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loveindefinitely · 4 months

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༊*·˚ FOREVER WINTER (IF YOU GO) — task force 141 x reader

01 — TOO YOUNG TO KNOW IT GETS BETTER

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price + (non-endgame phillip graves)

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, enemies to lovers, slow burn, polyamory, ghostsoap, pricegaz, alerudy, heavy angst, requited unrequited love, graphic violence

series masterlist. read on ao3. fanfic playlist.

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You almost worshipped him.

It wasn’t because of his status – although, that certainly played a role in it all – and it wasn’t because of his bank statements.

No. Phillip Graves was one of the best men you’d ever known.

Or so you had thought.

Turns out, no matter how well he looked after his men – his ‘girl’ – and no matter how charismatic he was, that wouldn’t, couldn't change his roots. And, at those very roots, was decay. Evil in its most purest of forms; a tantalisingly devastating mix of every sin.

The most prevalent one?

Greed.

He was a greedy, greedy man, and he would stop at nothing to have it all. Even if he knew the fall out; even if he knew that he could never go back to the man he once was.

Phillip Graves didn’t care. Not in the slightest.

And it was you that would pay the ultimate price.

Rain beats down your back in heavy sheets as you stand, the harsh night littered with flashlights and car sirens.

It’s cool, just this side of too cold, and it has the hairs on the back of your neck rising with the temperature.

The temperature, and…

“Yup-yup,” the two men to your right call into their comms. You remain silent, but it goes unnoticed. Your eyes are trained to the paved street, rippling with the rainwater, littered with streaks of red.

Blood stains this town, and you haven't done anything to stop it.

“Let’s go.”

Raising your head, you meet the eyes of the operative who, ranks-wise, is below you. Really, you should be reprimanding him for his quip, but you understand the annoyance. You’re being quiet – something quite unusual for your normally direct and authoritative nature.

Tightening your grip around the shiny, water-slicked gun in your hand, you give him a sharp nod in response.

Seemingly satisfied, he turns, and you follow him along the sidewalk of the narrow, stone streets. Shops line either side of the area, their front-windows smashed and the products inside thrown about.

It’s like your heart has launched itself into your throat, the constant thrum of it setting your nerves alight.

“Three-zero, I want you and your two to find those Brits. We’ve got the cops. Copy?”

That once reassuring, adoring voice is now cold, void of any emotion he used to have. It makes tears burn at the back of your vision – if you were a weaker woman, they’d have fallen. Instead, you press down the button for your comms.

“Copy, Sir. Three-zero out.”

The fact that you manage to get those words out is a feat in and of its own.

It feels as though you’re lost at sea, with nothing to hold onto. Buoyant, but barely – every wave threatening to pull you under for good. To smother your silent cries for help, for guidance, for something to keep you grounded.

But there is no sea, and there is no support.

“You two go up ahead, I’ll search the house here,” you say, voice thick with demand. You didn’t have to decide anything right now. You just had to be the leader you were, and do what you’ve always done.

“Copy,” your two subordinates say, moving up further.

With their absence, you find that you can breathe – as if a weight has been lifted off of your chest, and you can finally fill your lungs.

You’re alive. You’re alive. You’re alive.

The mantra helps, surprisingly, and you hold onto those two words like they’re your only lifeline.

Through the thick of night and rain, you can see the door to the house on your left. It’s been left open, which means that either it’s already been searched – which you doubt – or… Someone else has been in there.

Gun secured in your grip, you move to the door with soft footing, quiet enough to not be heard over the shouts of other shadows just a few ways away. The constant pattering of the overhead storm clouds slow, just the slightest, allowing for a bit more sight.

Using your shoulder to further open the door with a creak, you take note of your surroundings immediately.

There’s a flickering light to the room on your far right, a living area, most likely. To your left is a short hallway, but none of the doors alert you of any occupancy. The place has been torn apart, pictures scattered along the wooden floor, shards of glass decorating the space along with it.

It sends a pang of guilt through your chest.

These were families being torn apart by your commander, your company. And for what? What was Graves’ angle here?

You’d been left on base to keep things running smoothly while Graves and unit one worked with the 141 and Las Vaqueros. You knew very little about any of this, and when you’d been called out to Las Almas, to aid with this?

This wasn’t what you fought for. This wasn’t what you would ever support, not in a million years.

But going against direct orders was going against your commander, and your livelihood. Shadow Company was all you’d known since your childhood. Having been hired when Graves was merely a young-upstart with big dreams, you were quickly swept up in the community of it all. They were your family, and Graves was the only semblance of a ‘loved one’ you had.

And now?

Now, he was sending you on a bounty hunt, for two men who, from your limited knowledge, didn’t deserve death. They were the good guys, and although most of your existing bias towards the two was due to rumours back on base, your intuition said that they were good men. And your intuition had never steered you wrong, not once.

Your mind feels like a never ending turbine as you move through the house, eyeing the barren walls and smashed vases.

Exhaling a low, deep breath, you tighten your hold on your weapon. It’s more of a comfort, at this point. Which is odd, considering that its sole purpose is to kill and destroy.

Through the dim light, you manage to find a set of stairs. They’re dingy, and the patterned carpet is mildew-riddled as you make your way to the next floor with slow, careful steps.

You’ve decided to keep your flashlight off, just in case it brings any extra attention to you.

As soon as you make it to the last step, a sense of… wrongness settles in your system. Something’s off, and it’s almost as if there’s an alarm ringing in your ears at the realisation.

Someone’s here.

Grounding yourself, both mentally and physically, you prepare to push through the hallway.

Setting aside your mental dilemma, you remind yourself that the physical battle is far more vital to your life right now. If you lose that, you lose your life.

If you lose your morals?

You just suppose you lose yourself.

The sound of a radio switching on has your senses alerted like a switchboard completely alight.

Stepping into the hallway, your chest constricting, you snap your gaze to both of your sides. With the little-to-no light, you can barely make out your limbs, let alone your surroundings. Your spatial awareness was solid, but with conditions like this? Near impossible.

The entire corridor is shrouded in shadow, the incessant rain outside and the screams of the cartel’s policemen ringing in your ears.

It reeks of death and despair, and your skin is coated in a thin sheen of chilled sweat.

The third door to your left is creaked open, just the slightest sliver, but it catches your attention like a moth to a flame. Keeping your frame encased in the darkest of the shadows, you move with patient, skillful steps towards the door.

A moment passes, tense and nerve-wracking in a way no other mission has ever been.

A breath in.

A breath out.

You push open the door, gun raised, ready for anything –

Nothing.

Quickly checking over the room to your right, you see nothing but bashed up mattresses and blood-stained carpet.

Just as you’re about to turn to check behind the door, two things happen at once.

One, you get slammed to the ground, your head knocking against the hard flooring and sending a burst of pain through your temple, your gun skidding across the floor to your left.

Two –

“Fuckin’ Christ!”

A man – scottish, that much is prevalent – whisper-shouts. You squint, the pain of the sudden fall throwing you off.

Not a second later, however, you manage to roll, shoving him off of you with a grunt. Your eyes struggle to adjust to the darkness, but you manage to make out the impossibly muscled frame of the man who’d just fallen on top of you.

He’s tall, not as giant as some of the men you served alongside with, but tall nonetheless. That’s all of the visual information you manage to gain before he sends an elbow to your gut, evoking a hiss through your gritted teeth.

You wriggle away, kicking out with your right foot and hitting what you think is his chin, considering his pained grunt.

“You bloody bastard,” he snaps, hand wrapping around your ankle and pulling you.

Your responding squeak is likely the most undignified sound you have ever made in your life, but it gives the man pause. Enough of one so as to allow you to wrench your leg back and careen it back into his face.

“Shut the fuck up!” You hiss back, all too aware of the likelihood that your men will show up and shoot first, ask later.

“Are you feckin’ stupid, lass?” He retorts, although his tone is dutifully lower as he scrambles to grab your legs once more, his fist finding your belt and pulling you towards him.

Your attempts to dig your heels into the ground to prevent yourself from being pinned by him are fruitless, his strength undoubtedly superior to yours. That was a fact all too common when it came to your hand-to-hand fights, but luckily, it was just one factor of many.

“Are you?” Your shock is palpable as he gets his other hand around the other side of your belt, using the grip to pull himself over you.

His torso is pressed against your own as he goes to pin your hands, but with one quick manoeuvre, you wrap your legs around his waist and turn.

Utilising your lower body strength, you’re able to reverse the position, your hips pinning his to the ground. In one sweep of your hands, you collect both of his wrists and force them into the carpet. The room fills with your harsh, panted breaths, the outside commotion only a distant soundtrack.

“Yer supposed to kill me now, Shadow,” he says, a torment, a threat.

You swallow, once, an unsure thing.

He’s right, of course. He should be dead by now, bleeding out onto the floor. You should be comming to your fucking Commander, and telling him that one of the men he’s after has just been reported KIA. That’s what should be happening.

So how come it’s not?

“I know,” you say, the words falling through your lips despite the internal conflict in your head. “You should be dead.”

He mirrors your confusion with raised brows, and it’s then that you can feel the blood trickling onto your hand. He’s bleeding down his arm, you realise with a start. He’s wounded.

Flitting your gaze to the floor up ahead, you catch sight of your gun, only a few steps away. One shot is all you’d need. One second, and that mouth of his would never open again.

The sole window in the room flashes with a burst of lightning, and that short second of light lets you catch sight of his features. Blood coats his jaw – from your kicks, maybe – and he’s got dirt caked onto his cheek. His stubble has clearly missed a few shaves, and his mohawk isn’t gelled.

“Still waiting, Shadow,” he says. And although he’s quiet, the words feel like a yell in the tense room. Like a shout directly into your soul, screaming for you to sort your shit out.

You go to respond – with what, you’re not sure – when the man underneath you manages to rip his hands from your grip and swing them around the back of your neck. He pulls you forward, your neck fitting into the crook of his elbow as he squeezes.

When you try to inhale, you end up choking on a cough. He’s strangling you, you realise, with his fucking biceps.

There’s mere moments for you to make a decision before you pass out, or he breaks your neck. Moments for you to decide what the fuck you can do.

Balling your right hand into a tight fist, you punch into his nose, a sickening crack making your teeth slide together. He swears, rapid-fire, a few Gaelic-sounding words slipping out along with them. It’s enough of a distraction to let you wrench out of his hold with a cough, wincing when you claw at his arm and draw blood. Thank fuck for fingerless gloves.

Crawling forward as he brings a hand up to his now-bleeding nose, you’re just a breath away from reaching your gun when his hand grabs into your hair and pulls, eliciting a cry from you.

It’s a dirty move, but this is a dirty fight.

“Fucking – let go!” You grit out, the pain of the tightening on your scalp unique and not at all tolerable.

He just pulls tighter in response, and as you try and reach the gun, your fingers fall just millimetres short. It’s maddening, your emotions out of whack and your mental compass skewed beyond belief.

He should be fucking dead. He should be fucking dead.

So why wasn’t he?

You realise that he’s using his grip on you for leverage, to move himself closer to the weapon. Reaching towards his bare arm, you manage to catch your hand around it, nails digging into his wet skin.

He lets out a pained groan, and it becomes quickly apparent to you that he’s been shot in that arm. Moving your fingers, your index finger pushes into the open wound.

His grip on your hair goes lax, and he stops moving towards the gun long enough to allow you to move on top of him once more, pinning him underneath your weight. You’re both evidently weaker than the last time you were in this position, and you’re about to do something, something, something –

“Johnny? How copy?” An urgent, oddly panicked voice echoes around the room. It’s crackled, in only the way a radio’s can, and the two of you stun yourselves into freezing. His communications have been dislocated, and now they��re loud and clear for both of you to hear. “Johnny, what the fuck is happening?”

“Shit,” Johnny curses, head falling back against the ground in exasperation.

You’re not sure when you’d laxed your grip from his wound, your hand loose around his arm. You’re not sure when you’d subconsciously started avoiding fatal moves.

At this point, you’re not sure about anything at all.

Although it’s hard to see, you’re sure that the two of you make eye contact.

Neither of you make a move.

“Soap!”

Slowly, Johnny moves his hand to the communicator in his vest, pressing the button to allow for his voice to carry over to the man on the other end.

“A little occupied, Sir,” he murmurs, tightly.

If you move your hand to his throat, or use this as a distraction, you could have him dead before the other man could even register his words.

“I can’t get a visual on you,” the other man quips back, voice laced with thinly-veiled worry. “Johnny, if you die, I’m fuckin’ killing your ass.”

You bite back a slightly crazed chuckle at that statement, and by the shift in Johnny’s chest, he does too.

Johnny doesn’t turn off his communicator. The other man – Ghost, if you’re correct – will be able to hear everything you say.

Ghost and Soap.

Jesus H. Christ. Soap – Johnny MacTavish – the 141 operator you heard whispers about throughout your unit – he was underneath you. He was on the run from your commander. He was the man you were assigned to fucking kill.

He’s alive.

You’re alive.

“Shadow Three-Zero, what’s your status?”

Oh, fuck. Fucking hell.

Both you and Johnny’s eyes dart to your own communicator – the earpiece scattered along the floor just as his had been.

Graves’ voice. It sends a shiver down your spine for all the wrong reasons, and the lump in your throat doubles in size. If it’s at all possible, the rain outside grows louder, and more gunshots echo in your ears.

“Shadow Three-Zero. Have you got ‘em? Don’t go two-timing me now, babe.”

How he’s – how he’s being so light, so carefree while storming these streets and murdering fathers, brothers, sons in cold blood – it cements a thought in your head. Out of the storm of them, the endless noise of them all, one becomes concrete. Factual. A single truth in your world of lies.

You press down your communicator button.

“Haven’t found them yet, sir. Wouldn’t dream of going against you.”

“Atta girl,” he responds, a light chuckle carrying over the radio. “After this is all done, we can have a celebration of our own, hey?”

Your mouth is barren of moisture, your tongue a heavy weight that feels all too useless as you reply once more. It doesn’t go unnoticed how neither Soap, or Ghost over the comms, say a word.

“It’ll be my pleasure, sir.”

You rip off your communicator, throwing it across the room. It sets the course of the rest of your life, you’re sure. You still do it.

All the while, you hold Soap’s gaze.

He hasn’t killed you. He could’ve, you realise, he really could’ve. He had the opportunity. Still does.

But.

You’re alive.

And so is he.

“What’re you doin’, Shadow?” Johnny finally asks, equally suspicious and curious. His tone is tight, almost as much as his body is against your own.

You’d almost forgotten that he’s underneath you. Weaponless, and bleeding out. Wounded.

On the run.

Your eyes are wide, manic, maybe, as you say with shaky breaths;

“This isn’t right. I – I don’t fight for this. You guys, you,” squeezing your eyes shut, if only for a brief moment, you continue, slower, “This isn’t the Graves I know. I’m not going to be on the wrong side of history. I’d rather betray him than stand by his side with blood on my hands.”

Soap must sense your conviction, your wobbly words holding such truth and capability in them, because he nods, sharply.

“Johnny,” the radio chimes in again, the man’s tone a warning. “Don’t.”

Soap works his mouth, a crease forming between his blood-stained brows. If you were at all a poet, you’d akin his blue eyes to a storm-brewed sea. But you’re a soldier, so they’re merely obvious in the window’s scarce light, a stark contrast to the reds and darkness all around you both.

You’re not sure what’s wrong with you. You’d clearly hit your head too hard when Soap had crashed into you, or you’d been drugged earlier.

“I have intel,” you blurt out, like a crazed lunatic. That description is, unfortunately, a little too fitting to your current state. “I’m – I’m a fucking good fighter. You help me, I help you.”

“We don’t need your help,” Soap quickly, almost automatically, retorts. But his words seem weak, his certainty nowhere on your own.

“You’re shot and on the run with no weapons,” you reply, slowly. Words. You were good at words, at debates. You could survive this. Maybe. “I know Graves. I know my men. And I know that I’d rather be a traitor than a war criminal.”

That’s maybe the most true thing you’d thought, or said, since you’d first been asked to head to Las Almas with an order to kill.

There’s silence.

A few beats pass before you open your mouth once more, tone just this side of pleading, “I’ll help you guys survive this. If you help me take down Graves, and support me – if you give me the assets I need. That’s all I’m asking.”

“We don’t trust you,” Soap says, and you nod.

“I don’t exactly have faith in you either. But it’s this or we all end up dead.”

Ghost inputs something, this time. “If you two make it to the church, we’ll consider it.”

That’s the most you can ask for. The best possible outcome from you being the biggest fucking idiot to walk this earth. You were lucky that Soap was… merciful. Which was, all things considered, the weirdest component of this entire, messed up equation.

It seems like agreement passes through you all, like a sort of handshake. An invisible one, but a symbol of truce nonetheless.

“Get yer ass offa me,” Soap groans, breaking the tension of the room.

Scrambling off of him, but keeping your wits about you, you realise that you’d virtually been laying on the man your entire conversation. Your ears burn in embarrassment.

“...Right. I’m taking my gun,” you murmur.

Which is, obviously, the worst thing to say.

“Are you feckin’ serious? Dinnae wanna work with an idiot, Jesus,” Soap immediately hisses out, getting up with a hand on his knee, bringing his other to press against his bullet wound with a wince. You think that Ghost says something similar, but it’s drowned out by Soap.

“I’m best with close-range, and I’m not the one wounded,” you immediately bite back, hand wrapping around said weapon and holding it to your chest, checking over the room for any more supplies. Luckily, unlike the man in front of you, you still have all of your supplies and gear. His top is thin, you think, and soaked through with both rain and blood. Your standard Shadow Company uniform still fits you like a second skin, and although wet, doesn’t soak into your bottom layers. Your tactical knife, still strapped to your thigh, is secure and perfectly in place.

How you’d not used it in that fight was a testament to your mindscape more than anything.

“How do I know ye won’t just shoot me when my back’s turned?” Soap shoots back, his tone a weapon in its own right.

You raise a brow, and you hope that he can see it. “I would’ve done that already if that was my plan. And you’re calling me an idiot.”

“You’re a right ass,” he retorts, not unlike a petulant child.

“And you’re a right dickhead.” And, alright, you realise that you’re not much better, but it’s deserved.

“And you both need to hurry the fuck up.”

You and Soap both have the decency to wince at the man’s words, and you both shut up as you finish checking over yourselves. You, focusing on checking your straps and belt, and Soap, hissing about his wound.

…If this camaraderie lasted the night, you’d think about apologising for that move.

Checking over your gun, you move to slowly open the door as Soap fixes up his radio, putting his earpiece back in its place. You are, admittedly, a bit annoyed that you won’t be able to hear Ghost’s callouts, but again, you had a gun.

“Let’s go,” you softly say, tilting your head towards the door. Soap nods, clearly ready to meet back up with his Lieutenant and get out of here.

As you slowly open the door, guns raised and eyes alert, you let the reality of your situation settle over you like the world’s coldest blanket. You’re going against everything you’ve ever known, all because of your morals that had always been slightly off-centre. Came with the job, you supposed.

But this was uncharted territory. Directly betraying your unit, your men, your Commander, and helping the men you’re assigned to kill? Asking them for their help in return?

“Clear,” you softly report to Soap, who acknowledges your order with a low noise. Following you with silent steps down the stairs, you keep your gun raised as you check over the bottom floor, before signalling for him to exit through the front door with you.

As the two of you enter the laneway once more, your breath catches in your throat as you assess the damage.

You spot several bodies littering the streets as rain hits you once more, the presence of it oddly comforting throughout it all. A truck up ahead has its lights on, the red of the brakes shining against the wet pavement like the pools of blood not three metres away from it.

“Steamin’ Jesus,” Soap murmurs from behind you, and you can’t help but agree with his sentiment.

This was pure bloodshed, at the hands of the one man you thought you could trust.

Betrayal tastes oddly sour in your mouth. Betrayal like this, on all sides, it’s like being suffocated by two cloths at once. Two very bloody, very assaulting cloths, at that.

Soap seems to be communicating with Ghost as the two of you make your way down the street, considering the back-and-forth whispers from Soap. He seems almost. Flirty. Which is a stark realisation, and truly, the least of your worries right now.

“If you can find bandages, or something close to it, I’ll get that arm of yours fixed up.”

You keep your tone low, careful of your surroundings as you see Soap nod, albeit almost in shock, in your periphery. Keeping your gaze forward, you move along the sidewalk.

The beauty of these shops, and this community, has been tarnished by the massacre of your Shadows. Your heart aches, seeing it all – the smashed windows, the blood, the distant sound of screaming and crying.

You and Soap make it about a block in silence, before flashlights ahead have you grabbing onto Soap’s shirt and pulling him into the open door of the shop to your left, heart beating rapidly in your chest.

“Shadow Three-Zero’s gone silent,” you hear a familiar voice say. Your subordinate – one of the two you’d sent to check the houses up ahead. “Reckon she’s dead?”

Soap, for his part, is silent where he’s been pushed up against the wall, your head meeting his collarbone.

“Nah. She mighta slept her way to the top, but she’s good. Probably gone dark so she can suck Graves off on the side or something.”

Your breath comes out in a sharp exhale, your fists tightening unknowingly onto the fabric of Soap’s shirt. He doesn’t even breathe in response.

The other chuckles. “Fuckin’ slut. Can’t believe she gets to order us around when we all know why she’s here.”

And, oh, does that make your stomach turn. You were many things, but you were not one to abuse a position like that. They knew nothing of your struggles, or your relationships, or –

“Fuckin’ cocksuckers,” Soap grumbles, and that shocks you. For a man in the military to recognise misogyny like that was, really, unheard of.

You ignore that thought.

“Shut up.”

He does.

The two Shadows continue walking down the street, and you quickly peer out of the front window to watch them head down another sidealley, taking their thoughts with them.

“Come on,” is all you say, and Johnny follows tightly behind you as you continue down the way you were heading.

You find an alleyway to your left, and you decide to follow it. You can see a flashlight scanning over the street further down. Shadows were everywhere, but they were pushing forward like a tsunami over a coastal town, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake.

Soap follows you without question, which is odd, but you’re not about to complain.

“Ghost says that there’s underground tunnels – we can get to the church through ‘em,” Soap murmurs as he taps your shoulder. You nod, not looking back as you search for any telling of where the best route would be.

After a few minutes, the two of you find yourselves nearing the tunnels Ghost had spoken about.

It’s when you’re about to head into the deep end – quite literally, considering the flooding – that an all too familiar and bone-chilling voice yells out from the right of you both, down another street.

“She’s gone dark – you will find her alive, and if she’s dead, you will be too!” Graves roars, and your heart skips a beat. “She could be hurt, or captured – she is your top priority now, Shadows!”

There’s a chorus of agreement, and if you look down, you’re almost certain that you’ll find your stomach laying at your feet.

A greedy, greedy man. That was what Phillip Graves was – now, more than ever.

If you were a weaker woman, a civilian, maybe, instead of a seasoned soldier, you’d have vomited by now.

Instead, you shoot Soap a look.

“Ghost still at the church?” Is all you ask.

Soap nods. “Yeah. Lt’s talkin’ my ear off,” he says with an eye roll, but his lips quirk into a half-tilted grin more resemblant of a satisfied pup.

“Didn’t think the 141 was so close,” you reply, and you could slap yourself for how nosy you sound. You’re not, not in the slightest – all you cared about was surviving both Graves and them.

Soap’s eyes hold an indecipherable gleam to them when he responds, a touch domestically, “You have no idea.”

