#so I hope someone has a lot of fun reading it!

[blueberrypancakesworld]

Heyaa dunno if u write NSFW so read no further if you don't!

May we get uhhh Franco Barbi having his... "Lupara" (wink wink nudge nudge) kissed by a reader who happens to be one of his working girls and him being surprised at how sweet and gentle she is with him pls? Also reader is very shy because she's a newbie

Thank uu 😇

Love can be gentle

Franco Barbi x fem!reader

warning : smut, gun play, getting oral m, fluff, comfort, kissing, no use of y/n, nicknames like ma'am and good boy

Summary : It wasn't easy to run a theater, prepare a show and above all be a good boy who would make his mother proud. But even Franco needs a moment of peace and one of his girls has a special eye on the gangster. Perhaps there will be a romance movie for a change instead of just porn on the big screen.

info : Of course you will get something like this dear anon thanks a lot for the request, i had a lot of fun writing it especially for the shy reader it was really sweet. I wish you a lot of fun reading ;)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In his area, his trial, he could do anything he wanted to sleep, drink milk, carve his ammunition from the most beautiful teeth or even turn to his victims who were all like playthings for the gangster whose lust is only surpassed by his love for violence.

Everyone knew Franco Barbi and his brutality but also his genius even down here in the hell of an asylum or wherever they were, nobody really knew and wouldn't think about it for long.

Because either you died in the first few days or you lost your mind trying to understand it...only the fewest still had something like emotions, morals or a mind.

A mind that still worked and a mind that could be used to give something to the more important experiments, like a wind-up toy that kept working instead of breaking.

,,You are his dolls, his girls so try to take it with a pinch of dignity, think of it as babysitting my dears” it was these words before the pills had taken effect and the new batch of prisoners was sent to Franco.

A couple of new pretty girls who would be Franco's poster children and decoys and weapons for his prey, they were bad kids who needed to be punished, he knew it, the dead knew it, they realized it too late and she knew it.

She knew it as well as the black patent stiletto heels on her feet as she made her rounds in the theater, her route now worn out for several minutes as they all did regardless of whether the game had begun or not, ,,Where are you?” she muttered, switching the revolver in her hand again to get her fingers moving again.

Franco had been gone for hours she had only seen him in the morning or however many o'clock it was when he disappeared with a few teeth, nervous and more excited than usual.

A thing she shouldn't really care about, no one should care about anyone here because their own survival was more important but Franco, her boss, her experiment, her sweet boy was something else to her since she met him which had almost resulted in the loss of her head if he hadn't pulled his lupara away when she had introduced herself to him.

This man the gangster psychopath with mother complex had just done it to her, he was cute and misunderstood and maybe it was the drugs, the pills, the gewlat or her lost hope for recovery but she had lost her heart a little to the man-baby.

Before her thoughts could go any further and she hoped that no one had seen her lost in thought look, she heard an unmistakable scream and wailing from afar.

Franco was back and seemed more stressed than usual, she immediately felt worried as she watched him come into the theater by the broken window and the ,,I hope for you dolls you're all on your fucking posts!” scream could be heard, something that seemed normal to the others put her on edge.

Was it normal? Did he want something? Should she go to him? Didn't someone have to calm him down because babysitting was her job, so to speak?

But the warmth on her cheeks and her heart now beating faster than it should didn't make things any better, despite everything she had seen, her nervousness didn't seem to have gone away, let alone her shyness.

Something that wasn't even bad Franco even seemed satisfied that she didn't talk so much because she was afraid to say the wrong thing and couldn't get anything out without dying of heat exhaustion...but now she finally had a chance.

Holstering her gun, she finally broke away from her route and walked down the stairs from the second floor as best the building would allow into the main hall where only he sat, each step making her more nervous, the questions and scenarios she imagined becoming more and more terrifying.

But her shoes betrayed her and the creaking of the old wood seemed to be a scream in the relatively quiet room, ,,What the fuck do you want?” the question from Franco, who had his gun pointed at her, was a shot and she put her hands up briefly, seeing how he seemed to relax as much as possible.

Her voice trailed off for a moment and she cleared her throat before coming to stand in front of him, looking down at him, ,,I...I saw you were nervous, do you need something?” she asked, her fingers clutching at the short skirt that exposed most of her legs to him.

An outfit not quite to her taste but it seemed to do something for Franco whose blue eyes were reluctant to leave her and smirked, ,,Do I fucking need anything? Doll, I don't think you can give me what I need, can you?” he asked, a challenging look in his eyes.

A look that she had often seen, especially when he had found a pretty, beautiful victim whose body he wanted to use for his personal collection, a look that not only made her nervous but also turned her on more than it should.

I'd give you anything Franco she would have liked to scream and get down on her knees in front of him but instead her gaze dropped nervously to the floor and she stammered around the right words, something that seemed to amuse the gangster greatly and he had forgotten his worries, at least for now.

She was new and he had been playing this game for as long as he had been here, it was a game of cat and mouse, a game of knowing and giving in but here she knew he only spoke the language of brutality...but in the few moments she had seen him for herself he was not only alone but also searching for love and gentleness.

Maybe as he didn't have to admit his side she just had to jump over her shadow and whether it was because of the gas and drugs or her love for him didn't matter as she carefully knelt down in front of him and Franco's gaze became curious.

The baby had become interested in what was happening in front of him, a beautiful woman, perfect shoes with heels that could and would surely hurt him, hands that would hit him if he leaned on them and a gun that would shoot if he pulled down her skirt.

Just as he reached his hand out to her, still feeling impatient and angry, she laid her cheek against his hand, her warm cheek seeming almost alien to him since every female body he played with was actually cold.

But this warmth was almost pleasant, so pleasant that he began to caress her cheek lightly, breaking their eye contact every now and then, both unsure if this was the right thing to do, ,,I can show you gentleness...if you like Franco” she began to find her voice seemed to be in the right place as she knelt between his legs looking at him a gentle look meeting his now uncertain one as he was not used to this new feeling.

Her hands moved from her skirt to his white-streaked suit pants, tracing the fabric, the skin underneath squeezing slightly with a pleasant tug, and she plucked up the courage to reach for his gun.

His most important possession, which he also clutched for fear she would take it away from him, ,,Gentleness can also be loving, caring and nurturing,” she continued to murmur, the words escaping her lips and a Franco unaware that such a thing even seemed possible.

But he hesitantly loosened his lupara and her lips kissed the wood and metal, the cold weapon giving her a goose bump that seemed to pass to Franco as he groaned at the sight.

How pretty she was, how gentle she was with such an ugly thing, how her lips kissed along the gun, how his mind interpreted the image into something ambiguous and he felt how he wanted her...but not rough and dead, he wanted that softness she gave him.

She ran her tongue over the barrel of the gun metal and blood tasted unpleasant but not strange and her fingers ran over his strokes, ,,Gentle-gentle is good, the baby will like it” she heard his rough voice as he kept his noises under control not wanting to interrupt her.

She didn't want to lose the idea that had rarely fascinated and above all aroused him so much, an arousal that pressed painfully against his pants and she had seen this long ago when she finished her little performance, encouraged by his reaction.

Encouraged by how he saw her, what he thought of her but most of all that he liked her gentleness was something that gave her the courage she needed as she placed her hands on his cheeks for a moment, ,,A good boy you are Franco, so good for your ma'am” she murmured with the same warm cheeks as she engaged him in a kiss. Franco felt her hold his hands gently on her hips, yet not letting go, he had taken a liking to the new feeling.

Something he'd never had and would now only get from her and he let her pull as her fingers traveled down his torso, running over his arousal, the deformed one whimpering as his fingers dug into the back of the seat instead of gripping her tightly.

The praise did wonders for him, along with the gentleness it was just something he'd never felt before, ,,Your reward baby...for behaving to take some of the stress off you,” she said, and he barely remembered in his fuzzy memory why he'd been so angry when he'd burst in here.

Undoing the button of his pants, she ran her tongue over the fabric of them first and was almost surprised at the hasty movement of his hips, he really was an impatient man.

But she didn't let herself be put off and licked once more over the fabric gently, teasing a little before she freed his cock from the fabric, the whimpering and pleading of the psychopath rewarding her with a kiss on the already dripping tip.

Spreading it a little with more kisses and licks, she was sure he could come from that alone.

He had held out so well for her, responded so well to her praise, ,,Be gentle and Mommy gives you everything,” she said, her hand gently stroking his and he held onto it as a breathless begging continued to come from his lips and she finally took his own 'lupara' in her mouth to show him how gentle and intimate something like this could be.

He just had to behave and be a good boy who simply had to accept the feeling of love and softness if he wanted to continue to feel it on him...because even love is soft.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@lovesick-on-the-loose , @millie-milkshake , @xgrisleyx , @trash-flowerss

[alittlebitofloveliness]

just read both of your posts about the outsiders scenario of ponyboy died instead of johnny, and now I'm curious — just theoretically, how do you see it going down if dallas was the one to die first? i know it's completely illogical and he's just not the type to die all of a sudden or be reckless in a "hero" way, but still. I'm really damn curious about how it would affect johnny, especially, as you have mentioned that losing someone in the gang would've taken a big toll on him.

Hi anon! I'm really having fun with this though experiment, thank you for the ask. If anyone else has any more feel free to send asks, and for anyone who's new to this meta heres part 1, part 2, and part 3.

Now, let's dive in. In what world does Dallas die before/instead of Johnny and how does it change the story's outcome? You're right in that Dallas isn't particularly illogical or 'heroic', but he IS incredibly loyal, reckless to a fault, and absolutely ruled by his emotions. He follows Pony and Johnny into the fire, and emerges with a burned arm. Now this action is heroic but also selfish, and reckless to the point of dangerous. Dallas easily could have been the one who broke his back and ended up dying in the hospital instead of Johnny. In fact, it was arguably his plan, as he and Johnny tossed Pony out first and Dally only followed behind immediately since Pony was literally on fire. I firmly think that when Dallas ran into the church he didn't have any plan other than to get the other two out no matter what, even if it meant sacrificing himself. Remember, Johnny is Dallas' living embodiment of hope, he cannot see anything happen to him, and like the rest of the gang Dallas is protective of Ponyboy- he also is gallant to an extent, Johnny wasn't wrong about that.

So Dally gets hit in the back with a burning beam and he gets rushed to the hospital and then he dies. Now, Dallas Winston doesn't do anything by halves and that includes dying. Since Johnny and Pony are with him in the hospital he dies a lot sooner than Johnny, maybe even before the rest of the gang gets there. Ponyboy's reunion with his brothers is made more emotional with Dallas gone, and Johnny- well, Johnny could go one of two ways.

In canon verse we see Johnny commit to staying gold- or at least not dying with hate- but this commitment only comes after he's accepted his death is imminent. While it's possible seeing Dally die would bring about the same realization as in canon- especially in a universe where Dally's death is less violent than it canonically was- one must remember that Dally was Johnny's hero. He looked up to him immensely, above anyone else, and had faith in Dallas that no one else did. I think seeing Dally's heroic act being the cause of his death might make Johnny think that maybe Dally had the right idea being cold and cruel and mean. Maybe he sees that and then goes to the rumble and enjoys the feeling of kicking the socs asses because he knows Dally would have loved it too. Maybe he sees Ponyboy, sick and weak, delirious after being kicked in the head, fighting through nightmares and horrified by Dally's death and a piece of him hardens. Maybe he sees Steve cry and Soda holding him up, watches Darry identify the body of someone else he cared about, sees Two-bit turn back to his bottle, and maybe he makes a decision. Maybe Johnny sees the east side and all that it does and thinks maybe Dally had the right of it, maybe it is better to be harsh and cruel, maybe it means he can take care of Pony and the rest of the gang better, maybe if he's colder everyone will stop treating him like a victim and maybe he can stop feeling like one.

I think the story could end with Dally's death and Johnny becoming exactly like him and it would change the themes but it wouldn't change the message too much if that makes sense? Like, it would still hammer home the ideas of cycles of violence and that people are people, and it's their choices that define them- but it would change the characters inexorably.

Thanks for the ask!

[galgali]

just gonna answer all of these bc i want to hope that's cool

like everyone else my favorite episode is 25 😔 (special shoutout to the last ten minutes of episode 37 though that is one of the best show endings i've ever seen in my life)

like rem. i'd be all over that

honestly for a while

i want to answer this but the opposite way-- i think kabru from dungeon meshi would thrive in death note skjfgdfjg (and light would make a great trigun villain)

sooo many (death note is a comedy) but probably the funniest sequence to me in the whole thing is when they're at school and light calls misa to get L's name and is incredibly smug and maniacal about it and then L picks up the phone

first one of course

light 😔

GOD.... WHY DID I ALMOST TEAR UP AT L'S DEATH EVEN WHEN I KNEW THAT WOULD HAPPEN FOR OVER A DECADE... THAT WAS CRAZY

my FAAAAVORITE light yagami song is bird song by florence + the machine. it's so so so so him it's crazy i can't believe there's not a billion amvs of it

matsuda OBVIOUSLY. also naomi and honestly L like that would be so funny

omg the end of the yotsuba arc where everyone on the task force starts touching the death note and everyone can see the shinigami was crazy i loved how that was done. but also as someone who somehow was not spoiled on what misa's actual role is and only knew her as "light's girlfriend or something" for 12 years, finding out that she also has a death note was surprising and so cool!

read the hinterland doctrine NOW. YES ALL 700K. CLEAR YOUR SCHEDULE AND DO IT RIGHT NOW.

i'm clinically insane over lawlight sorry. also a big remisa fan though

adult sayu....? i guess....? 😭

oh ABSOLUTELY matsuda obviously but also deeply ryuk. i'm also here to laugh at everything, go "oh you're crazy crazy" to light yagami, and pester people to feed me my favorite food

the entirety of light's warehouse speech because the voice acting for it is insanely good, and especially the "who else could have done it and come this far?" line

literally how shinigami use the death note. which is crazy because that's the whole premise but i feel like that's so weirdly unexplained?? like ryuk says that shinigami are doing fuckall in their realm and not even killing humans anymore but isn't being reaped by a shinigami how humans die? clearly people were still dying like normal before light got the note?? we never see any shinigami do "regularly scheduled" death note kills at all so HOW is ANY of this working

PERIWINKLEEEEEEE ☺️ (also they do in the jdrama! misa's is red it's so cute)

CUNTY! i'd need some strappy goth fit that could also double as charli xcx concert clothing

SALT AND VINEGARRRRR

other than some stupid posts here and there, the one i'm currently working on is a fic where L uses the death note and i'm very pleased with the idea... time will tell if i do anything with it

that mello and near are meant to represent L's two halves-- emotion and logic respectively

the rain/foot scene in the anime, but the entire blue scene in the jdrama. god. i'm not over that. there's soooo much you can read into for both of those scenes

misa of courseeee

episode 2 :') episode 1 was already fun but episode 2 was where it REALLY grabbed me. i LOVED seeing the set-up of light versus L and how the lind l. tailor thing + the resulting SCATHING call-out that followed played out. i was just having so, so, so much fun with it and continued to have a lot of fun with it

my favorite character is unfortunately light so everything bad that happened to him i was cheering for and he deserved it buuuuut if i had to pick a saddest thing to happen. i really adore everything about his death and there is something undeniably tragic about the scene where he runs past the vision of his younger self. i love that light, corrupted beyond belief, bleeding out and running away like a coward, has to face the memory of who he was before he ruined himself forever, and has to face just how much he's fallen and lost everything. it's incredibly cathartic for the audience to see light finally have to recognize that he's failed beyond redemption, even minutes before his death

💀🪽🥱->📕🌏->📕👦-> 💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇱🤔->🇱👦->🇱🔗👦->🏳️‍🌈❓->👦🫱📕->⌚🖊️->🇱💀->👦🥳->👦🪦💃->💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀💀->🇳➕Ⓜ️🟰💀🪽🖊️👦📕->👦💀->🥳

oh my godddd picking just one is so hard when death note honestly has some of my favorite official art of anything ever. i just love the style of it, the colors, and the imagery used. so i'll just use a recent favorite which is:

29. THE 2015 JDRAMA.... i jokingly call it death note stampede because it feels like a remix of the source material in a similar way as trigun stampede, but as with stampede, i also really love it. for the most part the differences it makes are pretty interesting and i think it stands really well on its own. while i love how unapologetically evil canon light is i also love how tortured light is in this one and how much desperation is in his relationship with L. it's a fascinating take on death note! (and in many ways, a much more cohesive one) also a huge fan of the musical though

30. REM.... i love her so much. i would say naomi but i've yet to read the bb case (SORRY I WILL I PROMISE). also kiyomi had such fascinating potential but o&o are too misogynist to do anything about it 🥲 the pattern here is just female characters.

