

Okay. Think. Emerson's back is to you. You can't see Matt, but you figure he's far enough away to not immediately shoot you. Hopefully. 

Anyway, what's your other option? The feisty relic upstairs? You can't risk any civilians getting hurt. 

Technically you're also a civilian but not tonight. Tonight you might as well be Batman. 

You slowly pull the door open further. You sneak in, then hide behind the secretary's desk.

“Is it done?” Emerson snaps.

That's when you see Matt in the corner on a laptop. 

“It takes time,” Matt says, obviously stressed too. 

“Well, hurry up!” Emerson looks at Hood. “Then we'll dispose of Santa here.”

Hood shrugs. “You can certainly try. Many have. ‘M still here.”

“Lots of bravado for a man in a costume,” Emerson sneers. “What are you, police?”

Hood groans. “As fucking if! I'm not a cop.” 

He hums. “Perhaps not. Otherwise this place would be crawling with them already. But you're alone.”

“How d'you know I'm alone?” Hood asks. 

You're glad he's calm because you're feeling the beginnings of another panic attack. But you can't panic, not now. The adrenaline pulsing through you is the only thing keeping you from going catatonic. 

You have no weapon, no plan. How the hell are you supposed to help Hood?

“You're bluffing,” Emerson says. 

“He has a girlfriend,” Matt says. “Some IT girl. She might come looking for him.”

“Then we'll take care of her too.”

Matt looks uncomfortable but he doesn't say anything. Hood is still cool as a cucumber. 

“She won't look for me. We had a fight. I forgot to buy the candy she likes.”

Candy? Why would—oh!

On the secretary's desk is a glass bowl filled with mini candy canes. You wrap your hands around it. 

“She knows my favorite,” Hood says, locking eyes with you.

You throw the bowl with all your might. Emerson is too slow—Hood grabs the bowl one-handed and swings it, knocking the gun from Emerson's hand. The candy explodes into pieces. Hood swings again, this time into Emerson's head. The bowl cracks. Emerson crumples to the floor. 

“Are you o—”

Bang! Bang! Bang!

In a blink, Hood wraps one arm around your waist and yanks you to the floor, covering your body. You curl into him on instinct. 

“I got you, I got you,” he says, patting your shoulder. “You okay?”

You nod, words not coming right now. You squeeze his hand. Hood seems to understand and he scoots you both behind Emerson’s desk. Then he loads his gun and cocks it.

“Stay here,” he says, then fires six shots. 

“Goddamnit!” Matt yells across the room. “This wasn't the plan! You're not supposed to be here!”  

Hood laughs, which is absolutely terrifying. “Don't talk to me about ruined plans, buddy. I've been waiting all night for an excuse to shoot somebody. Please make my night.” 

Matt fires four more shots. 

“Fuck you, cop!” 

“What the fuck? Fuck you more! I'm not a fucking cop!”

“Maybe it's the way you stand,” you say, teeth chattering from anxiety. 

Hood squeezes your shoulder comfortingly. “I stand like a cop? Gross. I gotta work on that.” 

“You're somebody!” Matt yells. “You're not just some guy, Todd, don't lie to me. You and that chick from IT are in cahoots.”

You huff. “He knows your name but not mine?”

“I’d take it as a compliment.”

Matt fires again. Hood tucks you behind him. 

“He won’t kill anybody,” he says, with way too much confidence, in your opinion. 

“Oh, is that why he's peacefully shooting at us?”

“He's scared, sure. But he can’t kill. Trust me, I know. Hey, Matt!” 

“What?”

Hood stands up. Your eyes bug out of your head. 

“Hood!” you hiss. “Hood!”

He ignores you, of course. 

“You won’t hurt anyone,” Hood says. He starts walking toward Matt. “You're not a killer, Matt.”

And all this time you thought Hood was sort of sane. Nope. 

“I will shoot you!” Matt warns. 

“Aw. You wouldn't shoot Santy Claus, would you?” 

Matt pulls the trigger. You gasp. It clicks. The magazine is empty. 

Hood closes the distance between them and grabs the gun, then elbows Matt in the face. Matt sprawls onto the floor. 

“Yeah, I don't risk my life on human emotion,” Hood says, loud enough so you can hear. “People can be so unpredictable. I will take a chance on a gun that only fires seven rounds, though. For a guy in finance, you're not very good with numbers, Matty.” 

You sigh in relief, slumping against the desk. After tonight, you're retiring. 

“Y'okay over there?” Hood asks. 

“Yeah.”

It's quiet for a bit. Then Hood returns and offers you a hand to help you stand. You do so on shaky limbs. 

He's got a cut on his eyebrow and a bruise on his cheek. You frown. 

“I'm sorry I let go of the hook. I thought—”

“You let go of the hook?”

You stop. “Um. No?” 

Hood squints at you. “Choosing to forgive you for that.” 

“I knew you were inside the office!”

“Yeah, sure.” 

“I'm not the only one taking risks,” you say. “Matt still fired at you.”

“Eh.” Hood shrugs. “He’s a crap shot. And I counted the rounds. I maintain my point. Factually, he could not shoot me.”

“You could've told me the gun was empty,” you say. 

“I wanted you to think I was cool and brave.” 

You laugh. “I already think that.”

Hood looks at you for a moment, like he’s trying to see right down into your soul. Intense. You cross your arms.

“So, um, ready to ditch this party?” you ask. 

“With pleasure.”

“What about them?” you ask, pointing to Matt.

“I have backup arriving soon. Let's get your coat.” 

You get your things while Hood changes back into his usual garb. He meets you at the back exit, the one that leads to an alleyway, Santa suit gone. The party's winding down and most are getting into their cars. You're grateful no one stops to ask where you disappeared to. 

There's police outside, but they're not here for Emerson. It's Bill that's being questioned by Commissioner Gordon. You stop short at the sight. 

“Hood… what did you do?” 

“Hm? Oh! There might have been some discrepancies in Bill's finances and he might have committed fraud to pay off his gambling debts. All circumstantial, though.”

“Please don't tell me you framed my coworker because he's a jerk,” you say. 

“No, but I'm not above that, for the record. I recognized Bill from when I was casing the Iceberg Lounge. That's where he racked up all that debt.”

You nod slowly. “That's how you knew his name.”

“Yup. He was a nobody, so I didn't bother with him. Had I known he was such a menace at work, well…”

You grin. “It's okay. I appreciate it now.” 

Hood nods. The silence is awkward for a few seconds. 

“So—”

“You don't have to keep working here,” he says. “You can leave if you wanna.”

“Hood…”

He puts up a hand. “Hear me out. I have a contact at Wayne Enterprises. I can get you an interview. Hell, I can get you the job.”

“And what would I owe you?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing. Think of it as a thank you for tonight. You didn't have to help me but you did.”

You open and close your mouth. “I don't… I don't know what to say.”

“Don't gotta say a thing,” Hood says quietly. “If anyone deserves a new year, it's you.”

“Oh.” Your throat feels tight suddenly. “Oh, Hood, that's really—that's nice of you.”

“It's been known to happen. Don't spread it around though.”

“But I don't want the job without interviewing!” you say. “I want to get it on my own.”

Hood nods. “Deal.”

You want to hug him but that seems like too much, even with all you’ve done tonight. So you take out a candy cane instead.

“I salvaged one from the bowl,” you say. “Merry Christmas, Hood.”

He takes it, tucking it into his pocket. “Merry Christmas. Need a ride?”

You shake your head. “I'm fine. See you around?”

“Maybe, maybe not. Stay safe, alright?”

“Oh, I will. Will you?”

He laughs. “No promises.” 

Then you blink and he's gone. You shove your hands into your coat pockets. 

In each pocket, there's a handful of Warheads. You smile.

[oceantornadoo]

ch4 the wrong john | masterlist | next

john price x f!reader, reader is johnny’s twin

—

The universe hates you, obviously.

Why else would it send you this charming and attractive man in the form of your brother’s boss? Not to mention your hookup with him was so meaningless he didn’t even deign to write you a note. Even a “had a nice time :)” would have been more acceptable than an empty bed and an aching throb in both your cunt and your chest. Since clearly it was just another hookup to him, you decide to treat John with the same dignity he treated you with.

“Nice to meet you both!” You nod at the clock above John’s head, refusing to meet his eyes, then turn to Gaz and give him a warm smile. “And I’m sorry you have to spend so much time with my brother. At least you get paid, it’s a better lot than mine.” The crew laughs, breaking the inevitable awkward tension of bringing a civilian family member to their place of work. Johnny shoves your shoulder and you gladly take the opportunity to turn your back on John.

“Well, Cap’s got a meeting soon, but we can show ye ‘round while we wait.” You don’t bother saying goodbye to John, something that Gaz and Ghost note with a look between them. Johnny’s too focused on you to notice, shouting his goodbyes over his shoulder to Price before tucking you against him once again. Your traitorous heart pounds out of your chest as you take stock of the situation. Not only is John your brother’s captain, he’s practically a father figure. Johnny’s told you how the captain took a chance on him, saved his life countless times, and you’re putting these facts together like pieces of the puzzle that is John Price. A military captain who treats his men like sons while treating a stranger like his wife, just to leave the next day. He’s clearly unstable, a person you should stay away from, because you have the slightest inkling he could ruin your life. He might already have.

Ghost leaves to finish training, Johnny on his heels to “wish him goodbye,” as if they won’t see each other in an hour. It’s disgusting how in love your brother is, how besotted Ghost is, and you hate yourself for wanting what they have so badly. It’s clear they’re meant for each other, tethered together by blood and sacrifice and the life that can grow after death. Want bubbles inside you like a pot about to explode, and you would do well to keep the lid on.

“So,” Gaz shakes you out of your reverie, cunning eyes tracking your gaze to Ghost and Johnny. “Approve of the Lieutenant for your brother? ‘m dyin’ to know.” You nod slightly, cheeks flushing in the face of Gaz’s full attention. Closer up, he’s the type of handsome you would never pursue, too pretty for his own good. In his voice and behind his eyes, though, there’s something lurking underneath. You can tell he wields his handsomeness as a weapon and you can’t even fault him for it.

“I think it’s more if Ghost approves of me, to be honest. They already seem like they’d hang the moon for each other.” Gaz nods thoughtfully, leading you outside to a path that outlines the base, giving you a glimpse of soldiers training outside. “An’ why’s that? Soap talks about you all the time like you’re a sort of angel. Not sayin’ you aren’t, of course.” He sends you a wink and you giggle at both that and the nickname Soap. Johnny told you about it, of course, but it’s a bit silly to hear it next to the name Ghost or even Gaz. He’s never told you what Soap meant, and you never asked in case it was something you didn’t want to hear.

“I think Johnny loves me, it’s just, I remind him of the parts of our family that don’t. And with Ghost, and all of you, he’s got a real family that doesn’t judge him. It’s like introducing two friend groups when you’re not sure if they’ll like each other. We represent different parts of him, but I’m old and Ghost is new, so the lines seem blurry to me.” Gaz lets you talk more, his demeanor so welcoming with the internal challenges you’re facing. He even tells you to call him Kyle, warm and soft. The two of you walk around base, minutes turning into an hour. Finally, a soldier runs up to the two of you, telling you you’re needed in Price’s office. You bite your lip nervously, not seeing how Kyle tracks your response. He almost freezes, years of training preventing him from doing so, but he’s still thrown by how nervous you seem to go back.

“Well, I’m a little sorry for talking your ear off. But I see why Johnny likes you, Kyle. You’re a good friend.” You smile at him, almost faltering when you see his stony expression. It changes in a split second, like a cloud moving from the sun, and he grins and tucks you under his shoulder, just like Johnny. “It’s no problem, angel. It’s one of my specialities. Let’s get you to lunch, ‘m starvin’.”

Johnny greets you like a long lost twin when you get back, asking for details about who you saw and where you went. He’s like that all the way to lunch, insisting on driving just the two of you to “the only decent pub in this town, really, hen.” It’s nice to spend time with him and you squeeze his forearm to say so, basking in the light of his smile. You almost forget about the John situation until you see him get out of the car the other men took, his fatigues fitting him criminally well. In fact, he’s even better looking in the daylight, blue eyes catching the sun while he stretches, muscles rippling under his clothes. You stare so long that Johnny yells at you to get moving, but he’s too focused on Ghost to turn back to see who you’re looking at. 