You itch to delve deeper, to unpack that statement that seems to hold so many layers, but you keep your mouth respectfully shut.

And you prepare to meet Ghost at the end of the tunnel.

a/n. cutely drops this and hides!! jk but umm idk man this fic idea has been nibbling at my brain and GAWDDD smth about it just. got the juices flowing. this is my personality now thanks gn. if you guys enjoyed please comment or reblog or follow!! ty so very muchly ily all <3

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wildemaven · 10 months

Text

Sweet Creature: Chapter Nine

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 8k

Warnings: 18+ Blog; Fluff, a kiss of angst, talk of past relationship and break up, pregnancy scare, mopey Poppy, nervousness and anxiety, brief mentions of sobriety, smut, self doubt, public speaking, reader has the nickname Poppy- zero physical description, to dumb dumbs in love

A/N: This is a doozy of a chapter, there was so much to pack in for these two. I can’t believe we’re nearing the end, I had definite moments of sadness as I was wrapping up this chapter but also found so inspiration to help tie up the story for these two! You can listen to Dieter & Poppy’s Playlist Here. Also a big thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for constantly listening and helping me through this one, I definitely needed it on this chapter.

Series Masterlist / Playlist / Main Masterlist

Previous/ Epilogue

It had taken a few months for Dieter to tangle himself into your life.

Inching his way into your mind, settling deep within your bones and eventually finding shelter in the most sacred of places— your heart.

It took only a matter of a few short days for him to imprint himself into your home, pieces of him lingering in your space, even long after he had left.

But you can’t seem to pull yourself from the confines of your bed, each morning since his departure, you study the hollowed out spot where his worn body claimed as his, still having yet to find the energy to make it or wash the sheets clean of the hours of intensity and conversations ingrained into the plush pillow-top.

Your fingers run over the creases of the pillow, remembering how you would trace the same lines etched across his face in the early mornings, the usual scrunch between his brows smooth and relaxed, the faintest of snores escaping his parted lips— memorizing his angelic dreamy state.

A soft thread catches the path your finger continues to take. A silky strand of hair, no longer a part of him, now woven in through the fibers of your cotton pillowcase— proof he was here and existed in this space with you, with those unruly thick curls tousled with ardency, sweat and sleep— your fingers still managing to work through the wildness.

-Saturday Morning-

“What was your last serious relationship like?” Dieter asks, laying on his side with an arm bent, head propped on his hand, your bed sheet draped over his naked lower half.

His free hand mapping out the plains of your exposed skin, the morning sun filters through your bedroom window, providing a soft muted light as his fingers continue to unearth new details of your body he has yet to see in daylight.

“Oof! Hitting me with the serious stuff first thing in the morning.” The rasp of sleep still coating your throat, your body turned in close towards him with one arm tucked between your pillow and resting head, your free hand mesmerized by the texture of his skin— connecting invisible lines between each freckle painted across his neck and chest.

“Question for a question then. But you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s fine. It’s— just a lot for some people to hear. Kind of just keep it to myself, less questions and ‘how come’ once they find out.”

“Hey, I won’t judge you, for anything you tell me— ever.”

Dieter watches the way your eyes flit about for a few seconds, his hand stopping to rest on your naked hip with a gentle squeeze, a reassuring gesture of sincerity in his words.

“Frankie was my high school sweetheart, we started dating our senior year. We were together— gosh…. 5, almost 6 years.” You let out a sigh, all the memories of your previous relationship flooding back to you, having been locked away for so long.

“After high school, when we realized things were getting serious, we decided to figure out what we wanted moving forward. We were on the same page with everything for the most part, no real deal breakers. We would get married after college, buy a house— a seemingly cookie cutter life together.”

“I’m not following— sounds like the perfect life to me.” Confusion settles across his forehead, brows drawn together as he studies your face.

“Except, I couldn’t give him the one thing he wanted— kids.” You notice the way his face drops when you say it, knowing his first thought is exactly what everyone else usually assumes when you tell them.

“I guess I should rephrase that— I didn’t want, don’t want kids. It was something we established too, both on board with living a childless life. We agreed we would be the best Aunt and Uncle for our friend’s kids.”

Dieter nods at your admission, the hand on your hip starting to leave feather-like strokes the length of your side, goosebumps scattering across your warm skin.

“It wasn’t until we were well into our relationship that things changed. We had a bit of a pregnancy scare, we were both very careful too, so it was a bit of a shock when it happened. I was angry with myself— how could I let it happen? What did I do wrong? All the things running through my head the minute I saw those pink lines, wondering how we were going to afford a baby on our combined income, all while trying to get through finishing college— I spiraled pretty hard for a good week. But, through some routine testing, we discovered it was a false-positive— I was so fucking relieved!”

Your fingers still over the hollow of his neck, taking a deep breath, not really sure how Dieter is taking everything you’re saying.

“In the midst of my inner turmoil over the thought of being pregnant, I hadn’t really checked in with Frankie to see where his head was at, I had just assumed he was riding the same boat as me.”

“He changed his mind?” He asks.

“Yeah— or it was what he had always wanted, he just didn’t realize it until that week, when it was almost a possibility.”

“So you broke up?”

“We stayed together for another year afterwards, thinking we could work through it. But I couldn’t keep that from him, it would have eaten me alive being the reason he wasn’t 100% happy. We decided it was best if we split.” You can’t help the smile that starts to develop, Dieter’s receptive demeanor made this whole moment feel a little less heavier than you thought it would be.

“I ended up running into Frankie a few years ago. We caught up and I learned he ended up joining the army, Special Forces I think, met his wife while saving her from some bar creep, always the chivalrous one— and they have two little girls. I like to think we both ended up where we were supposed to be.”

There’s a prick of something that ricochets across his chest— the pairing of unaltered reverence and adoration. You just want the best for others, and it shows even in how not that long ago how you went to battle for Diem out of pure love, wanting the best for her and Wren— he respects you so much now looking back on it.

Dieter leans over and places a few soft kisses to your lips, the last one lingering a little longer before pulling away to rest his forehead on yours.

“Thank you, for sharing that with me.” He murmurs against your lips.

“Of course. My question now— What about you? Do you want kids?” You ask.

Dieter gently pushes you to your back, settling himself between your legs, peering down at you with a soft smile.

“I’ll only ever be Uncle Dude— never had the desire to be a dad.”

His head dips down to your still bare chest, the few kitten-like licks before he takes your nipple into his mouth, scorching and persistent, causing your back to arch up into him, eyes fluttering closed and mouth wide as you emit a breathless whine.

A few intense sucking motions before he gives your breast an experimental bite, his eyes observing the way your body writhes at the juxtaposition of sensations before releasing it with a pop, blowing a stream of cold air across your wet skin and watching the way your nipple instantly tightens.

He crawls up your body, one arm resting next to your head as the other snakes down between your bodies taking hold of his now hardened cock, a few quick strokes before he’s notching the head at your now dripping entrance.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t like partaking in the act.” His words punctuated by him fully sheathing himself into your cunt.

“Oh fuck! Dieter—“ Your laugh quickly exchanged for a heady moan.

Your bodies meld together in a heated indulgence. The slippery grip of dewy skin as your bodies work in a synergistic fashion, calculated snapping of hips take you both to a climactic level of bliss.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

The vibration of your phone against your nightstand draws you back from the reliving of your weekend with Dieter, interrupting the playlist streaming through the phone speaker.

You grab your phone to check who the message is from…

Mom ❤️: Hey Sweetheart! Let me know when you’re heading over. Going to sit by the pool for a bit until then. This place is beautiful, I might not ever leave! Talk to you soon!

The music promptly picks back up again with its uptempo beat, you connect your phone to your speakers in the living room, the words floating brightly in the background as you will yourself out of bed.

In route to a much needed cup of coffee, you pull on the fuzzy warm jacket that seems to have established itself as an essential element in your daily life, dropping your phone in its cavernous pocket before bringing the fleecy fabric to your face for a brief moment. It’s a cognitive experience, the inhalation of the still drenched in his signature Dieter-musk, making your insides gooey and flustered.

‘Ooh, I lose control, can't seem to get enough, uh-huh

When I wake from dreaming, tell me is it really love?’

You chuckle into your cup as you take that first sip, the words a flawless depiction, and complete coincidence of every morning this week.

A quick text back to your mom to fill her in on the day’s plans.

Poppy: Hi Mom! Had a bit of a slow morning, but I’m up and moving now! Going to shower and get ready. I thought we could go to this new sandwich shop that just opened. I've been wanting to try it. I’ll text you when I’m on my way to the hotel. Love you

Your mom had gotten in late last night, still having not seen her yet. Diem was so kind to put her up in the Capri for the weekend, your mom insisting she didn’t want to intrude and give you space.

It was her first time visiting since you had moved, but not her first time to Ojai. She had visited on numerous occasions in her travels before having you, it was usually a brief stop for a few hours to grab a quick bite and then off to her next stop.

As a child, you would spend hours browsing through her endless collection of photo albums, dreaming up your own stories about visiting her favorite places— grainy Kodak Portra 160 was her film of choice, the color grading and light leaks adding to the cinematized scenes. There was something alluring about Ojai, always spending a little extra time with those images, it had become your ‘one day I am going to move there’ place. So, when you had started actually considering moving, your mind instantly went to Ojai— it was a no-brainer this was the place you were meant to set your roots in.

A slow sip of the ambered liquid trickles down your throat, its atomic structure hitting every nerve as it slowly expands in your veins, giving you the ample amount of energy to keep you from crawling right back in bed.

A thrumming piano tune dances across the room, instantaneously reliving the moment you coerced Dieter to add it to your growing playlist, selfishly you hope the familiar high falsetto voice evokes the same memory for Dieter as it does for you when he shuffles through the songs.

Just a small town girl

Livin' in a lonely world

She took the midnight train going anywhere

Just a city boy

Born and raised in South Detroit

He took the midnight train going anywhere

-Sunday Afternoon-

“Add. The. Song. Dieter!” A purely joking dramatic version of yourself pleads with him, you sense the song isn’t a front-runner for Dieter, but you’re enjoying the banter it’s causing.

The popular chorus continues roaring through the living room where you’ve both been camped out for the last hour, switching off listening to music on bith your record player and Dieter’s Spotify account.

It felt silly when you suggested you both should create a compilation of songs that you could listen to and think of the other person— complete cheeseball move. It was reminiscent of junior high when you would download songs off shady sites and then burn the perfect cd mix for your crush, labeling it— I really like you but I’m not good with words, so here’s some songs instead— the cover art hand drawn sharpie doodles and emo quotes that could bring a 15 year old girl in love to tears. Being it was modern times, Dieter opted for a playlist of top favorite songs between the two of you, dubbing it ‘Dieter’s & Poppy’s Mix Tape.’

He wants to engrain this scene in his mind forever, your naked form cloaked in his beloved brown jacket, dancing around your living room, belting the lyrics in the most out of tune way.

“Streetlights, people!— Dieter, please! You said our favorite songs— this would be a favorite of mine! Add the damn song!!”

“This— This is your favorite song? It’s like the most overplayed karaoke song in the history of music” His cocked eyebrow as he holds his phone with the Spotify app open in his lap, finding it hard to hold off his growing smirk and not surprised in the least that it’s a top pick for you.

“I’ll have you know, I am the reigning Karaoke Queen, west of the Mississippi River— you're in the presence of royalty, Babe. Don't stop believin' Hold on to that feelin'!” Grabbing another slice of cold pizza from the half eaten box on the coffee table, you continue twirling about on your tippy toes, maintaining your off-key singing between bites.

“Something tells me your full of shit. Fine— It’s added. But I’m adding ‘You Need to Calm Down’ for tax.”

“I need to do what?” Your twirling ceases, the bottom of his jacket swaying about as you watch the way he stares down at his phone, fingers pecking at the screen.

“No— it’s a song. According to Wren, “it’s a Taylor Swift masterpiece!’” His air quotes and deadpan expression almost take you out.

“Never would have pegged you as a Swiftie, but I love it.”

“Well, it’s all she wants to listen to on the drive to school. I can’t help it if i know every word to almost every song.”

The next song plays through, Dieter continues to watch you from his spot on the couch, loving the carefree manner in which you move, your infectious smile on display as you sing along to a song you definitely do not know a single word to, eyes closed and arms stretched out letting the chorus fully envelop your mind— this whole moment solidifying his love for you.

He brings his phone up and snaps a few pictures, each image progressively blurrier as he tries to capture you dancing, his last attempt is more or less successful, the timing just right and the result an accurate depiction of how he wants look back on this time together— a flash of your beaming smile that causes your eyes to crinkle at the edges and your audacious desire to be completely yourself in front of him is a picture worth taking.

“Are you taking a picture of me?” Breathless and smiling.

“Guilty. I need something to remember this day while I’m away.”

“Okay, but take a better one then.”

Grabbing his sunglasses off the table to situate them on your face, your bare leg crossed over and kicked out to the side in an ameture Radio City Rockette fashion, middle fingers erect while your hands cover your now exposed breasts, a one-sided nose scrunch and curled lip with some semblance of a smile, all while the remaining slice of your pizza dangles from your mouth.

“Beautiful, just like the other ones.” His chest vibrates at the sight of you, he pats his thighs motioning for you to come over to where he’s seated. “Alright Karaoke Queen, get your sexy little Believin’ ass over here!”

Tossing your crust back into the pizza box, you skip-hop over to him, your knees sinking into the cushions of the couch as you straddle his boxer clad lap. His hands sliding under where his Jacket is splayed open, his warm touch glides over your thighs.

“Let me see— the others, please.” You ask timidly, not sure what ‘others’ entails, pulling his sunglasses off and tossing them to the side.

His thumb swipes and presses across his phone screen, then hands you an open folder of images, tiny intimate squares fill the screen. You click on the most recent ones of you here in your home, laughing at how ridiculous you think you look, glancing up to see Dieter’s head tilted to the side and his gaze fixed on you. Refocusing on his phone, you start swiping, so many images of times you had spent together, except you're the main focus of each photo, very much unaware of your photo being taken.

There was the afternoon spent baking cupcakes for no reason other than they sounded delicious. Flour covering the surface of the counter, while you and Wren laugh at something completely unrelated to the making of said cupcakes— equal amounts of flour coating both your hands and faces.

There’s the backyard dinner Diem had invited you over for. You were seated across from where Dieter and Diem were sitting, listening intently to something she was saying. The sun warm against your back as it had started its descent, your elbow propped on the table and chin resting on your hand, your attention focused on every aspect of the conversation.

The first evening Dieter and Wren had attended your art class together, a few of you talking about something art related and then a couple of you actually painting and drawing— your face naturally lighting up at you sharing art with others.

Each swipe revealed another image, so many of you smiling while looking off at whatever had your attention, full body laughs shared with someone out of frame, deep in thought or absorbed into something you were reading or looking at on your phone.

Seeing your life candidly curated in a digital collection of photos has so many emotions whirling through your mind, love being the most prominent one.

Your breath hitches when you scroll to the last image in the folder.

You're at the front of your classroom, a stack of papers tucked against your chest as your smile beams out to your class. You note your outfit isn’t your usual uniform, you're wearing your favorite band tee, jeans and sneakers— it’s the morning you were late and Dieter stepped in to help you out, bringing a sense of ease to your disarray of a morning.

“I think that was one of the moments I knew.” Dieter’s smoky voice cuts into the air, pointing at the image you’ve been studying a little longer than the others.

“Knew what?” Looking up from the phone to see his chestnut eyes twinkling with adoration, his hands gently rubbing against your hips.

“Knew that I needed you in my life, however that was.”

“There were others?”

“Your art class was another.”

There’s a beat of silence between you, the start of the next song picking up its pace.

“Do you ever imagine what it would be like if we would have met each other sooner than we did?” Something you’ve thought about at times, wishing you had more time with him, maybe if you had met sooner. Your fingers trace along the ridge of his collarbone as you wait for his answer.

“No— you would have definitely deserved better than who I was back then. You would have hated the thought of being in the same room as me.”

He wouldn’t have been anything close to who he is now, grateful you were never fully subjected to the asshole he used to be.

Your hand settles on his bare chest, right where his heart is beating fiercely.

“I deserve you now though. And I definitely want to be in every room you walk into.”

‘Tears stream down your face

I promise you I will learn from my mistakes

Tears stream down your face, and I

Lights will guide you home

And ignite your bones And I will try to fix you’

Your lips meet his in an unhurried embrace, Dieter pulling your lower body closer to his, his fingers digging into the meat of your backside when your hips start to gradually begin to grind against him, his cock hardening with each brush of your wet cunt.

His hands create their own intimate paths over your body, one traveling up the length of your spine, the other moving to the underside of your breast, cupping the supple weight of it in his palm. A swipe of his thumb over your sensitive nipple has you gasping into his mouth, the catalyst for your silent plea for more— and he hears it loud and clear.

His hands. His mouth. His cock— all working in perfect, articulate motions. Until you’re succumbing to the culmination of purposeful exertion and precise execution.

The last 48 hours were spent with Dieter's departure looming in the background of your minds, not allowing yourselves to stew on the impending heartache that was to come the moment you said your goodbyes.

Between the hours of relaxed conversations and alleviating desirous needs, you both managed to get through the weekend with a strong sense of optimism about the future. A shared commitment to each other, with endless promises of check-ins whenever possible and working out a plan to see each other once Dieter had his schedule set, it was enough to keep the sadness at bay— it gave you something to look forward to.

The afternoon slowly began to bleed into your final evening together, tangled limbs and intimate memories treated with exactness, fueling hushed whispers of ‘I love yous’ embedding themselves into every single part of your soul.

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK

You hadn’t been expecting anyone, the rapid knock on your front door was a complete surprise.

After confirming your name with the sweet delivery lady, she hands off the beautiful dried floral arrangement, mentioning a card was tucked into the center, wishing you a great rest of your day before driving away.

You had never seen anything like it before, an incredible assortment of dried flowers, stems and oversized leaves arranged meticulously in a ceramic vase.

Placing the flowers on the kitchen counter, you pull the small card from it, reading the small written note:

Poppy, I’m so proud of you! You’re so talented and I can’t wait to hear how tonight goes. Love you, Dieter

You smile at his thoughtfulness, missing him so much and needing to hear his voice desperately.

Pulling your phone from the coat pocket, you dial his number and hope there’s a chance you catch him at a good time.

“Hello.” There’s warmth in the way his voice cracks through the phone.

“Hi. I just got the flowers— they’re absolutely beautiful, Dieter. Thank you!”

“I can’t take full credit. Nessa, my assistant, said you might like them, something about them lasting forever. Anyways, she set up the order while I was in a meeting.”

“Well, I’ll have to thank her at some point then.” There’s some static carrying through the line as you continue your conversation.

“How are you feeling about today?”

“Good. Just finally pulled myself out of bed. Going to get dressed, then have lunch with my mom before I get ready for tonight. I miss you, Dieter.”

There’s a brief moment where it sounds like the call cuts out, looking at the screen you see it’s still counting up the call minutes, still connected.

“I— you too. ‘Ant wait— it goes….”

“Dieter?…Hello? Babe, your phone keeps cutting out.”

*Call Dropped*

The connection was lost, conversation cut short, staring at a now black phone screen.

Poppy💐: Your service must be shitty or something, couldn’t hear most of what you were saying. Call me when you can. Love you 💜

You attach a photo of the flowers along with your message. Knowing if he was in a bad service area, you wouldn’t be getting an immediate response, so you take that as your cue to get yourself ready.

Poppy: Getting dressed! Should be leaving here in 20 minutes. See you in a bit mom! 😘

Your mom’s presence was exactly what you needed today. Seeing her sitting across from you now makes you feel less overwhelmed by the fact that your boyfriend isn’t here and you’re hours away from sharing this passion project of yours, something so intimate and personal, with a room full of art loving strangers.

But even in her presence, you still find your mind wandering— Dieter being the central character of your deviating thoughts— even things outside your home, the smallest of details, reminding you of him in some way.

Bart’s across the street, a favorite spot for both of you, especially after the talk you both shared coming to an understanding and moving forward together with a new perspective on each other.

Someone walking by, where your mom and you are sitting together on the restaurant patio, was carrying a merchant bag from a store you had bought Dieter’s birthday present. There was a gold colored velvet button up shirt cover in a large geometric print that you had seen while out shopping with Diem one weekend, she had made the offhand comment that it was totally something Dieter would wear and when you had found out a few days later that Dieter’s birthday was the following weekend, you immediately went back to buy it for him.

You had also thrown in a pair of tiny Frozen charms, Elsa for Wren and Olaf for Dieter, for the Crocs you had seen him wear around Diem’s house on movie nights, in the chance he hated the shirt you knew he was a sucker for kitschy gifts— by the way he wears the shirt regularly, it’s fair to assume he likes it.

You even think of him in the most laughable ways too, like when a car similar to his drives by the restaurant, you of course immediately think of him— you find yourself to be a lost cause at this point.

“I’m so sorry, Sweetheart, I’m sure Dieter would love to be here if he could. Aside from him leaving, how was the rest of the week after he left?”

“Hmm?”

“I asked how’s your week been? We haven’t talked much since last week.”

“Oh my gosh, Mom! I’m so sorry— I’m literally the worst person to be around right now, I’m sure. I’ve been so in my head lately, I can’t even think straight.” You cover your face as you apologize for being lackluster company to her, realizing you’ve spent most of lunch off in La-La-Land.

“My week was good though. With summer break starting last week, I spent most of this wrapping up last minute grading and finishing up paperwork. Monday and Tuesday I went to clean up my classroom, just mainly clearing out old projects and lesson plans from the past year. Which then left me the rest of the week to get my canvases prepared and hung up over at Reverie, where the art opening is tonight.”

“Sounds like it’s kept your mind off of Dieter not being able to be there tonight.” She gives you a sympathetic look, and it makes you feel so appreciative that she flew out to be here for you.

“If I’m being honest, it really hasn’t. I just selfishly keep wishing he didn’t have leave so I could have more time with him. And then I hate myself for even thinking that, because I’m so happy and proud of him— he deserves this, I just miss him so much. We’ve tried to talk and FaceTime when we can, but his schedule right now has been busy, so I just sit and wait for him to call most evenings. God, I sound ridiculous!” A slight crack to your voice as you’re overcome with emotion, it’s sadness and happiness all wrapped up in a perfect little box sitting in your chest, lifting your chin up as you fight back the tears that threaten to break.

“Oh, honey.” She passes you a few clean napkins, noticing the few tears that managed to escape. “Maybe give him a call in a bit, I’m sure hearing his voice will help you feel better.”

“Yeah, I’ll give him a call when I get home. Thanks mom. I’m so glad you’re here! Let’s talk about something else, bring the mood back up. How’s retirement going?” Changing the subject to hopefully suppress your mopey demeanor, dabbing your wet cheeks lightly.

“Oh, it’s great! I’ve actually been thinking about doing some traveling now that I have all this time.”

“I love that for you mom. You should go, see the world— you deserve it.”

She shared about the places she had already started planning to visit— in and around Canada, parts of Europe, then several areas of South America. You greedily wished she didn’t want to go, feeling a steady wave of emotions rock through you at the thought of her being gone for so long. But, you know how much traveling means to her, it’s pure joy watching the way she can’t stop smiling as she shows you landmark places she’ll be visiting— a true testament to chase after the things you love.

Doubt.

Fear.

Trepidation.

A war of anxieties. Ruthless, belligerent intruders, battling for control and power. Your mind slowly forfeits, white flag in waiting, ready to surrender yourself to the helm of your own enemies.