Favorite chapter/episode?

If you had a Death Note, what would you want your Shinigami to look like?

How long do you think you could get away with hiding a Death Note?

If your favorite character weren’t in Death Note, what anime/manga do you think they would thrive in?

A scene that makes you laugh.

Which is your favorite opening?

Your favorite kira?

The death that affected you the most.

What song(s) fit the vibe of your favorite character?

A character you would hang out with irl.

What moment surprised you the most?

What is a fanwork (edit, fic, art, etc.) that you still think about to this day? (Pls link to the original!)

Favorite ships?

What character do you think you look the most like?

Which character’s personality do you relate to?

A line from the series that stuck with you.

A question that was never answered, but you wonder about all the time.

If Death Notes came in different colors, what color would yours to be?

What would be your staple kira catching outfit?

Favorite potato chip flavor?

A Death Note fanwork that you’ve made and are proud of.

A favorite Death Note theory.

Your favorite interaction.

Who do you think had the best style?

At what point did you fall in love with Death Note?

Saddest moment for your favorite character.

Lay out the plot of Death Note using only emojis.

Favorite official art.

Favorite Death Note Spin off media.

A character that needs to be mentioned more.  

[feather-dancer]

Tales of Arcadia fanfic recommendations part 8

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7

If at all interested in my own writing you can find it here! Several of my own are currently getting scrubbed for improvement to make them more readable. Currently goal is for all of Spotlight being completed by the end of the year.

Been a while huh? This has still been sitting in my drafts though even when my brain decided “Nope not reading” for a while. Still got quite a hefty backlog to read through along with authors I’m subscribed to for their most recent works as and when they pop up. Regardless, determined to get back on top of it and unearth things I want to give a shoutout to because it’s cool shit :)

To you, fans past and present and surviors of RotT Tales of Arcadia fandom.

General Tales of Arcadia

But Everything Hurts - You don’t come back from death with a free pass and Douxie’s fall from the castle cost was chronic pain for an immortal’s lifetime. He was told to learn how to live once, now it is learning to manage.

Of Hunger Pains and Old Habits - Food is hard when you’ve spent a very young life without it until life takes a strange turn and it becomes plentiful. Died in habits are hard though, Douxie will hear the unconvinced whispers for the rest of his life.

almost there - When Jim heads off until the Darklands alone Toby and Claire try to hold themselves together not knowing if he’ll ever return. This is set post season 1 and is wonderfully bittersweet.

Our Little Viginette - Moppet faces the end of an era with the fall of Camelot and (Temporary) loss of Merlin after the Battle of Killahead.

A way to cope - Jim pretends to cope with the trauma of being in the Darklands a lot better than he actually is, as long as he keeps the breakdowns out of sight then nobody can worry right?

dandelion eyes - In which Bellroc discovers the concept of nail polish.

Adieu - The final moments of Angor Rot

Saudade - It’s perfect. They beat Gunmar, nobody died and he can finally enjoy being a teenager again, Thinks Jim. Then why if he stops ignoring the feeling for even a few seconds does it all seem so hollow...?

Rise of the Titans

The Last Changeling - Jim escaped the timeline filled with mistakes in hopes of making things right. He didn’t account for those left behind to grieve or the changeling that suddenly found himself as the last.

I Can't Pull the Sword From the Stone - Jim went back and now Toby is the new Trollhunter which should be smooth sailing right? Except history is refusing to repeat it’s self exactly, little elements are already changing and Jim’s experiences have left him tainted with magic he can’t control along with all the memories and traumas. It’s hard to grieve for someone who is technically still alive but everything you had is gone without a soul out there to understand.

More is all you need - Jim has gone back, something stupid by his own admittance, however in sorting through his thoughts he comes to a realisation.

Stricklake

Comes Around - Post Trollhunters season 3, it’s a struggle to figure out what to do when you have a cradlestone full of babies and a changeling that no longer is but you have to just try and muddle through somehow... Perhaps a chance to try figure out what your relationship is meant to be too now things have calmed down a bit.

Media Consumption - Wholesome fluff that also involves Wally and creating an addict to the HtTyD franchise early on.  

A Measure of Intellect - The goblins are breaking into the stricklake household and they’ve already stolen the blender. The fun part is figuring out exactly what they’re up to. Related to Media Consumption.

enough - Figuring out a normal in the mundane of after everything has happened is quite a lot for a jaded changeling. Very fluffy.

The Wild Hunt - Letting your troll boyfriend hunt is good enrichment but the prize for capture is even better.

The Armour of Daylight - A little glimpse into a high fantasy world where everyone might just be a little bit cursed.

The School Of Janus - This is an AU while also being Stricklake so it lives here. The Darklands are the most prestigious educational process in the world according to their promo material and Jim is prepping to head there while putting off most of his packing as long as humanly possible. Good thing he does really the banter is delightful.

Ink Stains - An AU making an escape in the name of shipping again. Here Barbara married into court politics with her husband being an heir for Camelot and changelings are a secret guard force protecting those important hiding away in plain sight. Incredibly cool world building going on here.

Keen Swimmers 2023 - A collection from last year mostly in AU territory and very tasty. Read the summaries and off you go!

Special Delivery - Very short and sweet, if you’re interested in the ship just trust me and click it.

Locked Rooms - Barbara lost her memory. She doesn’t know how and she doesn’t really know why either. All she does know is that whatever they are seem to be behind a locked door and that strange imagery is leaking into her dreams.

Alternate Universe

Dig your eight graves - It was only supposed to be a fun trek out for Halloween for the Arcadia kids, test out the set up and give feedback so the owner could improve them for when it would officially open the next year. Nobody could have predicted how it’d go so horribly wrong.

Content warning: This fic is marked Mature for character death, body horror, desecration of corpses and for being of the general slasher genre. Please check the tags before proceeding.

Between Daylight and Darkness - The Sunshine AU is back and it’s time for the team to go Trollhunting.So how many spanners can Jim being the nearest equivilent to a were-troll throw into the works of canon? Well hopefully nothing fatal...

Toby's Appointment - Sometimes you need to read very silly things and this is probably the funniest possibility you could find in the dentist waiting room.

The Grave of the Felled Forest - A boy and his familiar go to check out Merlin’s places of power/various stash spots to make sure all is still well. They are not anticipating visitors or his intent to be poked. Part of The Heart of Janus AU.

[shady-tavern]

A Dash of Villainy within a Hero, Part One

Some warning ahead for attempted kidnapping, non-con drug use (not on the main character) and attempted murder, as well as being stuck under a collapsed building in the beginning, please take care of yourselves.

Edit because I'm a forgetful gremlin: This story was inspired by one of the prompts @entrophiceffects sent in. Thank you for that!

***

In all honesty, being stuck under a collapsed building with a villain was rather high on your 'would like to avoid' list, though it was just a tick above 'being stuck under a building alone'. At least you had your mandated mask with you to avoid breathing in anything bad.

Sadly, you weren't stuck with a two-bit villain or a newbie or someone you could have brushed aside. Instead, you were forced to try and keep your distance – as much as the small space allowed – to Madness.

Madness was a very dangerous, very high profile villain. The sort of villain that came with a file big enough to commit murder with. The sort of villain no hero was supposed to take on alone.

You stared at him as he shifted restlessly, the pocket the two of you were in just big enough for him to stand up. Neither of you dared to move much though, and you had to admit you had never seen the villain as tense as he was now.

Madness had never once bothered with a mask or helmet like other villains and heroes. He had always blatantly displayed his face, though no one had been able to find out anything about him either. Not his name or place of birth, not even a damn picture anywhere in any records.

If he ever went shopping he did so without being seen.

His face, right now, was a rigid grimace of badly suppressed fear and you had no idea if he had some sort of claustrophobia or if he was scared of the building collapsing the rest of the way. Which, fair enough.

The only reason you weren't visibly freaking out yourself was that your best friend was right outside. Song was guaranteed to have left to go get help, which meant you just had to avoid doing anything that would disrupt the fragile stillness of the space around you. 

You just had sit tight and wait and not think about the building that could finish collapsing at any moment. Deep down, you hoped it would at least be a fast death.

So you hid your shaking hands by pressing them against your slightly trembling thighs and you forced your breathing to remain slow and steady despite your fearfully pounding heart. The way The Defenders taught all their heroes to handle themselves if they were ever stuck somewhere dangerous and had to wait for help.

It was weird, though. The building would have never crumbled had your fellow hero Quake not misaimed his powers. Which was strange, like all heroes Quake had gotten thoroughly trained by The Defenders to ensure he had his powers perfectly under control. They were meant to rescue civilians after all, not endanger them. Or each other.

That Madness had gotten caught in the line of fire had been...unfortunate, to put it mildly. Or maybe Quake had aimed for him in the first place and had just...what, overlooked you?

You had to admit that you didn't like Quake very much. He was clearly interested in your best bud Song and was trying to flirt with her. Song found him nice enough without being interested in more, but something about him rubbed you the wrong way. 

Or maybe you were just a bit of a jealous twat, since he never wanted you around whenever he talked to your best friend.

"Sit down," you said after watching Madness twitch again. "Take a deep breath."

Madness' gaze snapped to you, sharp and dangerous as always. "What, are you worried I'm going to do something inadvisable?" Ho boy, he was high strung. Not that you could blame him.

The truth was, you didn't really worry about him lashing out. While you had absolutely no defenses against Madness' powers – barely anyone did – you actually had the upper hand in the current situation. 

If Madness made you go, well, mad, you were liable to disrupt the space around you and kill the both of you by making this pocket cave in. You, on the other hand, only needed one touch and he'd be out like a light.

"I'm not worried about you," you said, trying to aim for reassuring and ending up sounding just a little tense and annoyed instead. 

It was hard to sound nice and sweet and calming while being stuck under tones of concrete and steel and glass and wood. Besides, this was a man who had left plenty of your colleagues recovering from severe injuries. You weren't really interested in being nice to him of all people.

Madness raised a brow and studied you for a second, seemingly distracted from his intense tension for a moment. "Curious. I would have thought you heroes would pick fights no matter what. Even when it's ill advised."

You frowned at him. "Says the man who messes with anyone's head." Just this morning, before this entire awful situation, he had brought his powers down on an entire street, causing mindless panic and mayhem among civilians.

"Temporarily," he said with a careless shrug. "Oh, don't look at me like that. It's not like they'll remember the nightmares I put into their heads once they snap out of it."

While that was true, people never remembered why they had screamed their heads off and ran away in a blind panic, they still got hurt. Madness might not break minds, but he certainly caused his fare share of broken bodies. 

It was nothing but dumb luck that people hadn't yet run into traffic in their mad, uncontrollable fear and desperation. Either that or he was calculating enough that the chance of such injury was low. Low but never impossible.

"But people do get hurt," you pointed out. 

Madness smiled and it looked more like a baring of teeth. "Isn't that what heroes are for," he said sarcastically. "Saving all these innocents."

Dark anger sparked to life like the sudden fall of a hammer onto hot iron. It spread sharp and fast and you had always been bad at holding back when someone pissed you off. Song was always the one to either intervene or soften you back down from the jagged edges that rose to coat your tongue whenever you got furious.

"I don't want to always be saving people," you snapped out and for just a brief second Madness looked surprised and taken aback. "I don't want to clean up your messes just because you decided to be an asshole."

"Then why be a hero?" Madness asked, shifting to adjust his stance, the tension in his body ramping up. He was ready for a fight. "If you don't care."

"I do care," you answered with growing anger, words hard and fast, like an animal snapping its teeth. "But don't you dare push the responsibility of your actions onto me." 

You were ready to act yourself, as stupid as it was to fight here, but the anger bit deeper and sharper, spilling out all the words you wished you could say when days were dark and grim. When villains gloated and blamed and gaslit and did anything but take responsibility.

When Song didn't get out of bed, fighting with lingering pain after a villain had shattered both her legs and it had taken both multiple surgeries and heroes with healing powers to get her walking again. When you wanted to shout at people to stop being at each other's throat. To stop making their quarrels your problem by targeting innocents.

A muscle in Madness' jaw ticked and his pale violet eyes became a dark lavender, his power suddenly heavy and cloying in the air. 

"And yet you heroes insist on carrying the world on your shoulders," he sneered, voice growing low with his own anger. "You meddling, self-righteous pricks. Maybe you should have thought about what you are actually capable of before you took up the mantle."

"And you don't get to be a piece of shit and walk away saying 'oh, but I only was shitty because you didn't stop me'." You even ended up doing a mock-low voice as you snarled back at him, your voice coming out with an intensity you had only ever been capable of in emergencies.

Madness lifted his chin, looking ready to throw hands, when there was the grind of concrete and both of you fell silent, nervously watching the ceiling. He coughed as some more dust rained down between the cracks, grimacing at whatever taste was coating his tongue.

You had a spare mask, every hero did, but you didn't particularly want to hand it over. Not to him, not to this asshole. But Song would.

Taking a deep breath that came out more like an aggravated sigh, you grudgingly reached into your back pocket and pulled out the spare mask. 

You knew Song would have offered it to Madness right away, but she was always the better one between the two of you. There was a reason why she was your anchor and lodestone. Your compass when your mind grew dark and your heart wavered. When you felt like you couldn't trust yourself to keep doing the good thing.

When, for once, you wanted to pay back every inch or hurt you and your friend had to endure. When you wanted to take your pound of flesh from the villains, instead of having it ripped from your mind and body by them.

You would never agree with others that being a hero meant sacrificing, meant burdening yourself and living only to rescue and protect others. And you would most certainly never bend and concede to villains.

"Here," you tossed the mask at Madness, who caught it with the sort of startled expression that told you he had expected something dangerous. You didn't bother hiding the way you rolled your eyes. "Now sit down and play tic-tac-toe with me, asshole."

"What." It came out flat, but he did put the mask on and once you folded your legs to sit cross-legged, he ever so slowly did the same.

You drew a little grid into the dust and after an incredulous look, Madness caved. It became obvious very quickly that both of you were competitive assholes and you upgraded from tic-tac-toe to checkers with little pebbles and at last chess.

You were shoddy at chess though and no challenge, so you went back to checkers. You were on your tenth round when there was a rumble in the air. You easily recognized the sort of shift in gravity and density that heralded telekinetic powers and you breathed a sigh of relief. Help had come.

At the same time, there was a dull whirring sound from below. A moment later, the ground shifted beside Madness and very slowly and very carefully, a little robot dug its way out.

"Found you!" the robot exclaimed with a voice you could identify easily enough as Doctor's. Huh, you hadn't known the two villains were allies. "Come on, let's get out of here."

"Is that safe?" Madness asked and the robot made a little pffft noise, already burrowing back into the hole. It was frighteningly fast in widening it far enough for a person of Madness' stature to squeeze through like a worm. 

"I'll drag you," the robot said cheerfully, small arms extending to grab Madness around the collar. "Let's go!"

"Bye," Madness managed to say as he was pulled into the hole. Just in time as well, for the rubble shifted, power humming in the air, creating an opening for you to duck through.

You hurriedly left the space behind and the second you emerged from that little pocket, strong arms wound around you, crushing you against a soft chest and tough armor, while big wings wrapped around you.

"Hey, Nightingale," you said quietly into her shoulder, hugging her back just as tightly, breathing a sigh of relief. Your voice came out trembling, "Knew you'd get me out."

"Always," she answered and hid you with her wings until all the repressed fear and worry and tension shivered out of you. Since she didn't usher you into an alley or anything of the sort for privacy, no one was around to ask why the two of you were hugging for such a long time.

When at last you pulled back, she asked, "What happened to Madness? Did he hurt you?"

"No, he got away," you said, which was true enough. You cast her a look that told her you'd tell her everything later and she threw an arm over your shoulders, one of her wings coming up to curl around you. 

Her wings were beautifully big, arching over her head and each one was easily as large as she was. She always kept them tight to her spine when she was walking outside, to avoid the ends trailing in the dirt. That was why the two of you kept your shared apartment very clean so she could relax at home at least. 