You find Kyle quickly, tucking your arm into the crook of his elbow and letting him guide you into the pub, sparing a singular backwards glance to John. He’s staring at you, again, but he’s too far back for you to tell anything of the subtext behind his eyes. Is he mad you’re Johnny’s sister? He has no right, obviously. Maybe he thinks you stalked him or something and this is all some elaborate scheme. Deciding you don’t care, you focus on lunch and the growling in your stomach from all the calories you burnt with John last night. He’s really the cause of all your current plights.

The pub only has booths. Johnny insists on you being in the middle, guest of honor and all that, so you’re stuck in the middle with Johnny on your left and Kyle on your right. Ghost is next to Johnny, of course, leaving John next to Kyle, a perfect angle for him to stare at you while you answer Johnny’s interrogation. Johnny asks you questions like you haven’t talked every week since you last saw each other. Like only a brother could be, he’s unhinged. 

“So yer still single, m'eudail?”

“An’ yer livin’ alone? Steaming Jesus, hen.”

“Not even a cat? Bloody hell.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you see John’s shoulders bunching closer with every invasive question your brother asks. He’s being an ass, they both are, and you need a break. “Before the food comes, I’m going to use the toilet. Scooch, Johnny.” As you leave, you hear Ghost muttering to Johnny, telling him to calm down. At least someone’s on your side.

You do your business, taking a deep breath to calm yourself before going back out and facing the cavalry. As you open the door, you see the universe is not on your side.

“We need to talk.” He’s standing there, posture military straight. You hate him.

“John…” You try to push the bathroom door open to make your escape. He prides himself on your mission being unsuccessful, an arm preventing you from leaving. He doesn’t like to use his strength to intimidate women, but in this case, you’re too slippery for him to let you go politely.

“Sweetheart…”

“Oh, don’t sweetheart me, John. Or should I say, Captain?”

He yanks the door handle from your grip, spinning and locking you both inside in one move. It’s a one room toilet and there’s nowhere to go with John taking up space like it’s his right. “We need to talk.” He says it in what you imagine is his Captain Voice, firm and unmoving. Luckily for you, you’re not on his payroll. “Actually, we don’t. We had a good time, the night ended and you left, and now we happen to have a mutual connection. It’s whatever.” You try to shrug nonchalantly, fumbling for the door, but John notes how you stumbled over the words “you left.” His hands find your waist, pinning you to the door with a gentleness remnant of last night.

“You didn’t call. Or text. ‘m confused why y’r upset, pet, when the ball’s in y’r court.” His hands on your waist are breaking down your mental walls and you hate how easily you let down your guard. His actions don’t match his words, though, and that’s something you can’t deny. “How would I have called? I don’t have your number.” His brows knit together in confusion, thumbs rubbing circles over your shirt. “I left a note.” Oh. Oh.

“There was no note.”

“Left it on the pillow, sweetheart.”

“There was nothing on the pillow!”

“Must’ve moved while you slept. Should’ve known by how much ya kicked me last night.”

“I don’t kick! God, you’re annoying and-“ 

He cuts you off with a kiss, pressing you further into the door. John slots a muscled thigh between your legs, smiling against your skin when you let out a soft moan. “‘m sorry ‘m a right idiot, sweetheart. Let me make it up to you.” You shake your head, pushing him away but keeping your hands on his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his uniform. “What would you have done if I never called? And if- if I didn’t show up on base?” He smiles at you indulgently, like you’re a little girl instead of a woman. He knows he’s won, can tell by how firm your grip is on his chest. “Would’ve gone back t’ the bar tonight. An’ if you weren’t there, would’ve gone to y’r hotel room.” You frown at him. “How would you have gotten up the elevator? You need a key card.” He pecks your forehead like he’s known you a year, rather than a day. “I have my ways, sweetheart. I am a captain, as you know.” 

That kills the mood.

You push him away, finally letting go, before stepping in front of the mirror to readjust your clothes and hair. He stands behind you and it’s intoxicating to imagine you two like this, fixing your clothes after a hookup or a domestic night in. Something about John Price feels permanent, likes he’s meant to be in your life for more than one night. But then, the image of your brother pops into your brain. Your memory of how much he talks about John, talks about the group in general. How they’re like family, like brothers, how Price treats him like a son. You can’t ruin this for him.

“We can’t do this, John. If it goes wrong, it’ll break Johnny’s heart. I can’t do that to him.” Hands wrap around your waist, slotting you against him. You fit perfectly and it’s heart wrenching. “An’ what about my heart? An’ yours?” You shake your head, pushing off of him and unlocking the door. “It’s early enough that we can just- just stop. Johnny’s more important. I am sorry, truly.” You walk away without a second glance, like John’s not even there.

And just like that, John Price knows he’s met his match. His future wife, if he has anything to say about it. John Price doesn’t lose.

-

notes: johnny says bloody hell because simon says bloody hell. i don’t make the rules sorry.

also someone complained on my ao3 that this wasn’t slow burn and…i never said it was???? they literally meet as a hookup bffr. anyways hope yall enjoy! angst is coming soon hehe

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[bloodyinkandquill]

phighting x reader christmas special

sup im in Honduras right now, so ill work on this intermittently, it’ll be… something i need to decide im thinking what each phighter’s christmas activities are and what they get you, yeah that’ll work, it’ll be in menu order btw

Sword:

He spends Christmas with his dad, and you’re invited! Venomshank has been alive a while but having a son to celebrate a holiday with is a new exciting experience to him, they have a lot of traditions surrounding it. Including having dinner together the night before, then Venomshank has to put out the presents at EXACTLY 11:59 because at EXACTLY midnight Sword come barreling towards the tree, it’s funny to witness, and definitely stems from when Sword was a kid. During the day itself after presents him and his dad cook an amazing breakfast together, they would probably ask what you want because they both cook each other their favorites and want to include you since you’re part of the family now.

I think Sword would definitely go with something super personalized, something that reminded him of you in some way. Or alternatively he’d also get you something rather cheesy and overly couple-y like matching sweaters that say something super over the top. He’s very sweet and loving about it and views Christmas as a family thing and you’re part of his family now!

Skateboard:

I imagine in Playground Christmas is more of a friends thing then family thing, so Skateboard hosts a big party with his friends and you! There is a lot of food and more drinks, it’s not like a crazy high energy party buts it’s also not a dinner party, he does his best to stay by your side since you’re his lover but he keeps getting distracted and running off to a friend calling him over or doing something crazy. But he reminds you how much he loves you and that he’s glad to be spending Christmas with you!

For gifts I think he’d get you something silly and fun, that makes you laugh and groan lightheartedly. I also think he’d get you your own skateboard or even maybe roller skates/blades so you can go skating around with him, he’s bashful about it saying it was just something random and you don’t have to or whatever- then one of his friends would put a mistletoe above you both with an eye roll and he’d blush but it’s a sweet and tender kiss.

Biograft:

Bro has the dictionary definition of Christmas and that’s it, so you have to teach him a lot about it. It starts to understand, not fully but he’s getting there. Its favorite part is all the lights, he thinks they’re really pretty. Since it doesn’t exactly have its own Christmas traditions he just participates in whatever you do. It might be tad awkward if it’s his first time meeting people who don’t understand it’s sentient so you might have to explain it a couple times. He mostly sits in the corner observing, or following you around like a fucking since it doesn’t understand just yet but you do so it’s the logical conclusion.

He gets you a gift late, it doesn’t realize he was supposed to get you something but then when it does he figures the logical conclusion would be to get it after Christmas because it would be cheaper anyways. I think he’d get you some sort of technology, maybe a new computer or handheld gaming console that it specifically modified to be linked to him so it can chat with you on it even if he isn’t nearby, and would make sure it’s your favorite colors.

Katana:

He’s sort of, withdrawn from Christmas, if it was his choice he’d stay home and treat it as any other day but with cafe trio and you, his plans have been foiled. Cafe trio invite you both to their apartment to spend Christmas with them. If you’re tempted to say no just remember Slingshot owns a bakery and baked so many different Christmas pastries for the event. You and Katana stay together the whole time but it’s still nice, the food is delicious and it smells AMAZING in that apartment. Katana doesn’t have great memories of Christmas due to his past but he’s willing to make new ones with you.

I think he’d get you a really nice (rather expensive) china set. And his favorite rare teas to go with it. When I say really nice set, I mean REALLY nice, probably one of a kind. He insists you do not need to get him anything but won’t fight if you want to get him something, he thanks you really sweetly and after you leave cafe trios place gives you a super sweet kiss where he can comfortably lift up his mask.

Ban Hammer:

Similar to Sword he spends Christmas with his momma, and again you are invited to join them! Their Christmas is a lot more chaotic, full of rough housing and the servants very nervously cooking a LOT of food. They eat a lot on Christmas and play fight even more, but there’s a lot of laughter and love in the house so all is well. Even if Windforce isn’t as affectionate towards you she snickers and pushes you against her son, maybe a little too hard but he catches you and his eyes are shining as he looks at you. (Pet peeve of mine he ONLY wears his blindfold during phights to challenge himself, STOP GIVING IT HIM WHEN HE ISNT SUPPOSED TO BE WEARING IT.)

As a gift he gets you front row tickets to your favorite band, and takes you out to a REALLY nice dinner, I’m talking probably a three month wait list. He also jokes that his gift is ‘his presence’ you jokingly smack some sense into him as he chuckles. Whatever you get him if it’s something he can he displays on his desk in his office, if not he gets a really good photo of you two and put that on his desk instead. It’s really sweet and probably lit up with candles behind you under the stars.

Rocket:

Again he goes to his dad’s house for Christmas, however he doesn’t spend Christmas eve night there, you and him just head over there in the morning. Zuka isn’t a great cook, Rocket’s even worse, so you settle for some basic pancakes with maybe chocolate chips if you’re feeling fancy. Then they do gifts after breakfast, they never make a big deal about it, Zuka grew up a soldier so not much time for festivities and Rocket was a street kid, so also not much time for festivities. So they don’t do too much, just enough that it feels like a special nice day but it’s not over the top. They think of it as just a nice day to relax and spend together and with you now, Zuka approves of you since you make Rocket happy so he gets you a little something, probably just some bux honestly.

Rocket gets you a big ass plushie, I imagine he has a lot of his own so he gets you one he thinks you’ll like, of some animal you like but huge, perfectly shaped for cuddling. He’d also get you a custom candle, colored and scented to your favorites with some stupid name that’s some sort of inside joke between you two. He also gives you a handmade coupon for a kiss, it’s so cheesy and honestly embarrassing that it’s cute, he’s a dork but he’s your dork.

Slingshot:

As mentioned him and the siblings host a small get together at their apartment, you and Katana are invited, he doesn’t go so it’s just you four. He asks you to come over the day before to help, or at least offer emotional support, as he bakes a lot of stuff for the next day. Gingerbread and other holiday treats galore. He asks what your favorite cookies are, if he doesn’t already know, and bakes a batch of those as well. If you don’t have any baking skills you just sit on a part of unused counter and maybe occasionally stir something for him. If you can bake you divvy up the work 50/50 and get to it, it’s a mess of pass the flour and where’s the butter but it’s fun and sweet. You and him make sure Vinestaff and Shuriken don’t enter the kitchen to mess the pastries up or to steal batter or cooling cookies. The next day you two are beat and just enjoy sitting together on the couch eating your hard work and watching Shuriken and Vinestaff bicker as usual.

For a gift Slingshot makes you ready to bake dough in a tupperware of your favorite cookies so you can make them at home super easily whenever you want them. He also gets you some cat themed trinkets, he really likes cats, freaking cat boy. (/silly) Shuriken and Vinestaff also get you something but it’s smaller and just a peace offering since you’re dating their boss, even if they have more of a sibling relationship with him anyways.

Hyperlaser:

He doesn’t really do Christmas, it’s not that celebrated in Blackrock and his job keeps him really busy, but he still tries and makes a time for you, if not on, around Christmas to have a night together. You just enjoy a simple home cooked meal at him place, making it together as Princess walks around your feet meowing for a piece of food. Get that you sit down together on his couch, snuggle up with a blanket and watch some movie, probably some action movie most Christmas movies are far too cheesy for Hyperlaser’s tastes. After you eat you exchange presents and split a small little cheesecake he bought. It’s nothing big but it’s so distinctly him that it makes you happy anyways.