Even with the excitement surrounding tonight, you hadn’t really mastered the art of calming intrusive thoughts and apprehension once they began to build their way into your consciousness.

There’s the brief moment where you consider getting back into your car and driving home— rid yourself of the stress and anxiety that is overcoming you at the thought of being the center of attention tonight— albeit your art the main focus, but with that will come talking about yourself and it has you ready to bail.

But, you had put so much time and effort into this collection, executing and curating an intimate journey of discovery in the form of detailed lines and brush strokes that make up a whole series of paintings you are incredibly proud of.

Breathe.

In.

Out.

Dieter comes to mind, the words he shared with you before he left:

“You were made for this, it’s who you are and it’s what you know— don’t let you be the reason you stop chasing what you deserve. I believe in everything you do, you should too.”

His words wash over you, each one forging a path for you to conquer your reluctance to seek out something that you have always dreamed of doing.

You pull out your phone to shoot Dieter a quick text before heading into the gallery.

Poppy💐: Hi! I miss you and wish you were here ❤. Hope you had a great day. I’ll have Diem take pictures to send you later. Call me when you can. Love you xo

Remembering back to when Dieter had shared something he does when his anxiety starts to surface, deciding to take a minute to borrow his technique to help ground your thoughts.

You see the vibrant lights from the front windows of Reverie Studio, the way the moon is peeking out from behind the building making its way through the sky, the streak of lights from headlights of passing cars, blurred bodies of people milling around the streets unbothered by you rooted in the center of the sidewalk, the time stamped over an image of you and Dieter as the lock screen on your phone.

You feel the weight of your phone leaving your hand as you drop it in your purse, the flowy dress that you picked out with Diem a few weeks ago specifically for this evening, a folded piece of paper with notes for the small speech you were going to give, a good luck charm in the form of Dieter’s 1 year chip clutched tightly into your hand.

You hear the muted chatter of the early birds spilling from the open door of the gallery, the mingling musical instruments in the local park showering concert goers with an original melodic song, an indistinguishable mix of hello’s and goodbye’s wrapped around gossip filled phone conversations.

You smell the sweet-vanilla-waffle confections of the little ice cream shop that stays open late during the summer, a hint of a smokey musk dusting the air reminding you of the woody spicy that’s so distinctly Dieter.

You taste the delicate flavors of a savory future, one that has a palatable balance of sweetness and verve— something so delectable that you don’t think you’ll be able to stop reveling in its richness.

BUZZ BUZZ BUZZ

Your immediate thought is it’s Dieter, pulling out your phone to see it’s instead Diem.

Diem: Are you going to stand out there all night?? Get your ass in here!

She’s standing in the window with Wren on her hip, both of them waving at you.

Feeling a somewhat renewed sense of confidence, you wait for a break in the passing cars and jog across the street to join the crowd already forming inside.

You’re completely taken aback once you’re through the front door, not by the overwhelming number of people who showed up to view your work, but by how the room is filled with a plethora of vases overflowing with poppies.

The edges of the room, table tops, display pedestals all covered in a sea of pinks, oranges and pale yellow flowers.

“So glad you could show up!” Diem and Wren wrap you in a joint hug, a warm greeting with a touch of her special sarcasm.

“Where did all these flowers come from? They weren’t here yesterday when I stopped in to do some final touches.”

“A certain someone might have wanted to surprise you with something special.”

There’s an immediate pang in your chest, his thoughtfulness and his way of showing support by filling the studio space with your favorite flowers, you have to actively fight off the urge to cry tears of happiness.

You snap a few photos, focusing on the ones that sit below where your canvases are hung on the fabricated display walls.

You can’t contain the smile plastered across your face, seeing your work being admired by those in attendance, getting a chance to catch up with friends and fellow artists and having your mom close by listening to her talk up your talent with complete strangers— all still while wishing Dieter were here bask in the excitement with you.

“If I could have everyone’s attention please.” The owners ask, the room’s noise quickly reduced to a curbed level. “We thank everyone for coming to show their support for this wonderful event. We’ll have her share more about it with you and then we’d like to say a few words afterwards.”

Applause breaches the silence as you’re beckoned to the center of the room, your paper of scribbled notes in one hand and Dieter’s chip in the other, making your way to the front of the mass of people.

You introduce yourself as you take in all the faces, some familiar and some new, Diem and your mom in a side embrace with Wren to the front of them, each person enthralled and eager to hear you share more about you and the art behind you.

“Art has always been a part of me, in so many different ways. Growing up I would tear apart my mom’s magazines to make collages of pretty pictures, sorry mom.” Glancing down at your paper as a wave of soft laughter filters around, it elicits a surge of excitement and sureness blooms somewhere deep in your soul, deciding to for-go reading anything you had written and just share from the heart.

“And then I got my first sketchbook, that thing never left my side. Always with me at school, trips to the grocery store and even on days when my mom worked late, I’d sit in the corner of her classroom and just draw— creating little scenes from memory. I filled the pages rather quickly too, pages were barely hanging on with the amount of wear and tear I had put it through. Before I knew it, I had amassed a collection of sketchbooks and canvases over the years. Art has always been a part of who I am and I think it always will be.”

Everyone seemed so fascinated by everything you’re sharing. Explaining the story behind your collection— starting as a literal dream and slowly becoming a now etched on canvas reality.

Even the collaborative piece with Dieter is hung among the others, you went the extra step to add his name onto the little artist placard:

Artists: Dieter & Poppy

Title: ‘Sweet Creature’

Medium: Acrylic on Canvas

$: (Not For Sale)

“Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to be here tonight, I appreciate it so very much, I’ll be around the rest of the evening to chat more or answer any questions. And thank you to Reviere Studio, you’ve become like a second home to me. I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to share my love for the arts with the many who attended my classes in this very space, but also to be the last art showing truly means so much to me. I will miss you all.”

Another round of applause and cheers fill the open space. You feel like it went pretty well for how nervous you were earlier in the evening, not really sure why you were doubting yourself to begin with.

The crowd slowly starts to disperse as you start to weave to where Diem, your mom and Wren are standing, getting stopped for hugs and hellos from former class attendees, congratulatory remarks for complete strangers too— you’re even shocked when Betty and Marilyn stop to share their well wishes with you.

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart, it’s all so amazing!” Your mom wraps you in praises and a tight hug.

“Thank you mom, I’m so happy you could be here!”

“I’m happy to be here too!” Wren’s excitement is barely containable as she bounces off the floor.

“I’m so happy you’re here too Wren!” You tell her as you bend down to give her a hug as well.

Standing back to your full height, you turn to Diem and just wrap your arms around her shoulders and hold her close, she returns the same energy.

“Thank you so much for everything, you are literally the best friend I could have ever asked for. I love you so much Diem!”

“God dammit, Poppy! I didn’t wear any waterproof mascara because I wasn’t planning on crying tonight! I love you too!” She pulls away and starts fanning her face, drying up the tears that had started to fill her eyes.

“Excuse me! We have a quick, exciting announcement to make before the evening continues with drinks and appetizers.” The sweet owner Susi’s voice boomed out to the guests.

Dieter doesn’t like lying, not in general at least and especially not to you— open and honest is how he continues to move forward with his life.

But this doesn’t feel like a lie, in a sense. A secret. A surprise.

Taking this role meant sacrificing his time away and that terrified him, especially being his first project to jump back into.

After a call with his agent on the drive back to LA Monday morning and a check in with his sponsor, Dieter requested a meeting with the movie’s higher ups.

That meeting didn’t happen until a few days later, but when he found out filming would be held in and around LA, Dieter learned his request for weekends to travel back to Ojai was successful.

That gave him less than 24 hours to get flowers ordered to be delivered to the gallery, let Diem in on his plan to ensure everything was in motion, all while you had no idea what was happening.

Dieter settles in the back of the crowd, tucked out of sight, finding it difficult to keep his eyes off you as you stand up there.

Watching you share about your life and how art has always been a big part of it, the two of you so similar in many ways makes him feel a deeper connection to you.

He recognizes the paper you’ve started crumpled into your hand, worn and creased from the repetitive folding and unfolding, scarred by the cross-hatching over abandoned words or shelved sentences, bullet points of importance to add substance to your speech. He likes the version you who was pacing around her living room Sunday morning, paper in one hand and pen in the other, reciting each line with a fluctuating ambivalent tone, stopping intermittently at the coffee table to rework a line or add something he had suggested. But he loves this version of you standing before him right now, no hesitation in your words, speaking with certainty and feeling— you were more than prepared.

The way you wear your confidence stirs something inside of him— trying his best to keep a low profile, because all he wants to do is scoop you up and kiss you breathless, to tell you over and over, how perfect and amazing he thinks you are.

He notices the light catching something you’re intently smoothing your fingers over, tracing repeatedly over every word— It’s not going to be easy, but it’s going to be worth it— engraved on his 1 year chip, a habit he’s welcomed into his daily routine. You had refused to take it from him when he offered it, not wanting him to be without it longer than necessary, but he had vowed to take it back the moment you were reunited. Placing it in your palm, hinting at the streak of luck it had brought him over the past year, ensuring that it would do the same for you— but he knew you wouldn’t need any.

He wants more of this— more time with you. To feel immersed back into this normal paced life and experience the joys that you feel regularly.

He has to shuffle himself around a bit when the crowd starts to move about, still trying to not be seen, watching you celebrate post speech with your mom, Diem and Wren— eagerly wanting to do the same.

The gallery owner’s announcement signals the beginning of something exciting.

He just hopes you’re as ecstatic about what’s about to be revealed as he is.

Susi takes a moment for everyone to quiet down and focus their attention on her before continuing her speech.

“Earlier this year, we had made the difficult decision to close our doors— deciding it was time to seek out a new chapter with new adventures and close this chapter on Reverie Studio.”

You’re sandwiched between Diem and your mom, hands intertwined as your head rests on Diem’s shoulder, somber as Susi’s heartfelt words about the studio’s closing.

“But we have some exciting news to share with you all. The gallery and studio are now under new ownership and will continue to stay open. It will be under a new name, but will still retain what Reverie had previously been known for— classes, art openings, studio space. And while we’re sad to hand it over, we’re excited to see it continue to serve the community.”

The delighted commotion pours out into the streets, catching the attention of passersby’s curiosity.

“So, we welcome you to the new home of Les Coquelicots Studio. The new owner is somewhere here in the audience too.” Heads begin to turn, seeking out where this mysterious owner is, when Susi points towards the back of the room and waves. “Ah, there he is. Please be sure to make him feel welcome and thank him before you leave. Thank you all again for coming and have a wonderful rest of the night.”

Music begins to brim over the conversations that start to pick up, guests dispersing to fill their small plates with finger foods and refilling of drinks, ambling about observing your artwork and surrounding art pieces.

But you're too focused on the fact that you had no idea that the space wasn’t closing, as you continue turning about scanning the room for the new owner.

Everything stills.

No sound.

No horde of people.

Just him.

Dieter Bravo.

All Dieter-like too, leaning against the back wall, hands secure in his pockets, the slightest tick of his jaw punctuating his dimple.

Your brain is actively working to re-hardwire your body to function properly, but you’re motionless. Speechless.

He’s here, propelling himself forward and making his way to you, even as he stands before you, it doesn’t feel real.

“Surprise.” His voice nearly takes you out, it hasn’t been that long since you had last spoken, but you’ve missed its gravely tone so much.

“What are you doing here? I thought— I don’t know what I thought because I can’t think straight at the moment. How are you here?” Dizzy with total surprise and confusion.

He leans in, laughing at your flustered smile, hands slinking their way to your face, his touch charged with fervor as his thumbs sweep over the apples of your cheeks.

“Came to see my girl.” He smiles softly, his words a breath away from where you want him most.

You close the distance between you, his lips fitting perfectly against yours, unbothered by the room full of people around you. You knew you would never get that same feeling or experience like with your first kiss, but this is second best and you welcome it fully.

Before the kiss has a chance to turn into something more than what is appropriate for the setting, you pull away, resting your forehead on his, breathless and happy.

“It’s you isn’t it— You bought this place?” The answer is clear as you look into his warm eyes.

“I did.”

“Les Coquelicots? Monet’s painting?”

“Poppies.”

This is it. Your forever. With him. Always.

“I know how much this place means to you, think of it as a thank you— for giving me a chance, for believing in me.”

“You didn’t have to buy me an art gallery as a thank you, dinner would have been fine.” Your fingers catching the rampant tears streaming down your cheeks, emitting a breathy laugh.

“We can go to dinner after this then.” His words mumbled in a kiss against your forehead.

“You still didn’t answer my question— How are you here? What about your movie?”

“When I found out we would be shooting locally in LA, I told them I had one request— that I was able to go home every weekend if I wasn’t needed on set.”

“But your home is already there?”

“I’m selling my home in West Hollywood— my realtor is getting it ready to be listed next week, hopefully moved out by the end of the month. So I can move home.”

It goes without saying that you know what he means, but you want to hear him say it out loud.

“Do you mean here? You’ll be moving here?”

He nods his head in response.

“What if this place gets too boring for a big movie star like yourself?” Biting your lip with a hint of a smile.

“Poppy— wherever I go, you bring me home.”

The kiss is short, but full of a warmth you crave when he’s in your presence, your arms linking around his neck as he pulls flush against, white knuckle grip on your hips— the two you lost in each other as the work around you carries on.

“Hmm— so, you’re gonna move in with Diem permanently?”

“Nah, I’ll find some place eventually.” He winks, no real rush to move in together, but he sees it as an option at some point in the future.

“Well, if you’re over living with your sister, I have a comfortable couch with your name all over it.” You snort at your offer.

“Poppy, I’m not sleeping on your fucking couch.”

“Suit yourself then.” You mirror his wink before pulling him in for another string of small pecks.

“I love you, Dieter.”

“I love you too, Poppy”

#sweet creature series #dieter bravo x you #dieter bravo x f!reader #dieter bravo x reader #dieter bravo x fem!reader #dieter bravo x female reader #dieter bravo #dieter x poppy #pedro pascal #wildemaven writes

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showtoonzfan · 10 months

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Charlie and Vaggie are certainly not in good hands with how Viv has written Loona, and it’s funny because Loona is like…the only exception to a female character in Helluva actually being 2 dimensional and struggling with something that’s OUTSIDE of her dad, unlike Octavia who’s whole character is to be upset at Stolas at this point, meanwhile Millie has fucking nothing but that’s besides the point.

Taking out the fact that Loona is just..hard to sympathize with like many HB characters, her having social anxiety as well as living with the fear that people wouldn’t like her when she’s angry and painting her out to be some monster is…not a bad idea at all, you just need to be a smart writer who knows how to write engaging conflict and dedicate time to their struggles and other sides, something Viv is incapable of doing because she doesn’t know how to make her female characters interesting without gushing over a man or being attached to cheap angst so the audience can feel bad for them, and clearly has no intention to actually dedicate time to exploring them since this is the Stolitz show and we don’t have time for exploring other characters outside of Blitz or Stolas’s perspective. 🙃

And don’t get me wrong, Spring Broken wasn’t a masterpiece either, but good GOD, episode 8 is just fucking EMBARRASSING to watch regarding Loona’s writing, for any writer looking to write a female character, her dialogue and actions will make you hurl, it’s so empty and lifeless. It felt like there was zero effort put into diving into her struggles, because there wasn’t. This episode was nothing but a music video but adds the plot of Loona going to a party to cover it up as a Loona episode. Viv had no fucking clue what she was doing, she makes Loona more unusual then she normally is, making her hard to read at times and then hilariously flip flop. The first half of the episode she barely has any dialogue, she gets upset at a group of hellhounds being mean to her and then stands there and looks awkward for the second half. Beezlebub certainly makes a jarring first impression, but she’s genuinely nice and outgoing, and Loona just…out of nowhere decides to leave for a reason that’s not really clear other than she has to call Blitz for the plot to move forward, and then acts hostile towards Bee for no reason when she was concerned about Blitz.

When she was in distress and wanted to leave, rather than a scene of let’s say…her venting to Blitz about how much she feels people hate her, how scared she is that she’ll never make friends because of her reputation, how insecure she is that Beezlebub seems more fun and outgoing than her that maybe Tex wouldn’t even want to be friends with her anymore, literally anything to actually have her talk and dedicate time to her struggles, Blitz could have even comforted her or encouraged her to go back in, but NAH, what turns her confidence around suddenly is simply because a hot Hellhound flirted with her. You’re so good at writing women Viv bravo, you have a female character battling trauma and social anxiety but lusting over a man is what makes her confident. Seriously….the way Loona goes from “let’s just go this isn’t working” to “Hehe I mean we could give it another try 🤭💕”- in the span of like…2 seconds was laughable.

Out of all of this I think the most insulting thing is that when Loona finally DOES make friends and socialize with other hellhounds, it’s not even the focus. We don’t even get to see it, it happens off screen expect for this one moment of her chatting with two dogs expect there’s no dialogue and just fucking puppy noises.

I get that this episode was filler but that doesn’t excuse the unfair and shitty writing Loona once again gets. 🫤

#vivziepop critical #spindlehorse critical #helluva boss critical #helluva boss critique #helluva boss criticism #helluva critical #helluva boss Loona #helluva boss

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itsscromp · 4 months

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If I lose you…

At this rate when it comes to me and @callofdudes and the ideas we make, we should start our own duo writing blog lol 🤣🤣 but enjoy our amazing idea that we cooked a long time ago this is based on the fan theory that went around. Warnings: canon-typical violence, zombie stuff, gore and death. Word count:1.1K

You and Ghost were tasked to head over to ground zero where the infection began and clear out any remaining infected before one has the potential to breach the containment zone and spread across to the nearby towns, they were already struggling alone with the waves of infected that come and go.

"Masks on" Ghost said as you two then hopped out of the helo and headed in. Your heart was beating a mile a minute heading inside the infected zone, the fight or flight really kicking in. Ghost then saw your anxiety and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder looking at you. "Stick with me and I'll keep you safe. I promise" He looked at you with such sincerity in your eyes. "Ok..."

The mission was progressing smoothly until a swarm of infected came after you when you accidentally kicked a metal can on the ground, Forced to defend yourselves, you both opened fire at the swarm which unfortunately attracted more infected. As Ghost continued to fire at the swarm, he didn't consider that one would lunge behind him and bite into his neck. Screaming out in pain, you turned around and saw him "GHOST !!!" You shouted as you pulled out your knife and stabbed the infected in the head. You got him up and began to run out of the swarm, tossing a decoy grenade to distract them.

Once out of the containment zone, you tried to recon Bravo-0. "Bravo-0 this is sergeant y/n, we need evac and medical, over" You tried to remain calm as you awaited back only to be met with static. "Bravo-0 this is y/n, we need evac, over" Met with static again. "Fuck !!"

Ghost grew scared by the minute, he was infected, and he was going to turn into them. fuck fuck fuck !!

He then looked around and then saw a boulder nearby... If he turned... he would go to bite you... He didn't want to hurt you, his best friend. So he picked up the boulder.

You were busy continuing to recon price over and over only to be met with more static, but that was interrupted when you heard a loud crunch and a grunt of pain. You turned around to see the stone in his hand... and his jaw dislocated. "What did you do !!!" You rushed over to him inspecting the injury, All he could muster was to gurgle in pain.

Fuck, you needed to find shelter to be able to signal for help and treat Ghost as well. Getting him up, making sure he is comfortable, you begin to head deeper into the woods, finding an abandoned cabin, it'll do for now. You entered inside gently placing Ghost down and starting a fire. You could see how much distress he was in. You gently took his hand and gently squeezed it, his skin was freezing cold. "We're gonna fix you buddy... I promise"

The next morning, you woke to see Ghost still awake, his skin now paler and his eyes pure white... The infection was progressing in his system. But his humanity maintained as he saw you, reaching out for you. You went over and took his hand and gently squeezed it. He didn't want to leave your warmth... It made him feel safe in this dark time. Then you heard his stomach started to growl. He was hungry.

"I'll... I'll go get something for you to eat ok..." You started to get up, only for him to grunt, trying to keep you with him, please don't leave me.

"I promise I'll be back.." You gently squeezed his hand and left, keeping him near the fire so he could remain warm.

You went outside and went to go and find any source of food. Looking high and low, until you found a deer carcass, you could bring it back and use the meat from it... it could work. So dragging it back to the cabin, you set up a bonfire outside and began to skin the deer to cut out the meat. As you began to cook it, Simon could smell something, It wasn't the meat... It was the discarded organs of the deer. it smelt... delicious.

He crawled over and then began to eat the organs, blood smearing all over his face. As you cooked the meat, you heard the squelching noises from Simon... Looking up you were slightly horrified by seeing it. But he looked up at you with the familiar humanity in his eyes. Maybe... he has the symptoms... but he's still there... As he finished his food and you began to eat yours, you saw the blood smeared all over his face. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up buddy..." You brought him inside and then poured some water from your water bottle onto a cloth, beginning to gently wash his face from the smeared blood... You saw him watch you throughout, his white eyes piercing through you, then came a gurgle from his mouth.... "Y/n...." He gurgled your name... Making you begin to tear up. "I promise... I'm gonna fix this... I promise"

Over the coming days, you continued to do the same routine, finding food, bringing it back, and trying to contact Price or the others. Simon's condition slowly worsened by the days, his skin beginning to decay, and even his jaw was too.

But one day, when you came back from looking for food, you noticed as you got in. Simon wasn't in sight.

"Simon..." You looked around, soon hearing a low growling sound coming from the corner of the room. "Simon is that you..." You slowly walked towards the noise, turning on your flashlight and seeing him, staring into the corner. Your fight or flight modes kick into high gear. "What are you looking at..." You walked closer but then accidentally kicked a couple of bullets on the ground, turning around, you could see it... He was gone... The infection took over as he growled louder.

"Simon... don't make me do it..." You reached for your side arm and pulled it out slowly as he rose from the floor and began to waddle to you. Clicking your gun you prepared for anything...

He stopped for a bit, You hoped that humanity would come back to him before he then began to charge at you. You didn't think until you heard the bang from your sidearm. Then came a thud before you looked down. You shot Simon... Seeing the blood pool around your boots. Fuck... you killed your best friend...

Dropping the sidearm, you frantically cornered yourself as you began to sob. You killed him, you promised you would fix him. You couldn't live with this guilt that you carried, not even when they finally found you and took you back to base. You couldn't live knowing the knowledge that you killed your best friend...

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

#platonic #reader insert #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley imagine #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost imagine #zombie simon riley #zombie ghost #call of duty zombies #call of duty x reader #call of duty imagine #call of duty

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thetriumphantpanda · 10 months

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congratulations on your amazing milestone my love 💜

this was nearly impossible to choose buuuut what if it was mirror sex and breath play with Dieter? what if that please?

WHAT IF I WROTE IT HAN?! WHAT THEN?! Heh. My first ever bit of Dieter writing so please be gentle with me, but I hope you enjoy regardless!

Thank you so much Han, I really appreciate the love! I think it was your reblog of my first Javi P mirror sex 👀 that made my followers explode a little, so thank you for always supporting me. 🧡

Pairing | Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

Word Count | 1.4k

Warnings | Explicit, 18+ Minors DNI. Mentions of smoking weed, MIRROR SEX, breath play and unprotected PiV sex.

Part of my 1k Smut Sensation Celebration - if you want in, check here for details - I’m accepting requests through July 15th.