She led you out from the rubble sheltered corner and you saw that only one other hero was around. Gravitos, who must have been the one to dig you out. She was on her phone, talking to The Defenders, you'd guess, saying that no one else was in the area and that crews could arrive to clean up and clear the street.

"You good?" she asked and when you nodded, offered a small smile. "I'm glad. Man, but Quake is lucky the building was closed for renovations. Otherwise we'd have a lot of deaths on our hands."

Which would most likely cost Quake his Defender contract and official hero license. You still had no idea if he had planned to hit the building like that, but either way, the way he had used his powers had been negligent at best.

Gravitos accompanied you back to The Defenders headquarter, the large hero hiring company where pretty much everyone was under contract. It was for the best really, the company protected heroes from lawsuits – unless it was proven they acted maliciously – and offered all the gear, gadgets and medical care they needed.

After a quick check-in in the med bay and debrief with your superior, you were ready to get out of costume and go home. Song didn't leave your side, staying close enough that you felt the brush of her wing every so often. It was reassuring and calming. 

If she strayed too far, you suddenly felt the weight of the building around you and you felt fear seize your heart again. You just wanted to go home, where no one would look at you. No one would stare and judge and you could sit outside. Maybe even sleep outside tonight.

"Nightingale!" Quake's voice made the two of you pause and you felt a fissure of irritated tension wrapping around your spine. Quake was friendly and, well, fine, but something about him irked you endlessly. Aside from burying you under ruble, that was.

He offered Song a charming, hopeful smile and while you would never hold her back from a date, she wasn't interested and you hoped he'd get the memo one of these days. Besides, he had once said that he found it weird that you two were such good friends.

'It's almost like you're more than that,' he had once said. As if friendships couldn't be just as meaningful as romantic relationships.

Song was your family and she had been your best friend since her first day in middle school. After moving to the city and being the pretty, tall, winged new girl, she could have had any friend she wanted, but the second she had seen you being bullied, she had taken your side.

You still vividly remembered the large wings, arching to shield you and force your bullies to back up or get whacked in the head, feathers fluffing to make her look even bigger.

No one had ever stood up for you, but here she was, defending you with unyielding ferocity. She had remained at your side afterwards, one wing always slightly extended and for the first time, you didn't have to worry about anyone tossing anything at your back.

And there she had stayed throughout the day and there she had been the next day and before you had known it, you had your first proper friend since kindergarten. Elementary school had been fine, but you hadn't really clicked with any of the kids there and middle school had swiftly become your waking nightmare.

Until Song and her steadfast loyalty and fierce friendship. The two of you had stuck together through anything and everything and you were a package deal. Both of you had made sure to haggle for team contracts when The Defenders had hired you.

Besides, while Song was fast and strong, her true power laid in her voice. She was one of the few who could go up against Madness' abilities, but she needed a little bit of time for her voice to unfold fully. 

Which was where you came in. You were fast and maybe you were a bit vicious and mean when it came to villains. You ensured nothing and no one interrupted her, that she wouldn't have to worry about protecting her own back.

Besides, if people focused on Song, they forgot to focus on you and you had possibly smirked a bit too much when you had taken those folks out. It wasn't your fault they forgot that, while Song could sing an entire street asleep, you needed but a touch to knock people out or leave them unable to fight with your electricity.

One of Song's wings arched to settle around you again as she stared down Quake. "Sorry, Quake, we're on our way out. Besides, I think you owe my friend an apology."

He suddenly looked chagrinned and bashful. "Sorry," he muttered at you. You couldn't help but think that he didn't really mean it. Then again, you were too tired to go and pick a fight, so you just hummed something that could be vaguely interpreted as acceptance.

Quake immediately turned back to Song. "I just wanted to ask if you'd like to meet up later."

So he was finally asking her out directly. It was a surprise that he had waited that long, considering is somewhat brash personality, but maybe he was just a little shy when it came to romance. Or Song intimidated him, she could be just as brash in return after all.

"Sorry, no," Song said, wing settling more firmly around you, surrounding you in warmth and softness and the familiar scent of fresh air and sunshine.

"The weekend, then?" Quake asked hopefully and Song shook her head, not even pretending to think about it. You almost felt bad for him. Almost.

"No, thank you," she said more firmly and you saw his smile flicker, before he shrugged, pretending to be unaffected.

"You know where to find me if you change your mind," he said and quickly stepped back, leaving with a wave.

Song gently pushed you onward with her wing. "I was hoping he'd give up on his own. Come on, let's go home."

Song ordered some takeout on the way home, which arrived a couple of minutes after you finally were back in your cozy apartment. It was bigger than most people would consider necessary for two people, but Song's wings needed space and you didn't want her to feel cramped. 

Besides, a hero's salary at your level was nothing to sneeze at, so you might as well get a place where you both could stretch out and be comfortable.

You spent the evening on the couch with her, sheltered under a big, warm wing and your comfort movies playing on TV one after another.

"Madness was stuck with me," you ended up mumbling as, at last, you felt your exhaustion catch up with you. "He was an asshole."

"No surprise there," Song said and you slumped a bit more against her side, your head on her shoulder. "How did he get out?"

"Doctor came for him," you murmured, eyes falling shut. "Didn't know they got along."

If she answered, you didn't hear her as you swiftly fell asleep. You did have nightmares, but every time you woke up, gasping for air and terrified to see a building crumbled above you with the heavy weight of impending death, there were soft, warm wings. 

You clung to the feathers and slowly calmed back down. Song wasn't holding you, but she was close and snoring softly, both wings wrapped loosely around you. They'd be sore in the morning, but you felt helplessly glad that she was here. Keeping you safe in whatever ways she could.

*.*.*

Quake, while having gotten the message that Song wasn't interested, now seemed intent to at least be Song's friend.

Just hers, though, not yours.

You only realized what Quake was successfully trying to do when you started to back off the moment he showed up, giving them space to chat. It was clear he didn't much like you. Song started to frown a little whenever she noticed you leaving, a wing getting extended as an invitation for you to stay.

Frowning to yourself, you wondered if you were too clingy. It wasn't like you spent every day, all day with Song, but you were a team out in the field, which was perfectly normal. There were other duos or even trios or bigger teams that never switched their members out.

"Hey," Song approached you just as you got ready to clock out and head home a month after the collapsed building incident. "Would you mind waiting? Quake said there is a problem with some of the ceiling panels in the training room. Two fell down and one nearly nailed a training newbie in the head." 

She pointedly flexed her wings. "I'll take a look and check if any others are liable to fall, so the training hall can still be used until someone can come in to fix them."

You would have waited for her any other day, but the two of you were low on groceries and depending on how long this took her, the stores might be closed by the time you went home. "I'll head out first and get our fridge stocked back up," you said. "Anything you want for dinner?"

She perked up at that since she hated cooking, but you loved it. "Anything you want. Your food is amazing." Your friend had let you know more than once that she would fully support you if you wanted to switch careers from heroism to being a chef.

"This shouldn't take me too long, hopefully," she said and with a brush of the tip of her flight feathers against your shoulder, she was gone.

You left swiftly and you were already two streets away from the hero headquarters, when you realized you had left your phone in the locker room. Groaning, you turned around and trudged back towards the building.

Instead of taking the main doors and dealing with people you took a side entrance, swiping your card to be let in. The side entrance was usually reserved for people who wanted to avoid attention, especially paparazzi attention.

Quietly slipping through the hallways, you took some backdoors and an old staircase to avoid running into any of your colleagues. You just wanted to dip in, grab your phone and get out without anyone stopping you along the way.

There were plenty of heroes who didn't hesitate to ask others for help with their paperwork. You could freely admit that most of your colleagues sucked at the whole bureaucracy part of the job. 

There were always a couple of heroes stuck in their offices after hours, despairing over documents. Everyone who was done for the day or, god forbid, was actually good at paperwork, learned to get out of dodge fast.

Your quiet path brought you past the communication room and you tip-toed to avoid distracting the people inside accepting calls and alerting heroes about any disturbances or attacks that needed dealing with.

"Dispatching Quake and Nightingale," you overheard a voice say and you paused. "They are taking care of a minor disturbance."

Your nose wrinkled, feeling sorry for Song. That's what happened to anyone who didn't clock out in time. Though, in all fairness, if there was an emergency or a all-hands-on-deck situation, then everyone was called in, no matter what.

You snuck away, lest these guys noticed you and thought you could be dispatched too. You'd make sure to prepare a big dinner for your friend once she came home. You reached the locker room and got your phone without running into a single soul.

You were sneaking down the hall again to leave when you heard a heavy thump and grunt. One of the doors to a small break room was tossed open a moment later.

"Fuck, didn't know she'd be that heavy," a too familiar voice hissed. Quake. Pausing, you frowned and a bad feeling unfolded its wings in your gut. The same bad feeling that had helped you avoid villain attacks in the past. The sort of sixth sense pretty much every hero developed pretty early on.

Shouldn't Quake be heading out? Furthermore, shouldn't Song be with him?

You ducked closer to the wall, just as Quake stepped through the door backwards – dragging your unconscious friend with him. He was grunting and struggling, a wing catching in the doorframe and your heart leapt into your throat. You were moving without much thought and before he could notice you.

All it took was a charged touch to the back of his neck and he went limp, slumping down silently. You caught him and winced as Song fell from his limp arms.

"What the fuck," you whispered, hoisting him over your shoulder to deposit him off to the side. You were quickly checking Song, finding her breathing and heart rate steady. A glance into the room showed two glasses on a side-table, one empty the other mostly full.

Had...had Quake laced her drink? No, surely not. He was a hero. Then again...being a hero didn't mean people couldn't be massive pieces of shit. There had been scandals in the past, after all.

You heard more steps approach from the old, rarely used staircase and you were about to shout for help, when you heard a voice speak up, "He should have waited until she agreed to let him give her a lift home and he had her in his car. How are we supposed to get her to the underground garage with those fucking wings?"

What the fuck was going on here?

You hoisted Song up and back through the door just in time to close it as people rounded the corner.

"Song? Come on, wake up," you hissed, lightly zapping her, but she didn't react. Shit, she really was drugged.

You stared down at your best friend and realized that you had no way of dragging her away before that door got opened by the people outside. Song was heavy, for one. You only came up to her shoulder and she was muscular from long hours of training and flying and her wings were heavy too. 

Each wing was as big as she was after all, and right now they were slumped, lying half open. Just alone getting her through a door would take minutes.

Of course you had trained until you were strong enough to drag her anywhere in an emergency and you knew how to deal with her wings when they were flopping all over the place, but that didn't mean it was a particularly fast process.

Mind made up, you swiftly laid her down her beside the door and hid on the other side. The door opened, swinging in your direction and you had ducked around it and had gotten your hands on the two newcomers before they could spot you or call out.

They thudded to the ground and you stared down at two people you had never seen before. They were not fellow heroes.

Pulling them fully inside and ducking outside to get Quake, you left them tied up and muzzled. They'd be out for a bit, but it was better to be safe than sorry. Rooting through their pockets, you found no ID, but a general keycard for the Defenders building, along with a phone on Quake.

Pocketing that, you went back to Song, gripping her and dragging her outside. You were covered in sweat by the time you managed to, ever so carefully, pull her down the stairs and past the communication hub.

You got Song all the way outside the building and into an alley unnoticed, panting heavily. Your first instinct was to bring her home, but...what was going on here? What if your home wasn't safe anymore? Hissing a curse, you pulled out the phone you had nicked from Quake and opened it.

The instructions you found on it were chilling.

Quake had tried to kill you when he had collapsed a building onto you. Quake was to isolate Nightingale if he didn't succeed in killing you, drug her and contact this number once she was down for the count. 

Quake had done so, which was when the communication center had gotten the message that they were sent out to deal with a problem. Communications never questioned orders if they came from high up, but only then.

Nightingale was to be handed over and this device destroyed. Quake was to head to the spot where the fake mission was supposed to take place and plant all the necessary evidence, as well as blow enough things sky high, that people believed Nightingale had died. 

That they had run into a new, too powerful villain unexpectedly. 

It was recommended to kill you first if possible, so no one would question the story. So no one would look into it any further.

You stared at the phone in complete and utter disbelief. Your mind was blank and still for a long second, then something ugly and panicked rose. Something angry.

You pulled out your own phone, snapping pictures of the conversation, of the instructions, before closing your fingers around the burner phone and frying it so viciously it started to catch fire. Dropping it to the ground, you hoisted Song up again and started dragging her further.

You could not return home, but that didn't mean there weren't other spots you could hunker down in. You hotwired a car in a camera-free zone two streets from the headquarters and stuffed Song in, wincing at the cramped space for her wings. There was a reason she had never bothered with getting a license.

By the time you had Song safely in a little hiding spot the two of you had scouted out a year ago, you were exhausted and your mind had run over everything at least a million times. You watched her closely for any signs that something would go wrong as she laid on her side, wings a bit awkwardly draped.

Something was going on here. Something big and bad and it itched at you to go back and find out more. To question Quake.

When Song stirred, you felt ready to sag in relief and maybe cry a little, but instead the anger amped up a bit. When her eyes peeled open, you were perhaps crackling a little, so charged with electricity that you didn't dare touch her.

"What?" Song slurred and you leaned into her view, her tense expression immediately easing with visible relief.

"Take it easy," you said when she slowly managed to sit up, shifting her wings and nearly knocking one into you. Then her eyes widened and you saw the moment memory flooded back. Her gaze snapped up to you, alarmed and horrified and confused and you pressed your lips together grimly for a moment.

"I think something very bad is going on, Song."

*.*.*

See, most people probably wouldn't go straight back to The Defenders headquarters, but neither Song or you were normal. No hero was, you had all lost your sense for normal levels of danger long ago.

Song was landing on the roof, gliding down the last bit to make the descend silent and smooth. She knew exactly which part of the roof was a camera dead zone.

"Be careful," she whispered, reluctantly pulling back. Song was great at an amazing number of things and you loved her for that, but her wings were not made for sneaking around. She was just too big. "I'll stay close by, so don't hesitate to jump out of a window if necessary."

In case someone caught you, she didn't say. You squeezed her arms before stepping back and she took flight again, while you zapped the keycard pad at the door, carefully controlled, which caused it to swing open.

You were so glad you had trained and trained a stupid amount of hours to be able to do that.

The good part was, accessing the building from the roof meant you were closest to the offices of the higher ups. And someone there had to be involved, in order to inform communications about sending heroes out without consulting them first.

Imagine your surprise, therefore, when you slipped through the door into an ostentatious hallway and you saw a very familiar person skulking about. You had no idea how Madness of all people had made it into the hero headquarters, but he was either going to be a problem or...perhaps you could work together.

Just this once and no more, he was an asshole after all.

He was distracted enough that you actually managed to sneak up to him and when he did notice, you were close enough to press a hand to his back. A silent warning, to keep his powers well away from you. Considering the way he tensed all of a sudden, his muscles flexing beneath your palm, he got the message.

"Not sounding the alarm, hero?" he sneered down at you and you realized belatedly that the moment you'd open your mouth, he'd know exactly who you were. ...well, you had already dug your grave, hadn't you?

"Tic-tac-toe," you ended up whispering back, watching his eyes widen briefly. "You don't fuck me over, I don't fuck you over, deal?"

He paused, frowning, "Why are you sneaking around in your own place of work?"

You smiled grimly. "I guess that happens when someone tries to kidnap my friend from the inside."

He stilled, his head tipping slightly to the side and it became impossible to read his face. You could only tell he was thinking rapidly from the way his gaze was flickering between your eyes.

"Alright," he conceded and you cautiously, carefully, removed your hand. His eyes remained pale though, which was a relief. Then again, if he made you go mad, he'd just blow his own cover.

"Do you know if anyone's still here?" you asked and he actually stepped aside a bit to let you sidle up beside him. Which was so weird. You knew that sometimes villains and heroes worked together briefly, but you never had.

"No," Madness whispered back. "Everyone's home as far as I know."

"Then why are we whispering?" you asked quietly and he sent you a look like he thought you were daft. You rolled your eyes and straightened from your crouch beside the wall.

You knew where the cameras were in this building, because maybe you had been involved in a little prank war last year and you had memorized all the camera positions for the sole purpose of not getting caught.