As for the aforementioned present he doesn’t do anything much, just something small but meaningful, some sort of personalized trinket of sorts. Like if you go drinking with him and Katana he gets you a small bottle of your favorite drink and maybe a small but nice cup. Again nothing big since he is rather indifferent when it comes to Christmas.

Shuriken:

Once again, the cafe trio Christmas party. This time you’re helping him cause chaos, trying to steal pastries when Slingshot isn’t looking or doing little gag pranks to Vinestaff. Can’t forget pranking each other! You arrive a little after noon once the siblings have finished with their cheesy family time, all the baked goods have been prepared already so Vinestaff is in the kitchen working on the actual dinner so it’s just you and Shuriken at first doing random stuff since Slingshot is tired and Vinestaff is busy. Though between the chaos you have some sweet moments, Shuriken can be gentle and loving when he tries to, and he tries on Christmas.

I think gift wise he’d give you an unlimited free pass to Thieves rest, Slingshot objects but it’s more for show, he knows you won’t abuse it and you make his sudo-brother happy so oh well. He also gets you a shirt that says like a cringiest cheesiest thing, like something a middle aged mom would wear or one of those fake funny ones like ‘Christian dads against cool math games’ or whatever. You laugh and bomp him on the head since it’s so stupid but sweet still.

Scythe:

The church makes something special about Christmas, it’s a big ass event that seeing as Scythe is a very high ranking person in the church she busted her ass of planning and bossing people around for it. So once Christmas finally comes around she glad to finally have more time with you since she spent so long away from you working late hours preparing for it. After she says her greetings to whoever she needs to she immediately pulls you away to the side to make out with you, specially a special spot she planned out and put a mistletoe at as an excuse, and maybe to push some underlings under it for some entertainment. She also drinks quite a bit but she’s a heavyweight so at most she gets a bit tipsy, she’s just glad to have some time to take the edge off and wind down more.

Gifting she gets you some bigger more expensive gifts, most were probably stolen or taken from her assignments. She gets you a really fancy bottle of wine, expensive jewelry, all that kind of stuff, as well as a promise to spend at least a week straight with you after New years since right after this party she has to plan the new year’s party too, oh well at least you know soon enough she’ll spend time with you and probably spoil you as an apology for how long she was busy and away from you.

Medkit:

As mentioned the church treats Christmas as a big event, which he’s not as busy as Scythe but he still has to contribute to the planning and whatever, especially if anyone gets hurt. He views it more as a chore if anything, it was never that big of a thing in Blackrock and now he has to pretend to want to be at some dumb big party. Assuming you are not also in the church he returns home rather late at night and flops down on your bed with a groan. You exchange presents in the morning and go out for a simple easy brunch together. He’s not big on celebrating it but if you want to do something he won’t complain.

He doesn’t get you anything big, probably something pertaining to a hobby you might have, it’s just a smaller thing but it’s still sweet, he thinks gifts are pointless since they can be given anytime why put so much emphasis of these ones? But he will thank you for whatever you get him.

Boombox:

As mentioned I imagine in Playground Christmas is more a friends get together holiday, so you attend Skateboard’s party he hosts. You two stick together but as the night goes on Boombox gets rowdier and louder, but you’re used to the louder and calmer sides of him. Before the party he doesn’t do anything special you just meet up in the evening and go to Skateboard’s place together, unless you want to do something but he’d prefer to do it the day after since he prefers to only do stuff half the day, or so. But he won’t fight if you want to do something together that morning.

He makes you a specialized mixtape of all your favorite songs and songs that remind him of you, and to go with it a small portable music player to listen to it, sure could it have been easier to do like a spotify playlist on your phone? Yeah, but where’s the fun in that! He also gets you your favorite candies and chocolates to go with it.

Subspace:

As I’ve said like 20 times Christmas isn’t that big of a thing in Blackrock, it’s not contributing anything so why waste time celebrating? So being the head engineer for the Blackrock government means he doesn’t really do much about Christmas. However he does invite you to his lab, something he rarely does, and shows you something he made you, after that you leave and wait for him to return home, you have some hot cocoa and go to bed.

The something he made you was a personalized small Biograft, about the size of a Chigraft, specially engineered and designed to assist you with everyday life and have a programmed personality he thought you’d like, it’s also painted to be your favorite color instead of orange, unless orange is your favorite color. He lets you name it and tells you all the intricate details of how he customized it, even if you don’t understand any of the words he’s saying.

Vinestaff:

Once again, you go to the Christmas get together at her, Shuriken and Slingshot are hosting, it’s just you four since Katana declined. When you first arrive you help her ‘give gifts’ to all her plants, which entails giving them specialized fertilizer and watching as she fawns over all of them. Then you help her in cooking dinner, it’s nothing too fancy just some traditional Thieves Den dishes and maybe one or two bonus holiday additions. She’s not amazing at cooking but she’s at least better than her brother, who’s trying to prank you two as you cook unfortunately. After dinner though you all relax and exchange gifts it’s a sweet moment the air filled with laughter as she snuggles up against you.

She gets you a starter kit to grow your favorite flowers, a special bag of soil, a cute pot, and the seeds obviously. You may have to wait until it’s the proper growing weather for the flowers but it’s still a super sweet and thoughtful gift. She also gets you a spa set, amazing creams and lotions, all in your favorite scent, not to mention a nice neck pillow specifically for a bath.

Coil:

Again, Christmas in Playground is a friend’s holiday, so you go to Skateboard’s apartment for the party he hosts that both you and Coil were invited to. You arrive some of the first and watch as Coil jokes around with Skateboard as he sets out the last of the snacks and drinks, poking fun at him in a friendly way. The party doesn’t have a ton of people but still it’s not a small thing either, so you have people to chat with whenever Coil runs off to joke around or grab snacks. You probably crash at Skateboard’s place for the night since they’re best friends and have that permission, you wake up the next morning with a headache and glitter on your face you don’t know where it came from. But it was still a fun night with your lover.

I think he’d get you, oh man Coil is tough, stuff he stole from Blackrock nobles, like maybe jewelry, items from traveling, or even a fancy ass bottle of alcohol. Or maybe a gag gift, something funny and jokey that leads you to start play fighting, I’m honestly not so sure about him my apologies.

alright and that’s a wrap! that was fun to write, i’m currently at dinner i’m not at home i’m on a cruise waiting on my steak, today we hit honduras tomorrow we hit belize! it’s been fun and i got some art i needed to get done for my best friend done, we did an art exchange for christmas on top of the pins of empires season one characters, we’re matching roseblings! i’ll hopefully have the venomshank request done and posted soon, im hoping tomorrow at the latest, have a merry christmas everyone and would you guys like me to do the same thing but for any other characters? if so send a comment with the character but if you want to be anon send it on my personal account @inkcoveredmoon !!

unfortunately i do not know much about chanukah so i will not be doing a special for it, im not christian but we celebrate the christian holidays in my household

[the-blind-assassin-12]

Ahhhhhhhh!!!!! I have been GRINNING and twirling my hair and giggling and kicking my feet for a full 24 hours now, and I truly don’t think that’s going to change any time soon because I just keep thinking about this story and this Dieter and just how PERFECT it all is! 🥹😭

Anyone who needs a fun, flirty, lovey-dovey pick me up, do yourself a HUGE favor and read this!!!!

You worked so many great details into these characters’ lives! You wrote YEARS worth of a (beautiful) relationship! You let Dieter (and Reader) be weird and silly together and I LOVE that! I seriously could not have asked for more, thank you from the depths of my soul for writing this!! (And for creating the moodboards!!! And adding in the gifs throughout!! GOSH! This was amazing and so much fun!!)

Gonna rattle off a bunch of things that I adored about this, probably out of order and definitely less than coherently because I’m still just 🥴🤪🥰 about it:

The way that they meet and just click! Dieter definitely strikes me as someone who has the capacity to fall hard and fast, and damn if I’m not the same way haha. I loved how easy things were between them. They literally made the perfect duet right from the start. (And the songs!!!!)

Kissing. Dieter. Under. THE MISTLETOE. I can die happy now. And he’s so fucking cute and flirty and kinda sorta smitten and I just 🥰 I love how in awe of Reader he is. (And I love how cool she is, too! An astronomer! Who writes fiction! And if I’m not mistaken, there was a little nod to some raunchy Ezra fic in there 😉)

Getting snowed in with him omg what a DREAM. What a DREAM! No but like I’ve literally had that dream and it was JUST like that.

I love how open and honest they are especially after Dieter makes things official. Being apart a lot is tough but they’re both just so steadfast and dedicated and in love and supportive and ughhhhhh!

The little (big) surprises for each other! The way they give each other experiences as gifts! THE BRACELET!!! Ahhhhh the bracelet and how meaningful it is to him! I could so clearly picture his upset face when it broke and then how happy he must’ve been when it was fixed again. 🥹🫶🏻

Oh! Dieter having the thought so early on about wanting to take reader to his vacation villa! That’s going to haunt me. Vacation Dieter is going to haunt me in the best way.

I could really and truly go on and on and on because every line had me smiling and each new paragraph had me saying “no way I get Valentine’s Day with him too? No way I get to walk the red carpet with him too?? No way I get to…” It’s the Christmas Fic Gift that just keeps giving and I feel so frickin lucky to be the recipient of such a great story that you clearly put a lot of thought and work and love into!! Thank you thank you thank you again, and I hope you’re having a great holiday! ❤️💚

Kiss Me Under The Mistletoe

A Dieter Bravo x F Reader romance by Artemiseamoon

Part of @pedrostories Secret Santa 2024. This is a gift for @the-blind-assassin-12 I was soooo excited to create this for you! I hope you enjoy it as much I do. 💜

Word count: 11k plus

Summary: While celebrating Christmas Eve in New York City, you enjoy the company of close friends and learn that dreams do come true when a certain brown eyed actor crosses your path. One encounter changes the events of your lives and marks Christmas as the most special time of year.

Reader: no physical descriptions given aside from being a woman. RC intended to be in late 30’s - 40’s and has a career. Dieter does give her a nickname. Feel free to read as RC or OC, your choice.

Warnings: mentions of (light not heavy handed) of drugs, recovery, sexual activity. Nothing graphic, no smut. Plus language, for cursing (if thats a warning?)

📚Read on A03⬅️

Christmas Eve, 2022

A festive spirit kissed the air as the city streets bustled with people coming and going. Locals on the move, tourists snapping photos, families on their way to relatives, and groups of friends headed to parties. 

You tightened your grip on the cake box, snowflakes melting against your skin as you hurried your walk, now just blocks away from your best friend's home. It's a scenic route; decorated storefronts, lawns, and windows adorned with trinkets and ornaments; lights strung along trees. 

As the snowfall increased, you pulled your hood over your head. In your pocket, your phone buzzed, then again, a second time. Not wanting to expose your hands, you decided to wait to answer. You wondered if it was an update about the weather. 

A blizzard warning was in effect for two days from now. You hoped to be back home and cozy by then, but by the look of things, you just might get stuck here for the duration. Not that it was a bad thing, you had friends here and were staying in your bestie's spare bedroom. 

Back inside the brownstone, you shook snow off your boots, set the box down on a bench and checked your phone. The wind kicked up outside, it's howl touching the doors before you. 

Parker: I hope people come! It’s coming down hard out there :(

Parker: You ok? Not stuck in a snowbank, right? And THANK YOU for volunteering. You're a life safer! Remind me to not attempt cake making again. 

Earlier, Parker tried their hand at baking. What came out of the over was - well - edible but not pretty. Parker's yearly Christmas party was a hit and each time they had a cake from their favorite bakery. This year, they got a bit crazy with the whole DIY thing and this happened. Once the cake emergency ensued, they found one place nearby with one cake left. You volunteered to pick it up.  

You: Tonight will be amazing; I have a good feeling. And yes, I returned safely. Be up in a sec.

.

An hour later the house was packed, on the lower-level people danced, ate, and lost themselves in conversation, both deep and light. Laughter could be heard in bursts over the music from the speakers. On the second level, a game room was set up with an area for crafts. People lingered in the halls, conversing and some dancing. The third floor was closed off as far as the party went. The brownstone was busting with life, the continuous snowfall outside didn’t detract from the jovial mood. 

“Karaoke!” Parker yelled into the room. They turned to you, “You know what this means. We need Stevie to start us off." 

“We must summon Stevie.” One of your friends said while handing you their velvet scarf.  

“Okay - I need to get in character.”