He’s bored. You both are. Dieter’s break from work seemed like a really good idea at the time. A chance for him to recoup after back-to-back projects and a chance for what was a new relationship between the two of you to have time to actually blossom. Neither of you had really thought about Dieter’s need to be constantly entertained, his fingers itching to do something. Anything. All the time.

He'd woken up from his second weed-induced nap of the day about twenty minutes ago and was already up and pacing the room, taking books from your shelf to flick through hoping something would catch his eye, or channel surfing the TV to try and find something to capture his attention. On the forty-fifth click of the television remote, because you were keeping count, you lost it.

Pushing yourself up from the couch, you grab hold of his wrist, “I can’t fucking take it anymore.” You mumble, pulling him up and dragging him down the hallway of your apartment.

You didn’t really have a plan on what to do once you got here, but you push him by his shoulders into your room, pushing him back until the backs of his knees hit the bed and he tumbles backwards. He grabs hold of you at the last second, causing you to tumble down with him, ending up straddled above his hips.

You bend forward and start trailing soft kisses across his jaw, feeling his hands come to your ass where they squeeze, enough to have you whining for more. You push back slightly and feel Dieter’s already half-hard cock through his plaid pyjama pants. You loved this, the way he was always so receptive to you. You shimmy down his body a little, letting your own clothed core grind down into him.

“Fuck, baby,” He spits out, hands flying to your hips to help guide your movements, dragging you slowly to grind against his growing erection, “Can’t believe I get to fuck you as much as I want now.”

“I think you’ll find this was my idea,” You grin, moving to rip your tank top over your head, nipples pebbling almost immediately in the cool air of your room, “And I’ve got an idea.”

Dieter sits himself up, wrapping his arms around your back to bring his mouth to your tits. He’s running the flat of his tongue over a nipple, using his teeth to make tiny bruises on the delicate skin around them, before he switches to the other side. It drives you wild, how this man has absolutely zero patience in any other part of his life apart from this, where he will happily spread you out and tease you for hours before giving you want you really want. One of your hands is running through the messy curls on the top of his head, the other draped across his shoulders as you continue to grind yourself down on him. You can already feel your pussy soaking through the material of your pyjamas.

“Well, go on then,” He insists, finally pulling away from your chest, “What’s your big idea, baby?”

You extract yourself from your place on his lap, standing at the foot of the bed, shedding the last item of clothing you were wearing, “First of all, stand up and take your clothes of.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He shoots at you, before scrambling from the bed, t-shirt dragging over his head to join your pile of clothes on the floor.

You know Dieter enjoys it when you boss him around like this. He likes being told what to do, how to please you best, what you like so he can do more of it and what you don’t like so he knows what to stop. He likes it when you ride him, using him to get yourself off being finally telling him he can come too.

Watching closely as he pulls the plaid down his legs, a smirk on your lips when he grips his cock in his fist and starts pumping himself, the idea forming in your head is becoming more enticing by the second. You wordlessly walk over to the full-length mirror in the corner of your room, placing flat palms on the glass. You look over at Dieter, who is watching with glazed eyes and an open mouth as you push your ass out and spread your legs, “Well, come on, big boy,” You coax, “Come fuck me where I can watch.”

He's behind you in minutes, spitting into the palm of his hand to coat his cock before he’s lining up with your entrance, slick from the work of his mouth on your tits, and pushing into you, slowly letting you take each and every inch of his cock until he’s buried inside you to the hilt.

You’re making direct eye contact with yourself in the mirror, the sight of your mouth dropping open turning you on even more than you already were. Dieter lifts his head once he’s found his rhythm of slow, languid thrusts, smirking at the way you’re watching yourself.

“Don’t I always tell you you’re the most beautiful when you’re getting fucked?” He groans into your ear, one of his hands coming to grip your chin to hold your stare steady in the reflection, “Believe me now, baby?”

He’s picking up the pace now, you can hear the slap of skin as his hips meet the skin of your ass, and when he finally hits that sweet spot inside you, you practically sing for him, letting your eyes trail down the mirror to watch as your tits bounce with every thrust. It’s delectable, really, but it’s still not enough.

You move one of your hands from the mirror to drag his from holding your chin, to holding your throat. You’re looking at his eyes in the mirror as the widen, his hips are getting sloppy but still manage to drive you insane.

“Go on,” You encourage, “You can squeeze a little.”

His wide palm is covering most of your neck, a thrill travels all the way down your spine as he does squeeze. It’s light and gentle, barely enough that you can feel it, but it’s enough to have your pussy clenching around him.

“Harder,” You beg, and he pulls his cock almost all the way out before slamming back into, “No, Dieter, my neck, squeeze it harder.”

He does another tentative squeeze, tightening the way his fingers are gripping the skin to the side of your neck, which moves the pressure of his palm. You can still breathe, but it’s enough for you now, a devilish giggle falling from your lip, “You like that?” He asks, having not let up with the bruising pace of his hips, “Like when I choke you?”

He lets up the pressure so you can talk, “Love it,” You moan, and then he’s squeezing with a similar pressure again, “I fucking love it.”

“Look at yourself,” He’s back at your ear, “Stuffed full of my cock and begging me to choke you,” He nips at your earlobe, “Put your fingers on your pussy and come for me, baby.”

You don’t need to be told twice. You lock eyes with him in the mirror, sticking two of your fingers into your mouth, swirling your tongue over them, much like you’d done on his cock the night before, before they’re between your legs and rubbing hard and fast circles over your clit.

Dieter applies pressure to your throat again, his grip a little tighter than the last time, and you’re done. The pressure at your neck means you can do nothing by let a whine drop from your lips as pleasure bursts through your body to settle on every nerve ending you’ve got. Your legs feel like jelly, if it wasn’t for Dieter finally pulling his palm from your neck to hold your hips as he brought himself to the edge, you’d have fallen.

He’s pulling himself out of you, fisting his cock a few times before you can feel the warm ropes of cum spilling over your lower back and your ass. You feel him run one of his fingers through the mess he’s made, before he’s bringing his fingers to your face and watching in the mirror as you suck the finger into your mouth, tasting him.

“So fucking hot, baby,” He’s smirking, reaching down for the t-shirt he was wearing yesterday, thrown to the floor without a second thought, before he’s using it to wipe the rest of his cum from your skin, “You wanna get high and order noodles?”

You turn around, letting your back hit the cool glass of the mirror as he kisses you, “Hell yeah, I wanna get high and order noodles,” You grin against his lips, “You’re rolling though.”

#Dieter Bravo #dieter bravo fic #Dieter Bravo fanfic #dieter bravo fanfiction #Dieter Bravo smut #Pedro Pascal #the bubble #Dieter Bravo x you #Dieter Bravo x reader #Dieter Bravo x female reader #Dieter Bravo x f!reader #the bubble fic #PSSC

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booburry · 5 months

Text

Double Trouble Dieter Bravo x F!Reader x Javi Gutierez One Shot

Cont. of Pivot

Summary: Dieter & Javier Gutierrez are working on an upcoming project together and, to help with their creative process, they are spending more time together. The first time you meet Javi, it started with an intimate dinner and ended with the three of you in bed.

Tags (I have probably missed some): No use of Y/N, Dieter & Reader established relationship, Sober Dieter, Dieter still being chaotic, Javi being soft and seduced, Reader being a switch, oral (male & female receive/give), two boys kissing and a little more, DPV, Threesome (duh), Possessive!Dom Dieter, Passionate!Praising Javi, Quickie, Tiny bit of Sub!Dieter, Dieter still being soft outside of sex, Dieter being Poly, Pet Names, Spanish Pet Names, Reader speaks Spanish (writer does not), one single and much needed use of 'Papi', Author is in no way capable of speaking Spanish, was literally told by her Spanish teacher to drop the class to better spend her time doing anything else, and used copious amounts of various google searches to try to ensure it's accuracy while providing absolutely zero guarantees...except for 'Papi'.

A/N: Real quick, I never meant for it to be this long but I don't apologize for it lol. I want to be bold and say you will all love it, while also being too nervous to see if you do...these men have obviously taken a hold of me. I have also become obsessed with the idea of these three becoming a throuple and I greatly intend on making this a 'Slice of Life of the Rich & Famous' series. 65/35 split of smut to plot lol. As always, feel free to let me know if you enjoyed it ♥♥♥

Word Count: 17.3k... Thank you @cafekitsune for the banners

“Dieter! Dieter!” Another reporter called him over as you both stepped away from finishing a different interview—how many you had done at this point? Countless, and quite honestly, you didn’t entirely care to keep track. The only thing your eyes, body and mind wished to keep track of was looking at Dieter in his purple velvet suit that swirled with a beautiful pattern of roses done in black velvet. His beard and mustache were the perfect mix of messy and neat, his untamed curls in full form on top of his head, and a bright white pocket square that had made you crazy when he placed it in there.

It was always the stupidest shit that turned you both on with the other—or maybe Dieter and you were just always horny and perpetually DTF for the other.

Oh, and of course the man went nowhere without his signature sunglasses. ‘You can never get rid of the sunglasses, Dieter!’ his agent had told him after the Documentary boomed, followed by all of the paparazzi photos of him in his housecoat and sunglasses. It was now part of his ‘brand’ and despite how much that concept sickened Dieter, he played along. He admitted he was able to stomach some aspects of what he frequently called the ‘circus shitshow’ of the biz.

Dee guided you towards the woman holding an E! News microphone, his free hand reaching up to cover yours that rested on his arm. You knew he couldn’t walk away from any interview request, bound by contract as his agent had become quite savvy with keeping little, to no, loop holes that let Dieter get out of press and promotion work.

But that also meant his contract usually held very broad terms her agrees to in regards to press and promotional tours and award shows if he isn’t nominated. Thankfully his agent wasn’t an absolute shithead and bent to Dieter’s will when he really didn’t want to do something. For everything you disliked about him, you could agree and confidently say that he cared about Dieter’s wellbeing…he just cared more about keeping him famous, in demand and constantly bank rolled.

It was the reason he flew out to LA next week to record some voiceover for Netflix on some documentary series. Dieter promised you, when he told you about taking this job, that he would make sure to do the closest to his bedroom voice as they would allow. That made you forgive you for leaving you alone for a few weeks while he took care of a stack of work his agent had set up for him while he was in the states.

You saw a lot of phone sex and video calls in your future. A thought that did not make dealing with the constant interviews any easier.

Sensing your tenseness, and always ensuring to be soft and gentle with you in these moment, Dieter gave your hand a small squeeze, bringing you out of your thoughts to look up at him and see him smile at the reporter but you knew, from that squeeze, it was for you.

He knew you hated the sudden spotlight on yourself, on your past life, and your growing relationship with Dieter that came with the release of the documentary. He knew that these events made you feel tense and nervous, and he knew the only reason you attended was because of how much he needed you to be there for him. He knew you put on a brave face, being ‘a model actor’ as he would tease you, and happily play the role of the loving and supportive partner who embraced the spotlight.

It was the ‘embracing’ part that was incredibly difficult and where you needed to act. Loving and supporting Dieter was easy to do because you do love Dieter, you do want to support him and you were so unbelievably happy for his resurgence of recognition for his work because of this documentary and from the world seeing his fall from grace and his climb back up.

The world had fallen in love with him; his chaotic, honest, unabashed, self. Just as you had.

But that also meant the world had come to know you, and although quite a lot of them supported you both, even reached out to you and thanked you personally for saving Dee or for inspiring them to get help, there were a loud few who hated you for it. For being with him, and nothing else. It was shallow and you paid it no mind, until you were on the red carpets and suddenly you were self-conscious about what will be said of you after this. How would you be picked apart this time?

You ran your thumb along the bottom of Dieter’s hand, desperate for his comfort and immediately, as he settled in front of the reporter, he wrapped his arm around you and held you close to him, sensing and knowing how desperately you needed him as your pillar right now.

For all of the complaining he did about attending these events, he always thrived once in the moment. You always teased him for it and he always insisted he only enjoyed them because you were there. Together, you both stood strong.

“Elle from E! News.” The woman greeted the both of you as you finally approached.

“Hello, Elle, from E! News.” Dieter greeted with a cheeky smile and you knew his eyes were raking over her entire body behind his sunglasses—the thought helped you smile for the camera.

“Hi.” She said with a short and unintended pause as you saw her cheeks darken past the shade of her blush, obviously sensing Dieter’s depraved thoughts. “Um, the public has become enamoured with your story, seeing the rawness of your state throughout the documentary, seeing you rise from it. How does it feel to have that recognition and support?”

Dieter’s free arm swung to his side as he lightly rocked back on his feet, preparing himself to give a slightly varied answer to the same question he had been receiving all night.

“Well, Elle from E! News, I must say that it feels great and that it’s immensely appreciated. It’s one of the...many,” Dieter stressed the word with a dramatic swing of his head to look at you, the sudden and unexpected attention making you drop your gaze and try to suppress a bashful smile, “many, things that keep me on track in my life of sobriety.” He concluded and you could see from the corner of your eyes he was still looking at you, his adorable half-smile on his delicious lips—the same lips that had been between your legs on the limo ride here.

Despite what you wished to do, you knew you had been looking down for too long for this interview, and needing to avoid ridicule you raised your gaze to meet his, only to see his mustache twitch at your brave efforts.

“Yes!” The reporter continued as you and Dieter watched each other with a deeply loving gaze. “The public have also become openly supportive of the two of you! Especially after seeing the beginning and how it blossomed throughout the documentary. That steamy photo of the two of you in the pool.” Thankfully you had heard this story and topic enough to no longer blush when speaking about it publicly. Privately it was often used as an aphrodisiac between you and Dieter, but unlike him, you were not an exhibitionist for the camera and general public.

When you first realized it was going to be included, it enraged you knowing that the fucking cameraman had filmed god knows how much of your time with Dieter in the pool, now locked behind unaired footage. Despite your annoyance of this, however, it was a fact that only excited the shit out of Dieter. Something you had proof of as he had, during the showing at the premier, brought your hand over to feel his hard cock pressed against his pants when that moment was on screen.

But, by that point in time, his enjoyment of others watching him or him watching you with others was a well known and explored thing between the two of you, so it was no surprise what he had you feel at that moment. Shit, the first time you two had sex he told you he wanted others to hear how well he made you feel, how good he fucked you. In truth, it had become something you had started to enjoy more than you ever expected.

But not here. Not in these situations.

But at the premiere? Shielded in the darkness of the theatre? Well…you made sure to give his cock a short, loving squeeze before reaching up to pinch his chin, the auditorium chuckling with many eyes turning to you both when the pool clips had ended.

That part of the documentary was followed by some interviews of a few cast and crew saying how they had heard it happening, heard you, and that they all ran out to take a peek for when round two had started.

Round two was you riding Dieter on one of the lounge chairs after you both had lazily floated around the pool, giggling, flirting, and getting closer. Until the flirting got more serious and you were kissing more than talking, your hands starting to travel and take. When you felt how hard he was for you, how much he craved you…you had to take it for yourself.

It was with round two that you realized that despite how ferocious and possessive Dieter was with you, privately, he also loved little more than to be under you, submissive to you…your good boy.

Thankfully there was no footage of that, but the testimonials were enough to solidify that moment as a main talking point for Dieter in these interviews—which you didn’t mind as long as you didn’t have to be present for them.

“Yes, the famous scene…” Dieter cut in with a smile, his free hand reaching up once more to cover yours, giving you a small and loving squeeze, while his arm around your back steadied you. “What people don’t always focus on when thinking of that night, and let’s be real Elle from E! News...we all know what everyone is thinking about when watching that scene! But that night was the moment it all changed for me, this beautiful, amazing...” Dieter lightly shook his head, his eyes bulging as he seemed strained in thought, “there are no words to describe what she means to me, what she has done for me.” He confessed, kissing your cheek, purposefully lingering long enough for his mustache to tickle your skin and leave you with a smile.

“You have said in many interviews that she is the reason you attended treatment, is that right?”

“Yes!” Dieter almost yelled into the microphone. “A million times yes! Not only that, she helped me finally accept that what I was doing was...because I wasn’t addressing the things I needed to. I was heading for rock bottom and she allowed me to pause for a moment and pivot out of that trajectory. You...” Dieter paused a moment and you could feel his hand on yours lightly shake, the muscles in his body tense, as you knew the dreadful thoughts that seeped into his mind at this moment. “You would have a completely different man standing in front of you now if it wasn’t for her.”

Dee did a good job at keeping his voice level, but his tone was unmistakably solemn. However you could hear the strain, the tremor, the fear that encased those words.

It was the future that plagued him, the one he had been running towards while surrounded himself in chaos, the one that terrifies him to admit he wanted or felt deserving of at one point…horrified at the idea of slipping back to it.

It was those thoughts that always kept him up at night, the ones that had him weeping in your arms when he got out of rehab, and still to this day will occasionally do. Dieter was not normally one to be soft, especially when you first were together. It would have been easier to pull a tooth from his body, to have him go a month without sex, than have him talk about what was truly bothering him. Rehab thankfully helped that, and slowly since then it was easier for him to be more vulnerable with you, and you cherished every fucking moment he was.

“Well, I can confidently say that the world is grateful that you both found each other on the set of that film! Not only for the great cinema but because you both continue to seem more in love as the days go on!” Elle said in a cheery voice but you could feel the ice behind her words, the envy that it was you and not her. You just smiled as best as you could. “Last thing, Dieter, if I can?” Elle eagerly interjected as you were preparing to walk away. Dieter just raised his eyebrows and rocked his head forward to her.

Elle took a deep breath as Dieter got flirtatiously close, all while still holding onto your hand.

“There is buzz going around that you will be working with Javier Gutierrez on his next project, is that correct?” Dieter perked up at the question and you couldn’t help but smile, both at Dieter’s eagerness to answer a question he hadn’t gotten yet today and because of your own eagerness for that project.

“Yes!” Dieter answered enthusiastically. “I am very excited to work with Javi, he is a great guy, easy to get along with and it’s going to be a good time.”

“Some people are saying that there are already Oscar talks in regards to this film. What are your thoughts on that?” Dieter waited for the mic to be in front of his face to give an exaggerated groan.

“It’s a crock of shit—movie isn’t even written yet, how the fuck are they to know if it will be any good?” Dieter bit at the question and you tried very hard to not smile. You knew many would take Dieter’s words for saying the project could be shit, but it was because of his deep distaste for the ‘theatrics’ of the acting world that he snapped and bit back. He hated critics, reviews and all of that ‘shit’ while equally hating how fundamental it was to the success of a film.

Unfortunately, for Elle, she was one of those people who didn’t know what to do with Dieter’s response.

“Thank you both for your time!” She concluded with a small and awkward nod of her head but Dieter just dipped his body to catch her gaze before giving a soft and reassuring smile, putting on his charm for the camera and the woman.

“And thank you for yours, Elle from E! News. See you around.” He added in a way where you knew he would be asking you to bring her home sometime during the after-party of that evening's event.

--x--

“Our deal still stands, yeah?” You asked loudly as you put your last earring in, fluffing out your hair and checking every angle of your face to make sure your makeup was properly applied; there was no room to not look your best for tonight’s dinner.

“You really want to fuck him, huh?” Dieter called out from the bedroom, his voice echoing in a way that told you he was lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling, patiently (for now) waiting for you to get ready. You smiled as you did your tenth look over, slightly shifting your red silk dress so that it hugged all of your curves properly while draping where it should. The moment you started to think about how you would fuck yourself for looking this good you knew you were ready.

Dieter whined your name from the other room, deprived of your attention for more than a minute. His little protest did tempt you to make him wait a bit longer but you couldn’t do the same to your dinner date.

“Look at how I am dressed and answer that question.” You ordered Dieter as you walked into the bedroom, the dress draping at your feet, a small amount of fabric pooling on the floor but you knew his eyes were on the prominent slit that exposed your entire leg and thigh. His eyes fell on you, his intent to be dramatic and childish evident in his actions before he took you in and immediately leapt off the bed to snatch you into his arms.

“The answer is if he doesn’t fuck you, I will.” Dieter growled as he pulled you towards him, one arm wrapped around your waist, his lips to your neck and his other hand gripping onto the flesh of your bare and exposed thigh. His actions pulled a faint, shaken, gasp.

“Dieter…” you whispered as you let your head roll back, his lips moving from your neck down to the pillowy tops of your breasts, calling to him, pressed and positioned to already be slightly spilling from the top, demanding his attention.

His sloppy and wet kisses twisted your stomach and his soft, deliberate bites had you groan in boiling desire, already excited in anticipation of what tonight could bring, what you could get if you flirted well enough, but it was always the way Dieter grabbed you that made your pussy pulse uncontrollably.

Quickly you reached down to swoop the fabric of your dress as far from your body as possible before hooking your exposed leg over his hip, pulling on his hair so that his face was just below yours.

“You going to be a greedy, dirty boy and fuck me first, hmn?” You asked and Dieter immediately let out a whimper, his hungry and demanding gaze shifting into a soft, eager and submissive one. You used your leg to pull his body closer to yours and you could feel your wet pussy rest against his already rock-hard bulge. Lightly you pulled his hair a bit more while equally pressing into his cock. “You want to fuck me, don’t you? Want to rip this pretty dress off of my body, fuck me like a whore on the floor or restrained against a wall?”

You waited for him to respond as you grinded against him, yet all Dieter could do was let out a soft, satisfied, sigh as he closed his eyes. It was fucking irresistible.

“Take your fucking pants off and fuck me. Now.” You demanded of Dieter and his eyes shot open, his hands quickly moving to undo his belt buckle as he watched you with a deadly serious expression that only cracked when he harshly shoved his cock into you.

Your body lurched forward at the motion, but you knew better to recover for it was easier for Dieter to fuck you like this if he could control where and how your body swayed.

Instead, your lips found his earlobe and gave it a light nibble, coaxing from Dee an immediate groan and increase to his pace. Your hands traced over his face and neck, always moving, trying to grasp onto his skin or hooking your fingers into his beard and hair as you moaned into his ear.

“Your cock feels so good, baby.” You cooed as you swirled a nail on his cheek in a way you knew drove him wild, immediately feeling the effects of your praise. “You fuck me so good. Such a good boy, Dee. Such a…Fu-uck,” you stuttered, your head momentarily falling to his shoulder as Dieter fucked you with unbelievable ferocity, bending his body so that he could press into that place that always left you unravelled around him.

Your praise having a very immediate and physical response from Dieter.

“We do have a dinner to get to.” He teased, and despite you knowing there was no way he was going to leave here without feeling you twitch around his cock, you did not want to take any chances.

“Dee,” you growled before his thrust forced a moan from your lips, “you better fuck me until you make me come on that—” your speech was cut off with another thrust against your sweet spot, your head rocking back once again, “fucking godly cock.” You finished your sentence, your voice low and strained as your head fell as far back as it could.

Dieter’s mouth was immediately upon your throat, sloppy open-mouthed kisses mixed with grunts as he continued to rabidly fuck you like a dog in heat. Your throat closed as he brought the pleasure stirring within you to a boil, small choking gasps were the only sounds that could be let out until your body allowed you to scream in release, Dieter doing the same.

You melted around him and against him, feeling his release fill you as he twitched against your walls.

“Don’t you get any on my dress.” You growled a warning into his ear, your arms wrapped around his head as you held onto him for support. Dieter just chuckled and you smiled—he knew he would be in for some unpleasurable pain if he damaged something so beautiful of yours without your permission. “You are such a good boy, baby.” You praised him with another kiss to his temple. “Let me get cleaned up and we can get going.”