Madness seemed to have decided to stick by you, for he followed you when you wove your way through the hallway, ducking into the first office. There were six in total, each double the size of your apartment, which was just ridiculous.

"Ugh, rich people," you found yourself muttering as you beelined for the desk and the computer.

The moment you sat down in the chair, Madness braced one hand on the backrest and leaned over to watch what you were doing. As the computer booted up, you reminded yourself to not be an asshole to the person willing to not rat you out.

"What are you looking for?" you asked as you were logged in. The higher ups had their passwords saved by default, it seemed. Either that or they were just lazy. And a little bit careless. "I'll help you look."

Madness was silent for a long moment, then he answered, "I'm looking for the Phoenix Project."

You had never heard of that, but you were willing to look. You found no information on either the project or Song on this computer, so you moved on to the next office.

You had to try all of the computers, before, on the very last one, you finally found something. There was one mail, exactly. It had been sent around the time Quake had contacted the person on the other end of the burner phone that he had Song drugged and ready for pickup.

And without Madness, you would have never discovered the mail. It was sent to an anonymous person, with only one sentence: 'The Phoenix has gained its wings.' Below it was the same time and place for pickup that had been on Quake's phone.

"Is that all?" Madness asked, still hushed. He sounded less than pleased. "Are you certain?" But his tone of voice said he knew this was it, he had looked over your shoulder the entire time after all.

"I think we may have to talk," you said quietly, mind whirring. There was something going on, something big. You leaned back a bit to look up at him. "What say you to a temporary truce?"

"Why?" Madness asked with an undertone of sharpness. His smile was unfriendly. "I thought you didn't like me."

You smiled back just as sharply and humorlessly. "I don't." Your mock-smile fell away. "But whatever you're looking into, they were trying to kidnap my friend and sell her as dead to the rest of the world. They tried to kill me too, back when that building collapsed, so no one would look for her."

Madness grew serious, the tense antagonism falling away. "And here I thought it was just my pretty head they wanted dead." He tipped his head again, peering down at you, weighing how honest you were. How willing he was to exchange information.

 He stepped back. "Alright. Truce." He then smirked at you. "Let's see if your cute little hero heart can take the truth."

You wondered if it was too late to snap at his throat like an enraged woverine. "We'll see if your lying villain tongue is capable of telling the truth."

His eyes narrowed and you stared back at him, once again in a stalemate where you were close enough to knock him out before he could use his powers. You knew he was the more powerful one between the two of you, normally. That he could leave you a screaming, sobbing mess and you could do nothing about it.

But right now, you had an edge you wouldn't have otherwise.

"We'll just have to see, won't we," Madness muttered back.

The sudden clack of a door opening down the hall and voices filtering in made both of you flinch. You reached out to yank out the power cord of the computer, making it go dark. 

Madness shifted beside you, looking ready to fight. "How do you plan to get us out of here?"

You tipped your head towards the window and smiled. "Afraid of heights?"

"Not in the slightest," he said, stepping back to let you stand up. He didn't look away from you and neither did you take your gaze off of him. "Why?"

You forced yourself to break eye contact and head to the window, yanking it open and hopping up onto the windowsill. You hesitated, then held out your hand.

"Are you willing to trust a hero?"

He stared at your hand, then glanced over his shoulder at the voices coming closer. It was impossible to overhear individual words, but it sounded like an argument. He looked back at you, his face impossible to read.

He didn't answer, just reached out to grasp your hand back. He allowed you to pull him close and it became a very squished situation, with both of you crouching on the windowsill. The ground was very, very far away. He was tense beside you, staring down, while you scanned the sky.

The voices in the hallway grew closer still and his tension ramped up. That was when you spotted Song ever so faintly and jumped, pulling him with you.

To his credit, he did not let go of your hand, not as you fell and not when Song swooped in to catch you, carrying you away into the night.

You were surprised that he had been willing to trust you at all and maybe, grudgingly, you respected him a bit for that. Still, you could admit that holding a villain's hand was definitely a first for you.

And, well. Maybe, just maybe, you weren't going to regret offering him a hand when it was all said and done.

Part Two

*.*.*

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[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

[oceanwithouthermoon]

i think its weird that i have to make this disclaimer but the internet is crazy so wtvr,, anyway,,

if i say i dont like something, that doesnt mean "that thing is bad and nobody should post it.."

i swear literally every time i even mention that i dislike something, people will go "wow does that mean u fucking hate me cuz i post that thing? ur a fucking stupid bitch and all ur opinions r wrong" LIKE ?? er.. no. just because i say i dont like certain characterizations of certain characters (the saiki k fandom is CRAZY about this cuz i can state an opinion on literally any character and a group of people will still go 'well only we're allowed to post our opinions about them because we're always right!1!1!'), or certain ship tropes (mentioned my hatred of toxic yaoi maybe once or twice on here months ago and people STILL get mad at me as if i said toxic yaoi lovers r evil or something), or certain ships, or WHATEVER, does not mean that i HATE the people who are posting them or that i think they shouldnt post them at all, NO, im just posting about my personal tastes on my personal blog and it would be extremely weird and hypocritical if i decided that i was the ONLY person that was allowed to do that,,

i think the only reason people assume that is because there are a lot of other people on here who ARE like that, and a lot of people toe the line between posting that they dont like something and posting that they think everyone who likes that thing is stupid, annoying, and wrong,, so i guess all i can say is, sorry for whatever made you make these assumptions but they arent true about me so plz leave me alone ʘ‿ʘ ur doing the same thing to me that ur accusing me of but i didnt do it in the first place so ur just actively being a dick for no reason

[httpiastri]

how about if... i just... don't do my work.....

[maehemthemisfit]

mae my favourite person on this whole planet who should have definitely burnt the house down by now !! aaah sometimes i don’t even know where to start? you’ve done a lot for me recently even if you didn’t intend to. i was going through such a rough patch and i was losing all my strength and wasn’t sure if i wanted to keep going. you was one of the very few people who actually checked in on me and showed concern. you listened to me and then proceeded to let me fangirl about the auroras and even after that conversation i cried happy tears because it felt so good to have someone listen to me the way you did - so thank you, especially for checking on me. i think if you hadn’t things would be very different right now.

and also my favourite detective from the dango anon evidence board !! you are so unbelievably funny and smart, i’m also head over heels for your writing, whenever i see it on my dash i just want to eat and consume it <3 you made me feel seen regarding a previous situation when i thought that i would look like a bitch when i confided in you about it and if it wasn’t for you and aly i think i’d still be in that situation today and making myself miserable.

i hope you had a fantastic birthday, little sis but your house does terrify me - 💙

STORMIKFRDMME OFFICALLY CRYING RN JMDNMRUJ YALL I- THIS- EURUFRJDEKM I just wanna hug alll of you and never let go

EUUUUUUUUUUUUGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[slimeylee]

why have these last years fucking sucked ass

[i90o3]

haii ><,, i read your pampering fic w mr crawling and i js. UGH. IM SO IN LOVEEEE 😭😭 do u do nsfw drabbles/fics 🤔 i read in ur rules you DO allow nsfw so,, could i request something nsfw abt a first time with him ><??

First Time.

context: First time with your pookie wookie bookie puppy bear.

Homicipher. mr crawling x reader. | Anypov…(?). NSFW | tw: ectoplasm c*m

Nsfw isn’t my strong suit but I have fun challenging myself, I do hope you enjoy this!

first time? ..confusing. And complicated. And clumsy. But oh.. does it feel so good.

It’s definitely a lot of build up over a couple months, like first soft pecks, then making out, slow and clumsy touches.

You have to guide his hands yourself until he gets the hang of it, but I think he’s a pretty quick learner. He’s def good with his hands (I actually think he says that in the game at some point) and his tongue.. (😜)

I’d say your on your bed making out, straddling his lap, your tongues in a heated battle with each other while his hand roams your body and his other hand is gently cupping your face. You’re starting to subtly grind against him, and he makes a chirping noise.

You can feel his erection against your thigh, and when you pull back to look at him, he’s smiling widely at you. He grabs you by the shoulders and switches your positions, pushing you down against the mattress while he hovers over you. He’s whining and chirping, rutting against your leg and wrapping his big arms around you, burying his face in to your chest. He’s so whiny and desperate for you, clawing at your clothes to try and get them off.

I saw someone say he’d be on the smaller side, but yall see how fucking tall that man is?? I def think he’s atleast 6 or 7 inches ..skinny, veiny, with a slight curve.

He’s chirping and making all sorts of noises when he finally sinks in to your wet heat, rutting so sloppily and clumsily. You jolt from how cold it is compared to your hot gummy walls, making you shiver. He has no idea really what he’s doing, but it just feels so good he can’t stop, can’t help himself. How you clench around him, how good it feels, its driving him insane. Burying his face in to your neck and wrapping his arms around you so tightly.

You can tell he’s getting close because he’s getting more vocal and his thrusts are getting even more sloppier (somehow), and you’re clawing at his back, whimpering and mewling. Your walls clench around him, milking his purple-tipped cock, cumming with a sharp cry. His hips stutter as you ride out your high, and he slips out of you, shooting his load on your tummy, rubbing his grey ectoplasm cum all over your soft skin, giggling maniacally.

After you clean yourselves up, you snuggle up to him, pulling the covers up around you both as he pats your head and you drift off to sleep on his arms.

11/11/2024. 9:38 am. @i90o3

[afterglowsainz]

Hey can I get a jealous Jude x female reader. Nothing too toxic lol l, it’s just some guys hitting y/n up on social media and somehow Jude sees the DMs and gets a little jealous. Then his petty self goes and posts a picture of him and his girlfriend on her ig or something petty like responds back with a “she’s busy bro”. Thanks 🫶🏻

jealousy | jude bellingham

obsessed with this concept already !!

summary: while you're getting ready to go out on a date with your boyfriend, he accidentally sees some dms he doesn't like and decides to do something about it

warnings: none

word count: 738

a/n: boring title booo i know i know i couldn't think of anything better :( i do hope you like the one shot tho it was fun to write about jealous jude <3

you were getting ready to go out on a date with jude while he was laying on your bed waiting for you. his phone was charging somewhere in the living room so you gave him yours to play a game so he doesn’t get bored. you were putting on your makeup while singing along to your playlist while he was building some villages or whatever it was that they do on clash royale. however, jude got distracted when an instagram dm pop up at the top of your phone, it was from this formula 1 driver that he knew was always liking your pictures, he didn’t knew he was dming you as well. he thought about opening the message, but he didn’t want to invade your privacy like that, so he simply looked at you.

“someone dm you.” he says.

his voice took you out of your little world and you place your gaze on him thought the mirror you were applying your makeup on.

“who?”

“lando norris.” he reads the name like he didn’t knew already.

“what does it say?” you hide a laugh and continue with your makeup routine.

jude opens the message and reads it out loud. it was obvious he was hitting on you by replying to a story you had posted earlier that day when you went to brunch with your friends and you felt cute.

“are you gonna answer?” he asks again, hints of jealousy on voice.

“not really, no.” you answer and go back to singing along and applying mascara on.

when jude goes back to the screen on your phone his thumb accidentally swipes left and your whole inbox is completely exposed to him. he didn’t meant to do that, but it really was an accident and he couldn’t help but see now that it was there, only he wished he didn’t have.

some of your dms were just conversations with your friends, but a lot of them were just guys replying to your stories and hitting on you, which made him even more jealous than before. you never replied to them, going as far as deleting some of the messages you received, but since you hadn’t checked your instagram since that afternoon a lot of dms from different guys complimenting you on your story were there for jude to find.

he frowns at the phone and takes a look at you, completely oblivious while doing your eyeliner. his eyes go back to the screen and he starts looking up some pictures that you took the week before of you two.

“do you mind if i post one of those pictures you took of us last week?” he asks out of nowhere. “so i can repost it on my story.” he clarifies.

you frown a bit confused because this is the first time he has asked you something like this, but after him seeing the other guy’s dm and feeling a bit jealous you connected the dots and smile amused.

“sure.” you say.

he nods and went to post a story with the two of you looking definitely like the couple you were. he spend a few seconds thinking about a good caption, landing on a simple “my boyfriend❤️”, very straight to the point. he also tagged himself big enough for everyone to see and posted the picture, a satisfied smile on his face.

when you were done with your makeup and ready to go, you approached him and sat on his lap, your phone still in his hand.

“let me see the picture.” you smiled. he shows you the story and you rolled your eyes, a bit amused at his possessiveness. “was that really necessary?” you point at the text and he just shrugs.

“i just feel like there’s a lot of people that don't know we’re together, you know? just wanna put it out there.” you nod, fighting the smile on your face and putting your arms around him.

“is that so?” you tease him, getting closer to him if that was even possible.

“yeah, lots of guys on your dms.” he confess. “they liked your selfie earlier.”

“hmm.” you answer. “i wouldn’t know about that, i only like one guy.” a treacherous smile takes over his lips and you take the opportunity to kiss him. “wanna go? we’ll be late to dinner.”

jude just nods and gets out of bed, never dropping your hand for a second.

[iwaasfairy]

┌─ “ ! „ FEARLESS, STUPID

tw. a/b/o, military au, dystopian au, noncon, threesome, heat, dumbification, double penetration, patronization/ degradation, praise kink, daddy kink, dom/sub themes, choking, anal play, a lot of spit and cum, size kink, tummy bulging, mentions of human captives, kinda forced prostitution wordcount. 9.8k

a/n. I had a lot of fun writing this one bc it’s just extremely fairycore and indulgent. heavily inspired by rhi and her incredible brain for writing the hand that feeds!!! I love that fic and have always wanted to write smt set in vaguely the same world. thank you to everyone who beta read as well I appreciate it soooo much ♡♡

geto suguru, kong shiu, fushiguro toji x fem!reader

The air is dry and cold, enough to hurt on the way in. It’s cold enough for your warm air to come back out and form droplets on your nose that drip into the snow.

Your head down, crouched in the smallest shape you can make yourself, is how you find yourself drifting in and out of focus. Not only are you cold and hungry, but it’s been long enough for the scent of smoke and ash and foul, sour fear to have started losing it’s smell. You can’t even expend the energy to move your head to the side and look, without getting tired. The crunching of the heavy boots in the snow is the only thing that’s pulling you back into it. That and the occasional clang of the line of cuffs shaking around someone’s wrists.

It’s gone quiet now.

You wonder if others have fallen asleep. You’re not far off yourself. When some commotion happens over by the gates, some of the uniformed figures rush to go look, feet kicking up snow as they go — It’s a blur of shouts and orders, before the loud hum of an armored vehicle stops not too far away. That’s all it takes to wake you up again, and despite yourself, your arms start shaking in their place behind your back. The cold of the metal radiates all through your bones.

You realize you’re scared. That’s the thumping between your ears.

“Lieutenant. Good evening, Sir.”

A soft, almost warm voice stands in stark contrast against the cold of the surroundings when the feet stop a few steps short of the kneeling row of people. “At ease, soldier.” He sounds older than some of the youthful faces you’ve seen here, dragging people around by their ankles to stuff them into loaded trucks. But not old. Not nearly old enough to carry the weight he does. “What’s all this?” the voice pivots, aimed now towards your group. A few of the women beside you uneasily shuffle in their places.

“Captives from a raid by the fifth division this morning. They interfered with the commission’s supply line when they tried to escape.”

You smell smoke with each breath. The man makes a soft humming noise, before he scans the row of kneeling people again. “So why are they still here? We have plenty of mouths to feed already.” You have seen what they do with prisoners here. Just this one, long day has shown you all you need to know. Your life will be short and unnoticed, and if you’re lucky, you won’t go through hell before you’re shot between your eyes. The cold air makes clouds in front of your face, as the steam rises above the snow into the black night. “Beta's?”

“Yes, Sir.”

You strain your neck to tilt your head up. You’re not sure why you do it. Maybe it’s the wrongful association of that voice, smooth and lithe and easy- with the pain you’ve witnessed. You don’t have much hope of making it out, and though you could beg, you’re not even sure if they see you as human enough to consider a plea a plea. Your eyes glide up the perfectly fitted suits, dark gray and gold until you find the face of the leader— and startle. Long, black hair is tied into a sloppy bun in his neck, and long bangs almost hide one eye from view.

But the eyes are striking and sharp and long lashes frame them against pale skin, and you can’t look away when his lips form the words. “So, kill them.” His cigarette burns bright orange when he takes another pull.