Scarf in hand, you excused yourself from the room. When you returned, you were in full character, wide-brimmed hat, extra necklaces, and a dark blanket wrapped around like a skirt. Your friends cheered as you took your place in the center of the room. Parker passed you the microphone and pressed play.

'Rock on, gold dust woman

Take your silver spoon, dig

Your grave'

As you perform, you do your famous Stevie Nicks impression, belting out the lyrics as you move across the room. You wouldn't say your voice was greatest, but you put on a damn good show. 

As the middle of the song neared, your eyes floated to the back of the room. A group of people crowded into the living room, filling in any empty spots. You were about to turn away when something told you to keep looking. At the very back of the group a man stood out, his head was lowered and all you could see was messy brown curls. As he lifted his head, everything slowed down and you missed a line.  

You'd know that face from anywhere! 

That hair

That nose

Those brown eyes

And when he smiled, you heart skipped a beat. You were either hallucinating, or Dieter Bravo had one hell of a lookalike! 

You continued on with the song, trying to convince yourself that once the performance was over, you'll realize this dude didn't look like Dieter at all. 

What would he be doing at a random house anyway?

By the song's end, your heart was in your throat. The man still looked a hell of a lot like Dieter, and now you were convinced you slipped into some kind of dream state. Handing the mic to the next person, you grabbed Parker by the hand and rushed to the kitchen. 

“Is that Dieter fucking Bravo in your house?” you asked while grabbing their shoulders. 

Parker shook their head, looking as surprised as you. "Unless all of us are having some mass hallucinations then um - yeah, I think- unless he has a twin brother." 

"He does not, he's an only child," you opened the door to take a peek, and catch a glimpse of some people looking up his photo and talking. You dip back into the kitchen. Getting antsy, you start walking around, your mind recalling the moment your eyes met across the room. "No, no that is him, the real him." 

You would know. You’ve studied and dreamed about that man more times than you’re willing to admit. You have an insane number of photos, videos, and gifs of him all saved in an album titled ‘Dieter my love’. The handsome, adorable, trash panda of a famous actor ruined your life- well, not ruined, but to say you were obsessed would be fair.

Well, not obsessed but- 

Okay, he took over your brain, your thoughts, your heart. 

Parker shrugged, “I don’t - did he just- wander in here?” 

Before either of you could muse further, Parker’s girlfriend entered the room. She was stuck doing the afternoon shift at the bar she worked at, and the evening person was late, hence her late arrival. 

“So, um - that's Dieter Bravo.” 

“And how is he here?” Parker asked. 

“This sounds crazy but - he stopped in the bar, ten minutes before I left. We got to talking and I kinda - invited him.” Jett replied. 

You moved closer, trying to digest her words. “You just casually met and invited Dieter Bravo to a party?”

“Yeah. I was already late, why not bring one hell of a gift for our favorite person!" She took your hand. 

While staring at her, you pinched yourself with your free hand. Yep, real, this was very real. Seconds later, you pulled her into a hug. Behind you, the door swung open. 

“Hi,” Dieter waved at the three of you. “Hope you don’t mind, crashing your party and all." he said to Parker. 

You assumed Jett told him who's who already. 

“As long as you have fun and don’t steal all the thunder.” Parker replied, then shared a glance with Jett. “We have to - get something.” They grabbed Jett's hand and left the kitchen. 

The door swung closed again, leaving you and Dieter alone. Not knowing what else to do, you froze. 

He's so - soft-looking. He was dressed comfortably, dark loose pants and a fuzzy sweater. He even appeared a bit tired, but in a hot cuddly kind of way. 

“And you must be Calliope herself,” he smiled. 

“Greek muse of song and poetry, nice -” you leaned against the counter behind you, mainly for balance as your legs turned to Jello. 

“I know you are," he said your name, " Jett gave me the quick rundown, the most important people at least.” 

A giddy feeling washed over you, your name on his lips echoing in your mind. “Glad I’m one of the important ones. So, you make this a habit, crashing house parties?"

“Sometimes,” he jested, “no - actually, Jett's really cool, and getting a drink alone was fucking depression so -" he moved to the snack stray, but kept his eyes mostly on you, “here I am.” 

“Hard to believe you were alone today, being so famous and all.” 

“I didn’t want anyone around -" he started to snack, “then, I changed my mind.” 

“Hence the drink?” 

He winked at you. With a plate of snacks, Dieter moved closer, mirroring your body language against the counter. 

A brief silence fell between you, and your mind was firing off in a million directions. All of a sudden, you lose the ability to conversate again. So, you just look at him as he looks at you, taking the moment in, letting yourself be star stuck. 

Done with the snacks, Dieter put the plate down then rolled up his sleeves, revealing his assorted bracelets. Your gaze lingered there; you loved his arms, and his hands. Your gaze dropped to his fingers, then his rings.  

When his eyes met yours again, you went with the first thing on your mind. 

“Are you in New York for work?” 

“No. I took the time off. I don’t like to work during the holidays - no Hollywood stuff.” 

You faced him directly, instead of just stealing side glances. “What's your ideal way to spend Christmas?” 

Dieter grinned at the question. “Sleeping in. Pancakes for breakfast…movie marathon, you know, the classics -” he ran his hand through his hair, “in pajamas all day.” 

"You already wear pajamas all the time." 

He laughed at your comment. "These are the outside pajamas - not the pajamas-pajamas." 

"Ah, got it." 

His next smile was sheepish as he glanced at the floor, looking suddenly vulnerable, “with someone - or alone.”

You frowned a little, all of you wanting to hug him. 

“Dieter, I hope you get your dream Christmas this year.”

“Yeah, we’ll see -" his tone wasn't so convincing. He stared off for a second, then looked at you. “What’s your perfect Christmas day?” 

Your heart was beating so fast now you could hear it drum in your ears. He was so present with you, you almost felt exposed, naked under his gaze-

“As cozy and warm as possible. My mind is on a lot, for work. So just unplugging and having a nice day, that’s good enough for me.” 

Dieter listened with a spark in his eyes. Just as he was about to ask a question, you gained some company. A group of three people you didn’t know well entered; one already had their phone out. 

“Could we get a picture? If you don’t want to - "

“I’m in the middle of a very interesting conversation,” he gestured to you. 

Your smile returned. He wasn’t necessarily rude about it, but he was clear. And they got the point as they left the kitchen. His attention was instantly on you again, his gaze full of interest as he studied you.

Is this what it feels like, to be a work of art in a museum, under appreciative eyes?

He started, “I hate this question, so - forgive me for asking but-” 

“Astronomer by day, writer by night” you replied. 

Depending on the person, you only replied ‘astronomer’, but if you liked the person, you didn’t mind revealing a little more about the writing part. Then there was the whole pen name thing as your non-work-related writing was on the saucier side. Constellations and planets by day. Sex pollen by night. 

Dieter dipped his head, keeping his eyes on you, “seriously?”  

“Seriously.”

He inched closer. “What do you write?” 

“A little of everything. Mainly fiction.”

“Anything published?” 

“One, last year I wrote this book, like a merge of my two words. It’s a retelling of the myths of the constellations. My second book, that's - coming along - it's a sci-fi thing.” 

Dieter’s eyes lit up. He placed a hand on your shoulder, your name on his lips. 

“Yeah?” You chuckled, not sure what to make of the way he was staring at you, all while trying to play it as cool as fucking possible because inside, you are anything but chill. 

“You are the coolest fucking person here - ever!” Dieter raved.

You chuckled, “stop. You're the Oscar-winning movie star. I’m just…me. A girl who was so obsessed with the stars she made a career out of it. Who likes to write spicy sci-fi too.” 

Dieter got a little closer, and as he moved his hand back to rest it on the counter, he almost knocked some things over. He quickly fixed them, then made eye contact. 

“Astronomer? Are you fucking kidding me? Do you know how smart you have to be for that?" He counted on his fingers, "Published author. Karaoke star and fucking gorgeous.” 

Your breath stilled, heart beating faster as he gushed about you! By some weird miracle you were holding your shit together while internally kicking and screaming. Here he was your celebrity crush - complimenting you.

"Thank you,” nervousness fluttered in your gut. You shook your head and laughed, “I’m not gonna lie. I’m a huge fan of yours and kinda freaking out right now.” 

Dieter smiled. 

Fuck, he thought.  You were making his heart race; he had those silly butterfly things talking to you - and he was nervous - nervous. He rarely got nervous. Knowing you both were trying to keep your cool was comforting. 

You revealed your shaking hands, which you were keeping buried in your pocket for a reason. “See? Not keeping it cool at all.” 

Dieter extended his arm, “check my pulse.” 

His heart rate was through the roof. This was unreal. He hummed softly at your touch, your fingers so soft against his skin. And when you moved your hand, he instantly missed the contact. 

“How about we calm our nerves, yeah? I heard there’s a game room upstairs,” Dieter suggested. 

“Follow me,” you pushed yourself forward and headed to the door.

The inner you was screaming even louder now. You didn't know if you'd freeze again or find your flow, but it was worth it to find out. Plus, even if it was a little selfish, you were glad to steal him away before he gets overloaded with picture requests. 

.

Half an hour later, you and Dieter remained in your cozy corner of the game room. Jenga was the current game of choice as you navigated all the interest he was drawing. You talked about music and art. You imagined meeting him before, but as great as your imagination is, anything you dreamed up didn't compare to this. 

After Cliff Beasts 6 in 2020, his reputation was a roller-coaster - dipping and rising - calming and amping up - which seemed to be the norm for him. By time the documentary came out earlier this year, he appeared to be in control again. 

"I had to get my shit together, " he shared with you, "clear my mind. Find my center. There was this great place Anika recommended." 

"Are you two still close?" You asked, carefully pulling a block from the tower. 

"She's so cool - we're good friends." 

You learned the romance was short lived, but they gained life-long friends out of it, and she was super supportive of his recovery journey. You remembered when he came back from the center, he looked great, refreshed and healthy. Sadly, it didn't stop the tabloids from talking shit and retelling his greatest 'party' hits. 

As you and Dieter talked, getting to know more about each other while topic hopping to random things, your excitement for what could happen tonight grew. You knew his reputation, and the risks. But a chance with your celebrity crush was something most people didn't get - and you weren't going to let this pass you by. 

Fifteen minutes later you were back to talking about music and live shows, while deep in a game of twister. Prior to the game, Parker and Jett lured most of the people away, almost giving you the room alone.  

“Want to do a song - or songs - with me?” Dieter asked from beneath you. 

“Hell yes - how about something from the 90s?" 

“Fuck yes! Pop? Alternative?” 

You tried to reach for the spinner, “why not both?"

“We should do a Christmas song too!”

“Sure. A fun one though! How about a super sexy Santa baby - oh fuck -” 

Your leg slipped from beneath you, causing you to crash into Dieter. Bot of you hit the ground and burst into laughter. 

“Have you ever heard the Eartha Kitt version?” you asked, rolling off of Dieter. 

He laid on his side, doe-eyed and smiling “Obviously. It’s one of the best.  Wait - Can we do Baby it’s cold outside too?”

"It’s a date. Plus, people can snap all those pictures they’ve been asking for.”

Dieter smiled as he took you in. “I don’t care about any of that, this- I like this.” 

.

After doing three fun and naughty songs with Dieter, your friends pulled you away to get the tea. Everything sounded crazy as it left your lips, but it was true, the vibes were vibing and hanging out with him felt so easy - so natural. 

Once you were done speaking with your friends, you found Dieter downstairs with a group around him. He seemed to be having a decent time, yet as soon as he saw you, he lit up and then made his way over to you. 

“We killed it up there.” He commented, then offered you the rest of his cake. 

“Don’t tempt me. I’ve already had one and a half."

"This is my second, I had to race someone to it." he said as he took another bite.

"To be fair, I was the one who went out to get it. Snow and all.” 

“You did! Look, this cake is divine, if this cake wasn’t here, I might have left.” 

You laughed, “and what about me?” 

“You or the cake? Oh, I’m choosing the cake.” 

“Wow,” you pretended to be offended then glanced out the window. Everything was covered in inches of snow. Before you can turn around, you feel Dieter over your shoulder. 

“Seriously though, if it's you or the cake, fuck that cake.” 

“Right answer."

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” 

Maybe, just maybe fairytales were real - even if for one night. You playfully tugged at his sweater while grinning, “careful, keep complimenting me like that and I'll have to kiss you under the mistletoe.” 

A playful smile touched his lips. “Yeah?” 

“Yeah,” you nod. 