-x-

The restaurant Dieter chose for you all to meet was gorgeous, small and intimate, with only twenty tables, at most, within the establishment. The moment you walked past the entrance your eyes fell to the table in the center of the room where Javi sat, alone. His gaze perked up at the sight of you and Dieter and he immediately stood up, raising his hand as high as he could into the air and waved at you both—as if you were at risk of not seeing him.

Dieter took your hand to steady you as you descended the short set of stairs into the dining area. He always took it and never offered, a fact that would have made you smile if you weren’t already from how Javi reacted to you both. Looking down at the stairs helped hide your expression from both men and allowed you enough time to compose yourself.

Javi was ready with your chair out, helping you get seated and giving you an enthusiastic, suave, nod of his head, his smile spreading to impossible widths as he watched you before turning his attention to Dieter.

“It is so lovely for you two to join me, thank you.” He reached out and clasped Dieter's hands within his, providing a short, firm, and affectionate shake of their hands before he released them and sat back in his chair. “I hope you do not mind, I took the liberty of ordering some tapas—I was looking at the menu and getting hungry.” He explained softly, a light and shy smile given as an apology.

“Didn’t mean to be late.” Dieter responded and an immediate sign of relief showed in Javi’s expression when he realized that there was no upset with his forward action—an action that was entirely tame, domestic, by your standards, not forward in the slightest.

Cute. You thought to yourself with a sweet smile.

“Javi, this is—” Dieter began to introduce you but Javi sprang from his seat to kneel next to you, grabbing your hand in such a flurry of actions you were truly startled—even Dieter was stunned into silence and you couldn’t truly recall the last time that ever happened without you being fully naked, exposed and in an extremely creative and demeaning position.

“Dieter told me so many things about you, shown me so many photos yet you are more beautiful in person.” He greeted you earnestly before planting a soft kiss on the back of your hand. “I have to say before dinner begins, otherwise it will eat me from the inside, that I have fallen in love with the art Dieter has shown me of yours.” His confession had you snap your head to Dieter, a look of hurt and concern mixed into your soft emotions from receiving Javi’s praises.

Dieter knew how sensitive you were about your art, about it being shared with others, your fear of any chance of it being exposed and left for ridicule from the world.

“Do not blame him, princesa, I took his phone and looked myself. He only told me after how you did not wish this to be shared, and so I needed to apologize to you for I did not mean to offend such a beauty as yourself, but you must know that you have a gift that must be shared.” He rambled through his confession, still on one knee before you, your hand delicately held in both of his while his head took a dramatic dip. “It has been too long since my eyes have rested on something that evoked such passion. I needed to meet you, and I apologize for the secrecy of that agenda. Forgive me.” He begged you at the end, but his words left you utterly speechless.

Not only had he seen your art, the art you most likely had painted in your home studio, the art you had created from some of the most vulnerable places as you had worked through your own issues while Dieter started his sobriety, but was Javi confessing to orchestrating this dinner so he could meet you?

You couldn’t believe it.

Thankfully the waiters with the small appetizers arrived at the table, interrupting your ability to reply—even though you were still lacking the words. Javi moved back to his seat but his worried eyes did not leave yours. You glanced towards Dieter, who was simply acting as an amused bystander to the whole ordeal.

“I am glad my work could evoke such devotion.” You managed to murmur, looking at the table and feeling uncharacteristically bashful, as if you had a thousand cameras pointed at you, hundreds of microphones shoved in front of your face, demanding to know everything you were feeling. No man’s attention had ever stirred you like this. Dieter has done, and does, many things to you even with a single glance, tortures you, makes you crave for a single lick of his affection, but it never like this yearning—this sudden desperation and loss over something you never knew you needed, had or ever lost.

The temperament settled for a bit after that, food distracting you as the men diverted into discussing their movie and what they wanted it to be about. Two lost brothers, separated by birth in a war-torn country, reconnected as older men to rediscover themselves and what they had lost.

It sounded like a lovely story, an emotional concept and most definitely something that would carry ‘Oscar Buzz’ if done correctly—which you had no doubt these two brilliant minds would accomplish.

They continued with that conversation until dinner arrived, and Javi, once again, glanced at you with his shy smile.

“My apologies, mi amor. We did not mean to exclude you.” He apologized and proceeded to patiently wait for your response.

“Quite alright, you had to hold up the facade of why this dinner was originally requested.” You teased him with a wink, his cheeks immediately going crimson. Quickly, he glanced down at his plate and pushed his vegetables around with his fork.

“Indeed, I would not wish for someone to get the wrong idea.” Javi agreed lightly before shoving the vegetables he played with into his mouth, nervously chewing. You followed him, cutting a piece of your steak, swooping it into your mashed potatoes before placing it in your mouth. Your gaze did not leave Javi’s, you wanted to see how his expression pinched and shifted as you wrapped your tongue around your food to bring it into your mouth, a small smirk present as you chewed.

It was your smirk that seemed to make Javi realize he had been staring and he brought his attention back to the plate in front of his face.

“What would be the wrong idea, Javi?” Dieter called out to the shy man, his forearms fully laid out on the table, fork and steak knife in hand as he watched Javi curiously.

Javi’s mouth opened and then closed. He looked at you quickly and then back to Dieter. It was evident he didn’t know what to do, didn’t want to say what he had already alluded to—that he was here for you.

That he wanted you.

“Did Dieter tell you I spent a year in Spain?” You asked Javi, gently providing him with an out from the topic he wanted to avoid, a topic you would circle back to later, but for now, you needed to relax the poor man.

“No, he didn’t!” He informed, immediately falling into the trap of your question, or simply forgetting his previous worries while getting lost in your gaze and presence. Either option made you happy. “Please, tell me of it.” He asked politely yet his eyes begged you to share with him.

“Dénia es donde pasé mi tiempo.” You softly responded, telling him of the place you lived while there. “It was a lovely city that gave me a lot of healing and peace.” You added the last part in English so that Dieter did not feel completely left out of the conversation however the way Javi’s soul seemed to leap towards you when you spoke his native language could have ended you.

“Your Spanish, cariño...” Javi whispered as he shifted his body to fully face you, a slight quiver to his wide, puppy dog, eyes. “You should never have to speak another way.” Javi paused, his mouth open, little twitches giving the impression he still had something else to say, which he eventually got out. “Háblame así te lo ruego.” He whispered his plea, his spoken beg, for you to speak to him in his native tongue.

No person, no matter how strong their will was, could resist such a sweet request from an even sweeter man.

Immediately you and Javi dove into a fast paced conversation, Spanish rolling off your tongue as if it was your native language, Javi’s eyes widening as he engaged with you.

Dieter immediately started drumming his fingers against the table with impatience. He managed to hold in his words a lot longer than you thought he would, given how quickly he becomes pouty when you flirt with other men.

“I don’t fuckin’ speak that,” Dieter interjected, Javi’s eyes immediately darting to look at him as he leaned back into his chair—you hadn’t noticed how close you both had leaned into each other. With a smirk, you gracefully turned to look at Dieter.

“I would think for a piece like this, you would learn his language.” You pouted to him playfully, but something in the base of your belly screamed at how you would love to hear that beautiful language come out of that man while he had you under him—all the degrading and dirty ways Dee would speak to you. Javi enthusiastically agreed with a solid and excited ‘Yes!’, regarding Dieter learning Spanish, but neither of you heard him.

You watched as Dieter initially rejected the idea almost immediately, knowing he would have to put a substantial amount of effort into something that was for a single role. It had been a part of his re-instated values for himself when returning to acting while ensuring his sobriety. He wasn’t going to deep dive into the method, and he wasn’t going to get lost in it…he needed to always want to be grounded within himself—or within you.

But as you just watched him, line after line of what you wanted to hear Dieter say passing from one ear to another, you felt your body fill with an insatiable lust for something you could not have but desperately wanted. It was the subconscious bite of your lower lip that made Dieter shift his expression, suddenly realizing that there was a reason to learn such a thing beyond a single role, even if he didn’t know exactly what it was.

“What do I get out of it?” He asked you, his words quick, voice low to match the darkening behind his gaze and the flare of his nostrils, a corner of his mouth twitching upwards. You smiled, feeling like you had managed to lure Dieter and catch him with your request, now you just had to reel him in.

Slowly you leaned forward, lifting your body from your seat so that the tips of your noses were almost touching. While Dieter was fully focused on you, the world around you two most definitely melding away in his mind, you were very mindful of Javi’s gaze on you both and you couldn’t help but wish to catch two fish with one net.

“You show me what you do with that mouth,” you whispered, your finger raising to run over Dieter’s cracked lips as your eyes followed, before snapping your gaze back to meet his, “and I promise to show you something new I can do with mine.” You saw the relaxation within Dieter’s gaze, a momentary release from the tension you knew was building within his body, satisfied with your terms.

You knew it drove him wild when you would act forwardly in any public setting, especially one as intimate as this, with little to allow you to hide. Dieter’s gaze held a promise he would later show you how satisfied your words left him feeling.

“Wow!” Javi exhaled the word like it was his last, exasperated, breath and it reminded you and Dieter to pay attention to the other member of this dinner party. You turned to apologize, wanting to be polite yet desperate to know if you had caught two fish with your little display, and as you saw Javi watch you with childish awe and excitement, you knew it had worked.

His eyes washed over your body as his eyebrows fell into rest as he continued to soak you up, a soft and shy smile twitching across his lips before he looked at Dieter.

“I now understand, my friend, what you meant when we first met.”

All Dieter did was provide a shrug full of self-satisfied pride as you rested back into your chair, brazenly crossing your legs in a way that let both men have a peek at what lay beneath your silken dress—nothing but your beautiful, delicious, soaked and well fucked, pussy.

They both could not help but look, Dieter naturally adding flares and dramatics to his motions, while Javi briefly unabashedly stared before locking eyes with you and giving a few soft, short, and shy nods before quickly casting his gaze to the ground.

It brought a satisfied and endearing smile to your lips as you reached out a hand to rest it on top of Javi’s, giving it a small squeeze of reassurance. It felt impossible how soft his sun-kissed skin was, how warm his hands felt under yours—it all matched his aura and demeanour.

Truly, the man was more enamouring than you could have ever imagined and you could tell the gesture was something he greatly appreciated and responded to based on how lost and lonely he looked when you withdrew your hand, turning your gaze back to Dieter who seemed to be watching the same thing.

“You saying sweet things about me, love?” You ask with a false sense of surprise, Dieter softly laughing before gesturing an open hand towards Javi.

“You wanna tell her what I said?” He asked, pitching his chin to his chest to be able to look at the man above his sunglasses. That posture alone always made your nostrils flare so you could breath deep enough to stop your heart and pussy from beating too fast.

But when you saw how you saw Javi squirmed at the question? Well, that made your thighs clench and pussy unequivocally quake.

His eyes darted to you as you leaned towards him, purposefully positioning yourself so your plump breasts were pushed up and within anyone’s vision if they were to look at your face. You watched as his throat slowly clenched as he strained to swallow, the tight shirt he wore giving away to the short and shallow breaths he was allowing himself as he gained the faintest red hue to his complexion. With a final, sharp, breath, he looked back at Dieter as if to clarify if he should.

Your eyes did not leave Javi, so you had no idea what Dieter did, but you assumed it was a gesture or mouthed words, for Javi hesitantly looked back at you while bearing a grave expression as if he was about to tell you one of your loved ones had passed away.

It swirled a storm in your stomach to see innocent Javi torture himself over whatever Dieter told him about you, which would have been nowhere near the worst and most degrading things he has said about you or to you. Yet you could see it tear your sweet Javi apart from the inside, afraid to hurt or offend you while what his vision soaked in evoked an opposite desire.

You slowly reached out and placed your hand on his.

“Whisper it to me in Spanish, Javi.” You softly asked of him, your gaze not leaving his while giving him your best ‘fuck me’ eyes. You could see it twist him on the inside before giving a few short, shallow, nods of his head.

“Now I really understand what you meant.” He spoke as if out of breath, his chest rising and falling as one would from running a marathon, yet he still did not repeat the things Dieter said.

“You still haven’t told me what sweet praises Dieter said about me…” You whispered this time as you dragged your index finger over his hand and up his arm, lightly pressing your pointed nail into his skin. Suddenly Javi grabbed your hands and cradled them within his, pulling you from how you had yourself positioned so that he could look at you directly with nothing but an earnest and soft expression of admiration.

“Encantadora...” He whispered to you, but you knew that wasn’t what Dieter had told him because, among the many things he called you that you loved to hear, he would have never described you as ‘enchanting’. “He said you are like a pheromone, irresistibly beautiful and bright, a star from the sky among the mortal man.” Javi continued to whisper to you words you knew definitely would not have come from Dieter’s lips, and the realization of that evaporated your bravado as you suddenly became soft and entranced under Javi’s gaze and praises.

Briefly, the sound of Dieter’s sarcastic, amused, sharp laugh pulled you from Javi, but he squeezed your hands while his face tracked yours as it moved, his eyes always pinned to yours, a soft smile on his delicious lips.

“I did not think a person like that could exist but I finally understand why he made such claims...” Javi admitted, raising a hand briefly to kindly and gratefully gesture towards Dieter before turning his attention back to you. “Look at you, hermosa, in all of your glory.” He whispered his praise as he continued to acknowledge you with unimaginable awe and disbelief.

The words and expressions were too much, causing you to widely smile and uncharacteristically pull your hand away to cover your face, overwhelmed and extremely bashful from all of his compliments. Silence lingered for a moment, Javi’s hands still gripping your single one, his thumbs delicately drawing circles over the back of it which only caused you to blush harder.

“No…shit!” Dieter exclaimed with a small slam of the table, quickly realising his antics and apologizing to the others around them. He leaned into the table, you barely seeing him as you continued to cover your face and look down, trying to search and sense what was going on in your body and mind. “This needs to fucking happen.” He demanded, stabbing his finger into the table with an intense amount of purpose. You felt Javi release your hand and sit back, worried he may have done something wrong while you felt your own sadness at the loss of his touch.

A quick glance at Javi told you he was confused by Dieter’s demands, but you knew what Dieter was referring to.

“I do not understand, Mr. Bravo, we already agreed to the movie?” Javi asked as his face pinched into an adorable expression of innocent confusion, acting as if he had completely forgotten where you and he had been just a moment ago, what sparks were erupting between you two, the carnal desires stoked from your locked eyes.

Dieter just grunted, evidently annoyed with the sweet man’s innocent mind.

“Can’t believe you guys are—Javi, she wants you to fuck her.” He bluntly stated and you watched as Javi’s eyes widened beyond their natural stretch at Dieter at his claim before looking toward you. “Love, Javi obviously wants to fuck you…who wouldn’t?” He added the question with a hand lovingly and hungrily running down your back. “And now, I need to fuckin’ see it happen. So…cheque? Cheque, please!”

Dieter looked around the room to see many eyes were now on the three of you after his loud proclamations on how Javi and you wanted to have sex and how Dieter greatly wanted to watch.

“Yeah, yeah.” He groaned while waving a dismissing hand towards a table of four seniors who looked at him with complete disgust. “We’re almost out of here, we just need our CHEQUE! PLEASE!” Dieter bellowed and you had to hide your grin, knowing his fury simply came from his pent-up sexual excitement and tension.

To see you openly flirt with another man, to see you position yourself for him, for that man to show interest in you…that was all a part of the normal fun and games. What seemed to have sent Dieter over the edge into this lustful rage was seeing how Javi’s words affected you in a way his never had.

Thankfully you knew it wasn’t jealousy that fueled his immediate requirement to depart, to see you fucked by his Spanish doppelganger, but was due to the thrill, the adrenaline, along with a growing, desperate, need to see it happen.

He was about to open his mouth to yell again when a waiter ran to his side with the bill. Dieter put his card down on the tray, immediately groaning when the waiter fumbled at the machine.

“Charge whatever, I don’t care. Comp everyone who I fucking offended, how’s that?” He stressed his last word as if taunting the four seniors, ensuring to look directly at the women who still regarded him with sheer horror while the men smiled and waved their thanks—much to their wives dismay. “Here’s my signature…” Dieter grabbed the pen from the waiter’s jacket as Javi got up to pull out your seat and gracefully help you up. “Charge whatever the fuck you want, tip generously, whatever, but don’t fuck me over.”

He glanced at the shaking waiter, who looked no more than twenty, over his sunglasses before squinting at his name tag.

“Kevin, is it?” He paused long enough for the kid to nod. “Don’t fuck me, Kevin!” Dieter stressed before walking away. “I’ll be back tomorrow for my card and receipt.”

And with that, the three of you left to return to the apartment you and Dieter shared. Despite the short walk it was, Dieter had a car called for you all, only so he could sit and watch as Javi couldn’t keep his hands and lips off of you, and Dieter couldn’t keep his hands off his hard and exposed cock.

--x--

Dieter opened the door for you and Javi, a man that you now only saw as the human embodiment of an excited puppy with a cat’s luck. On point, Javi burst past you as you entered, walking ahead of you to slowly twirl as he basked in the apparent glory and wonder of your home.

“It is a beautiful home you both have here.” He told you both earnestly, Dieter just shrugged as he locked the door and tossed his keys into the small glass bowl near the door. However you were not so aloof about the compliment, but perhaps that was due to Javi saying those words while looking at you as if he had suffered a lifetime of longing for this moment, for you.

Whatever peculiar charm this man held was potent, powerful, and had secured an iron grip on your being. For a brief moment, you felt fear run down your spine, chills cascading ripples of goosebumps over your exposed skin. Never had you been so enchanted, so held, except for Dieter…your sweet, lovely, Dee.

The thought had you glance to him, a hand immediately reached out and latching onto his arm as Javi’s back was turned to you, his body wandering to wherever his eyes took him. Dieter stopped what he was doing to look at you, and you could see his brows twist in concern to give away how his eyes watched you behind those sunglasses.

He opened his mouth to say something to you but Javi cut him off.

“I wish to ask you more about this, my friends, but may you direct me to your—”

“There is a bathroom that way, you’ll find the door.” Dieter pointed for Javi, who hurried off into that direction, the opening and closing of doors echoing to you and Dieter as he returned to look at you. “Tell me...” He asked of you softly, his hand molding to your jaw and cheek, his thumb softly rubbing your skin until your pinched expression softened and you eyes closed.

Soft were Dieter’s lips when they came to yours, a motion of support for you, and when he withdrew from you, he left a smile on your lips.

“Not going to even slip me tongue?” You asked him, feigning concern and placing the back of your hand to his forehead. Dieter just chuckled as he dropped his hand from your face to wrap around your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“You seemed upset.” He confessed with a small smile of his own. You hummed at him, playful yet feeling there was another reason he was being so sweet to you right now. Slowly you reached up and grabbed his sunglasses, enforcing your rule that within the walls of your home (balcony excluded) no sunglasses—there were also sex exclusions but those were given on a per-request basis.

“Being sweet on me, hmn?” You teased him, your lips parting as your smile grew until you gave a small, husky, chuckle of your own. Dieter scratched his beard while stretching and chewing his lower lip at your playfulness.

“Adorable.” He grumbled before untangling his fingers from his facial hair to hook behind your head, bringing you to him. This time his tongue did not ask for entry, did not coax, or negotiate, but demanded it. His hand continued to press you into him, his grip on your body tightening.

Dieter moaned into you as he became greedy with what he held, and it seemed that only when you both could no longer breathe did he release his lips from you. His firm and deliberate grip remained, allowing you to lay in his arms as you panted and gasped for breath.

“Scared you won’t be okay with just once with him, huh?” Dieter asked you, the breath you had managed to regain immediately snatched from your body.

He just smiled while slowly swiping his thumb over your lips as you continued to take short, shallow, panting breaths.

“I do not care if you have return visitors to our bed that are there for you, love. Just so long as you are okay with it.” You smiled at his whispered words, joy soothing the chilled spots on your body, releasing you from that fear as you watched Dieter look at you with nothing but absolute love and devotion.

“‘Cause we know you are down for anything.” You slyly joked, trying to control the excitement of what was ahead of you, with Javi and Dieter, from returning to you like a burst dam.

“Right,” Dieter confirmed with a soft chuckle, giving you another soft kiss, this time ensuring to lick into your mouth once before pulling away, his mischievous smirk present as he watched you. “He’ll be good for you, don’t fight your feelings about it,” Dieter added as he glanced over to the sound of an opening door. “I know he isn’t me, I ain’t threatened. Besides, he’ll be able to give you, in there, what I don’t want to.” He whispered into your ear and you felt your eyes flutter closed at the heat of his breath, the press of his nose, the brush of his lips but the lick of his tongue as he pulled away was unfair, torterous, yet so on point for Dieter.

Your stomach clenched as that lick had your mind rush to thoughts of where else you wanted that tongue, easily imagining what that would feel like, but then quickly wondering what it would feel like to have Javi’s tongue on you. How would that feel? What would he do? Or enjoy doing?

The thought that hit you like a derailed train, however, was wondering how marvellous his cock would be, how it would feel in your hands, in your mouth, on your tongue, in your—

Javi walked around the corner, pulling you from your thoughts immediately as he was back in your sight. His eyes met yours and he gave you his soft smile. You never stood a chance, the gesture and gaze causing the excitement you had managed to hold at bay earlier burst within you with torrential force.

You needed this man now.

“The interior is all her.” Dieter spoke out loud, walking towards Javi having already changed into slippers and one of his many housecoats that lived and hung by the front door. He flashed an impish smile at you, causing yours to faltered for a moment.

Dieter also seemed to have a sense of how badly you wanted to fuck Javi, especially in this particular moment, and he was showing that he intended to toy with you.

“Don’t lie,” you corrected with a playful raise of your eyebrow, following Dieter and walking towards Javi, “you were very particular about our aesthetic and you vetoed anything you didn’t like.”

“Yeah, but you picked it all.” Dieter retorted, holding his arms up in surrender like there was no further discussion to be had and he was victorious.

“He does have a point, querida,” Javi informed you with a heavy amount of regret. He walked towards you to rub your arms sympathetically, wishing to soothe the wounds of you losing a point you never tried to win. However, you weren’t about to tell this man to not hold you so delicately.

Glancing at Dieter, you smirked, and immediately thought to take advantage of your position to ensure he couldn’t interfere with what you wanted.

You leaned yourself into Javi’s embrace, twisting so your chest was pressed against his, his hands which held you now resting in the small curve at the base of your back.

Your arms snaked around his body and you could hear his breath quicken at your movements—it was intoxicating.

“I have to admit, Javi,” you whispered into his ear, “I wish to go to a more private space.” You made sure to breathe slowly, to drag your lips against his skin before they puckered into a soft kiss. “¿Te unes a mí, Javi?” You felt your question cause him to shiver, his head slightly rolling away from where your lips had been before he stepped away from you.

“Yes!” He earnestly answered your question with wide eyes and his arms outstretched, confirming he would follow you where you wish to take him. But there was a hesitance behind his gaze that you saw, so you waited. “First I would…well, uh—it is a bit embarrassing.” Javi squirmed as he seemed to struggle to ask for what he wanted in this moment, what he wanted from you and Dieter, and it drew you in immediately.

Whatever made his man squirm at the thought of, you wished to give him. Truly, you wished to give every part of yourself to him.

Something that had previously only ever been given to Dieter.

“¿Qué pasa, Javi?” You whispered again as you reached out a hand to grasp onto his tightening arms that were pinched across his chest. “You can ask anything of us, we will not judge. Dee is down for most things.” You added with a smile, turning back to look at the man you so dearly love to see him equally smirk back at you.