The younger of the two only lets out the briefest breath. “...Yes, Sir.”

The fear makes the pitched whimper get stuck in your throat, and more puffy clouds drift out of your lips when you start to shuffle in a panic. Not fight, you don’t ever fight. The man turns on his heel. And you’re not the only one, as soon cries and sniffles and the petrified glances only set you off more. Your eyes drop to the muddied, dirty patches of snow that the cars drove through, the people around the camp; as your stomach turns and your bottom lip starts to wobble. You knew this is how you’d turn out.

As soon as they put the cuffs on and tossed you onto the ground to wait… your own whimpering just melts into that of the others, but peaks when a hand grabs you by the hair and yanks you up, then lifts you by your arm. “No, no, stop!” The girls around you start screaming too, one grabbing at your arms to pull you back down. But the soldier doesn’t hesitate to kick her in the nose, as you cry, trembling like a kitten picked up by her neck.

Everyone’s scared for themselves, but they’re scared for you too, and you for them. “Stop, please! Please!” They cry. The blood thumping between your ears makes it hard to focus on anything but the painful grip on you, and the disgusted face of the man before you. When you don’t make any effort to fight, he drops you back down into the cold snow, and instead aims the long barrel of his gun straight at you.

You can’t even look away, as your heart rate slows. As you watch the small snowflakes come from the sky to meet you.

“Wait.” The voice returns when he stops halfway to the car, and makes your eyes shoot up to find his face, as shivers roll down your back. You know you’re stinking up the place, as the placating hands of the girls around you reach to brush fingers. It’s not much, but allows you to take a sniveling breath. “This one’s an Omega… Settle down, soldier. We’re not trying to hurt, are we?” The buzzcut’s eyes widen slightly, maybe as he takes a first good look at you and notices the smaller frame, big doe-like eyes, the softer set of your face and demeanor. Just as quickly as he gives you another up and down, he steps aside and lowers his heavy-duty gun back to the ground.

The older one takes a step back towards you. Your face must be windbitten, lips cracked and cold and stained with tears where you sit, but the noiret doesn’t falter as he drops into a squat before you. His face breaks out into a soft smile, and his hand rises to brush along your cheek, avoiding the black eye as he goes. “You’re a rare find. You on blockers?” Not enough recent ones to keep out all of the scent, clearly.

It’s not a question that needs answering, but as his thumb brushes over your lip, you find yourself giving the smallest nod. Gently, careful not to make any harsh movements. He does the same when he helps you right yourself back onto your knees, and then gives you a slow, calculated trace with his ocean-dark, silvery eyes. “Smart. We almost missed out on you with all the Beta stench.” A small furrow worms between his brows. “Are there others?” He asks, and then gives a swift continuation. “Don’t lie. If you lie I’ll know.”

Your voice cracks when you start. “I- If I tell you- what will happen to them?”

With only the slightest bit of hesitation, he seems to mull it over. Sharp, angular features soften just a bit as he draws his hand back from your face to run it under his nose instead. And whatever he smells must soothe the urge to get angry at being questioned, because his cheeks push up genially until his eyes are practically just moons. “How’s this? I’ll be fair, after hearing whatever information you have.” The anxiety ebbs and flows as you look to the faces at your side, then swallow.

Your heart hammers wildly in your chest. You have no reason to lie. There’s no one left that didn’t get shot as they ran… You clear your strained voice with a tight cough. “I- this is all that’s left. There’s no one else. We had people who escaped before you even closed in. B-but there weren’t any Omega’s left, the last raid already took them all. That’s all I know.” You try to keep your bottom lip from wobbling as you talk, ignoring the cold of the tears that are now freezing on your lashes.

Those dark, unrelenting eyes don’t waver as you speak, and you can’t help but wonder what it is he sees. Surely he knows, you wouldn’t need to lie. Just as you start getting anxious at the silence, he gets up from the floor, before dusting impatient hands over his pristine jacket— and a saccharine smile slips back onto his lips as he waves a hand. “Bring the Omega.” You jump when the soldier from earlier immediately starts yanking at your chains, but that’s it. It’s not in your nature to fight back. Then the Lieutenant walks back to the car as another opens it for him, and casts a final glance your way.

The smile doesn’t fall when he shifts that gaze to the side, and sucks his teeth. “Kill the monkeys.”

+

There’s nothing more embarrassing than having to fight your nature at every turn. You’re confronted with it more than you’ve ever been before, when they drag you across the cold tiles with your legs kicking, tears rolling in thick beads down your face and neck. You’re not a fighter. You’re not made for it. At every chance, your body chooses the easiest way out, oblige now, suffer later. Even when your mind screams at you to run, bite and kick and escape — you stay down. Cold metal slices into the tender and sore skin of your wrists when they yank you up another few feet, before dropping you onto the floor next to the makeshift desk.

You’re sniveling like a child. The man behind the desk looks at the several soldiers who stay put, before lifting an eyebrow.

“Lieutenant Geto says you’re to clean her up for processing.” One of the men sighs, before glaring down at you with a tight-lipped frown. It sets the hairs on your neck on end to feel such blatant displeasure from an Alpha.

The lighter haired young man stands from the chair at that, and gives you a quick once over. “For the barracks or to be sent to the commission?” He smiles when you look up at him, gentler, then places a warm hand on the top of your head to start soothing you. It’s enough to make your lip wobbly. The little bit of warmth isn’t enough… but it feels so nice. So good, to have a caring touch.

One of the other soldiers takes the heavy strap off his shoulder to put the gun down, and grunts. “Neither.” His top lip lifts into a scowl as he glares at the corner of the room, before turning to look down at you too. “Personal pick, I heard.”

The other soldier remains at the door, but clicks his tongue. “And we’re supposed to keep our mouths shut about it.”

“You ever had an Omega?” The one asks the other, nervously grinding his gun in circles. “I haven’t. Yet we’re going to war for ‘em… Only for pompous pricks to get first pick of the litter because they’re bold enough not to report to the commission.” The soldier grins without any amusement from across you, and you can’t help but hide more into the leg of the man who’s still touching you kindly. “Goin’ to war for pussies like yours… must make you something real special, right? But you’re unreported. What’s keeping me from just… taking you for myself?” Then he looks between the two other men. “I’m even willing to share between the three of us if you’d help out. Keep some things quiet.”

“You said the Lieutenant picked her out because he liked her, right?” The lighter haired man runs his free hand through his undercut, then leans down to lift you under your arms and get you onto tired legs against him. “Means you got something in return for keeping a secret already.” He’s all wired muscle under the uniform he wears, and wraps his arm around the small of your back before picking you up entirely. “Don’t do something stupid. There’s no place to keep her where some officer wouldn’t smell her anyway. Can’t keep her under your mattress like a pack of cards, can you?” He starts walking you towards the doors of a presumed bathroom without complaining, even though the other guy clicks his tongue.

“Itadori. You think you’re helping out just being another dog for the commission?”

“Instead of a thief?” He pushes the door open with one hand, already walking through. “Go get your free drinks or cigarettes or whatever he promised you, and do your job. I’m doing mine.”

The door falls shut with a loud noise behind you both, and you suck your bottom lip into your mouth. Your arms wrap a little tighter around his neck. “T-Thank you.”

His grey eyes find yours, before he smiles again. Softer. He’s an Alpha too, but must come into contact with your kind more frequently. He feels gentler to the touch when he speaks. “Don’t thank me yet.” Then he deposits you in a stained, old bathtub, and sighs before grabbing the showerhead. “Let’s get you cleaned up first. Ranking officers like their girls extra clean.” When you don’t move, he goes to take off your dirty shirt, and you only shiver in place as it happens.

After a few seconds of silence where he brushes fingers over the unmarked stretch of your neck, you swallow tightly. “You can’t let me go, can you?”

Itadori turns up the water until it’s warm, and his brows flatten. “…No. I’m here to do a job. I’m sorry.” You believe him. Doesn’t make you feel any better, though.

+

The cot is barely big enough for you, and the cold from the floor radiates up through the ratty, old mattress into you. But it’s still better than sleeping in the bed where Geto sleeps, where he can get his hands all over you, hold you, cling to you. You’re glad that the Lieutenant doesn’t particularly care whether or not you shy back away from him for the night, as long as you don’t act up when he wants you close. It’s an unwritten contract he likes to pretend you have. As if you weren’t forced into it. As if you had any choice.

The starchy sheets are cold too, they leave you shivering more than sleeping. When you walk through the halls you’re cold and barefoot and uncomfortable, but when you’re here you’re colder, naked and more uncomfortable.

You don’t know that much about the army. You don’t know that much about other things either, but you know that Omega’s are few and far in between. You know they go for lots of money, money that even Geto doesn’t have. You know that he’s using you to your full potential before his higher-ups find out, and that too much commotion would draw attention of the commission. Attention you don’t want. When your teeth start chattering, the man in the large bed, with the soft pillows and body heat calls.

Says your name like he means it. Like he likes to whisper to get under your skin- holding your life between slim fingers. He sighs. “Come. Get into bed. I can’t sleep when you’re not sleeping. And you’re not going to sleep when you’re shivering to death.”

“I’ll sleep,” you softly assure, pull your thin blanket closer. Your feet are cold and the room isn’t dark enough for it to actually happen. But you can pretend.

“I’m not asking.” You know he’s not. Maybe it’s because the alarm clock is showing an ungodly hour— and he’s tired. It wouldn’t be the first time his boot meets your cheek when you whine too much, displease him in ways Geto doesn’t like. “Come.”

He yawns when opening the blankets, waves you closer. An Alpha demands, and your lungs ache to follow the order. It physically hurts to resist. Your thin layer of tears sit on your waterline for a while before you shift. Slip across the room naked, and crawl into the bed under his arm. “That’s a good pet…” The panes of his chest are warm enough to have you melting like ice into his shape and mold yourself to him. It’s in the weight of his arm over your waist as he pulls you in close. Tethers you. You want to be and stay mad. Frightened.

It’s just… Geto’s scent’s become one you can bury yourself into. Your hands ball against his chest, and the fingers he presses into your hips stray down.

Your breathing hitches at the touch, and your stomach seems to want to crawl up into your mouth when he spreads your legs apart. “I’m hardly the worst one here. Get used to it already. People here are frustrated. Many of them haven’t had an Omega in years.” His rough fingertips slide between your legs and trace over the raw, achy mess he made of you not hours before. It’s sticky and uncomfortable, and you jerk when he rather impatiently starts thumbing your clit. It hurts- enough to make your face scrunch as you hide it into his pecks. “You don’t even know how lucky you are that I’ve kept you to myself.”

You do know that, though. You’ve passed by some of the barracks further away from the officer buildings. You’ve smelled the Omega fear, the blood and sweat and ruts; or what it’s like for a person to beg for a moment of reprieve. You have not a scratch on you, and you should be more grateful than you are. That you’re not taking a whole division’s sexual frustration to keep them from killing each other. When his fingers slide the wetness, remnants of slick and cum back into you and force your pussy to stretch again- you start sniffling against him. “I know I am,” you whimper, biting your lip. It’s not enough to just be this. You can’t just lay and wish for it all to go away. You have to be a participant, or Geto might switch you out.

As you whimper, swallowing back the tears- he presses his lips against your forehead. “Can’t help but cry? Poor baby.” He grinds the fleshy part of his palm against your pussy, breathing against you. “Tell me what it feels like.”

“I- Feels- b-big,” you choke out, twitching when his fingers curl into you and fuck deeper until they stroke much deeper than your own. The coldness fades a little when he rolls you over onto your back and gets on top, pinning you with his thigh. “Geto-sama- Please stop, I’m still- sore. It- it hurts really bad.”

With a slight frown, he pulls his fingers out of you and wipes them on your thigh, before sighing. Your eyes crack open at the lack of touch. His long black hair falls down over his shoulders, as he holds himself above you— and stares at you for a moment too long. One where he seems to consider your feelings at least a little, for once, brushing his clean thumb along your neck and shoulder. “I’m going back to the front soon. Do you know what that means?”

You’re not sure if it’s meant to be patronizing… but you don’t know. The wet, cold numbness that returns to your cunt is an unexpected unease. You wanted to stop. You did. But when he sits back on his heels and looks at you for a few seconds in abject silence, the distance feels too far. Geto comes back to you with a furrowed brow, before a line of kisses is pressed along your jaw and neck, where he takes a deep breath and makes your entire body purr. “Means you’ll be passed on to some other scum.” He almost growls when he says it, urges your one leg over his thigh to make room.

“I put in a good word that if I come back you’ll come back to me- but…” His sharp eyes find yours blown out and dark, as he pulls you closer to his hips and rolls himself against you. His hard cock- he’s always hard when you’re in his bed, bops as he grabs himself and pumps a few achingly slow strokes. A translucent drop of precum drops to your pussy, and he spits on his hand and your pussy for good measure. “I’ll be two months without this soft Omega cunt squeezing me to sleep.” As he groans and slides the flushed head of his cock against you, he presses his weight into you again. “Let me use you. Or see what fucking happens.”

+

The hearth burns at the far end of the pristine, wooden room. Enough to make your hands clammy, shifting yourself back and forth between both legs- before glancing up to Geto once more. He looks more pampered today. Standing straight with only his fingers looped loosely around your arm. For a split second you wonder if you’d be able to make it down the marble set of stairs and across the courtyard into the shallow bushes— but it’s only a moment. Not more than a brief hope that instantly gets snuffed out when the heavy doors slide open, and a deep grunt passes by you both.

Geto salutes, the man does not. He only clears his voice with a mix of impatience and -tobacco, probably, before motioning his head towards the desk. “Lieutenant, what can I do for you?” His voice is frighteningly low, more rumble and bass than anything else, and sets the hairs on your arms on end.

His half-lidded eyes flick from the man beside you, ever so swiftly to you, then back. Face blank, uncaring. You stumble when Geto takes a few steps forward, basically dragging you behind him towards the chairs. When he lets you go, he gives you a look, and so you sit. Hands folding in your lap to keep them from picking at the edges of your clothing.

Or lack thereof. There’s a clean gold plate with the name Shiu Kong engraved at the very front of the desk, staring back at you. Your Alpha doesn’t hesitate to sit down too. “Major General Kong, Sir. A pleasure as always. You’ve lost some weight?”

“Hardly,” the man shoots right back, unfazed. “You can lay off the flattering.”

Geto and the stranger seem to converse with their eyes for a moment, before your owner gets comfortable in the velvet chair beside you, and hangs his arms over the back with a slight smile. The other man doesn’t bother to sit in his own chair across from you, instead just bending to get out one of the no-doubt expensive cigarettes, and lighting it. The smoke travels in slow, winding circles up to the ceiling as he hums. “So, the Omega. Y’ want to buy her?”

“I’d like her returned to my possession with the least amount of scratches when I get back, Sir.”

“We’re in a war, Suguru.” The man takes a short puff of his cigarette again, before putting his foot onto the chair and leaning in just barely. Dark, grayish eyes narrow. “You can’t pick out playthings at your whim. We have rules about these sorts of things.” The ash goes into the overfull ashtray, before those irises find you where you’re still slumped in the too-big chair. Almost amused, he lets out a bit of air through his nose, before punctuating his words with another drag. “Higher ranks get first picks, but if you’re gone, you’ll have to share. She looks healthy, young. Girls like that go for a lot of money these days.”

“I understand, Sir.” Geto’s smile doesn’t slip though, not even when he takes one of your hands and pulls until you get up. With his prompting, you instead sit back down on his lap instead, and the noiret hooks his chin over your shoulder when he strokes your thigh. You duck your head in shame. “It’s just that- she’s more of an indoor pet. I’d like to keep it that way, if possible.” His other hand winds under your chin to nudge it back up into view, as you shiver. Watch the attention of the superior officer linger just a second on the way your shirt falls around your hips.

Geto’s. “You have a mansion not too far from the front, as I understand it? And due to surely unfortunate consequences, your last Omega… broke.” His voice gleams as he says the words, and they seem to wind like a coiled spring around your neck. “I’m more than willing to part with mine for a while, if I could have a guarantee she’d be close by. Used sparingly.” You don’t know enough about the army to know if Shiu Kong has the kind of strings that Geto’s presuming he has— but you don’t really dare complain. The silence drags; before it crumbles into pieces when a slight relaxation pulls at the older man’s lips, cocking his head.