Before you could take a full breath, Dieter was leading you through the crowded room, down the hallway, and to the side room turned photo op. You worked hard this morning getting this space just right, but never imagined you'd be in it with Dieter of all people. In the corner a couple was making out, in another people were using the portable photo booth station.

Dieter only stopped moving once you were under the mistletoe. 

His gaze fell to your lips before rising to your eyes, “I’ve been dying to kiss you all night." 

You gave a cheeky reply, “well, I’m right here,”

Dieter slid one arm around you, pulling you closer while brushing your chin with his fingers: his bedroom eyes further igniting the fire within you. 

“You really are wonderful, you know that?” said Dieter with a soft breath. 

Before you could respond, Dieter closed the space between you, pressing his lips to yours. His lips were soft against your own, and the tenderness with which he kissed you made your heart race. As the kiss deepened, you slid your fingers up the nape of his neck and into his hair. Dieter responded with a low moan against your lips.

“You taste as good as you look,” he moaned. 

“The feeling is mutual.” 

“Let's do more of that, a lot more.” 

This time you drew him in by his shoulders, initiating the second kiss. Easily you lose yourself in his embrace. His lips were sweet, like the cake he’d eaten minutes before, the same cake you walked five blocks in snow to get. How the fuck is this real, you thought. You would have never imagined while you held that cake for dear life that you'd be tasting it on Dieter's kiss. 

“Spend tonight with me?” Dieter asked as he drew in a breath.

You parted your lips to speak, nothing came out. The full shock of everything that just happened hitting you all at once. 

Dieter waited for your answer, hoping you’d say yes. Sex with you would be amazing, it would greatly improve what's been a depressing and lonely week in New York. You're the stuff of dreams, and so damn beautiful he might just pick up a brush and paint again.

All that talk about muses, yeah, he really understood it now. Just a couple of hours with you had his mind thinking up all kinds of things. He imagined taking you to this vacation villa, a soft breeze coming in off the water as you posed for him; Dieter capturing your essence with each stroke of the brush against canvas. And when he wasn't painting, you two could spend long afternoons and lazy mornings in bed. 

His mind went back to sex, it would be spectacular, he knew it. He was also content to just hang out with you all night until you’ve both fallen asleep. You're that fucking cool and he just wanted more time, no matter how you spent it. He knew his reputation, and as you still hadn’t answered, he feared that was why. 

“Dieter I-” 

Dieter leaned in, hanging on your every word. 

“I’d love that.” 

“Yes!” Dieter did a fist pump, then wrapped his arms around you again. “I can’t promise we’ll get a cab at this point - we might have to walk.” 

You trailed his jawline with your nails, “I’ve got my snow boots.” 

“Wow,” he held you at a distance to take you in, “we’re leaving. Now.” With your hand in his, Dieter made his way to the door. 

“I need my coat and my boots silly,” you laughed, “give me five minutes. “

.

About 30 minutes later, and with no cabs in sight, you made it to his hotel room. By car ride, he was just 15 minutes away, but on foot, plus all the snow, it was twice as long. You made the best of it along the way, stopping to make snowmen and angels, even having a brief snowball fight. 

Inside, the room was warm and toasty. Dieter made you a cup of tea as he called the desk to extend his stay. Instead of checking out in the morning, he gave it one more day. The snow continued to fall dramatically outside.

As he finished up the call, you contemplated taking a hot shower, then changing. You did take an overnight bag for tonight, and the dry jammies were calling your name. Deciding a shower would help with the chill in your bones, you suggested the idea to Dieter, he was happy to oblige. Once you were out, you made yourself comfortable as he did the same. 

A half-hour later, you were cuddled up on the couch, under blankets as you talked about everything and nothing. Dieter got up briefly then returned with something in his hand, 

“KitKat?” 

You smiled; he really loved these things as much as you heard. 

“I have a whole bunch in the fridge. Have as many as you want, but not the last one.” 

“I promise to not eat your last kit, Kat Dieter,”

“There’s something about it chilled; it's gotta be chilled,” he leaned back with a sigh, then rolled to his side. “Can I tell you something?” 

“Sure,” you said, snapping one of the bars off. 

“I was having a really shitty day, week...month,” he shrugged, “I thought I wanted to be alone for the holiday, then realized I didn't. Then I went on Tinder and that shit was depressing." 

“I bet you had a line around the block of people waiting for the honor.” 

“Since I cleaned up - there are certain crowds I don't hang around anymore, it's bad for my aura and shit. I keep it simple now - pot, wine, the occasional drink and I love shrooms too much to give them up. Don't ever ask me to give those up. The harder stuff, though, I haven't touched in months.” 

“That's a big deal, Dieter, congratulations.” 

He nuzzled his head against the pillow while gazing at you. “Have I told you how beautiful you are.” 

“Yes, and you can keep on if you want,” 

“I will, all night, and tomorrow too.”

You sat up, covering your face with your hands before lowering them again.  “Dieter, this is nuts. You're my biggest crush ever and here we are!"

“Fuck, I know right, I can’t believe it either,” he pressed his forehead to yours while looking into your eyes, “I think we met before, in another universe.” 

“Or - another life.” 

“Or both.” 

“Okay, both. I like that.” you ran your hands down his chest with a soft hum, “you are as cuddly as I imagined.” 

“Lucky for you I need more cuddles, come here!” Dieter drew you back into his arms. 

. 

'Blizzard warning in effect for New York State Tri-Area - all flights have been temporarily suspended due to inclement weather, please contact your air carrier for further details - travel on the roads is not advised -'  

“Breakfast is here,” Dieter called out from the hall. 

You were parked in front of the TV, watching the news feed. The blizzard did not wait for two days from now as first reported, it hit late last night, around 3 am, You wouldn’t have known it, you and Dieter were too busy exploring each other's bodies until you were exhausted, then fell asleep cuddling; he was your little spoon. 

When you woke up around ten am, secure in his arms, his body pressed against yours and his excitement evident, you turned to kiss him, leading to a lazy sensual morning in bed. Now it was around noon, and you were both so hungry you were getting a little grumpy, so Dieter ordered room service. You also took the time to answer the many texts from your concerned friends to confirm that you were indeed fine, in a land of bliss actually and that was all you could say for now. 

The aromas of cinnamon, spice, coffee, and freshly baked goods met your nose, making your stomach grumble. You clicked off the TV and joined him in the kitchen. 

“I’ve extended my stay, two more days but I have to leave by Thursday morning, a work thing.” he pulled out a chair for you to sit on, then kissed you on the lips, “Merry Christmas.” 

In the back of your mind, you remind yourself to change your flight as well. From the looks of it outside, there is no way you are flying out tomorrow. 

 You dug something out of your pocket, “yesterday morning, I gave all my friends their presents and I had an extra one. At first, I thought it was a miscount but now - “you passed him the pouch, smiling proudly. "“Merry Christmas, Dieter."

Dieter moved his chair closer to yours then opened it up revealing a hemp bracelet with round stone beads. 

“It's a grounding and protection mix, that's shungite, red jasper, and smoky quartz...some tourmaline too.” 

“What have I done to deserve you,” he gushed, then quickly slipped the bracelet on his wrist. "Thank you.” 

“My pleasure.” you watched him a moment longer, then decided to eat, your stomach was growling at you. 

“You know shungite is used to block EMF radiation, that shit fucks with your brain waves. Messes you up. I have a piece on my phone case.” 

Smiling, you dig your phone out of your pocket and flip it over.

“No fucking way - “he picked it up, amazed. “You’re perfect, literally, perfect. Do you know a lot about stones? I have this room in my house - all crystals, some giant fucking ones too. I don’t know what they all mean - a friend gave me a book, but I never read it. I have an idea! What if you came? I could show you the room and you can tell me what they are. I have a telescope too, a really good one - I think you'd like it.” 

“Is this your way of asking me to visit?” you tease while tugging at his shirt. 

“Yes, of course! You must visit - you have to.” 

“Then of course I will - was that your stomach?” 

“Yes. It demands food.” 

You took the lids off the plates and handed him a fork. “Let’s eat.” 

.

Dieter shook his head while speaking with his hands. “No - that shit calcifies the pineal gland. Stay away from those -” 

You’ve been deep in conversation now for about two hours. Dieter was lying on his back while you laid on his chest, the both of you still naked from your previous activities.

It was beautiful, the both of you in your own little world as the snow fell heavily outside. You’ve juggled so many topics of conversation it was a little hard to keep track, but you were going with the flow and loving every second of it. Dieter's a wild, unpredictable, cozy ride and you’ve never been more thankful for a snowstorm in your life. 

“How do you feel about New Year's resolutions?” You asked, not sure why you did. 

He shook his head. “I don’t do that.” 

“Yeah, I used to when I was younger, but not anymore...have you ever had your birth chart done?” You could admit you've looked it up before, or at least the speculated chart, but don't. 

“Of course, show me yours and I’ll show you mine?” Dieter already had his phone out for you to view. 

.

2023

Being snowed in with Dieter weeks ago was a dream, one that kept you warm and fuzzy during the winter and through the month of January. As it neared its midway point, you weren't sure what you and Diter were. One night stand? Friends with benefits to be? When you parted ways post storm, nothing was defined. You knew there was a possibility, you’d never hear from him again, but to your surprise, he texted you just days later.

Even though his communication was sporadic at times, he did reach out. Now you had numerous texts, phone calls, and video calls between you as January neared its end. Plans remained undefined as far as a visit to LA, but you understood how crazy his schedule was so didn’t push. Plus, everything was so fresh, and you wanted the real invite to come naturally without any pressure. 

You were smitten as all hell and falling, hard. All while trying to keep a sensible mind about it. The 'what are we?' questions following you around like a phantom. It didn't help that he wore your bracelet - all the time! You even spotted it in a recent interview. Was it delusional to think that maybe- just maybe - 

Then there was the press, the beast, the greedy machine and all the speculation about Dieter and his sex life. Every week it seemed a new person he was rumored to be with, or some crazy drug crazed party people claimed he was at. The rumors of relapse were the most upsetting, especially because you knew he was working his ass off to keep it together. 

.

It wasn't uncommon to have a few days when you didn't hear from him, he was a busy guy after all. Some days he just sent some emojis until he could talk again. You were having one of those weeks, left with memories and emojis until the real thing came. You spent your

time working on your new book and at the planetarium. It was at the end of a very long shift when you heard from him again. 

First came the text with a link to an upcoming concert on January 30th. The headliner was one of yours and Dieter's favorite 90’s alternative bands. 

Dieter: Meet me in New York. I owe you a date. 

You: It’s true…I don’t know if the snow days counted as a date.

Dieter: Dinner, anywhere you want, then the show. VIP seats. Then I plan to spend the night between your thighs.  

You: You better :) Let's do this.  

In two days, it would be the last day of the year, and you couldn't wait for the reunion. 

.

The concert at Madison Square Garden was amazing. After the show, you ended up in Dieter's hotel room, already making out as he swiped the key card. 

“I have to leave really fucking early. International flights man -” he said between kisses. 

You weaved your fingers through his hair, "we better make the best of our time then.” 

Dieter woke up before sunrise, and though you didn't know it, he spent some time watching you sleep. The last thing he wanted was to disturb you, but he knew you’d be upset if he left without saying goodbye. 

Using gentle kisses along your neck and chin, Dieter whispered against your skin, “baby, I have to leave.” 

You didn’t wake right away; it took a minute or two until your eyes opened. A smile formed on your lips; Dieter's definitely your favorite sight in the morning. 

“It’s time already?” you yawned.

“Sadly, yes-” he buried his face beneath your chin, taking in your scent, “fuck it, I’ll cancel my flight.” 

“This is important, I can’t let you do that - you wanted this meeting for how long?” 

“A long time -"

Dieter had a script idea, and a director in mind. He explained the character as a cowboy secret agent, a role he always wanted to play. This trip, the first part at least, was about making that happen. 

“We’ll just have to see each other next time you're free,” you pouted.

Last night added up to four nights total with Dieter, but still, you were drunk on him. He was already weaving his way into your heart in such a short amount of time. 

Dieter balanced himself on his elbows as he studied you, “visit me.” 

“You know I would,” you replied.

“I’m serious.” 

“So am I.” 

As he smiled, you poked his dimple. 

“I get back from Europe late at night, February 13th.” He turned and rummaged around the desk in the dark. Once enough things fell over, you turned on one of the lights on while laughing. 