“She doesn’t lie,” Dieter added, speaking directly to Javi. “About myself or that there is nothing you cannot ask in this place.” Javi gave a large nod, rocking his torso along with his head, as he appeared to be psyching himself up for what he was about to say.

You took the moment of his body returning from it’s physical nod to nestle your way into his arms again, your lips at the back of jaw, below his ear.

“I will give you every part of me, Papi.” You whispered your promise, laying yourself bare at Javi’s feet to feast on. To have, to take, to claim. The roar of Javi taking a steep inhale deafened you.

“Eres perfecto…” Javi whispered, his lips soft as they pressed against your neck. “Una diosa.” He hissed the praise, as if pained by your godly presence before he brought his face before yours, his eyes searching your features. “Can you please show me all of your art?” He rushed through the words as he darted between looking at you and Dieter.

You broke away from Javi in shock at his question before turning to look at Dieter. The two of you shared a look of confusion before you burst out in laughter.

Here you thought this man was about to ask you both to fulfill some depraved fantasy, yet, once again, you had underestimated how innocent and kind he was.

“Everything I have seen has been so beautiful and I just wanted to be able to look upon it—” he started to ramble nervously, but you just returned to his arms, lacing your fingers with his.

“Come.” You gently said as you pulled on his arm, walking through your living room.

Although you and Dieter lived in an apartment, it was really a penthouse. The entire top level, numerous rooms, too many bathrooms and space for a large studio space to share.

You pulled harder on Javi’s arm, dragging him forward so he would walk by your side. Seeing him stumble forward made you want to just push him up against the wall, but you were able to resist…almost. You placed your lips right next to his ear, his loose, light brown, curls resting against your face.

“Will you help me remove my dress before we enter?” You asked, lightly kissing his adorable earlobe, licking it into your mouth to briefly suckle and moan before removing yourself from him. Javi watched you, entranced and uncaring to anything else around him, freely allowing you to guide him through your home. “I can’t risk getting paint on it and Dee pulled the lace really tight so I can’t do it myself…” You pouted your practical facts and Javi’s pure, blissfully large smile spread across his lips.

“You are right! We cannot ruin something so beautiful.” He stressed as if he would start a war over the matter, his smile fully infecting you as you forced yourself to look away to try to remain composed and not melt into a giggling, blushing, puddle.

Slowly you stopped in front of the door, turning yourself so your back was to Javi. Gently you bunched and pulled your hair over one shoulder while peeking at him over the other. That delicious smile of his returned to his lips before he brought them to your exposed skin, lightly planting the softest, warmest, kisses along your back and shoulders while you felt his fingers slowly unlace your dress.

You looked over at Dieter, who rested against the closest wall, with the faintest smirk, his fingers attached to his mouth as he nervously bit with growing tension and excitement behind his gaze. Slowly you raised your hand to press your sleeve playfully and dramatically off your shoulder, giving him a small pout. Dieter chuckled with amusement and approval.

“Have I lost your attention, mi amor?” Javi whispered into your skin, his soft beard tickling you as you felt yourself blush and look away from Dieter, who only raised his eyebrows playfully at you as you did.

“I’m sorry.” You found yourself bashfully apologizing as your arms wrapped around your front, Javi pulling the lace through the last loop and letting it fall to the floor. Slowly you turned to look at Javi, your hands clinging to your chest and you felt yourself tremor under his soft and loving gaze.

Without missing a moment, Javi brought himself closer to you, his hands cradling your face, his thumbs barely present on your skin, but you felt the batting of his heavy breath against your lips.

“Just tell me how to keep it.” He whispered his plea before kissing you, a gentle moan escaping the tame man as his thumbs pressed against your cheeks.

You wanted Javi to know he had your attention, that it was his to have and command in this moment. Slowly you raised one arm and then another until you felt the weight of the fabric pull it to the floor. You snaked your arms through his, forcing his embrace to fall and wrap around your naked and exposed frame.

Heat coursed through your veins as you felt Javi grip at your flesh once he took hold of your body, ensuring that every part of him that could hold you, did. A desperate moan escaped you as you forced your kiss deeper, pulling his neck and head closer to you, grappling at his body.

With surprising strength, Javi tightened his grip around you, pinning you to him, so tightly it was even a bit hard to breathe—but it wasn’t something you minded. If anything, it aroused you more to see Javi act this way than if Dieter were you pin you like this. It was expected from him, but you have obviously driven Javi to this intensity?

God, take you now for you will never feel more powerful or closer to holy divinity, than how it felt to have two delicious men devoted to your pleasure, devoted to your well being, your happiness...while both capable of being switches.

As quickly as his intensity came, it left as you felt Javi immediately back away from his iron grip, his arms loosening, your lungs finally able to fully expand again. You you let your lips travel from his down to his chin and then neck. You could hear him panting, light small grunts accompanying each one.

It was a sound you were beginning to crave.

“You still wish to see the art, my sweet Javi?” You asked him as you nipped at his chin affectionately.

“I’d say he has a pretty fine piece right there.” Dieter finally spoke, breaking free from being the fly on the wall, to walk towards the door that led to the studio.

He made a deliberate and exaggerated point to step over the fabric pooled on the floor that was your dress. Dieter grabbed the handle and swung himself so his back was pressed to the door, dramatically looking to Javi.

“Know that we don’t share this space with anyone.” He advised Javi with an enticing seriousness before unlatching the door and allowing the weight of his body to swing himself and the door into the room. Javi, still holding you, kissed the spot where your jaw met your ear.

“Bella,” he whispered before releasing you from his hold to walk into the studio, yet he made sure one of his fingers remained hooked onto yours. You felt your whole body blush as you smiled and followed, your hand raising to cover your face as you passed Dieter.

“I love seeing you so bashful.” He commented with a smile. “Fuck,” he pronounced as he slapped your ass, “you’re so perfect.” He added in a sweet rumble as he followed you, his words only reminding you of when Javi told you the same thing in Spanish.

You wanted to look back to see Dee’s perverted smile but you remembered Javi’s whisper, his plea for your attention, so you pulled your hands together and laced your fingers with his.

Javi glanced back to look at where your bodies connected, his eyes naturally following your arm to the rest of your body before falling to your eyes. You watched as his smile grew as he took you in but it was the strongest when he locked with your eyes; it made you quiver.

For a moment they held you, suspended with anticipation, before he swung his body in a circle, once again, to look around at the numerous canvases that were hung on the walls, propped against furniture or still on their easel.

All mediums of paint were scattered around, some in organized areas while others would take you an hour or more to get the whole set that you bought them as. Numerous white tarps stretched the floor, splattered with a multitude of colours from years of use—from times before you and Dieter lived together.

“It is beautiful.” Javi gasped. “I am so honoured that you show me this.” He told you with his characteristic grave seriousness before he gave you a short and firm kiss. “And you, as well,” Javi said, walking towards Dieter with his arms stretched out. Dieter leaned in for a hug, expecting a warm embrace, so he was shocked when Javi gave Dieter the same, short and firm, kiss as he had given you.

But the one he gave Dieter lingered for a bit longer.

Long enough, at least, that you saw Dieter’s body relax at Javi’s touch and affection.

“You have very soft lips.” Javi complimented Dieter who just gave the man a perplexed look before quickly nodding, the lack of verbal reaction worrying Javi. “I apologize if I misunderstood—”

“No,” Dieter stopped him, putting up a hand, “definitely my thing I just…misunderstood you, is all,” Dieter said with a smirk before his eyes flicked to you to see you blushing as your two boys realized what they could have with each other.

Oh, the things I will watch them do. The thought caused waves to roll and twist your stomach with craving and desire, and you knew it showed by how Dieter’s expression shifted and how wide Javi’s eyes went in surprise.

Your eyes connected with Javi’s and immediately you slunk towards him.

“Tell me which one you like the most,” you asked of him as you moulded yourself to his side, “and if it’s mine, you get a prize.” Javi’s head jerked to look at you, his eyes dancing with excitement and anticipation, his lips twitching as if they had a thousand words they wished to speak in this single moment.

“What if it’s mine.” Dieter interrupted, both you and Javi glancing towards him. Your eyes remained on Dieter yet you saw Javi look back at you before his lips fell to your jaw.

“Yes, mi amor, what if it is Dieter’s work?” Javi whispered the question and you couldn’t help but moan and melt in his arms—fuck, he better pick yours.

“Then Dieter gives you a prize.” You said, knowing you needed to play along, play fair, now that Javi was also being shared. Dieter smiled with approval, and Javi kissed his into your skin before breaking from you to walk around the studio to look at the multitudes of work.

Dieter, not wishing to waste a moment, snaked his body around you, pinning your back to his chest as he hugged you from behind.

“I love you so much, baby,” Dieter whispered as one arm started to drift down your stomach. “I bet you’ve been thinking of what it’s going to be like to have Javi fuck you, haven’t you?” He asked the question but you knew better than to answer.

Dieter nipped his pleasure at your silence against your neck as his hand reached down to grip your thigh, your gaze following a gently wandering Javi who was oblivious to what was happening behind him.

“I’ll know you’ve been a dirty little girl if you’re wet for me, hmn?” Dieter whispered, his other hand slipping upwards to your collarbone as you felt two of his fingers plunge between your folds to swim in the undeniable evidence of your arousal that had stayed locked and hidden within.

Hearing the satisfied chuckle against your skin made you shake.

Little would make you happier than to have Dieter bend you over and stick his dick in you right now. The worst part about that craving was that even though he wasn’t going to do it, you knew Dee was thinking about it.

“Oh, baby, you are so good to me.” Dieter growled into your ear as you heard Javi softly speaking to himself, debating on which piece spoke to him more. “I’m gonna make sure your cunt gets so fucking stretched today. You want that, hmn?” He asked you, his hand rising from your collarbone to rest on your throat, the pressure immediately being applied.

This was when Dieter wanted you to speak—when it was hard to.

“Mhmn.” You tried to confirm but from the light chuckle and sweet kiss from Dieter, you knew it wasn’t enough.

“Use your words, my love.” He told you, his grip tightening.

“Both. I want both in me.” You strained to say, Dieter’s grip releasing and immediately replaced with a kiss and lick of his tongue, a sign you pleased him.

“I’ll give my baby what she wants,” he promised you as his drenched fingers parted from you and were raised to your face, “so long as she’s good.” He taunted, and you immediately knew what he wanted to you do.

What you needed to do to be good.

Opening your mouth wide, you stuck out your tongue as far as you could so that Dieter could place his cum covered fingers into your mouth, sliding them down your tongue until you felt them enter your throat.

“Good.” He whispered, a word you recognized as a command so you closed your mouth, your tongue swirling around and parting his fingers, ensuring to fully clean them. As Dieter removed his fingers from your lips, reaching down for another round, Javi came around a corner from a part of your studio you did not expect him to have wandered.

“I have decided.” He informed you both with a bright smile, his eyes taking in the position Dieter had you in with a ferocity washing over his expression. Your curiosity of what he would have done at that moment if Dieter didn’t immediately release you would plague you for a few days to come, you were sure, but it wasn’t the time to focus on such things.

You would suffer those delicious, depraved, thoughts later.

“Show us, love.” You told Javi, walking towards him and reaching out a hand for him to grab. Javi stepped forward so that he could connect with you sooner, hurriedly rushing you to the piece he had chosen as his favourite. The adorable nature in which he rushed took you from the pressing hope and need that the art he chose was yours and the dread of having to watch Dieter pleasure Javi instead of you—not because you didn’t want to see that, but only because you wanted to do it first.

You were never as good with sharing as Dieter was.

When Javi stopped in front of the art piece he had chosen, you looked up with mixed emotions. It was a painting that, although yours (yippee!), carried some of the heaviest emotions with it from any piece you had ever painted.

“This!” Javi said as his arms shot out in front of him, having let go of your hand to do so. You blinked, trying to compose yourself, to not get lost in the image and get pulled away from the moment. Looking at Javi helped.

“Mine.” You said with a smile before leaning against him. “Tell me what you love about it, Javi.” You whispered his name as you pressed your face against the side of his, one arm draped across his shoulders for support, while the other hastefully reached down to start undoing his belt. You needed to get lost in him before you got lost in the fears of your future or the daunting, suffocating, shadow of your past.

The very thing that piece depicted, the emotions trying to rip open the chasm deep within your soul as you glanced towards the wide, chaotic, strokes of black and blue oil paint against the bright background.

No. Not now, not right now. You willed yourself back to the moment, back to Javi, and ensuring to take extra measures so you couldn’t see anything about the piece.

“Well it, uh,” Javi began but quickly became distracted by what was happening below him, his eyes immediately falling to your hand. “I can help—” Javi offered as his hands reached for the belt, but you moved to bat it away, turning your back to the canvas and dropping to your knees as you pulled his belt from the last loop in his pants.

“I think I asked you a question.” You informed him as you gazed up at the beautiful and soft man. “Concentrate.” You sweetly teased him before you tore at his pants, harshly pulling the fabric over the button and pulling his zipper down with lightning speed. It was a surprise that with the strength and desperation that you pulled down his pants, his boxers did not come with.

“Well, it is emotional and vulnerable.” He said, looking at the art you had made shortly after your first time in rehab. It was of a small dark ghostly figure, childlike, with a large and bright shadow looming behind it. To you, it symbolized how your past self was terrifying to live up to, that when you fell so far it felt, and still does most of the time, that you would never rise to those heights again. Never regain that level of talent and confidence.

Part of you wished to listen to his praise, while the other part wanted to block it out, to not have such sweet and tender words associated with everything that wasn’t that. Thankfully you had something to distract yourself from it all, something that was begging you to let it free.

“It’s, uhm,” Javi became distracted again as you hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers and pulled them down, hungrily watching as his sizable, thick, cock sprung out and said ‘hello’ to you. Releasing the fabric in your hands, leaving the rest to gravity, you pressed your knees into the ground to twist your body and head so you could immediately take his soft, sweet, balls into your mouth.

With his hard, twitching, cock resting against your face, forcing one eye closed, you looked up at Javi, desperate to see how you were making him feel and immediately moaning at the sight. Slowly you dragged your tongue along the length of his cock until you suspended it with the tip of your tongue against his tip.

“Dios,” he groaned at your touch, “I have faced death, and lived, yet this makes me more nervous.” Javi choked on his words as you slipped your lips over the head of his cock, your eyes still locked to his as you moaned once more at seeing the small twitches in his expression, the slight sway to his stance. “Dieter,” he called out to the wallflower, his arm outreached, “I wish for you to join us.” He invited him and you couldn’t help but look to see what caused Dieter to hesitate.

Unlatching your lips from Javi you ensured to still have your tongue pressed against his cock, mouth open, before glancing to Dieter. You wanted him to see you in one of his favourite positions, but he wasn’t looking at you. His eyes were glued to Javi.

You had never seen Dieter pause before, or hesitate, even if he only anticipated watching for the evening.

Perhaps he too was feeling the same effect Javi had on you. The same thing you were feeling earlier when you both had entered the apartment.

“Dee, baby, come.” You beckoned to him, your sultry voice shifting to one full of love and comfort for your man, while a small part of you wanted to hold back until you were certain Dieter was okay with the situation. That caught his attention and he gave you the softest smile before walking towards you both, a short, emphasized wink, given your way.

He was okay, and the realization gave you a sense of relief and joy as you plunged yourself back onto Javi who lurched forward at your touch, his hand jerking to your head, almost gripping your hair, before it relaxed and softened.

You couldn’t help but smile and moan at the realization Javi truly had another side to him, a side other than sickly sweet devotion. Yet knowing that you could coax that out of him, and have continued to do so tonight, had your free hand drape down your body to reach between your spread legs.

You wished to look up but you lost yourself in the feeling of Javi’s cock in your mouth, the stretch it gave to your lips, the pressure on your teeth as you forced your way down onto him until you felt him in your throat, until you couldn’t move any further. Slowly, with great effort, you pressed your tongue against him, sliding it out of your mouth in an attempt to lick the balls you had held until you gagged. Immediately you released yourself from Javi, gleaming at the sweet moan that escaped him, cum and spit connecting you two long after your lips had left him.

You watched Javi, desperately wanting to see his approval, to hear his praise of how you made him feel, what thoughts you evoked from your actions, but your attention was pulled away as you felt Dieter’s dominating grip on your arm.

“That’s for us to do, kitten.” He told you, moving the hand that you were using to touch yourself away from your body. “I got something else for you to play with.” He continued, a light growl behind his words as you heard him unzip his pants.

You wasted no time releasing Dieter's cock from its cage, smiling and letting out a happy gasp as you looked up at the two men towering over you, hard cocks pearling with anticipation of your touch, of your lips and mouth to be around them.

Biting your lower lip and glancing between them, you gripped each cock in one hand and rubbed their tips together—both men immediately closing their eyes, each of them letting out a soft moan or acknowledgement of pleasure.

You brought your tongue to them, moving against both of them as you continued to press them against each other. A wet smacking sound mixed with muffled groans brought your attention back to looking above you, only for your eyes to feast on Javi and Dieter locked in a deep, messy, kiss, their hands frantically grabbing at the other’s body.

The imagery was more than you expected or could handle. Immediately you took Dieter into your mouth, seamlessly taking his length as your hand moved over Javi’s, purposefully twisting, squeezing, and coaxing in ways you knew would make him feel good.

Yet from the way Javi broke from Dieter’s lips to moan and gasp at your efforts let you know it felt more than just good.

Then you swapped, your lips and tongue soothing the skin you had twisted and tortured as you gently moved Javi’s hard cock in and out of your mouth, your hand sliding over Dieter’s. You knew to hold harder with his, to drag your nails along his skin, to pinch and twist his balls as you handled him.

“Fuck.” Dieter hissed as you watched his stomach clench, his eyes immediately looking down at you only to hiss again as he saw you watching him, your eyes wide and soft as he liked you to look when you had a cock in your mouth—his or someone else’s. There was a glint in his gaze, a hungry, dominating, command, that had you remove yourself from Javi and return to Dee; your eyes never leaving his, your gaze never shifting.

Even as his hand clasped to the back of your head and forced his cock as far down your throat as physically possible, holding it there. You could feel your eyes water as they stung, knowing Dieter wouldn’t want you to blink, that to be good your eyes had to remain open until he looked away.

You were seconds from breaking before Dieter gasped and released you, your head jerking backwards as you gasped for air and coughed as some of his cum entered your airway. Javi bent to you, cradling you in his arms as you recovered, a hand grazing over your hair as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear in Spanish, complimenting you for how well you handled them both, how he wished to reward you for all you endure with Dieter, to kiss those wounds better.

Javi whispered this, all while Dieter was muttering and hissing to himself as you knew he was fighting the urge to cum, to give himself the release his muscles and body were screaming for. His few, short, furious glances towards you only confirmed that.

With Javi’s last promise to kiss your wounds better, and once your breath had returned to normal, he brought his lips to yours, his tongue immediately entering you. To know he did not hesitate to kiss you this way, knowing he was tasting Dieter just as much as he was you, set a fire to your stomach and you lurched your body forward, pressing yourself to Javi with desperation.

You went to reach to grasp him again, but Javi softly stopped you, shushing you gently before giving you a light kiss.

“It is your turn,” Javi whispered against your lips before he kissed you again, his arms wrapping around your face to cradle you, once more, like you were a delicate flower.

“Indeed.” Dieter hastefully agreed and you felt your body grabbed and pulled until you were slung over Dieter’s shoulder. You knew where he was bringing you, and you also noticed that he purposefully carried you in a way that your eyes did not fall on ‘Javi’s Piece’, as you would come to call it.

Javi did not need instructions to know to follow you, and as you watched him excitedly, playfully, chase after you, it did not feel like it took long for you to get to your destination and be thrown onto the bed by Dieter.

Often Dieter had painted you on this bed, sometimes by yourself, sometimes innocently sleeping and the others with one…or more, individuals. Dieter always painting and sketching; never partaking.

Today would not one of those days.

You smiled as you watched Dieter, now fully naked, crawl onto the bed and then over you, sitting on your lower abdomen, his hard, throbbing cock resting against your soft skin before his large hands latched onto your breasts.

“God, I fucking love your tits.” Dieter mused and praised you, immediately taking your smile away with a firm pinch of your nipple, the pain causing your legs to rub together, your slick dripping onto the sheets as it was squeezed from between your legs.

“They are truly beautiful.” Javi agreed from the side of the bed, your gaze immediately falling to him, watching him stand by and slowly stroke his cock while he watched you and how your body twisted to show your arousal. His buttoned shirt was fully open, revealing his soft and fuzzy tummy that only invoked a desire to bite and lick it.

You felt yourself pout at how distant he was, naturally reaching out an arm, beckoning him as you felt Dieter start to lovingly massage your body, his lips nestling around the nipple he had pinched, his warm tongue and soft lips kissing and licking to soothe the tortured skin.

You were able to wrap a hand around Javi’s thigh, while Dieter sat back up, grabbing at your body with a newly vigoured roughness—you knew it taunted him when he didn’t have your attention, and you loved how he demanded it back. You looked up and watched Javi passionately stroke his cock while watching you softly, a sense of pride swelling in his chest as you gazed at him affectionately, Dieter’s twisted expression in your peripheral.

Your body jolted as you hissed at the unprompted sting when Dieter slapped your nipples harshly, your eyes darting to him, your eyebrows pinched from pain, your thighs clamping together and as you watched Dieter slowly smile with a dominating pleasure that you answered his demand for attention. You felt yourself soak the bedding beneath you. Sensing you shake under him, Dieter reached down to grip your chin, but Javi’s hands got in the way.

“Dieter, Dieter…you cannot treat such a gentle and precious woman in such ways.” Javi scolded him as he gently pushed Dieter off of you, the weight off of your stomach allowing you to finally take a full breath. “You must make love to her.” You felt Javi whisper into your ear as he crawled onto the bed, gently placing his knee in the crevasse between your thighs, asking for permission to enter. Slowly you spread your legs, feeling Javi’s skin slide along your soaked body, your gleaming arousal present for all to finally feel and see.

You felt Dieter, unable to help himself, reach down to grip your glazed thigh, deliberately dampening his fingers as you knew he would want to taste you. You wanted to look, to watch him place his fingers in his mouth, allowing you to imagine his masterful tongue swirling around them, wishing it was against your body instead, yet Javi cupped the side of your cheek to pull your gaze to him, his soft eyes dancing over your soft features.

You were instantly reminded of the moment before entering the studio when Javi wished for your attention and to keep it. You maneuvered your arm so that you could rest your hand against Javi’s cheek, your fingers lightly blocking Dieter’s frame from your peripheral and you smiled at Javi.

You were his to have, and you needed him to know that. Even if your eyes wandered.

“How is it that such a delicate and rare flower, such as yourself, can exist in this maddening world?” He whispered earnestly to you, begging for you to answer his question full of praise, before his lips found yours, his knee and thigh claiming the space between your legs, preventing anything else other than him from being against your wet, pulsing, heat.

Effortlessly his tongue slipped against yours as you felt his hand leave your cheek to caress the rest of your body. His earnest desire building for you only showed in the fierceness with which his lips moved against yours, the deliberate moans that seemed to be his effort to stop himself from taking more, his knee rocking up to press against your swollen clit, coaxing continuous soft moans and gasps from your lips.