“Have her stand.”

You do, spurred on by the quick pat to your thigh and a winning smile, eyes fluttering as you trace the patterns on the floor. As the presence of the older Alpha fills your senses and he circles around you too close, he smells of smoke and a deep, woody musk that could bring you to your knees if you weren’t so used to it by now. After a round where his finger patiently brushes past your most valued features, he takes your face into his palm and forces your eyes up. Until you can no longer ignore the handsome face ducking down to meet your gaze.

You whimper. Let your face get turned here and there before he takes the end of the cig from between his lips, and addresses you directly. “You got a name?”

“Y-yes.” You stumble out, basically whispering it when he stares like that. He doesn’t have a kind face like Geto does, you notice, more angular, stubbled, at least a decade older too. You find yourself reaching for Geto’s hand despite knowing better, if only to have something to cling to as you blink away nervous jitters, and excess tears that are always ready to spill. Your bare feet shuffle against the carpet below.

Whatever he sees staring back at him is enough for his fingers to drop to your collar, dragging it either side with a grunt. “It’s some skill to find an unmated, pretty, little Omega hidden from the commission, Lieutenant… One would almost call it suspicious.” There’s a hint of amusement, one he pushes out alongside the butt of the cig. As if he knows he’s in, Suguru stands from the chair to put a comforting hand on your back and rubs circles through the flimsy fabric of his oversized shirt, tucking his thumb into the loose boxers you’re wearing below.

“I just get lucky, Sir. Omega’s delivered to the commission lose their charm too quickly, s’all.”

Shiu’s eyes give you another slow up and down, then he clicks his tongue. “So, what do you want in return for this present?”

“Nothing at all, really.” The hand pulls you into his side to nuzzle along your neck for some extra show, where he nibbles at the sensitive spot— makes you whimper like a bitch in heat. It’s loud enough for the other man to eat you up whole with his eyes, puffing out his chest a little to push off the desk. The swift hand wrapped around you gives you an adoring squeeze, before Suguru pouts into your temple like he’s parting with a prized possession. “Just that I get her back once I’m done with my service at the front in a few months.” 

“Done.” Shiu busies himself with the bottle of expensive looking liquor, before casting you another glance. “Dress her in some actual clothes though, will ya? She already attracts enough attention as is.”

+

You stare at the fogged-up window with your duvet tucked to your chest, and breathe a few shallow breaths. There’s soldiers running up and down the camp, tucking their caps low against the biting wind. You only bother to follow one of them with your eyes, light hair peeking out from under the hat as he runs his laps. Instead of lingering on the thought, you shiver when a heavy, muscular arm pulls you around your waist and down into the bed. Shiu’s quick to let out a grunt, before opening his eyes and hooking his chin over your shoulder to nose at your neck. “You’re goin’ into heat soon?”

You barely dare shift when his stubble tickles your throat, and a few rough kisses get placed right over your pulse. “Probably. I-I’ll- ah-” His hand wraps around the base of your neck as he starts sucking on the sore skin, where bruises still sit from yesterday. You’re not sure if it’s his hands wrapped around your neck that caused it, or the way he bullied his cock way too deep into your throat— but you’re so sore. “I’ll need heat blockers for a while.”

“Mh,” he smells like tobacco. And a heavy, manly musk that’s so overwhelmingly Alpha. It’s distracting. It melts your tongue to the bottom of your teeth. “No need. We’re far enough away here that they won’t smell you. Or if they do, they can’t do anything about it anyway.” You blank, only to mewl and curl away when his lips and tongue rakes over a particularly sore spot, making your toes curl.

“But- b-but I,” you stutter, and one hand comes up to protect your scent gland from him as he gets up onto one arm to get on top of you. You haven’t gone through a proper heat in forever. It wasn’t ever safe even with just Beta’s around— you barely even remember what it feels like. Only that it hurts so bad it could make you sick. “But I don’t want to go into heat. It hurts.”

Shiu stops his barrage on your neck to frown at you, as he nudges your legs aside for his own thick thighs. One eyebrow raises at you like you’re dumb. “It doesn’t hurt when I’m here to breed you full, little girl.” He scans your face as he keeps pushing your one knee to your chest, before his mouth flattens out. “You don’t know that? You’ve never had an Alpha cock in here during heat?” It’s embarrassing. It’s so embarrassing— the way he eyes you like you’re some sort of idiot. It’s not like you had the privilege of trying it out before all this, hiding like a mouse. “Aw, baby girl. You’re so sweet.”

It doesn’t sound like a compliment.

“Daddy’ll have to teach you.” His large hand forces it’s way between your legs to squeeze your cunt and make you squirm under him, before he finally sits back and pushes the covers off, revealing the battle-worn body. “But not right now. Get up and go wash. We’re having company over.”

Your mouth’s dry, so you swallow tightly. “Who?” Your legs still tingle even when he gets out of bed, a little numb, a little achy.

“A… friend, I guess.” He picks out one of the cigarettes on the side table after putting on a shirt, and plops it between his lips. “You won’t like him.”

With sweat rolling down your neck, you stumble across the steam-coated tiles and grab onto the sink. Shaking like you’re ill. You definitely feel that way. It makes your entire skin feel statically charged, and sore, and so painfully needy. As soon as you take another step, you almost immediately topple over, legs trembling despite yourself. There’s no better sign than the dry feeling in your throat, and the way a whimper threatens to escape you with every move.

So you do all you can, and start tearing up as you wrap a towel around yourself. Even your own innocent touch feels too much, and you hurry through the process to barely manage pulling on a top and some panties, before your body refuses to oblige. You want to cry. Why did this have to happen now? Why here? Shiu hasn’t been bad to you, but he also isn’t particularly gentle. You didn’t want to go through heat at all. “Mh-mn, need- agh.” You whine thoughtlessly, as you wobble to the door.

There’s a swell of voices from down the hall— talking that doesn’t last long before falling quiet as you make your way to the bed. You’re so hot that it’s hard to keep your eyes open, your thighs rubbing uncomfortably as you walk. Thick, almost sticky tears wobble on your waterline, and the heat in your stomach sinks right into your center the more of the room you take in. It’s not your fault - everywhere you look it stinks of Alpha musk. Thick and overpowering to your flighty brain, it makes you want to keel over onto fours. You really are just a bitch in heat, and that is embarrassing too.

Makes you want to curl up onto a solid chest and let yourself get bounced onto his cock like a ragdoll.

It takes so much of your effort to drag yourself to the pillowed surface that you fail to hear the steps coming closer, let alone control that you’re scenting up the entire top floor when you crawl in and your pussy starts clenching around nothing. You’re mewling faint nothings as you stuff your face into the blankets— and smell only him. Heavy on your wet tongue. 

“Agh, I- Al-pha, I need- it hurts. It hurts, I want you~” With your chest to the bed and your legs raised up, you just feel like you need to— to get filled up to the brim to make this aching stop. “Mhmm-ugh, please, pleas- need you, Shiu~” Slick’s already coating your pussy enough to slip right in, wet like the spit in your mouth that gathers under your tongue. Your head’s so light. It’s spinning.

Then, a heavy palm strokes over your crown, and your noises explode.

“Ah, ah, agh, daddy, daddy.” The weight of the touch travels down your neck to grip you, and your body curls to raise your ass even further up in need of friction. “Daddy, please. I don’t want to~ T-told you I- need-ed blockers. Ah, ahh.” The low chuckle you get isn’t the one you expect, but you can’t open your eyes enough to see what’s going on.

“Bit friendly for a hello, isn’t it?” There’s a huge body that surrounds you when leaning over you, as lips travel down behind your ear. “S’cute though. That’s a pretty girl. Daddy’s here.” Rough hands push your hips down with one swift move, slipping two fingers under your panties to pull the fabric taut. The slick grinds the fabric uncomfortably to your cunt, but you can’t be still. “Already drenched through your clothes, pet.” You don’t mean to. You don’t, you’re so sorry. “Whining like a little baby, need to get filled up?” 

“Only thinking with this pussy, right? This is why Omega’s don’t run anything…” The lips ghost over your scent glands, making you squirm with dripping anticipation, when he lets his tongue run over his teeth and then along your throat. The juncture where your neck meets your shoulder, untouched and open and soft. He groans. “Ugh, fuckin’ hell, you’re so sweet. Your scent is almost making me sick.” One hand digs sharp nails into the meat of your ass, as the other reaches around to start pulling your camisole down over your sensitive tits. “Want some love from daddy, baby?”

A slightly raspier voice comes from somewhere behind you and drowns out your own whining and mewling. “I thought I told you to wait, Fushiguro.”

“Your pet was crying, Kong.” He rakes his teeth over that one spot again until you can’t stand it anymore, and your tears start dripping into the blankets. You push your chest out until his warm palm reaches around and squeezes, rubbing a thumb over your nipples. “Plus, just smell her. She’s scenting up the whole house. I wanted to come help.” After a long pause where you’re fighting the need to rub yourself on anything cock shaped like an animal— you’re turned over by a sturdy yank on your shoulder, and long fingers slide into your messy, drool filled mouth to press on your tongue.

Its Shiu, whose normally stern brow now is arched in amusement. The man on the bed with you moves away just enough to let you take a look, and take in the messy dark hair and almost metallic blue eyes, scarred face and dog tags hanging from his neck as he rolls onto his side. Shiu pinches your tongue to make you squeak, then leans in. “See you’ve already made introductions.” You mumble a pathetic ‘daddy’ under his sharp gaze, before he takes a deep breath.

“Poor girl, already going into heat? You didn’t last long. Needy, little pussy’s throbbing, isn’t it?” He pulls the top fully down until it’s hooked under your tits, then hums. “Look so cute when you’re begging to get fucked.”

“Gonna let me have a turn too?” Fushiguro rights himself onto one forearm, then pushes a finger down on your forehead until it's tilted all the way back and you’re looking up at him again. He’s got a mean sort of look in his eyes, right before his lips twitch when you groan softly at the touch. You literally can’t help yourself. It hurts so good— good enough to make you want to wrap your legs around either of their hips and stay there. Aches.

Shiu’s voice resonates through your body when he moves to kneel down to your body and starts kissing from your belly up, making you twitch. His gravelly hum reverberates in your clit, as your legs get spread over each shoulder when he comes up. “She’s not mine to give away Toji, so- ugh- restrain yourself a little.” His big hands smooth over your tits instead of squeezing you like you want, until you really start worming around under their touches.

“Mh~ hurry up!”

It’s out before you know it, and the backlash rushes straight to your cheeks in heat, burning up on your face. Fushiguro groans though, long and deep- before he pushes off the bed to get onto his knees, and grabs himself through the awfully casual clothing. His hand wraps around the large, large cock pressing against the fabric— and when you open your mouth and basically salivate at the sight- he lets out a lightly pinched chuckle. “Oh, you don’t wanna be doing all that, pet. You’ve got days of heat ahead of you— and you’re getting me hard as a motherfucker.”

All it’s doing is making you so horny you can barely see straight, and each inch of your body surges with electricity. You need something inside you. Now. Now, now, now. He runs a distracted hand through his messy fringe, and rolls his hips into his hand with a groan. “What’s it gonna be, Kong? If you take her underwear off I’m not leaving. Sweet, little thing like that…” Your legs are up by his ears when the familiar giant sits up onto the bed too, and your hand reaches for his to pull him closer by his thumb. “Haven’t had a greedy, fertile little Omega pussy in a while- the Commission always bitches I have too much fun.”

A hesitant furrow worms itself between Shiu’s brows for a bit, before he sighs. “Can’t bite ‘er, she’s not mine. I’m just keeping her.” His eyes are more blown out than normal, dark ring of black taking over the longer he touches you. You’re sure you’re similarly spent when you moan his name and he groans. “Fuck, baby. Want this Alpha cock in here?” His large hand smoothed over the supple skin of your lower belly, when you wiggle yourself against him, basically grinding onto his leg. “Needy, huh.” He licks his lips. “Fine, join. Can count us even after that.”

At that the other noiret grins, and pulls his shirt over his head in one swift move of agreement. Shiu’s hands already roam back over every bit of exposed skin. “And I get first turns.” The large fingers mindlessly playing with your nipple pinches you, when grayish eyes find you beneath him. “Get up.” With just a quick motion, you force your sluggish body up and onto fours— and fight the urge to force your head down yet again. That’s what would feel right.

“That-” Shiu’s hard too, you notice quite happily, when you grind back against him to find another thick, heavy bulge in his pants that heats your cunt. “That’s it.” You mewl, have no choice to. As you look back over your shoulder, he takes a moment to study you where you’re so much smaller beneath him. Omega’s always are, but these two are big even among other Alpha’s— more slick sticks your panties to the shape of your cunny. Your body’s entirely sticky with sweat, neck and throat aching and radiating heat all over you.

Your tongue melts in your mouth, when you look back and Fushiguro’s stripped down entirely— shredded body towering over you as well. He squeezes a rough ring around the flushed, pulsing head of his cock. “Uh, ugh-ah, daddy, daddy, daddy- Please? Please.”

“Who are you calling daddy?” The general asks sternly, but there’s no malice there. He’s amused as he peels the panties over the curve of your ass and down ever so slowly, letting your wet folds drip all over his fingers as he plays around in them. The touch makes you stagger forward, arms almost giving in— and you whine something unintelligible into the covers. “Fu~ck, you smell so sweet. Little Omega bitch in heat- ugh.”

A heavy hand lands on the swell of your ass, and stings so bad. With another spank your pussy clenches around nothing, and by the third you’re basically begging and your cunny’s sucking his fingers in. “A-daddy, please. Hurts. Uh-pu-lease. Need Alpha inside. Quickly, please. I-it hurts.” Another hand pets your crown for a few seconds, before he grabs a fistful of hair and pulls your head up. Your mouth hangs open, and your tongue drops out at the sight of the hard, veiny cock before you.

It’s flushed a sweet sort of pink, nothing like you can already tell Fushiguro is— but drool still gathers in globs, looking at the precum glistening on him. “Gonna open your pretty, little mouth wide for me, pet?” As he strokes himself, the man behind you starts toying his fingers around your holes, and smears your slick all over until you’re entirely sloppy. Then chuckles, throwing his head back with a grunt.

“Fuck, forgot how hard I get- with Omega’s.” The slick sounds of your pussy, and both men's hands stroking their swollen cocks makes everything so loud. Wet and needy and animalistic— your own whining drowning out your thoughts. You just want more. More touch, please. Shiu spits onto your holes without hesitation and slaps his thick, hot cockhead against you a few times, before placing one hand on the middle of your back to force you in place. “Don’t run away from me- jus-t take it.”

“O-oh-fu-ugh.” He pushes inside with more of his weight, thick thighs pressing up against the inside of yours when you spread wider, and almost get pushed over. If not for Toji holding you up and rubbing himself along your cheek and lips too, impatiently stroking himself.

The head’s already big, stings on the way in. Enough to hurt, enough to make you tear up. He’s just so thick and glowing hot to the touch— basically pulsing inside you. You can feel his heartbeat through the skin as the head pops in with a lot of pressure. Your throat starts making noises despite you. “A-agh, ugh agh, da-I- ca— um-hnggg.”

“My turn,” Toji grunts after a bit, hooking a finger in your cheek to open your mouth more and coach your tongue out. “That’s- a good cockslut— open wide.” You do, letting spit drip as you relax your jaw and wrap your lips around him, filling up your mouth too much. You’ve never been so needy. The choking and the taste only make your eyes want to roll back in your skull, giving yourself over to them. You don’t want to do anything except give yourself over, struggling to make enough space between your legs to allow Shiu closer.

“You’re so fucking tight, baby, uhh-fuck.”

He’s still going slow, necessity, as each inch of his fat cock gets stuffed inside you, using his fingers to push more into your comparatively tiny cunt— and each bit deeper he goes, the more you feel like melting. It hurts, hurts and aches and bulges your stomach; and Fushiguro pushes deeper and bulges your throat- and it hurts- It does. But you can’t stop. You reach your arms out to wrap around the man’s glutes and pull him closer into your face, drool dripping down your chin. “Mh-mhm mhhuh.”