“Thanks,” he flashed a smile at you then sat up and turned away. 

“What are you hiding?” 

“Can you do it, a flight the morning of the 14th?” 

“I think I can swing that.” That was in 13 days from now, you could use your PTO, “yeah, let’s do it.” 

Dieter finally turned to you, presenting a sticky note with a heart drawn on it and text in the middle,

“Be my Valentine?” 

He was the cutest you’ve ever seen him; messy hair, big brown puppy dog eyes, it was heartwarming. “Of course, I’ll be your Valentine.” 

“It’s settled then; I’ll buy your ticket.” he sighed deeply while pulling you into a hug. “I missed you.” 

“I missed you too.” 

His next alarm went off, he groaned and snoozed it. 

“You’re going to be late -"

“I’ll make it, but we need to be fast. No way I’m leaving here without one more taste of you - “ he tore the covers away and moved between your legs. 

“If you miss that flight don’t blame me,” you tugged at the waistband of his pants. 

“If I miss it, I get to stay here, fucking you all day. I call that a win.” 

“Well, if you put it that way-” grabbing a fist full of his shirt, you pulled him down into a kiss. “Then we’ll get you on a later flight because this is important, and I won't let you bail on it.” 

“How did I get so damn lucky?” he smiled warmly then started to undress you. 

.

As the car pulled up to the gates, you couldn’t believe you were really there. Dieter Bravo's house. After a brief drive, you arrived at the front door, finding him waiting for you.

He looked adorable, his hair, pajamas and signature green robe plus his furry boots. His face lit up as he saw you. Dieter quickly took his sunglasses off, hung them on his shirt, and went to greet you.

“Sweetheart, it’s good to see you,” 

You're in his arms in an instant, his hug warm and secure. 

“How was your flight?” 

“First class direct with all the perks. I can’t complain.” 

“Good," he took a step back holding your arms as he took you in, “you look great.”

“I’m in tights and a hoodie “

“You look great,” he repeated, his gaze soft on yours. 

Dieter slid one hand down your arm while raising the other to your chin, admiring you further before kissing you. The kiss transports you back to Christmas Eve, under the mistletoe. 

“I’m glad you could make it Cosmo. Come, there's so much I want to show you.” 

You’re not sure what you expected his house to look like, but now that you’re here, it seems fitting. Posters of all kinds, movies, concerts, art prints. Paintings large and small, interesting pieces of furniture sprinkled in with the basics, more than a few bean bags and lava lamps.

“Happy Valentines Day!" he beamed. 

“Happy Valentines.” you replied, interlacing your fingers with his as he walks you through the house. 

As the tour went on, Dieter couldn't believe his luck. He missed you like hell and finally you were here. He was beyond smitten, he was hooked, whipped. You, the most perfect woman ever, possessed him, he thought of you day and night, thoughts both pure and unholy. He even took one of your bras after the snowstorm in NY and kept it.

He also kept the note you wrote after your snowed-in adventure. Dieter didn’t see you write it, but at the airport, he reached in his pocket and found it, rolled up like a scroll, a makeshift ribbon around it, 

Lovely being snowed in with you , Xo Cosmo 

You even left a lipstick stain on the back, and he handled the note so carefully, worried he’d tear it. He liked that the nickname grew on you, at first, he wasn’t sure if you’d like it. He kept it in his pocket all the time, just like he always wore your bracelet. 

.

You busied yourself in the living room as Dieter took some calls. It was a short while later he returned with a woman trailing behind him. She was carrying a portfolio, notebook, and a tablet all under one arm: definitely an assistant. Currently, she was texting, typing faster than you’ve ever seen anyone type. 

“There she is - “His expression lighted at the sight of you. Standing at the back of the couch, he leaned over to kiss you. “I have this thing tomorrow evening. Couldn’t get out of it. But -” he rounded the couch and sat next to you, “my attention is all yours before and after.” he held his hands together apologetically. 

You took his hands in yours. “Dieter, it’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not - I said we’d have four days together, undisturbed and -" he took a deep breath, then glanced at his assistant, “what if I show up for the post-viewing part?” 

With her eyes still downcast, she replied, “You need to be there by 7. Red carpet, photo ops, all the norms. The viewing starts at 8-”

He scratched his beard, “no, that's too early. How about 7:30? 7:45?” 

His assistant glanced up with a pinched expression. “Mr. Bravo, you know the drill.” 

He waved his hand, “I hate all that shit; besides I have company,” he kissed your hand.

“Be there at 7, get all the stuff out of the way and I’ll tell them you had business after so can’t do the Q&A?” 

“See! She’s the best - the best - “he jumped up and gave her a hug. “Wait, proper introductions.” 

Dieter proceeded to introduce you two, and you learned her name, Colleen. 

“Anything else before I go?” Colleen asked.

Dieter stretched out over your legs like a big cat. “Wait, they’ll have the Kit Kats, right? Last time, they forgot the Kit Kats-” 

“They will have the Kit Kats-”

"Are you sure? Will they be chilled?” 

“Yes, Mr. Bravo.” 

“Good -" he ran his fingers through his hair while nodding, then chuckled as you scratched his tummy. 

“Any other request?” 

You could tell she asked because she had to. Her stress level seemed high, but you could imagine why. As smitten as you were over Dieter, you would not want to be his personal assistant. 

“No - wait! “His eyes widened as he sat up, “a mascot! I need a mascot.”

“A mascot?” 

You even crooked a brow at him while biting back a laugh. 

“Yeah. Like they have in games but a big kit Kat.” he used his hands to demonstrate as he spoke. 

“Umm - I don’t know if -”

“If they want me there early, I need a mascot. I'll even do that stupid Instagram thing - only if I have the mascot.” 

“Um - yeah, a Kit Kat mascot…” Colleen jotted it down in her phone, “I will see what I can do.”

“Thank you, Colleen. Now I'd like to get back to my lady.” 

My lady, your heart fluttered at the words. 

“Nice to meet you, “she said your name, “bye Mr. Bravo.” 

“Dieter! Mr. Bravo sound so -”

She was already gone and out the door before he could finish. You scratched his tummy again with a smile, 

“You are so weird. A KitKat mascot?” 

“You like me anyway.” 

“I do.”

.

The premiere the next night went well. You got all dressed up and walked the carpet with Dieter, though it was a short walk. You waited off to the side for the rest as he took his solo shots and signed autographs. Even when you weren't at his side, he kept looking back at you and it made you feel close. 

Once all the necessary stuff was over, he changed into more comfortable clothes, you even got a few funny pictures with him and the Kit Kat mascot. Its appearance was confusing yet entertaining. It didn’t stay the whole time, just for the first hour. The mascot was waiting for you when you arrived at Dieter's dressing room. It was a compromise the theatre made to not distract from the event but fulfill Dieter's request. Dieter even paid the guy $200 bucks to keep the costume, which the guy agreed to. 

Afterward, you headed back to Sherman Oaks. For the last thirty minutes, you've been in Dieter's backyard lying on the trampoline. You’ve talked about your favorite stars and constellations and taught him some ones he didn't know but often saw in the sky. 

Dieter rolled on his side to look at you, “do you believe in Aliens?” 

“Of course.” 

“Me too. Think they're watching us right now?” 

“They could be.”

“We could give them a show?” 

“You are naughty, “you laughed, “how about you put on that Kit Kat costume, and I’ll get an alien one-”

“Ooh,” he sat up, “weird - but I like it -”

“I was just joking, you know.” 

“Nope,” he laid on top of you, “it's too late now. We have to do it.” 

.

24 hours later you were home and still buzzing from your visit. 

You didn’t have to wait long to hear from him either, he checked in to make sure you boarded and then landed safely. And later that night, he sent you a text once he got home from a busy day. 

Dieter: Looking at the stars, I am a little high, it was a stressful day okay... and thinking about you, that's the important part. See you soon Cosmo. 

Now Spring was here. 

You’ve been busy, busier than usual. With your new book finished you were officially in the time-consuming editing process. Plus, things amped up at work and you had a full plate. Dieter was busy too, as he was starting work on a new project. Your schedules meant it would be some time until you saw each other again and would have to rely on phone calls and texts in the meantime. 

As you reached the middle of May, you were missing him badly, but thankfully didn’t have to wait long. You were in the middle of some work when the text came.

Dieter: I can only stay for 2 days. NEEEEEED to see you.  

He arrived three days later. You were just out of the shower when he rang your bell. You unlocked the door, told him to come in then quickly pulled some clothes. He greeted you with a big kiss, then dramatically walked into the kitchen.

“Dieter you, okay?” 

He collapsed on the counter, hiding his face. “Don’t be mad.” 

“Okay - that is never a good way to start a sentence."

“It was awful, the worst ever -"

“Now you’re freaking me out."

He stripped off his jacket, threw it on the floor then held out his arm.

“Um?"

“The bracelet. It’s dead!” 

You burst into laughter. 

“No, no you don't understand, this is a very serious matter! I was wearing it - just getting my morning coffee and putting my headphones in - wired only and it just fucking - it went everywhere!" he was using sound effects now," worst day of my life. - Hey, I'm serious.” 

“I know I know and you're very cute." you caressed his face, fingers in his hair, “did you follow my care instructions?"

“Yes,” he said while shaking his head no. “I could have taken better care of it.” 

“These things happen, I can make you a new one.”

“No! I want the old one - the old one is special; it's the night we met.” 

“Managed to salvage any of it?” 

“Every-single -bead.” he dug a small bag out of his pocket. “I hope.” 

“Baby, it's okay, really, I'll use this to make you a new one, a Dieter-proof one.” 

.

While Dieter was out running errands the next day, you busied yourself with setting the mood for dinner. By the time you were done, candles decorated the table adding ambiance, and music played on the record player. 

He sent you an update text, letting you know he was running a little late on his return trip. Keeping the food warm, you took a seat and scrolled on your phone. A few funny and cute videos would pass the short wait. After a couple of entertaining videos, you came across one with Dieter’s face in the background, and a woman in the foreground speaking, 

“Dieter Bravo and co-star Scarlet Rose getting cozy on set -”

A knot formed in your gut, you quickly hit pause to shut her up. No, don’t look. It’s bullshit. Gossip. But the reminders don’t work, and you find yourself recalling that you and he never really had 'the talk'.  For you, even without a title, Dieter was your world, and you just kind of figured it was the same for him, now you wondered, if it wasn't. 

“Shit-” you press play on the video. The picture changes to one of Dieter and Scarlet looking really cozy.

"I don’t know about you, but they look really friendly to me."

You told yourself to stop but can't and then the last picture popped up. You studied it closely. At first glance, just two people speaking closely but the longer you looked-

“No, don’t fall for it. They’re just talking, and she stands too close to everyone.” You told yourself as you put your phone away. 

Even as Dieter walked through the door minutes later, your mood remained tainted. You smiled, dined, and even danced a little post-dinner but the entire time you were spiraling inside. 

When it came time for the dishes, Dieter volunteered to do them with you. You had a few things washed when he turned the water off and gently grabbed your shoulders. 

“Hey, where’d you go tonight?” 

“What do you mean?”

“You weren’t here. You were here - but not here.” 

“I’m fine,” you started to turn away, but he held you there, 

“Come on baby, what is it?”

You tried your best to avoid headlines and gossip, but every once in a while, one got to you, and tonight it did. You sighed and leaned against the sink. 

“Dieter?”

“Yeah?” he moved closer to you, concerned.

“-” you start and stop a few times, not knowing what to say, then finally spit out, “Scarlett Rose - “ 

At the sound of her name, Dieter sighed and cupped your cheeks with his hands. “Don’t let that get to you. It’s bullshit. Drama.” 

“In the photos, you just look so…”

Dieter grabbed your hand and led you to the table. Once you both seated, he looked you in the eye as he held your hands. “This is on me. I should've - I was so busy, then you got busy too. I didn’t push for anything definitive because I was worried.” 

“About?” 

“If you’d want to wait around for me that much, there may be times you don’t see me for half a year. It’s not easy."

“I know.” 

“My past, my reputation. I was scared you’d lose interest after a while.” 

“That’s crazy, it’s you, how could I ever get bored?”

“There’s that smile,” he kissed your forehead, “let me be clear then.  I’m off the market. There’s this sexy as fuck super smart astronomer -”

Your smile widened as relief washed over you. 

Dieter grew more animated as he talked, “She’s amazing! That’s where my heart is. Not some actress - you hear me.”