“See…I think, she likes both.” You heard Dieter comment, his familiar grip returning to your nipple, twisting, and pinching as you clamped your thighs against Javi’s leg, shaking as you groaned in both pain and pleasure, craving for one of them to touch you, to stick anything into you, but you couldn’t beg…you were theirs to share; to have. “Don’t you, my love?” Dieter continued to ask and you knew you had to respond. “You love it when I’m rough? When Javi soothes that pain? You love it to have two men fucking you—don’t you?”

“Yes.” You told him as you watched Dieter crawl onto the bed, your head centred between his spread knees, his cock inches away from greeting your lips. Javi slowly moved towards the bottom of the bed, his hands and lips never leaving your skin.

“Yes, what?” Dieter stressed, his serious expression demanding your gaze as his thick fingers gently laced through your hair before jerking into a firm grip.

Your whole body tensed as you felt Javi’s tongue feel cool against your clit, the buildup and tension that had been growing since dinner, for days leading up to tonight, bursting within you. You needed it, all of it. You needed to be mindless, to feel nothing but to bask in a sea of the pleasures brought by their touch.

You raised your legs and wrapped them around Javi, your hand reaching down to lace into his soft, luscious, golden brown curls, your eyes never leaving Dieter.

“I love it when two people fuck me.” You groaned as Javi’s hand gripped onto your hips, pulling your body closer as his lips and teeth clamped and pressed against your body, purpose behind every stroke of his tongue. You whimpered as your chest shook, craving for one of them—both of them—to be inside of you. “I’ve been good.” You begged before you let out a small yelp that quickly transitioned to a deep groan as Javi moved a finger into you.

Your head went to rock back, but with Dieter not letting go of your hair, it only allowed your head to hang within his grip; a fact Dieter did not hesitate to take advantage of.

As you inhaled to recover from another pinched groan brought by Javi’s pleasurable and attentive efforts, Dieter pulled your face to him, using his free hand to guide his cock into your mouth before gripping your chin. He did not allow you any control over how you moved your head as he glided you along his cock as he pleased, you tried to prop yourself onto your side but with your legs twisted around Javi, it was not an easy maneuver.

Your eyes managed to strain towards Javi, to see him adorably peak up at you, his eyes dancing at what he saw before he slowly rocked and positioned himself so you could comfortably move onto your side, his lips and tongue not leaving you, and his fingers immediately re-entering you with reinforced numbers once you both settled.

Dieter, on the other hand, paid no attention or mind to any discomfort you may have felt as he continued to use you for his pleasure, which only made you happier. You kept watching Dieter until your eyes fluttered closed, your muscles rippling as you felt pressure rise where Javi held you. You wanted to moan, your body begged to be able to scream out the rupturing pleasures that were becoming untethered within you, but Dieter’s cock prevented and muffled those efforts.

Your grip on Javi released itself, your body losing the strength for it as your eyes rolled back in your head, Javi unrelenting in his growing earnestness to pleasure you, to lick your wounds, to erase the pain your body held. Something you thought possible if he never stopped.

A fourth finger entered you as Javi forced his face free from you, his nose, lips, and cheeks glinting with your cum, his skin red from where it was pressed against your body. He raised his face high enough so that you could look at him as Dieter now held your face in one place as he rocked his hips against you.

Javi’s expression was soft, his smile wide, as he lightly panted like a puppy to catch his breath.

Yet despite that softness, his fingers did not relent, and only moved within you with new vigour and force, rising until you could hear the sound of his knuckles slapping against your wet cunt and you bucked as another crash of pleasure errupted within you, desperate to escape from every pore on your body.

Dieter, knowing your signals well, pressed his body and cock into you, muffling your deep groan as you twitched around Javi’s fingers.

“I’m sorry, querida,” Javi whispered as he kissed your wet and sticky thigh, “that was unkind of me.” He told you as Dieter pulled himself off of you and Javi out of you.

All you could do was lay on the bed, panting to catch your breath as your brain tried to catch up to what was going on around you instead of focusing on how your pussy pulsed and how your blood rushed to all the wrong and unhelpful places within your body.

“You have been so good to us.” You heard Javi whisper but it was hard to tell how close he was, and you only assumed very as you felt arms that weren’t Dieter’s pull you so your back was against their chest; Javi’s chest. You rocked your head back, mostly because it was too heavy to hold at the moment, to gaze up to see the softest, sweetest, most caring eyes watching you.

It brought you a throaty, mindless, smile.

“Hola.” Javi lovingly greeted you and you closed your eyes, humming as your smile spread further at the sweet sound of his voice. “Let us give you what you wish, hmn?” He whispered again, and you felt your body moved once more, but this time with four hands.

Your mind finally came back to you as you realized Javi had positioned himself against the headboard of the bed, Dieter kneeled between his spread legs, and both men holding you high enough that the tip of Javi’s cock brushed the lips of your pussy.

“Relax, baby,” Dieter told you with a soft kiss on your lips. “We got you.” He confirmed and you slowly leaned back, Javi having positioned his chest to be able to greatly support the top of your back while leaving your lower suspended within their grip. Slowly you felt them lower you onto Javi’s cock.

You moaned as he entered you, his girth more than you had before—or so it felt at this moment. Your back arched as Dieter’s tongue was pressed against your clit before sliding lower to where Javi was slowly moving in and out of you.

“Javi.” You could only manage to whisper his name as you fully relaxed against his body, within his hold, his light chuckle brushing against your cheek feeling like the only thing you needed to live until his cock moved without you and instantly you were reminded of the finer things in life. You heard his labored breaths mixed with his soft grunts of pleasure and exhausted efforts as he moved within you, as Dee and him raised you up and lovingly lowered you onto him.

You could feel when Dieter’s tongue was on you, and you knew where it was when you couldn’t, if Javi’s increased panting didn’t give it away.

The lack of attention from Dieter didn’t upset you though, for it made Javi crave and take more of you, the movements of your body becoming harsher, less controlled, as Javi’s lips found you neck and shoulder, his teeth nipping at your flesh when you saw Dee’s head dip with purposeful force. A feral moan from Dieter was accompanied by a firm, powerful, pull on Javi’s body that shifted your bodies forward yet it caused you to fall backwards from the lack of support of the headboard. Your full weight rested on Javi and you heard him groan as you shifted, only to look down between his thighs to know why.

“Shit…” Javi moaned before his arms wrapped around your torso, one hand firmly grabbing a breast while the other trailed lower until it rested on your swollen bud. Slowly he moved his fingers, his stomach rolling under you as he rocked in and out, Dieter moaning as you knew his tongue and mouth were either wrapped around Javi’s balls or occupying the base of his cock.

For a few minutes you were all tied up like that, your sweaty, hot, bodies grinding against eachother, a chorus of moans, groans and gasps of pleasure and surprise as you all devoured and enjoyed eachother. You arm bent back so your fingers could lace, once again, into Javi’s curls, pulled and twisting them so his sweet, soft, lips were once again pressed upon your body.

You felt yourself melt into Javi, your body rolling along with his muscles and tension as he moved into you, leaving you feeling like you were wading in a sea of pleasure when Dieter’s tongue returned to you like a storm rolling in to disturb your peace.

He licked and pinched and bit you before he soothed the touch with soft kisses, relieving Javi’s fingers from their duty to replace them with his own before slowly bringing his body upwards while still kneeling between Javi.

Dieter watched you with a slightly detached gaze, like he was half here, half lost in his thoughts of what he wanted to do in this moment—most likely to both you and Javi.

Javi, on the other hand, being very present with your body, still slowly rolling into you, teasing you, slowly building up your tension for release. Dieter would have done this to torture you, yet Javi seemed to bask in the glory of the slow, tender, love making you two were engaged in. His free hand pressed against your stomach as his lips kissed the back of your ear before repeating the multitude of compliments and praises he had already given you.

Your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you let out a lowly moan seemed to bring Dieter back to the present, as his fingers gripped you with a new sense of life and purpose.

“You feel good, baby?” He asked with a tight jaw as you forced your eyes open, straining to focus on him as your body pulled you back into your prone and gasping position. You opened your mouth to respond, to confirm, but Dee just growled, pressing his fingers into where Javi also occupied. “Does that make my little slut happy?”

“Our.” Javi proudly corrected with a defined and firm thrust, both of you gasping in pleasure as you could feel Dieter twist in you, most definitely ensure to touch Javi as much as he was touching you. The thought was numbing to think about, to dream about, yet unbelievable to know you were living through it. It was too much.

No longer could you push yourself to take more of them. To withhold your arousal, to stop it from peaking and spilling over. You needed that release.

You needed what was promised.

From the opposite ear that Javi whispered to you came Dieter’s dark, dangerous and husky voice.

“You like that, don’t you?” His question and tone rhetorical. “Being our little whore, our toy to play with.”

His words had to moan in response, a moan that quickly turned into a yelp as Dieter’s body shook with how much force he moved his hand against your clit.

“Don’t stop.” You couldn’t help from speaking the request as your throat tightened, your mind burning white at the heat coursing through your body, desperate for more of them. “Make me come, please fucking make me come!” You begged until you were yelling, Dieter’s gaze intent on yours, darkening the more he saw you unravel.

“You think you deserve to?” He asked you slyly, his roughness immediately stopping, causing an immediate snarl from you.

“I’ve been good!” You argued, furious at how he drew light circles around you, at how Javi returned to his slow, steady, and passionate rhythm when you just wanted to be manhandled by the both of them—to be split in half if that’s what it took to give you the release you needed.

“Say it again, baby,” Dieter told you as his fingers began to, once again, move faster.

“I’ve been good.” You whispered as you felt Javi’s pace faintly quicken, the beginning and end of his thrusts being firmer, more pronounced, as Dieter harshly swiped against your clit, pinching you in a way he knew you loved. “I’ve been good.” You repeated as your eyes rolled into the back of your head, as you lost all strength and ability to hold yourself up.

“Don’t stop.” He continued to command you.

“I’ve been good.” You confirmed and begged with a breath, every word bringing you close to the desperate release you chased, every word encouraging the men to praise you for your efforts and endurance. “I’ve been so good.” You stressed as you stuttered an inhale, the heat rising in your belly. “I’ve been. So good. So. Fucking. G—" You let out a loud, long, deep, groan as your pleasure ruptured within you, Javi still keep his rhythmic pace, always pressing against your sweet spot, always accompanied with the even sweeter praise, as Dieter still relentlessly rubbed and tortured your clit as you came and the squirted as you finally orgasmed.

Dieter immediately placed the fingers that were against you between your parted, panting, lips as he watched you with a gleeful smile.

“You have been.” He told you seriously. “You think you’re ready for what I promised you?” He asked as he shifted himself closer to you and Javi. “You want both of us in you? Both of us fucking and stretching the shit out of that pretty pussy of yours?” He asked the redundant question yet waited for you to answer, but words were hard, so instead you closed your mouth around his fingers and gave him a look that told him it was offensive he would think you would wish otherwise.

He just smiled before his hand reached down between his legs and you felt him press his cock against you.

“Relax baby,” he told you yet you heard Javi also take a deep breath of anticipation, Dieter immediately losing his dominating composure to a look of endearment at you both, before the dark glint returned. “You don’t want me to be nice about it, do you?” He asked you, waiting for your response as you watched him, slowly shaking your head to say ‘no’. He smiled “That’s my girl.”

You gasped as you felt Dee press further into you, the pain of the stretch causing you to take quick and shallow breaths, until Javi’s calming hand swooped over your stomach as a reminder to relax, a reminder that he was there to soothe all pain that may come, that had been.

“You’re so beautiful, querida.” Javi whispered the praise into your ear as you watched Dieter’s expression pinch as you knew he was also feeling the effects of him stuffing a second cock into you—neither being considered small, or even average, by any means. “Look how well you’re taking us.” He continued his praise, a finger pressed against your cheek to turn your lips towards his.

Kissing Javi helped distract from the pressure between your legs, his mouth soaking up any groans or grunt from you as Dieter slowly began rocking in and out of you, always pressing slightly deeper with each thrust. It was only when you began to moan into Javi’s mouth, moan against his tongue, rested your open lips against his as you panted with mind numbing pleasure that shut down your motor functions, that you felt Javi move within you as well.

You immediately unravelled and lost yourself. There was not a moment your moans and faint curses did not fill the air around you three, not a moment that your voice didn’t overshadow any noise the two of them made in combination, nor a moment you felt like you could breathe, think or comprehend what was going on rather than the burning, pleasurable, sensation of the two men moving within you.

“I’m coming—” You announced like it was a surprise, like it was something that was a shock and needed to be stopped. Your eyes went wide, your mouth open and gasping as Javi and Dieter groaned at you tightening and shaking around them. “Dee—” you began to beg, not thinking you could take it anymore, worried that it was too much, yet he did not seem to share your same concern.

"Have we taken too much from you, hermosa?" Javi asked you, concerned, yet not stopping. You wanted to agree, to tell him yes, to ask them to stop, but words were too hard to conjure. It was too hard to think. Your eyes still closed, you felt Dieter grip your jaw, his mouth to your ear with a growl.

“She can fuckin’ take it, like the well-trained slut she is.” Dieter confirmed with a prominent thrust into you, praising you the way he knew how in these moments, encouraging you to continue to take their cocks, continue to allow them to stretch you, to further unravel at their touch and possession.

And you did take it.

You took many more pleasurable orgasms that they gifted you, took their seed as they both filled you with their climax, took whatever else they still wished to give you after that until they were satisfied and you were mentally in another galaxy.

Javi curled up to your naked, clammy, body only to nestle his head into the crook of your neck. He gave you soft, gentle kisses between his heavy, tired, breaths.

Dieter had gotten up to get you all refreshments and it was only upon his return that Javi broke the silence of your quiet panting.

“Let’s make a movie about this instead Dieter…about a beautiful flower bringing both a butterfly and a bee to its irresistible pollen.” He spoke loud enough for Dieter to hear, causing you to let out a soft, tired, moan as your face fell towards Javi, your eyes still closed. “You are worthy of a million love stories, hermosa.” He whispered into you, and if it weren't for the fact that you felt you could barely move, you would have climbed on top of that heavenly man right then.

Dieter just responded with a short, deep, and highly amused laugh.

“You wanna make a porno, Javi? I mean, I’m down…but I doubt it will carry the same ‘Oscar Buzz’.”

#dieter bravo #javi gutierrez #dieter bravo x reader #javi g x reader #Dieter x reader x javi g #dieter bravo smut #javi g smut #dieter x you #javi g x you #pedrohub #pedro pascal character fanfic #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal characters #booburry writes

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uuuhshiny · 1 year

Photo

Sean Bean in Bravo Two Zero, P9

Soft touch

#by uuuhshiny #Sean Bean #Bravo Two Zero #uuuhshiny's gifs #whumpedit #power #on his knees #neck #interrogation #yes AGAIN #try and stop me now #blindfold

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nerdieforpedro · 21 days

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Nerdie’s Fic Picks - Volume Six!

All fanfics on this list are for readers age 18 and up, please respect the author's tags, warnings and notes as they're there so you know what's in them. YOU are in charge of your own reading experience!

Main fic recommendation list

1. two pack habit & a motel tan by @trulybetty (Frankie morales x f reader)

2. Door Number Three by @morallyinept (Javi G and reader)

3. El Punto de Olvidarte (Part three of Mejor Sin Ti) by @fhatbhabie (Javi P and female reader featuring asshole Joel Miller)

4. Cave In by @javierssunglasses (Jack Daniels x f reader)

5. Bloody Kisses - Part One - Less than zero by @perotovar (Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Tim Rockford)

6. going to make you sweat by @undercoverpena (Javier Peña x f reader)

7. To the Flame chapter 10 by @pedroshotwifey (dark Javier Peña x f reader)

8. Tension by @notjustjavierpena (Javier Peña x f reader)

9. Taurus by @magpiepills (Joel Miller x f reader)

10. 18 x heart candies by @trulybetty (Dieter Bravo x Bryony - ofc)

11. Cruel Summer by @fhatbhabie (Dieter Bravo x plus size reader)

12. Respected by @kteague (Javier Peña x reader - Diosa) SA warning

13. Dámalo by @ramblers-lets-get-ramblin (Javier Peña x f reader)

14. Salty Sweet by @pedroshotwifey (Javier Peña x plus size female reader)

15. Scandal by @wannab-urs (Dieter Beavo x f reader)

16. My Girl by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Din Djarin x f reader)

17. Masterpiece by @morallyinept (Dieter Bravo x f reader)

18. Fairy Gold by @julesonrecord (Ezra - Cali Gold Rush AU x f reader)

19. For the Record by @wannab-urs (Dieter Bravo x f reader)

20. Imagine (Drabble) by @bonezone44 (Ezra x Frankie Morales

21. Sanctuary by @fhatbhabie (Dieter Bravo x plus size f reader - wife)

22. Like Real People Do by @fhatbhabie (Frankie Morales x reader)

23. Love’s a weed: new dress drabble by @tinytinymenace (Frankie Morales x Ruby - OFC)

24. Mine by @toomanystoriessolittletime (Din Djarin x f reader)

25. Breakfast is Served by @maggiemayhemnj (Joel Miller x reader)

26. IRL part three @han_shot_first by @grogusmum (Javier Gutierrez x plus size f reader)

27. bloody kisses — part two: i don't wanna be me by @perotovar (Shane “Dio” Morrissey x Tim Rockford)

28. Longing by @creedslove (Javier Peña x f reader)

29. Cherry Wine by @julesonrecord DDNE (Jack Daniels x wife reader)

30. A Galaxy Far Far Away au: Part 1 First Contact by @grogusmom (Din Djarin x Earthling f reader)

31. Should’ve Stayed Bored by @pedroshotwifey (Chump Joel Miller x f reader

32. To The Flame chapter 11 by @pedroshotwifey (Dark Javier Peña x f reader)

33. Que Creías? by @fhatbhabie (Marcus Pike x plus size female reader)

34. A Galaxy Far Far Away au: Part 2 Juniper Cottage by @grogusmom (Din Djarin x Earthling f reader)

35. A Galaxy Far Far Away au: Part 3 Making Breakfast by @grogusmom (Din Djarin x Earthing f reader)

36. A Galaxy Far Far Away au: Part 4 Freaking Out, On The Outside by @grogusmom (Din Djarin x Earthling f reader)

37. A Galaxy Far Far Away au: Part 5 Di’kut by @grogusmom (Din Djarin x Earthling f reader)

38. The Wolf & The Lamb by @morallyinept (Dave York x plus size female reader)

39. A Work of Art by @boliv-jenta (Lucien Flores x f reader)

40. Roommates 1 You’re Joking right? By @punkshort (pornstar Joel x f reader)

Happy reading everyone! Remember to like and reblog all these amazing writers' fics. 🥰

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monarch-afterdark · 1 month

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Titan History: Godzilla

Welcome once again to Monarch: After Dark, the digital gateway between you and the organisation dedicated to understanding and navigating this troubled new world we live in.

For today's communication, it was decided by Monarch officials stationed at Castle Bravo (Outpost 54) that we should create an updated historical account on arguably the most recognisable and infamous of the Titans we currently know of; Godzilla.

(Pictured above: aerial footage of Godzilla leaving San Francisco the morning after G-Day, circa. 2014)

Monarch Database File: Godzilla

Monarch Designation: Titanus Gojira

Height: 393 feet

Weight: 99,634 tons

Length: 582 feet (tail)

Nature: Bio-Atomic

Behavioural Classification: Protector

---------------

A member of an ancient reptilian species that was known to exist as early as the Permian period, Godzilla serves as a guardian of the natural order, rising from the depths whenever the balance of the world is threatened, be it by other Titans or by humanity. Newfound information has revealed that, at some point in their early history, the Titanus Gojira species waged war against a population of great apes within the Hollow Earth. The outcome was victory for the former, while the latter migrated to a surface landmass that would become Skull Island, where they would face near-extinction.

Throught the millenia, imagery of these Titans showed their defense of humanity against other Titans, including the seemingly extraterrestrial lifeform, "Monster Zero". These battles were documented well, immortialised in the form of cave paintings and tales passed down through the generations.

(Pictured above: Cave painting documenting a battle between Godzilla and Monster Zero, circa. 1973)

While much of the history surrounding the individual we know today as Godzilla is unknown, his modern history is far clearer. First discovered in 1954 by founding Monarch figures William Randa, Keiko Muira and Leland Shaw, the initial reaction to the Titan's existence was an attempt to kill it using a nuclear weapon. Covered up as the Castle Bravo nuclear test, it was believed that Godzilla had been killed until he resurfaced a year later in Hateruma Island.

His next widely documented appearance was the infamous G-Day in 2014. Tracking down a mating pair of Titanus Jinshin-Mushi (aka MUTOs), Godzilla battled and eventually killed them in San Francisco, though not without extensive damage done to the city and the Golden Gate Bridge beforehand. Months later, he battled with a Jinshin-Mushi Prime, which resulted in the Prime destroying his dorsal plates before she, too, was killed.

According to Keiko Muira, and her grandchildren Cate and Kentaro Randa, who were recovered on Skull Island in 2017 through an "in-between" realm linking the surface to the Hollow Earth, Godzilla responded to a Gamma Radiation Simulator abandoned in the 1960's and battled a large dragon-like creature before they were able to escape. Their account is currently under Monarch investigation.

(Pictured above: Godzilla using an "intimidation display" in front of Monarch's Castle Bravo crew, circa. 2019)

In 2019, a mass Titan outbreak instigated by eco-terrorist Alan Jonah and Monarch paleobiologist Emma Russell called Godzilla to action once again. He first appeared in front of Castle Bravo, where he prepared to attack before the outpost lowered its weapons and calmed him down. He made way to Antarctica, where Monster Zero had recently been awakened. The two battled before the latter Titan retreated.

They clashed again off the coast of Isla de Mara, Mexico, where Godzilla succeeded in tearing off one of Monster Zero's heads. Before this battle could end, likely in Godzilla's favour, the military deployed an experimental superweapon called the Oxygen Destroyer, which severely weakened Godzilla and allowed Monster Zero to escape and regenerate its missing head before usurping control over Earth's Titans.

Their final battle took place in Boston following an evacuation of the city. Godzilla had support from an ally Titan known as Mothra to battle Monster Zero and its own ally, Rodan. The battle ravaged much of Boston, and culminated in Godzilla being dropped from the troposphere and Mothra being killed by a powerful blast from Monster Zero. With some assistance from Monarch and a final gift from Mothra, Godzilla achieved a heightened state of power and caused a thermonuclear explosion that destroyed Boston, and Monster Zero.

Following the battle, other Titans gathered around and bowed before Godzilla, accepting him as their new alpha. In the interim between this and the next major incident, Godzilla would travel the globe and keep other Titans, such as Scylla and Amhuluk, in check.

(Pictured above: Godzilla surrounded by other Titans, bowing down and accepting his claim as the alpha Titan, circa. 2019)

Following a period of minimal Titan activity, Godzilla suddenly surfaced in Pensacola, Florida and destroyed an Apex Cybernetics facility before returning to the depths. In response to this, a joint operation between Monarch and Apex went underway to use another Titan, Kong, to track down an energy source that would give humanity the edge over Godzilla before he could hurt more people.

Godzilla and Kong clashed twice. Their first battle took place in he Tasman Sea, where Godzilla intercepted a naval fleet transporting Kong to Antarctica. This encounter was short-lived, and only a last-ditch effort by ex-Monarch agent Nathan Lind prevented Kong from being killed. Their second brawl in Hong Kong placed Kong on better footing, armed with an axe he obtained within the Hollow Earth, though Godzilla still prevailed and nearly killed Kong.