With his tongue trapped between his teeth, he grins. “Hah, you’re talking a lot for someone with their mouth stuffed— Does that feel good? You like choking on Alpha cock?” Your teary eyes try to focus on him, but you can’t, just cling on harder as the cock inside you kisses your cervix and he’s still not done. It aches so much, stretching you much wider than you’re meant to go. But it does, it does, it does. You don’t want to stop. “A little longer, that’s it, a little more~”

Instead you try to hollow your cheeks around him as he sits too deep in your throat, and fight the urge to squirm when your breath starts to pinch. Your body worms, you cry around them, and slick drips down your thighs like syrup. When Shiu bottoms out, it actually makes you gag, feeling so full and spent— and you squirm as Fushiguro keeps you. “Mh-hh- hck.” Your mouth aches as your lungs start to scream, and vision goes blurry.

Shiu pulls back before the other man does, groaning at the sight of sloppy, milky slick coating his cock, then slides back into your warmth just as fast, forcing your body to stretch again to make room. T-too big. “Let her- hh- up, she’s turning blue.” As you’re basically about to pass out, you get pulled off of him and gag violently, before taking sniveling, painful breaths again. You barely get the chance to breathe before your chin is lifted again, and he tilts your face left and right.

Your mouth drops open again, and tongue squirms around nothing. “More? You want more, greedy slut?” He smiles again, but more genuinely impressed this time— and hums. “Such a good, little Omega.” You can’t help it, you shiver and moan when he lets you back at his cock. And Shiu pulls back again only to fuck back into you, forcing you open as he builds a rhythm.

“She liked that one. She’s trying to clench my dick off.” He moans, and his unoccupied hand swipes some wetness dripping down your leg to circle it around your puckered hole instead. “You think she can take two?”

The cock gets stuffed back into your throat, but he pulls back faster now, instead using your head to fuck himself into you as he groans. “‘Nuh uh, she can’t. She’s too tiny— L-ook, you’re already -fuck- bulgin’ er.” He watches your lips struggle to wrap around him as he fucks your throat— only stopping for a moment to wipe some of the spit off your face. “She likes it so much though, look at that. You’re just a dumb, cocksleeve bitch, right? Want Alpha cocks to fill you?”

You can’t answer. Your brain’s all scrambled from the heat, a cloudy, pillowy feeling sitting over everything else. It feels so, so good. Being stretched to your limit, getting used. Your pussy clenches uselessly around the too-big invasion, getting bounced against Shiu’s thighs with a noisy ‘pap, pap, pap’. If you could think, you’d agree though. The pressure of his cock grinding into your sensitive insides, basically lifting you off your knees as he grabs your hips to jackhammer into you deeper, it’s all too much.

“Close?”

You’re drowning in your own arousal. After a few more seconds of getting used for all your worth, the expanding, pulsing pressure in your stomach grows too tight— and your toes curl uselessly as you cum without warning. It shatters inside you as you fail to clench around the thick length in you, instead dropping though your arms as you pull off of the cock in your throat to tremble through your orgasm. “Ah-hgh- ugh ah da-Alpha, Alpha, ahh ah agh! St-hngh~” You cry. Thick tears, spit and snot get wiped into the covers as you try to catch your breath, while still being fucked into.

You can’t stop shaking. Even then, Shiu’s cock keeps forcing the head against your cervix and making your eyes bulge. “Oh fuck, fuck- too tight— shit, I was this close, hah.” When he slips out for a second, you collapse entirely, aching immediately at the emptiness inside you. Your tits are sores, but everything else is burning so hot you feel like you might go up in flames.

It’s Fushiguro who picks you up by your arms and pulls you into his chest after a while, holding your pathetic, naked body like a ragdoll. “So cute now that you’re all flushed, cumming like that. But you’re not done, are you?” His fingers squeeze either side of your cheeks to bring your mouth to his, kissing on you until you respond and let his tongue melt against yours.

Your head’s still spinning, but a different kind of heat grows now in the base of your neck, desperate and needy. Your hand reaches to get more, more skin, pulling at the short hair at the back of his head- you moan into the kiss. Tongues and spit mixing as it slides down your throat and he towers over you, cock bouncing against your stomach. When he pulls back, long lashes brush yours, and you whimper when the touch goes.

Shiu’s staring. You can’t tell what expression he has, but it’s enough to make Fushiguro frown and lift his lip. “Fuck off. I get protective when they whine like that, s’all. She’s sweet when she’s cryin’ all baby like.” He instead focuses on pinching and toying with your puffy nipples, rubbing each side with rough fingertips, then hooks his chin over your head to look past you. “Wanna try the two of us at once?”

Instinct gets the better of you, and you’re already nodding against his pecs before you can think. “Two, two- w-want, please. Mhm, want Alphas.” It makes both men laugh, hands sliding all over you as you stick your ass out and Shiu spits on his hand. His cock’s still coated with wet, a white, creamy layer around the base of his cock as he strokes the head a few times. You’re seeing double, and your tongue feels like molten candy. But still you keep drooling and nodding. “Want, want you, wanna have- m-more, please.”

He then grabs your hips to yank you back against his hips, letting his cock push on your ass as his wet fingers curl inside your puckered hole, and stretch it out with two fingers. “She’s already fucked out of her mind, poor thing.”

“Mhm, agh- Alp- daddy, daddy— s’ sensitive- please, please, please~”

Fushiguro’s face blanks, before he takes a deep breath and groans low and gravelly, and grabs you by the neck. “Ugh, she’s- her scent is everywhere. Little bitch in heat moaning like it’s her job.” He buries his nose right where the most sensitive, burning part of your neck is, making you crumple, and kissing along the shell of his ear where you can reach. The fingers inside you, the pressure and heat of the two cocks against you— everything’s making you crazy. You’re losing your mind, trying to hang on to him as he licks over the glands. “Want daddy, baby?”

Your head bobs like it’s disconnected from your longing, arching body. And you almost cum again on the spot when sharp canines drag over that spot. You just might.

A low growling sound makes you open your eyes. Shiu’s hand is between the face and your neck, much to the other man’s dismay. “I told you not to bite ‘er. Don’t care how much she begs- she’s not ours to bite.” There’s a moment of silence between them, before Fushiguro sucks his teeth in annoyance, before grabbing his cock instead.

“She is mine.” His large hand wraps around your arm, and pulls— but your other shoulder is still clamped in Shiu’s palm. Almost painfully tight, as a muscle twitches in his jaw. And the tension between them is making you clam up, but your body’s still aching too hard.

“Share, please,” you sweeten your voice as you press your lips to Shiu’s knuckles, then present yourself a little more and shake your ass against him. “Please, daddy? Want to be full.” It doesn’t take long for that same flush to travel back up his chest and cheeks, and his irises to get wider and darker again. “Full of Alpha cum, t-take all of you.” It’s with that that he wraps an arm around you entirely and pulls you up against his chest, placing his cock between your legs as he lifts your knees. “Ack- agh.” You mewl, and Fushiguro leans in for another kiss.

Briefer, but no less messy.

Shiu’s quick to press his own kisses to your throat, letting his stubble rub over your scent glands— with your pussy clenching in response. He rolls his hips against you a few times, then lines up with your ass as he groans. “Hold her legs.” You take a deep breath, and close your eyes as the cock presses to your ass, slick enough to push in with minimal effort. “Uhuh, there’s a good Omega.” As he does though, the space in your body is so full, you’re struggling to breathe. It aches enough to make you wilt and bloom all at once.

And then Fushiguro takes over on your pussy, and you cry out. Your hot cheeks are coated with tears, and your clit thumps with all the blood. It’s too much. You can feel both of them slide into you with painful precision, wetness spilling all over as you break out in cold sweats. But it- it feels so good. Fushiguro slips in a few inches at once, making your legs shake— before you dig your nails into his shoulder and your vision goes black. “Oh- fuck-f-fuck, cu-mming~ Agh- uhh nghn, oh god.”

The two men slide you down until you’re so full it feels like your insides are moved aside to make room. Like you’re about to tear in two, squished between two hot, solid bodies. Before Shiu groans into your hair, and lifts you up to slide you back down. And again, and again. Bounced on the two of them while slick drips out of you, and you’re creaming around them both. “That’s a- ugh- pretty girl.” Your orgasm barely pitters out before you’re cumming again, and you’re getting kissed on as you’re crying.

Not a single thought makes it though you. You’re clinging on for dear life. Only the heat between the three of you as you melt into a puddle.

You’re fucked until you can’t even feel your legs, let alone hear how you’re mewling and crying— like you might dissolve. But you do feel it when a tongue laves over your neck, and the cock pulsing inside you starts jack-hammering into you harder than before. Everything feels so- good- that you’re probably drawing blood into his shoulders, and the tongue becomes teeth. One second you’re floating, and the next the pressure grows too much— teeth break skin, and your pleasure becomes mind-numbing.

Fushiguro’s teeth sink into your shoulder deeper as he breathes you in, fucks his cock into your guts with the intent to stay. And the other man grunts, squeezing you tighter. But without thinking, he follows suit to bite down on the other side of your neck, letting you shake through yet another orgasm when the hot blood runs down your collar. You’re entirely spent, so there’s not one part of you that still feels the way Shiu speeds up inside your ass, before groaning out your name as he licks along the wound.

“Fuck, gonna- knot my girl. Fuck- ugh, ughuh— my baby, mine. Mine.”

It feels like you’re stuffed further than you ever thought possible, face dropping into Fushiguro’s chest when they slow down, and ropes of hot cum drip out of you despite the knots. Wasting it in a way that you’d savor, if you had any energy left. Instead you can only barely breathe, and rub your nose into your Alpha’s chest. It feels good. You wanna go again.

“Uh— my bad. I got carried away.” One of them sighs after a while, the rumbling of his voice rocking you to sleep.

“Yea…” The other responds, only the slightest bit guilty. “…Guess Suguru will have to learn how to share.” His large hand smoothes over your cheek, before stubble and soft lips kiss over the mark he’s made.

“But I don’t think I wanna share.”

All Rights Reserved © IWAASFAIRY 2024. Works are exclusive to this Tumblr.

[phagodyke]

nvm im too tired and overstimulated for this shit

[gloomwitchwrites]

You send him a text "Thanks for the flowers, babe" attached with a photo of a bouquet as a prank. Obvs, he gets jealous/possessive.

Anon, I love this. I cackled the first time I read it, and I've been wanting to get to it for a while. There are so many requests (and I will get to them all), but with my health being shit, I'm trying to select from the pool where I'm not overworking my brain or stressing myself out trying to come up with something. This prompt came very naturally to me.

These are all spicy. Period. I didn't hold back with this one. Maybe I'm ovulating or some shit but I literally couldn't write anything but smut for this prompt. I had a lot of fun with this one, and I hope you enjoy.

Task Force 141 x Female Reader

Content & Warnings: swearing, dirty talk, praise, spanking, oral sex (female & male receiving), face fucking, restraints, vaginal fingering, unprotected piv (wrap it up irl), creampie, jealousy, possessive behavior, orgasm control

Word Count: 4.4k

For the masterlist and how to submit your own request, click HERE

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // imagines & what if masterlist

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Simon’s phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it, attention stuck on Price who stands in front of a large map of Europe.

There are pictures—some have a red “X” through them while a couple others have black question marks. The mission isn’t done, but that isn’t surprising. This has taken months to complete. It’s been slow, and entirely too complicated for Simon’s liking.

His phone buzzes again, the vibration pulling his attention away.

When the third buzz comes in, his agitation turns to worry. Simon never allows messages to come through at work unless it’s from very specific people. To have three come through in less than two minutes stirs something in his gut.

Price starts talking again but Simon’s brain is melting. He reaches into his pocket and fishes out his phone. Keeping it next to his thigh, Simon awakens the screen.

Your name is there and 3 new messages.

Simon glances up, but no one is looking at him. Silently, he unlocks the phone and clicks over to his messages, tapping on your name.

At first, Simon doesn’t understand. His brain short-circuits, and then unbridled jealousy comes roaring forward.

The first message is a photo of a beautiful bouquet sitting on the kitchen island. It’s fucking large, taking up most of the space. The flowers are different shades of pink, yellow, and orange. It looks like spring.

Beneath the picture are two texts.

Thanks for the flowers!!

I love you!

But Simon did not get you flowers. He didn’t order these, and he certainly didn’t have them delivered to the flat.

Fuck. What the actual fuck.

Someone else did this.

Simon’s first thought is that Johnny did it to prank him. But Johnny has been a bit subdued today, and his attention isn’t on Simon at all.

No. It’s likely not him.

Simon locks his phone and stews. He can’t just leave this meeting. It’s important, but he’s going to get to the fucking bottom of it.

By the time Price dismisses them, Simon is already out the door, charging toward his locker to grab his stuff. It usually takes him a half hour to arrive home, but today he does it in twenty. When Simon bursts through the front door, he’s ready to toss those flowers right off the balcony.

But then he sees your face—how happy you are—and Simon melts. You throw yourself into his arms, and Simon instinctually responds, embracing you tightly. He presses his face into your hair and inhales.

“Missed you,” you say, grabbing both sides of his face and kissing him. “Thank you for the flowers.”

I didn’t get you any flowers.

Simon smiles because it’s all he can manage. That jealousy from earlier starts to curl back up, twisting around in his ribcage.

“Did you like the note?”

You frown. “What note?”

The way you ask is…odd. It’s far too innocent in the presentation. Simon knows your cues and this seems forced to him. But the sender didn’t leave a message. That doesn’t give Simon much to go on if he’s going to track down who sent them.

“Maybe they forgot,” he replies, kissing your forehead. “Show them to me.”

With a bright smile, you take his hand, guiding him into the kitchen. They’re much more stunning in person and Simon momentarily freezes. Did he forget your birthday? An anniversary? An important event?

Simon recalls nothing for today’s date.

The jealousy rises again but he clamps down on it. Anyone could have sent this, especially a friend of yours or a family member. Doesn’t mean there is someone out there with predatory intentions. And for all Simon knows, you’re having a laugh, riling me up. You’ve done it before.

“They’re lovely,” observes Simon. “Better than the picture.”

Your grin is gorgeous, a thing Simon wants to bottle up. You open your mouth to answer him but the dryer goes off. “Hold on,” you call over your shoulder as you dash away. “Let me change over the loads.”

When you disappear, Simon goes for the bouquet. He quickly checks through every flower and between the stems, even sticks his fingers in the dirt. Simon doesn’t know what the fuck he’s looking for, but he’s grasping for anything.

The only thing of note is the business card which Simon quickly plucks from its holder and tucks into his pocket. Simon steps away from the bouquet when you appear again.

Jealousy is stewing, showing its fangs, curling tighter around Simon’s ribs.

When you reach for him, Simon sweeps you off your feet, planting you on the kitchen island. You giggle, but Simon cuts it off, drawing you to the edge to seize your lips in a fierce kiss.

That jealous viper between his bones tells him to possess you.

Simon’s hands drop to your waist and then your hips. He settles himself between your legs, hands moving down to your bare thighs.

You’re flushed with embarrassment, attempting to hide your face from him, giggling his name as you fist his shirt.

“I’ve been thinking about you all day,” rasps Simon.

Your lips part and Simon slides his tongue inside. You moan, suck on his tongue, and release him. Simon’s grip on your thighs tightens.

“All day?” you ask softly.

Moving his hands to beneath your thighs, Simon tugs you into his arms and carries you over to the dining room table, but doesn’t place you on top of it. He brings you to your feet, and then his fingers curl around the shorts that are little more than underwear.

“Take these off.”

“Simon—”

“Do it,” he growls, releasing them and bringing his hand back to his side.

Slowly, you do as he says. You bring them up so that Simon can see them before tossing them to the side. That viper in him hisses, the venom leaking into his system.

Simon slides his hand between your thighs. You lean back against the table, hands resting on the edge as you part your legs. What his fingers find only makes him groan.

Withdrawing, Simon licks his fingers clean. “Turn around. Bend over the table. Show me what I want.” With a smirk on your lips, you face the table, and bend forward, going up on your toes.

Fuck the flowers and whoever sent them. You’re his.

Simon unbuckles the front of his belt, undoes the zipper of his pants, and frees his aching cock. He needs to be inside you, to hear you say his name, to feel you come around him. He needs to possess because it’s the only thing he can do right now.

Guiding with his hand, Simon rubs the head of his cock through your slickness. You’re already so wet for him—so fucking needy, and he’ll devour it all. Give you exactly what you want while taking something for him.