“Yes,” 

“I’m crazy about you, just you. Do you have any idea how much I look forward to seeing you?” he kissed your lips.

“Thank you, “you kissed him back, “that astronomer you speak of happens to be crazy about you too.” 

Dieter took a deep breath while admiring you, “Let’s make it official. You and me.”

“I’d like that.” 

“Me too,” he wrapped you in his arms, “I'm sorry, I should have asked earlier.” 

“You asked now, this is still special.”

Dieter pulled back from the hug first, your name soft on his lips, “I love you.” 

Relief and joy washed over you, “I love you too Dieter.” 

.

The year flew by, and soon it was November.

Busy with your book and work, you didn't get to fly out to LA as much as you wanted to. Dieter was also away filming. How little you saw each other was difficult but you made the best of it. As the days got closer to December you were filled with glee. You already thought the holidays were special, now Dieter gave them extra meaning.  

When a lull in your schedule came, you spent it at home and decided to do some deep cleaning. You were in the middle of that when Dieter called. Turning the music down, you answered the phone, 

“I'm outside.” 

“Really?” you lit up as you looked out the window to see him waving at you.

At this point, you haven't seen each other in months and missed him dearly. Happily, you rushed to the door and let him in. Jumping into his arms, you greeted each other with a hug and kiss. 

“I missed you,” he whispered against your skin. “I know this song, we did this together.” 

“I know, memories and all.” You grabbed your phone and showed it to him. It’s a playlist with his photo as the background titled ‘Kiss me under the mistletoe. “I know, it’s a little cheesy but it started with songs from the night, now I add any song that makes me think of you.” 

“You are adorable. “Excitedly, Dieter pulled up his phone and followed the playlist. Once that was done, he took a pouch out of his hand. "I have something for you.” 

“A visit and a gift, lucky me.” 

With one arm around you, he presented the pouch with the other. You opened the bag and pulled out a set of keys. 

“So, you can come to Sherman Oaks anytime you want even if I’m not there.”

“Dieter-” you hold them up with a smile. 

“I know we can’t move in together, technically - full time - your life and career are here, mine is in LA and wherever the work takes me. But, we can have a home base, together.” 

Feeling giddy, you rushed him with a kiss.  “I gotta make you a set of keys then, two home bases are better than one.” 

As you savor being in his arms, you think about the future. You and Dieter's relationship included lots of travel back and forth and one day it would be nice to be in the same place. 

Only part of your job at the Planetarium was on site, you wonder, if you get your job fully remote, maybe you could move out there temporarily? It was an idea with entering, especially as you and Dieter got more serious as time went on. 

.

You didn’t plan it this way, a book tour lining up with the holidays but here you were.

After publishing your sci-fi book (eight years in the making) in the spring, it was slow going, the sales and coverage you hoped for weren't there. Then something happened over the summer and fall, and your book took like wildfire. 

Due to some issues, your last date, which was supposed to be days ago, got delayed, which is why you were in another city days before Christmas, and not at home LA with Dieter. To be fair, his schedule got crazy last minute too, and he just made it back a day ago. 

You lovingly planned a whole holiday week together, a plan then had to abandon. It put you in a down mood and all you wanted was to be cozied up with him, not in some hotel room. 

Dieter: “It's okay baby, we’ll see each other tomorrow.”  

You: “I know I just - I had the perfect week planned and we didn’t get to do any of it.”  

Dieter: “I have you, that's all I need. Fuck the rest of it.” 

Later that night, as you prepared for bed, you got a text from Dieter with a link. You settled in, set two alarms for your flight then watched the video. 

Interviewer: We’re on set and behind the scenes with Dieter Bravo! Okay, first question and no cheating, what are the last two artists you listened to?” 

On the screen, Dieter was in his usual comfortable attire and wearing sunglasses. 

Dieter: Easy. Snoop Dog, Fleetwood Mac.

Interview: Wow, what a fun mix! 

Dieter: It’s my lady’s playlist, good stuff.

Dieter lowered his shades and winked at the camera, and you knew, no matter what other fans were watching and losing their shit, that wink was solely for you. He even tapped his arm where your bracelet lived before the interview continued. 

.

‘We are beginning our descent into Los Angeles-’ 

The overhead announcement pulled you from your light sleep. A light tingling sensation washed over you, followed by the urge to smile. This happened every time you landed in LA to see Dieter. Time was on your mind as well, today marked one year since you met. The night you met often replayed in your mind like a movie, even 12 months out, it was still hard to believe.

Off the plane now, you moved through the airport, each step getting you closer and closer to your love as anticipation buzzed within you. Dieter always sent the same car and driver, so you went to pick-ups and looked for a familiar face. You’re only down there for a few minutes when you see him holding a sign scribbled with hearts, in the middle was the nickname for you, ‘Cosmo’. 

“I cannot handle how cute you are!” You hurried your steps as he ran toward you. 

As you went in for a kiss, Dieter pulled a mistletoe from his pocket and held it over your head. 

“It’s tradition now. Happy anniversary!” 

“Happy anniversary,” you echoed before kissing him. 

This past fall, you and Dieter talked about an anniversary date. You met on Christmas Eve and started to see each other casually after that. But you didn’t make it official until the

springtime. When Dieter said time was just a man-made thing and you didn’t have to adhere to it, you both decided to make Christmas Eve your official anniversary date. 

.

As soon as you arrived at the house, Dieter asked you to close your eyes and led you to the living room.  

“I never have time to have a tree. The one time I did, I didn’t decorate it, it just sat there naked. I was upstairs painting and smoking a joint then I thought, do trees get cold? And I put a robe on it.” 

You laughed, “Of course you would.”

Dieter guided you into place, resting his hands on your hips. “Don’t worry, I used real decorations this year. Only the best for my love - open your eyes in 3-2-1.”

You gasped as you moved close to the tree. “Dieter!” 

“I stayed up all night to get it right -” he watched as you checked out the ornaments and lights, “I might have got too obsessed with getting it right,” he started counting on his fingers, “you should have seen it. I had Pinterest boards, watched videos, took a screenshot of the tree in your favorite Christmas movie…”

“It’s perfect!” 

It was the tree of your dreams, every detail from the ornaments, the color of the lights, the height. 

You look back, finding him smiling at you. “I know we were supposed to do it together.” 

“Don’t worry about it,” he hugged you from behind and rested his head on your shoulder. "A little sleep deprivation is a small price to pay for that look in your eyes. That’s what I wanted to see.” 

“I love you so much.” 

He brushed the tip of his nose against yours, “I love you too.” 

.

After a long eventful day, you and Dieter lay in bed warm and cozy, cuddling as moonlight streamed through the windows casting its silvery rays across your faces. Sleep called, its lullaby pleasing to your ears, but no match for the sweet trail of kisses Dieter planted on your shoulder. 

“I read your book again on my flight last week.” 

“You did?” you smiled feeling peaceful. 

“Question,” he reached over to the nightstand, grabbing your book. He flipped to a specific page and pointed at it. “This sex scene, was this inspired by that night after the concert?”

“In New York? When you were absolutely feral? Yes, rewrote the original scene. What can I say, you were my muse.”

“I knew it!” He threw his hands in the air. “Wait! The hair, the way he speaks - was he inspired by the space movie I didyears ago?” Dieter's eyes flew open wide. 

You pressed your finger to your lips, “If you don’t tell, I won't.” 

“This was so fucking hot baby.” 

“Have access to a sci-fi movie set where we can role-play?” you asked suggestively. 

“I would do this in a heartbeat.” 

You sat up and scooted closer to him. “Sometimes I still pinch myself to make sure this is real,” you confess happily. 

Dieter had a response ready but found himself tongue-tied as he looked into your eyes; you took his breath away, and he knew you still would when you were both old and grey. Slowly, Dieter tilted his head and moved in for a kiss. 

In each other's embrace, you stay here a while; in this space of love and warmth, trust and safety; home. Your hearts beating as one, drums in unison. Every brush of the lips, every caress, every pang of desire further deepening the bond between you. 

Dieter pulled you beneath him on the bed, teasing his lips against yours as you wrapped your legs around him. 

“You're not the only one with a present we need to wait for.” 

“Is that so?” Earlier in the evening as you exchanged gifts, you told him you had one more. It was something you were working hard at and hoped to present him with tonight but it wasn’t ready. 

“Mmmhmm. We gotta go to a place to see it. Road trip in a few days?” 

“I’d love that,” you replied while playing with his hair. 

.

Dieter took you on a short road trip, it was filled with sightseeing and off-the-beaten-track stops. You already had so much fun by the time you reached the destination you didn’t know what to expect, or how he would top it all. 

The observatory was amazing. Dieter loved watching you geek out as you took it all in. He gave you plenty of space to explore before guiding you to your gift. 

“Ooh a telescope?” 

He spoke off to the side with the guide who then put it in a specific position. 

“Sweetheart, I want you to look through this and tell me what you see.

“Okay,” the little kid in yours was so giddy from this whole trip. You loved any excuse to look at the stars. Once you settled in, you noticed the telescope was zoomed in as close as

possible with a star in the center. 

“Wanna know her name?” Dieter kneeled beside you, softly whispering your name in your ear. 

“No way!” you looked at him with a wide smile and tears in the corner of your eyes. 

He nodded enthusiastically, “way.” 

“I’m a fucking star in the galaxy!” 

“Thank you for an amazing year baby, and so many more to come.” 

Overwhelmed with joy, you jump into his arms. The two of you fall backward as you kiss. 

.

2024

You were nearly shaking with anticipation as the day came. You had breakfast, spent some time at the Met, and then finally took Dieter to his present. No matter how much he tried to get details out of you, you didn’t cave. But when you arrived at the address, his eyes flew open in surprise. 

“No fucking way-” he grabbed your arm, “baby?” 

“Yes.”

“How?!” 

“I have my connections too. I may not be a famous movie star, but it turns out 6 degrees of separation can really be helpful.” you pointed to the tattoo artist's name, “turns out his father used to be an Astronomy professor and knew my boss.” 

“This is the best present ever!” Dieter jumped up and down, then pulled you into a big hug. 

He had a few tattoos, all small. He had a bigger piece in mind, there was only one guy he wanted to do it. A man who was booked years out, even for Hollywood stars, and worked all over the world. He was rarely ever at his NY studio these days. Dieter hoped to work with him but didn’t know if it would ever really happen - until you. 

“You worked your magic baby, amazing!” he gave you a big kiss and then rushed inside, pulling you along behind him. 

.

Life with Dieter was exciting, funny, sensual, and at times frustrating. You knew who he was, and what his life was like. So going in you had some context, but being his girlfriend and living it real time was a wild ride. Still, you and Dieter’s love deepened with each day. 

This fairy tale turned reality was still strange, and you were thankful for every second of it, even the upsetting parts but this was still your reality - you were the woman who captured his heart. Dieter wasn’t shy about his romance or how in love he was. He was super protective of you, while also letting the world know yes, he was taken, happily. 

“I’m a very lucky man, and yes, I’m in love. She’s fucking amazing.” He said in one interview. 

He didn’t like paparazzi getting close to you and wasn’t shy about telling reporters and others to mind their business and give you space. He even took you to events, which was wild the first time, it was a trip and felt like a dream - you still have the photo taken of you two on the red carpet on your photo wall. He looked so happy, smiling as he buried his face in your hair; all the flashing lights and big names, and all he saw was you. 

As the year moved along, there were still long periods where you didn’t see each other, and at times, you missed him so much it hurt. But you always knew you'd reunite, and it made the reunions so much sweeter. As for your living situation, it was kind of all over, your place, his place, and everything in between. Though you were making the best of it, it was getting a little exhausting at times. You knew some changes may be needed, possibly sooner than later, but you were also anxious about upsetting the wacky balance that was your lives together. 

.

Now, three weeks before Christmas, you made your way to LA. You’d stay for two months this time, and we're looking forward to it. After a busy shoot, Dieter had four weeks of vacation coming up and was looking forward to spending every second of it with you.

But your reunion had to wait just a little longer. You’d spend these first two weeks alone, decorating the house, getting the tree up, and writing. You had an idea for your third book and the words were flying, wanting to ride the inspiration wave, you decided to spend the time before his arrival getting as much work done as possible, then nothing but relaxing once he arrived. Unlike last year, you were the one arriving early while Dieter would be late. He hoped to return from the UK by Christmas Eve, and then you’d start your vacation

together. 