As he starts to slide in, you whimper. Reaching back, your hand grabs your ass, opening yourself a bit wider for him.

Bloody hell.

Simon doesn’t want to go slow. Using his grip on your hip, he slides all the way in, making you take him to the hilt with one forward thrust of his hips.

Your gasp is choked, and then Simon is lost, pounding into you as if this is the last time he’ll ever fuck you. It’s only your tightness, your breathy moans of pleasure, and the desperate why you say his name. It wraps around him, satiates the viper, calms the rising jealousy until it’s only you Simon can focus on.

Through the haze, Simon finds your clit, plays with it, slows his thrusts until your orgasm arrives, squeezing him so tight he almost finishes right then and there. But once that wave crests and crashes, Simon is back at it. Planting both hands on the table on either side of your waist, Simon stutters out, his lower back tensing, everything draw up.

Simon’s orgasm is an unraveling. All the tension melts as he finishes, and even then, he continues to thrust, pushing his cum deeper inside you. His chest heaves, body shuddering as he draws back a bit. Your breathing is just as labored.

Easing out of your body, Simon admires the bloom of cum at your entrance. He presses it back inside before helping you unbend from the table. Turning you around to face him, Simon claims your mouth in a deep kiss, his grasping the back of your head.

You form to him, and Simon’s hunger flares.

“To bed,” he says, drawing you away with a tug on your hair.

“To sleep?” you ask, smirking.

Maybe you did all this. Planned it all from the beginning.

Naughty girl.

Simon shakes his head. “Not yet.”

He releases you, and then smacks your ass for good measure. Squeaking, you scurry away toward the bedroom. Simon stands there for a moment, composing himself. Reaching into his pocket, he withdraws the business card. There is an address and a phone number.

Glancing over his shoulder at the bouquet, Simon comes to a decision. Stalking toward his duffle, Simon secures the business card in a side pocket. He’ll deal with this at work.

Right now, you’re getting undressed.

And Simon is much more interested in that.

Flowers can wait.

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

You send the final text and lock your phone, leaving it on the coffee table.

It’s just a little prank. A tease.

Kyle is always a gentleman even when he makes your toes curl and pulls unseemly sounds from between your lips. But riling him up can be just as fun. Kyle isn’t one to be jealous or even possessive of you. He’s certainly protective, and his presence always makes you feel safe, but you’re aching for something else right now.

The flowers weren’t all that expensive. And they are pretty.

Your phone buzzes. You ignore it.

It buzzes again.

When you check the screen, you see two new texts from Kyle. You stare at it, and set it back down. You’re going to let him stew and question. If anything, Kyle might think the flowers innocent.

Tapping your fingers against your knee, impatience stirring in your belly, you stare out the patio door. You need to distract yourself, but the urge to look is too strong. Snatching the phone back up, you glance at the messages.

That’s sweet, love.

But I didn’t get you flowers.

Honesty. This man is terrible at lying or hiding his feelings.

You tap out a reply.

Of course you did! Loved the note you left with it!

Kyle’s reply is instant.

Note?

You nearly cackle at the ceiling and when you hit send.

I want you tonight. You know you can have me whenever lol. No need to send flowers about it.

Within seconds of you hitting send, you phone starts to vibrate. Yelping, you nearly drop the thing. Kyle’s name and a photo of him at the beach pop up on your screen. You stare at it, allowing it to go to voicemail. He calls again immediately.

You launch off the couch, pacing as the phone falls back into voicemail. It’s a bit thrilling knowing that Kyle is likely worked up on the other end.

Answer the phone, comes Kyle’s next text, and then, I’m coming home.

Oh shit.

You are all nervous excitement waiting for him. And when he does come barreling through the door, you’re a bit shocked at the sight of him.

Slowly, he shuts the front door, striding into the kitchen where the bouquet is. He stares at it for a long moment before turning his gaze on you.

“Kyle,” you say brightly, walking toward him.

He holds up a finger and walks past you. You hear the opening and shutting of doors, of drawers being opened, and items moving around. Kyle returns, hands on his hips, concern on his features.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“I didn’t send you those flowers.”

“Didn’t you?” you reply, innocently, moving toward them.

Kyle shoots forward and begins digging through the stems. “Where is that bloody card?” he mutters.

There is no card. No note. You made it all up.

“Kyle,” you say, but he ignores you.

“Un-fucking-believable,” he says, ripping opening the plastic to see inside.

“Kyle,” you repeat, adding a bit of volume behind your voice.

Again, he ignores you, scattering the flowers across the countertop.

“When I find the fucking wanker that—”

“Kyle!”

He turns, eyes a bit wild. Kyle looks ridiculous, and you suddenly feel terrible. You reach for him, placing both hands on either side of his face. “There’s no note.”

Kyle blinks like he didn’t hear you correctly. “What?”

“There’s no note,” you repeat. “I bought the flo—”

Kyle groans loudly and places his entire hand over your face, muffling the last few words. “Bloody hell, baby girl.” He lightly pushes off, dropping his hand, and stepping back.

You grin sheepishly as Kyle crosses his arms over his chest.

“What was the goal?” he asks, leaning forward a bit.

You shrug your shoulders. “To rile you up?”

Kyle laughs, short and clipped. “Rile me up?”

“Yes,” you say slowly.

He leans in a bit more, a smirk on his face. “And what do you think was going to happen once you riled me up?”

You know that Kyle already knows the answer to this question. But he’s indulging you. As he always does.

“I didn’t think that far,” you reply, but it’s far from the truth.

You wanted to rile him up so that he’d come home and fuck you like a man possessed.

Kyle bites down on his bottom lip and you track the movement. “No, love. You did.” He straightens. “And I know what you want.”

Kyle steps into your space, his head dipping as if to kiss you but pausing just before. “You need a good throat fucking. I need an apology. And then I can give you what you want.”

“Kyle,” you breathe.

“On your knees, love. Present your mouth.”

You obediently drop to your knees, and part your lips.

“Wider,” he almost growls.

You do so just as Kyle reaches down and undoes the front of his belt. He doesn’t even look. Doesn’t flinch. The belt is gone and the front of his pants are open by the time Kyle grabs your face and brings you close.

“Tongue out.”

You do so, and Kyle taps the head of his cock against it before sliding it back and forth over your tongue. His hold shifts, falling to the nape of your neck.

“Take it like a good girl. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle draws you forward, forcing you to take all of him. Holding you in place for a few seconds, Kyle only eases you back once your gag reflex kicks in. Kyle adjusts his stance, and your hands grasp the sides of his thighs.

Kyle’s hand on the back of your neck tightens as his other hand tangles in your hair. Keeping you in place, he starts to thrust, fucking your mouth like he would your pussy. All you can do is cling to him, to hold on as he grunts above you.

There isn’t any anger there, just a stern brow and a need for control. It’s delicious. Entirely mouth-watering. Your core warms, a slickness blooming, indicating just how much this turns you on.

To bring Kyle toward his end, you make little sounds in your throat. It makes him stutter. It makes him moan. Beneath his pants, you feel the muscles in his legs tighten. And then he’s forcing you down his length, throating him entirely as he comes down your throat.

Breathing through you nose is the only thing holding you together. And when he slides you off, you cough, wiping at your lips.

Kyle’s hand caresses your cheek, drawing your gaze to him. He arches a single eyebrow.

“I’m sorry,” you say.

Reaching out, Kyle draws you up to your feet, bringing you close. His smile is soft, and when he comes in for a kiss, it is consuming.

“Now that you’ve riled me up,” he murmurs against your lips. “I’ll give you what you want.”

Kyle pulls away, his thumb pressing on your bottom lip.

“Take off your clothes. Kneel on the bed. And bend over. Got it?”

You nod, and Kyle drops his hand.

“That’s my good girl.”

John "Soap" MacTavish

Johnny’s ears are ringing.

“You better be bloody joking,” he growls at his phone.

On the screen is a beautiful bouquet of flowers. Flowers that you’re thanking him for. Flowers that he didn’t send.

And the card? Bloody fucking hell. That card is going in the shredder. Johnny will tear it apart with his own teeth if he has to. Some fucker had the bright idea to send you flowers like he’s the one you’re dating.

No. Fuck that.

Johnny might be the demolitions expert, but he knows Ghost could dig around for him if he asked. Scratch that. Johnny is asking right fucking now.

“Hey, Lt!” Johnny jogs over to Ghost and turns his phone around. “Can you trace who sent these flowers?”

Ghost’s expression behind the balaclava remains flat. “It’s a fucking photo, Johnny.”

Cursing under his breath, Johnny forwards the image to Ghost. Ghost checks his phone, enlarging the image.

He grunts. “Should be easy.” Ghost glances up from the screen. “Why?”

“Someone making a move on my woman,” replies Johnny, holding back a growl.

“Done,” says Ghost. “Give me a couple hours.”

It doesn’t take Ghost long, and Johnny has to laugh out loud.

“You fucking naughty thing,” mutters Johnny as he unlocks the door to your flat.

When he enters, you’re nearly on your toes, eager for him. It’s cute, but you need to learn first. Sure, the prank is harmless, but you were wanting a rise out of him.

Punishment is needed.

“Johnny,” you say brightly, coming around the counter to greet him.

As you arms reach for him, Johnny removes his belt. Your gaze drops, but he is faster than you. Johnny has the belt around your wrists and secured before you can even protest.

“What are you doing?” you ask breathlessly.

“Thought I wouldn’t find out?” Johnny tuts. He yanks you forward, bringing the two of you almost face-to-face. “Bought those flowers yourself.”

Johnny tugs on the belt again. You stumble into him and he spins you around. With another quick tug, Johnny has the belt looped onto one of the coat hooks embedded in the wall.

Reaching down, Johnny palms your ass, his lips pressed to your ear. “Got me all jealous at work. Had Ghost stalking the flower shop and everything.” He squeezes, and then smacks your ass. Hard.

You whimper. “Johnny. I’m sorry.”

“No apologies, love.” He kisses your throat. Your skin is soft and he inhales, savoring your scent. You’re freshly showered, and the smell of your shampoo invades his nostrils.

It doesn’t take much to rid you of your underwear. It’s just you in an old shirt and your bare ass on full display. Johnny slides his hands between you clenched thighs.

“Spread them.”

You do so obediently and a primal part of him simmers with pleasure. Johnny slowly drops to his knees behind you. He savors the view, taking his time to enjoy the sight before him. Even from here, Johnny can see how slick you are. How wanton.

He’s going to devour you. Make you beg. Deny you what it is you most want until you’re a fucking mess for him. That’s punishment enough.

Johnny tests by running one finger over your pussy. It comes back glossy. He pops it into his mouth, groaning at your taste.

“Want me to eat this pretty pussy?” asks Johnny, running his finger over you again.

You nod frantically. “Yes. Please.”

That’s a start.

Johnny leans in, the tip of his tongue playing with your entrance. He traces it with his tongue before slipping inside, slowly fucking you with it. It’s not enough, but Johnny knows this. He needs to suck on your clit and give you his fingers to make you come.

But even then, you’ll have to wait.

You’ll have to beg.

Johnny trails upward, swirling his tongue, finding your clit. He teases it. Flicks it back and forth in a steady stroke. You’re already growing wetter. You’re already moaning above him. Too bad you don’t know what’s coming.

Johnny slides one finger inside of you, pumping twice before inserting a second. You’re tight around him. He can feel the stretch.

He works you slowly, lightly thrusting his fingers in and out of your pussy as he teases your clit with his tongue. Above him, your moans come unbroken and loud. It’s sweet. He loves the sound. But Johnny knows your tells, and when your muscles begin to clench and unclench quickly, he ceases all movement.

“What the fuck,” you gasp, glancing down.

Johnny chuckles. “You have to earn it love.”

“Johnny, please,” you beg.

“What’s that, love? Didn’t hear you?”

“Please,” you say, drawing it out.

“Please what?” he prompts.

“I want to come,” you murmur.

Johnny smirks and starts fucking you with his fingers again, but doesn’t put his mouth back on your clit. It’s not enough for you. You’re squirming. Wiggling. Needing more.

“You pull another stunt like this again, love, and this,” Johnny smacks your ass with a sharp thwack, “will be red.”

“I’m sorry, Johnny. Please. Just—please.”

Johnny teases your clit with a quick swipe of his tongue. “Beg some more.”

You do. All sorts of obscene things fall from your lips. When tears form in the corner of your eyes, Johnny finally gives you relief.

He fucks your gorgeous pussy with his fingers. He tastes and teases until you’re crying out, clamping around him as you come undone.

Johnny withdraws. Straightens.

You’re still hanging on the hook.

He frees you from it, but does not remove the belt from around your wrists. Johnny presses you against him with a flat palm upon your stomach.

“Don’t do that again,” he murmurs.

“I won’t.”

Johnny kisses your throat. “To bed.”

You frown, holding up your bound hands. “But the belt.”

“Stays on,” he says, fisting the tangling leather. “Until I’m done with you.”

John Price

John isn’t one for texting.

You’ll send him a barrage of texts only for him to call you hours later asking what you were texting him about.

Which is why you didn’t think this plan would work.

But then it did, and now you’re bent over John’s lap, bare ass in the air.

John told you that he was working late to catch up on paperwork. Whenever that happens, he always gives you a call to check-in and hear your voice. It’s routine at this point. A comfort. Most of the time, he just wants you on the other side, to have you talk about the day or whatever you want while he’s working. John will usually remain silent, listening, basking in your voice.

You planned it perfectly, knowing that he’d check his phone before giving you a call. You sent the photo of the flowers. A beautiful display really. And they were on sale. You also sent him a picture of the makeshift “note” that you made for it. All it said was “thinking of you” with no name. All of that was follow up by a “thank you” and promises to please him later.

John was calm when he called you—almost eerily so. When you thanked him from the flowers, he didn’t reply. He simply pushed past it. The thing is, John saved all of that energy up for when he came home.

Your ass stings. John rubs the spot he just smacked before squeezing.

“Now, love. Tell me the truth.” He says it so sweetly, like it’s such a simple thing.

And you don’t know how much longer you’ll last under this barrage.

“You bought them for me,” you whimper, keeping up the façade.

John shakes his head. “We both know that’s not true.” He squeezes your ass again, the sting burning slightly when he let’s go.

“I’d guess you’re seeing someone else but that would be lie. Wouldn’t it?”

He punctuates this statement by slipping his hand between your thighs, his fingers running over your pussy, parting your slickness. John dips one finger inside and then another, only to retreat and grab your ass cheek with the same hand.

“I know just how to make you wet, love. You have no one else to run to.”

“I told you—Fuck! John!” You jolt in his lap as his palm comes down on your already throbbing cheek.

“Be honest, love. Or you’ll get a few more.”

You swallow down your pride. You wanted him riled up, but you weren’t expecting this. Not for John to come home, strip you down, and bend you over his lap.

“I bought them,” you grumble.

John’s hand eases. “You what?”

“I bought them,” you snap.

“I knew you did.”

Before you have the chance to form a retort, John guides you up and into his lap. He grabs the front of your throat, bringing you close to him. He does not kiss you. He simply hovers.

“You’re going to straddle my lap and bounce on my cock until I fill you up. You understand?”

You nod, and Price let’s go of your throat.

“Get to it,” he purrs.

John is fully clothed, and you’re wearing nothing at all. You undo the clasp of his belt, pull the zipper, and he flexes his hips enough that you can work his pants down a bit. When his hard length is free to you, you straddle him, lining yourself up.

He remains impassive as you start to sink down. The stretch is perfect—as it always is, and you groan as you seat yourself entirely on his cock. Gripping his shoulders, you roll up and back down, rocking when you can to give your legs a break.

John still stays quiet but his gaze is assessing. Slowly, his hand comes around your neck again, and this time he squeezes slightly. It’s not to hurt. It’s to dominate and possess.

“Who do you belong to, love?” he asks.

“You,” you murmur, sinking down on him.

“Say it again,” repeats John.

“I belong to you,” you gasp, coming up and then back down.

“Again,” and this time there’s a growl in his tone.

“I’m yours, John.”

“Fucking right,” he says, crashing his mouth to yours.

The kiss is a claiming, one that shoots through your body and consumes your limbs and control. You shudder, pussy clenching, and then John is fucking up into you, his hands on your hips.

You’re no longer in control. It’s just John, and his need to possess.

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