After landing, you rented a car and headed to his house. Upon approaching, your jaw dropped, the house was decked out, with lights, Santa, snowmen, and elves - all of it and you couldn't help but laugh because there was just so much of everything, like Dieter decorated in one of his manic states. 

“Oh Dieter,” you laughed, imagining him frantically decorating before flying out. He must have done this to give you more time to write.

Once inside the house, you dropped off your bags by the door then followed the sound of music to the living room. Was one of his assistants here? The occasional house staff? You were happy to do things on your own, so when you visited you didn’t need extra hands around. 

Half expecting to see the part-time butler or one of his assistants, you turned the corner and entered the living room. 

“Oh my god-” 

You raised your hands to your mouth, taking in the gorgeous Christmas tree. Dieter was currently on a ladder, adding a star on the top. 

“Surprise!” He said with a big smile. 

“‘What are you doing here?” 

“That's kind of how surprises work baby, you don’t tell the person - “

“Smartass,” you made your way to him as he climbed down. His pockets were stuffed with ornaments, and he had a row of lights round his neck. “You look like a Christmas tree.” 

“Two for one- “he grinned then dug a mistletoe from his pocket, 

“Gladly,” you sing, cupping his cheeks with your hands as you kiss him. 

.

Dieter stopped in the doorway as you typed at your computer, your fingers moving quickly as the words left you at lightning speed. He loved watching you work, loved watching you do anything really. And he was more than happy to turn this room into your writing sanctuary, it was filled with excess canvases and this house was always too big for him, well - until you got here, only then did it really start to feel like home.

Leaving you to it, he stepped away quietly and returned to the kitchen to unbag the groceries. It’s been three days since you arrived, three blissful days, days he dreamed of on his long nights and early mornings on set. 

He was happy, over the moon really but he was also so damn nervous his stomach was in knots. This was going well, better than he expected, better than he ever maintained any other relationship before.

The truth was, he fell in love with you that very first night. You had his heart, then and there. And he spent a bunch of time afraid he’d fuck it up, so he convinced himself it was good - being so busy - he couldn't fuck things up that way. He was thankful he came to his senses and made it official that night at your place, he deserved this, you were meant to be together. 

.

After dinner, you cleared up the kitchen then snuggled on the couch to watch one of your favorite holiday movies. As the movie went on, you noticed Dieter was distracted, in fact, he had been during all of dinner. 

“Hey,” you turned the movie off, “you, okay?” 

He cleared his throat as he looked at you, clearly nervous. 

“Dieter,”

You took his hand in yours, worried about what it could be. He did just film with an old party buddy and fellow actor of his, was this related to that? Was he feeling tempted? Whatever it was, you’d support him and help him through it. 

He ran his hands through his hair once, then a second time, and took a deep breath. 

“Okay, I am officially very worried. Talk to me.” 

“I think a kiss will make me feel better.” 

“I’ll give you all the kisses you want,” after the kiss, you wrapped your arms around him while holding eye contact. “Talk to me.” 

He wet his lips, then closed his eyes. You can do this. Don’t be a chicken shit. Just ask!  

When he opened his eyes again, they were soft and full of love. He held your face in his hands, 

“You're the love of my life. My soulmate. I knew it the moment I saw you. Marry me?”

“Yes, I'll marry you!” 

There were no awkward pauses, no hesitation, this was 100% a yes and you could feel your soul dancing. Dieter was your other half, the missing puzzle piece you didn't even know you needed. Happy as a puppy, Dieter littered your face with kisses.

“Oh shit, the ring, wait -"he got it out of his pocket and down on one knee, “let me do this right.” 

Before you could tell him, his way was perfect, he proceeded, the sound of your name was like poetry on his tongue, 

“Will you marry me?”

You kneeled too, “of course, I’ll marry you - as long as there’s chilled Kit Kats and karaoke.” 

Dieter laughed and placed the ring on your finger. “You’re fucking amazing.” 

You stared at your hand, happy tears falling down your cheeks. “Holy shit! Mrs. Bravo!"

He smiled softly, admiring you while caressing the length of your arm. “Dreams do come true my love.” 

“Damn right they do,” you took one more look at the ring, then at him, savoring the look in his eyes, “Mrs. Bravo?!"

“Mrs. Bravo.” He repeated as he pressed his lips to yours. 

As an exception I posted this in full. I no longer post full work on tumblr, just on A03. 💜Arte

✨Previous Secret Santas: one, two

✨My Pedro character masterlist

✨Masterlist

More moodboards below

[ryssbelle]

Have you heard about a new ship between John Dory Delta Dawn? Though I find it kind of weird

It is on TikTok and Tumblr, If You want to check it out?

I’ve heard of it, I think their ship is as old as tbt at this point XD

I think their dynamic is really funny

[javierduffy]

nawt super excited abt where my art style is going

[swordmaid]

i am wide awake thinking about that post canon jb au again when I should be sleeping …!!! such is the nature of the jbrainrot…

[cynicalmusings]

weeewoooweeewoooo heizou with a musician!reader whom he first overhears playing at a concert/music festival in inazuma (e.g. iridescent tour) and can’t get their music out of his head he so starts asking around and investigating to find more about them, but little does he know they’re interested in him from hearing about the cases he’s solved and is doing the same, so both of them start ‘accidentally’ wandering around the streets for hours on end to try and bump into each other and keep missing each other by, like, one street corner each time

[still-alive-mp3]

People will be like “you can’t ship tacomic!!!” And then say nickloon is the healthiest ship they’ve ever seen

(Please read tags before sending any kind of hate)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

kenjaku is such a mixed bag of character traits it stresses me out 💀💀 they r an onion and i am dutifully peeling layer after layer……

[litrallytyrus]

whatever the hell richard and jan got going on is boyfriends as hell like um ……… i know gay people when i see em!

[kentopedia]

in my head everyone with a one piece selfship just exists in the universe too like i’ll be watching and i’m like omg wait … that’s [mutual’s] bf/gf i cant believe i finally unlocked them <33 and then i insert you into the story with them LMAO

[voltrixz]

Was already dealing with the great fag off in my brain (Micheal Myers and Jason Voorhees VS. Shocker and Electro) but now my oc’s (Kalynx and Elliot ) showed up bro HELPPPPP

[javierduffy]

just a few javieran horse headcanons because i like them a normal amount

branwen

- tall AND fat. kieran makes sure he’s always fed (maybe even accidentally a teensy bit overfed. just because kieran can’t help but indulge him when he butts him with his head or nuzzles at his pockets when he knows there’s treats in there. but never too much because ‘obesity is a problem, even in animals !’). probably about 17hh, taller than average for a kentucky saddler but nothing too big. especially since kieran himself is quite tall

- VERY well-tempered, both naturally, as well as because kieran has literally made him bulletproof. bagged him, blanketed him, stood, jumped, backflipped onto and off of him. this kindly gentleman of a horse only spooks when he wants to be bratty specifically.

- i think he’s about 6 or so, came from the stables kieran worked at after being orphaned, he was just a colt when kieran was just a kid. kieran learned how to birth foals quickly, and branwen happened to be one of them. with the way that they fell in love with each other and the way that branwen whinnied and pranced up to the fence when kieran came back to buy him after the army didn’t work out, you’d think that horse was born just for him.

- his favourite treats, in order, are rutabaga (kieran’s secret for branwen’s glossy coat. also why he’s kinda fat.), boiled potatoes mixed into his oats, apples, and fresh greens. he’s simultaneously incredibly easy to please because of the simplicity of the latter parts of his favourites list and also very needy and complicated because kieran so loves to make his pony happy with his absolute favourite treats, so he tries his very best to get branwen’s eccentric tastes pleased once falling into the VDL’s.

- i always say “a horse’s favourite thing to do is hurt itself”, and i think this statement holds relatively true for branwen as well, though there’s a 25% chance that he’s actually hurt, a 50% chance that he’s only mildly injured or spooked and he’s playing it up to get kieran to dote on him, and a 25% chance that he will protect kieran with his life when they’re in a dire situation (see: snake on the ground or gunfire nearby. or even god forbid a spare tumbleweed find it’s way rolling nearby.) despite kieran’s last wish being his horse getting injured. branwen thinks that he’s gotta be The Man and protect his dad sometimes. it does not help in any situation ever whatsoever.

- branwen is the PERFECT companion for a trail riding date. he’s settled, calm, has a great gait, and as a gelding, truly is not worried about other horses being “faster” than him, so he never gets rowdy nor has any problems when partner riders/horses crowd him. kieran is allowed to ask for as many kisses as he pleases because branwen will never jump when javier’s gold-tipped boots poke him in the side and boaz irritatedly flicks his flank with his tail. truly a goated wingman. also never complains about long rides, and enjoys being out of camp with his rider for as much as physically possible for both of them, so he’s never barnsour in either direction.

boaz

- as an american paint, he’s naturally short and stocky. saddle ends up being a bit loose, though, as javier isn’t as dedicated to keeping him perfectly fed or groomed. he loves him, sure, but horses are somewhat of tools to him, so he kinda does slightly more than bare minimum to keep him kempt and healthy. around 14.5hh, slightly shorter than average and quite dense with muscle

- temperamentally a bit volatile. this horse has just as much drama as his rider, if not a little more. doesn’t like something ? ridden too long ? that stick looks too much like a snake ? hasn’t spent enough time with kieran that day ? he will snort and grunt and bunny hop if javi isn’t on him, and shudder hard enough the saddle shakes underneath him if he is. boaz likes to please his rider, but he also demands pleasure himself, and has no issue with “accidentally” placing a hoof on his owners nice, intentionally clean boots, and subsequently slowly leaning more and more of his weight onto it when he doesn’t immediately get what he wants. bratty pony. generally, he keeps javier safe, though, when it comes down to it.

- around 5 years old. after dutch found javier trying to steal chickens the first time they met, he soon took him back to that ranch and their first take as gang leader and member was a 1 year old grey paint colt for javi to train and subsequently ride. until he was rideable, javier rode a morgan that was formerly hosea’s, named carolina, while he lead boaz everywhere behind him.

- favourite treats, in order, are corn cobs (especially dried), prickly pear fruit AND cactus, sugar cubes, and sliced apples. will force javier to share his maiz with him. javier has always sliced his apples up since he was a colt, not only because javi simply finds comfort in toying with his knife, but also because boaz will not eat them otherwise. javi will also cut all of the spines off of the cactus before letting boaz eat them.

- in terms of injury, boaz is the most dramatic tank on the planet. this horse could arthur morgan-style run face first into a tree and then fall off a cliff and walk it off. but not before he gimps and limps and whines and teeth grinds his way into javier leading him instead of riding him for the next mile or two. once kieran started taking care of him, there is also a 25% chance of boaz faking a terribly painful injury just to get kieran to dote on him.

- kinda the worst wingman ever LMFAO easily annoyed, easily aroused, easily offended, and as a stallion, HAS to walk in front of the “herd” (his rider’s boyfriend and his horse). pins his ears back, smashes into personal space, flicks branwen with his tail (and preferably kieran, if he can reach him) even sometimes will nip at branwen if the latter tries to calmly make this date a date and not a life or death race (whoever loses, their dad is gay) and walk side-by-side to aid their riders’ hand holdings. will make executive decisions via stopping or veering off for fresh green grass beside the trail, will at points actively attempt to shudder javier out of his saddle (has succeeded once when javi was distracted by a story being excitedly told by kieran), and will also spook and take off running so fast javier thinks it must have broken his neck from the velocity. generally makes trail rides a living hell, but kieran finds it charming, and it makes for some cute shoujo-style “omg … *reaches out to help you up after your horse bucks you off because he saw a log that looked nothing at all and everything like a cougar and pink and white soft bubbles surround me* are you okay ? here, let me help.” moments. maybe some day boaz will be allowed off of the national american terrorist list written by javier “rizzless rider” escuella

ok im tired and that’s all i can think of please enjoy and feel free to contribute 👍 i love them so bad im gona cry

[rat-prophetess]

I have this deeply unfortunate condition where I cannot absorb verbal information without doodling, but also I have the drawing skills of young child and the permanently shaky hands of a wizened crone SO the results are. Unfortunate.

I am definitely making a great impression on my classmates and future colleagues by scrawling stick-figure patho characters next to them while they’re trying to listen to orientation lectures 👍🏻

anyway this (+ illegible handwriting) is why I can never lend people my notes. termitarywallart.jpg