However, deception from Apex allowed them to siphon the energy from the Hollow Earth into a secret anti-Titan weapon, Mechagodzilla. After losing control of the mecha, it went on a rampage and battled a weary Godzilla nearly to death before a resuscitated Kong intervened. Working together, the two Titans triumphed over Mechagodzilla and parted ways without further conflict.

(Pictured above: Godzilla departing Hong Kong following Mechagodzilla's defeat. To date, this is the last confirmed sighting of Godzilla, circa. 2024)

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And there you go! A simplified but up-to-date account of Godzilla's modern history. We will upload more information regarding him as we are authorized to do so by Monarch officials. We hope you have learned something from this historical account, and we will be back shortly with new information.

Until next time,

Monarch: After Dark

#monarch #monarch after dark #godzilla #titanus gojira #kong #monster zero #monsterverse #godzilla 2014 #godzilla king of the monsters #godzilla vs kong #godzilla x kong the new empire

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queermentaldisaster · 2 months

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“The Hunt Is My Muse”

Chapter six, guys! Now, I did have to cut out a good chunk of the dialogue, because otherwise this would have to be two or three separate chapters and i just wasn't doing that. Now, this chapter is 1,928 words, so uh...be forewarned.

Tags: @sans-chara @spicyspicyliving @meowmeowriley @forestshadow-wolf @bringinsexybackk69

Small cw for very minor and brief flashbacks + a near panic attack.

Chapter under the cut.

Chapter Six: We'll Never Surrender

No, no, this couldn’t be happening. Everything was fine only an hour ago.

They’d gotten the information from Valeria and disarmed one missile, and now…

He watched as Graves shot Soap in the arm. The panther within him snarled, as he ducked behind the vehicle. “Go, Johnny! Get out of there!” Soap barely moved, and a growl bubbled up in Ghost’s throat. “Soap, go!” The snarl in his voice propelled Soap, who shoved the dead Shadow off himself and hopped over the nearby concrete barrier. He heard Soap curse and then shift as Ghost ran. He was quick, quiet, and undetectable. He managed to get into the town, just as the Shadows began flooding in.

He managed to get halfway to the church, determined to wait for Soap, if he was still alive. Then, his radio crackled to life. “This is Bravo 7-1, in the blind…How copy?” Ghost’s heart pounded. ‘Johnny’s alive.’ “Ghost, this is 7-1, do you copy?” Ghost stabbed a Shadow in the neck before answering Soap. “Soap, this is Ghost. How copy?” There wasn’t a response. Ghost looked out the window, plotting his next movement. “Johnny?” He questioned again. “Johnny, how copy?” His voice gained a hint of worry.

“Solid.” Soap’s voice came over the radio. Ghost breathed a sigh of relief, as he made his way towards the tunnels under the city, the ones that led to the church. “Thought we lost you. You injured?” It was taking every inch of his mental strength to keep from shifting, but Soap’s voice seemed to soothe the storm as he let out a snarky response. “I’m not a medic.” That made Ghost snicker. “Tell me something I don’t know. Now, keep your blood in, you’ll need every drop.” He heard Soap sigh. “Thanks for the tip. Where are ye?” Ghost hummed. “There’s a church. I’m heading to it. Let’s RV there. You’ll need to improvise to survive.” He waited for a minute before he heard Soap speak again. “Graves and Shadow are on a killin’ spree.” Ghost nodded. “Lookin for Hassan.” Soap grunted. “Hassan and us.”

“Advise you move interior if you’re not already. It’s good cover.” Ghost said, and he heard Soap groan. “No joy, door’s locked.” Ghost huffed, rolling his eyes. ‘Has he really never done this before?’ He thought. “Look for supplies, things you can make tools with. Welcome to guerrilla warfare…” He heard Soap’s grunt of confirmation before the Scot drew in a sharp breath. “Creepin’ Jesus...” He muttered. “What are you seein?” Ghost asked softly as he snuck past some Shadows, heading straight for the church.

“A bloodbath.” Soap responded. Ghost sighed. “Watch your ass. You’ve got exactly zero allies down there.” He heard Soap’s raised eyebrow. “We’re friends, no?” Ghost chuckled. “We’re teammates. Friendship’s not in the field manual, Johnny.” Soap let out an overexaggerated sigh. “Neither is mask-making…” That made Ghost snicker as he got into the church. Then Soap spoke again. “Poor bastard. Found a rope, LT.” Ghost nodded, sitting against the wall at the top of the church. “That’s a start. Keep lookin.” He looked down at his hands, spotting the claws and felt his hands shake. He let out a breath, and then Soap’s voice cut through the silence. “Broke off a fan blade.”

Ghost smiled. “Tie off the blade with the rope and pry open the door.” He heard Soap huff. “Sounds like you’ve done this before.” He murmured. Ghost sighed. “Years of practice…” He murmured, looking down at his hands, the phantom sensations of the maggots crawling on his bare skin coming back for a minute. Soap spoke again. “Busted the fan blade.” Ghost hummed. “Get you through the door?”

“Affirmative.” Soap confirmed. Ghost let out a breath. “Good. Stay on the hunt, there’ll be more where that came from.” Soap went quiet again, and Ghost stared down at his hands, trying to will the claws to retract. They stubbornly refused and Ghost snarled, bringing his hands up to his head. His claws dug into the mask, cracking it slightly. It felt unbearable when Johnny went quiet. The panther wanted to take control, to run through the city, killing everyone in its path until it was sure Johnny was safe. He wasn’t safe unless they could hear or see him.

He let out a groan. ‘What is he doing to me? I can’t ever think straight around him anymore! It’s like he’s completely taken over my entire heart…’ He whined, burying his face in his knees. He hasn’t felt this helpless when it came to the panther since Roba.

That thought alone damn near sets him off, and he has to talk himself down. “Johnny’s not like Roba. He’s not gonna hurt me, or use me if he finds out I’m a shifter.” He whispered, and that seemed to calm him down enough so he wouldn’t shift right there. He takes deep breaths, and then hears the radio crackle back to life. “Found a headlamp. Not too far from its…previous owner.” Soap said, and Ghost forced himself to sound like he hadn’t just damn near had a breakdown. “Good. Careful with it. Can light your way, but attract attention.”

“Oowf…” Soap muttered. “What’s the latest?” Ghost asked, concerned. “Mercs are killin’ everythin’ in their path.” Soap responded, his voice sharp and harsh. “War crimes…” Ghost muttered. “Makes me want ta commit a few war crimes of mah own.” Soap spat. Ghost growled. “Tyranny. It won’t stand.”

“Think we’ll get the green light tae go after these guys?” Soap asked, and Ghost rolled his eyes as he set up his rifle. “No more green lights, Johnny. We’re on our own.” Soap went silent for a minute as Ghost scanned the streets with the scope of his rifle. “What about Captain Price?” Soap asked. Ghost sighed sadly. “Price isn’t here, is he? The old man can’t bail us out, not this time.”

Soap was quiet for another moment before he spoke again. “Ah trust the Captain, if he knew, he’d be here.” Ghost chuckled, a bitter sound. “Be careful who you trust, Sergeant. People you know can hurt you the most.” He said. Soap’s chuckle was heard over the radio. “Good advice Lt, I wanna be like you when I grow up.” That…that scared Ghost. To even think of someone else as broken as he was, much less Johnny? To imagine Soap’s light snuffed out by the shit Ghost had gone through? No. “You want to be better than me, Johnny…” Soap must’ve understood how serious that was, because he said; “I will be.”

“Good man.” Ghost said. Soap huffed. “Think ah’ll live that long?” Ghost went dead silent for a minute. ‘I pray you do, Johnny.’ “Probably not.” He said out loud. Soap chuckled. “Such faith in me.” And then Soap went silent.

Ghost let his claws tap on the concrete of the church’s windowsill, a sound inaudible to anyone outside the church. He let out a breath, waiting for Soap to speak again.

“Did you see the caged dog?” He heard Soap say. Ghost huffed. “Big geezer. If he barks, shoot him and repo quickly. Don’t get compromised.” Soap rolled his eyes. “Ye are stone cold, Simon.” Ghost’s heart fluttered at the sound of his name coming from Soap’s lips. But, he covered up his elation. “What ‘as two legs and bleeds?” he asked, and Soap groaned. “Don’t tell me…”

“‘Alf a dog.” Ghost said, smirking underneath the mask. Soap’s annoyed breath was audible, even over comms. “Ah asked ya not ta tell me.” Ghost snickered. “Gimme a sit-rep.” He ordered. Soap immediately did so. “Outside. Gated alley.” Ghost nodded. “Stick to the edges and stay low.”

“Copy.” Soap murmured. After a moment of thought, Ghost spoke up. “You may get a brag rag for this.” Soap scoffed. “A medal?” Ghost hummed in confirmation. “Chest candy.” He could hear the eye roll from Soap. “That’s all rubbish.” Ghost shrugged. “You said you wanted a win. Congratulations, you’re a winner.”

“Away ‘n bile yer heid!” Soap exclaimed and Ghost rolled his eyes. “English, MacTavish.” Soap huffed. “Sorry sir, let me translate. Go fuck yourself.” Ghost chuckled. “Much better. Now, the church is on the north side of the city. I’ve set up a sniper position in the church tower. Find your way there, and you just may make it.” Soap made a grunt of affirmation and then went quiet.

Ghost kept giving Soap tips, talking with him, and just generally keeping him company.

Then Soap spoke up again. “I’m in the coffee shop.” Ghost grinned. “Get us a tea.” Soap groaned. “Fuckin Brits…you’re gonna owe me for this.” Ghost chuffed. “Why?” Soap gekkered. “We’re fixin’ each other’s problems.”

“What’s my problem?”

“The mask…take it off.”

“Show my face?”

“Yes sir.”

“Negative.”

“Are you ugly?”

“Quite the opposite.”

“I doubt that.” He heard Soap mutter, and Ghost let go of the button, frowning underneath his mask. He wasn’t pretty. The years of war and torture had made sure of that. But he’d heard once that confidence was key, so he always pretended. Pretended not to care, pretended he was prettier than he was, pretended that he was an emotionless bastard. But somehow…Soap was breaking his masks, literally and metaphorically. And he felt better than he had in years, just from hearing Soap talk, from Soap existing in his general vicinity. Maybe…he could finally be…Simon, at least around Soap.

So Ghost kept guiding, talking to, and joking around with Soap. Of course, the man’s luck ran out, because the moment he tried to open one of the shop doors at the church plaza, a Shadow opened it and would’ve killed him, if Ghost hadn’t immediately moved his scope and shot the Shadow in the head. More ran out, trying to surround the shop, and they all got cut down by Ghost. ‘You’re not gonna fuckin touch my Johnny.’ He thought. “Holy hell, Ghost, was that you?” Soap asked.

Ghost scoffed, as he got up from his position. “Who else? Now go!” He descended from the church tower, only to find a bunch of Shadows. “Gimme a bloody break…Ghost, how copy?” Soap’s voice crackled over the radio. Ghost pulled out his handgun. “Johnny, got company in the church and they’re not here for forgiveness! Get to the steps, I’ll be there!”

“Copy, Lt.” Soap said, and Ghost immediately turned and ran for the exit, firing at the Shadows. He ran out and heard Soap. “Ghost!” He looked forward and broke out into a grin under his mask. “Soap!” He exclaimed, shooting two pursuing Shadows and hopping over the gate in one movement, causing Soap to freeze and stare at him.

“We need a vehicle, on me! Stay sharp, they know we're here and they know it's us. They'll send more.” Ghost said, and Soap nodded, seeming to snap out of his stupor. They began clearing the Shadows, running for the nearest vehicle, which was a pickup truck, who’s previous owner had been…disposed of. Once they climbed in, Ghost looked at Johnny with the proudest look on his face. “Alright Johnny, you made it.” Soap did that cocky grin that Ghost just loved. “We made it, Lt.” Then, Shadows began shooting at the truck. Soap began shooting at them, and in a moment of impulse, Ghost backed up and ran them over.

“That’s one way o’ doin’ it!” Then Soap’s eyes locked onto a Shadow out the driver’s side. “Get back!” Ghost instinctually leaned back, and watched as Soap shot the Shadow. “Thanks.” Ghost muttered. Soap looked at Ghost and nodded. “Drive, I’ll cover us!” And with that, Ghost drove off.

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wildemaven · 10 months

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Sweet Creature: Chapter Six

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x F!Reader

WC: 4511

Warnings: 18+ Blog; mentions of food and drinks, unwanted touching, self doubt, pining, two dumb dumbs navigating fEeLiNgS, reader has a nickname but has zero descriptive features, fluff, like always please let me know if there’s anything I missed.

A/N: This chapter!! I think it’s just been a week for me, dealing with minimal sleep and a teething babe— I was near giving up on it. But, it’s done! Wrote out a good portion of it and then hated it so I rewrote it and then ending up going in a completely different direction— but I like where it ended up going. Thanks again for all the love and kind words on this series!! Only 4 more chapters to go!! Adding: Thank you to @gnpwdrnwhiskey for beta’ing this labor of love and all her support and help as I write this!

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An endless loop of vivid thoughts frequent your weary mind— starting early in the morning and well into the evening.

Dieter, his stupid handsome face and the way he has you falling for him, your brain in a constant flustered state.

You keep mulling over the possibilities of allowing yourself to be vulnerable, open to the idea of something growing between you and Dieter.

Each alternative has its advantages and risks.

Leaning into your feelings and granting Dieter access to the thing you’ve spent years guarding, trusting that he will stand alongside you as you fully open your heart to a chance at a future together.

But what if he doesn’t want the same things as you?? You contemplate if settling for just his friendship is enough, never pursuing the growing connection between you, accepting him in your life but always at an arm's length.

Dieter’s impending departure has you a mess, your growing feelings for him only making it worse.

“Are you still there sweetheart?”

“Yeah— Sorry Mom, I’m still here.” You assured her, finishing up the rest of your makeup as you get yourself ready for the Capri Hotel’s big event.

“You sound so far away. What’s bothering you?”

“Ugh. I don’t even know where to begin Mom. None of it’s really all that bad, just a lot at once I guess.”

“Well, I’m here to listen if you need to get it off your chest.”

Moments like these, you wished she lived closer, missing your kitchen conversations at the end of a long day. No matter how depleted she was after work, she made dinner with a smile and sat for as long as you needed her to, her shoulders always carrying the weight of your heart when needed.

“Just trying to keep it together most days. School has been busy, end of year things have me drained. Then there’s the whole gallery thing, it has me stressed I won’t be ready for the showing. I’ve finally managed to get a chunk of my pieces painted and prepped— I have like 5 more to do. And I’m sad it’s closing, I only have a few classes left there.” You pause for a moment, you hadn’t intended on an emotional dump when you called your Mom, just wanted to check in and say hello. “It’s all good things though, so I don’t even know why it feels overwhelming, I guess I feel like I’m going to let someone down somewhere along the way.”

“Hmm. Well, I know how hard you are on yourself, but I also know how hard you work— especially when it involves all the things you love. You’re going to get through it all! I believe in you.”

Her voice feels like a warm embrace as it drifts through your phone, the stress already feeling like it has lifted a bit with her reassurance.

“So, how are things with your guy? Any new things on that front?”

“Well, he’s not my guy.” Chuckling at her abruptness. “I feel like we’re in a good place now— he feels like a close friend that I’ve known my whole life. And the more time we spend together, the more I—“

“The more you what?”

“I don’t even know, Mom. Like there’s these things he does, I don’t know if he’s just being nice or what, but he does these little things that make me so happy. He brings me coffee in the mornings when he drops his niece off at school, leaves little notes for me on the cups— I save them Mom, I have a stack of these coffee cups in my kitchen.”

You hear a muffled hum, her signal that she’s already preparing her response to what you have to share, but allowing you to continue.

“He came to one of my classes, and you know what he did? He painted a portrait of me— who does that?! And now, we text each other all the time and I can’t stop smiling when his name pops up on my phone, because I can’t stop thinking of him. Then he gave me this cute nickname that makes my insides turn to goo any time he says it and I— I…”

“You love him, don’t you?”

“Yeah— I do.”

The air is dry, heat waves dancing across the scorching cement, an array of popular songs blaring from the DJ booth situated on the green lawn adjacent to the hotel’s pool deck.

The re-grand opening celebration of The Capri in full effect.

The hotel had been drawing in plenty of guests after the renovation, rooms booked out regularly, a quintessential tourist destination for the small town. Its mid-century design of wood, natural tones and pops of color paired with the sleek modern aesthetic throughout the hotel’s property was beginning to be recognized by many publications, all looking to showcase the hotel’s unique style in upcoming pieces.

The hotel’s name, big white block letter signage, sits atop the covered entryway. A parked yellow Chevy Deluxe adds to the ambiance of the building’s timeless look.

Giant palm trees and tropical-esque plants in terracotta pots decorate the grounds of the hotel. Small gardens with intimate seating had been strategically placed for optimal usage. A large lawn space in the back was draped in string lighting and had the perfect view of daily sunsets. The pool itself was a perfect backdrop for a day of relaxing, vintage woven lawn chairs and oversized umbrellas lined each side of the large pool surrounded by lush greenery.

Dieter was able to snag a chair early on, perks of knowing the hotel owner, the umbrella shade blocking enough of the sun to make the extremely warm weather bearable.

He’s trying his best to enjoy himself, knowing he’s doing Diem a favor keeping an eye on Wren while she’s running around doing her hotel-party hostess duties, but the growing crowd of guests and invitees feel more overwhelming, reminding him of the elaborate Hollywood parties he’s attended.

Only a few people have stopped to ask for autographs or pictures, slightly surprised there’s still a fan base that has an interest in him these days.

“How come they don’t want me to sign their papers? I know how to write my name too!” Wren, her voice tinged with a pouty tone, says from where she’s lounging on her chair next to him.

“I don’t know, Birdie. Next time, you can sign your name too, seems only fair.”

“Okay. I can draw a heart for them too.”

Wren, satisfied with the compromise, goes back to sipping on her iced lemonade and watching one of her shows on her iPad, zero interest in what's going on around her.

“How’s she doing?” Diem asks as she sits on the edge of the Wren’s chair, placing another lemonade on the small accent table between the two of them.

“She’s good, wanted to take a break from swimming for a bit. You, umm— hear from Poppy yet?”

“Why? You finally going to tell her you’ve got it bad for her??”

Grateful his sunglasses are dark enough to block the eye roll intended for Diem, he glances over to see Wren still absorbed into her show then back to Diem and whispering a low -fuck off- accompanied with a playful middle finger.

“She texted me a bit ago, said she was running late, but would be here soon— Oh! Speak of the devil, look who just arrived. I’m going to go say hi and I’ll send her over so you can tell her how much you’ve missed her.” Diem’s menacing voice earns her another middle finger from Dieter, leaving him to greet you properly.

Dieter catches sight of you weaving through the pack of bodies meandering around the pool, taking in how your face lights up the minute you see Diem welcoming you with a hug, both of you embracing each other as if you hadn'tnd just hung out days prior.

He’s seen you in your casual clothes outside of school before. Usually a pair of favorite jeans and t-shirt, a sundress sprinkled in on warmer days, but something about seeing you in a bathing suit and shorts has his brain short-circuiting almost instantly.

Tilting his head forward, his pointer finger pulling his sunglasses slowly down the bridge of his nose. He’s completely taken aback, mesmerized by you, noting every little detail— your captivating features that make him absolutely weak, every delicate curve so perfectly placed, each flaw you try so hard to hide merely a perfect addition to your allurement.

The second you and Diem turn in his direction, he’s shaken out of his trance, trying to focus on anything to make his blatant staring seem less obvious.

“I see an open chair next to Dieter, do you think he’ll mind if I hang out with them?” You point to the open space next Dieter, who is helping Wren navigate something on her iPad.

Unfortunately, as you say it, you notice a beautiful woman sitting in the lounger you were inquiring about. You try your best to keep the tinge of jealousy concealed, the last thing you want is to draw any sort of attention to your feelings for Dieter at this time.

“Never mind, I’m sure I’ll find somewhere to set my stuff.” There’s a subtle hint of sadness in your eyes, avoiding watching the women openly flirt with him.

“Babe, you good?” Diem sensing the shift in your demeanor instantly. Peering back at Dieter to see the interaction he’s having with the woman, who now has her hand on his arm, caressing it as she tilts her head and openly ogles him— her fake laugh is a dead give away that she only sees Dieter for his Star Status and nothing more.

“Yeah— y-yeah, I’m good.” Forcing a somewhat convincing smile.

“Hey, I’ve got to go check on catering, make sure everything is running on time and then I’m going to grab Wren for her nap— the last thing I need is a 6 year old meltdown. Don’t worry about her, she doesn’t really seem like his type anyways. We’ll catch up in a bit.” Giving you another hug, letting it linger for a minute, then Diem takes off in the direction of the catering truck.

You’re left standing there, feeling exposed and alone among a sea of strangers. Nervously scanning anywhere but in the direction of where Dieter and the woman are clearly flirting. You contemplate what an appropriate amount of time to spend here would be, before slipping out unnoticed.

It reminds of you showing up to a middle school dance, dressed in the new fancy dress you picked out for the special occasion in hopes of seeing the cute boy, who’s name you spent most of the school year scribbling in your notebooks. Only to walk into the dimly lit and poorly decorated gymnasium to see he is with the head cheerleader and they’re both making heart eyes at each in the middle of the dance floor.

Part of you wants to shrink into the shadows of the crowd, ruminate over the signals you read completely wrong this whole time. Dieter was just being nice, friendly— at no fault of his. You blame yourself for thinking he might have some interest in you, reading into the little details and thinking that you were even his type— clearly far from it.

An up tempo song blasts through the speakers, amping the tone of the party up and pulling you out of your brief moment of sulking.

Friends. Just friends. Dieter and you are friends and that has to be enough for you.

You head in the direction of the open bar, hoping an ice cold beverage will help unburden your angsty thoughts.

“We should hang out sometime!” Dieter cringes at the advances this random woman keeps making towards him.

If this wasn’t his sisters hotel, he’d probably wouldn’t feel bad in being harsh and telling this woman to fuck right off. But he doesn’t want to cause a scene, not knowing how she would react to his rejection.

“Umm, I don’t know— I’ve got a lot going on right now.” Let her down easy.

“Oh come on! You’re not doing anything, you just got out of rehab— and they’ve got you trapped in this boring town too. I’m sure we could find something fun to do together. I know a few parties are happening in WeHo coming up, I can make a few calls— get some treats to liven things up.” Her hand still fondling his arm.

He winces at her crass comment, a reminder of why he chose to escape the acrimonious world of Hollywood.

He doesn’t have a single regret about being here in Ojai either, he enjoys its simplicity and is starting to feel like he could see himself here long term.

“Look, I’m sure you're nice and all— but I’m not interested.”

“Okay, well we can do something else then. How about we go back to my room, I’m staying here.” Wiggling her hotel key between her fingers.

She’s clearly not grasping at the obvious hint Dieter is giving her.

“No, I’m not interested in your room or you.” He says politely, grabbing her hand and removing it from his arm.

“What do you mean?!”

“He has a girlfriend, lady!” Wren piped up in Dieter’s defense.

“Wait! You have a kid? And a girlfriend?”

“No— to both things.”

“God, rehab made you so fucking boring.” She scoffed, offended by his sobriety and his lack of interest in her.

“Okay, so what we’re not going to do is that, my niece is right here. You can go now.”

She didn’t hesitate at his request, grabbing her things and walking away— pretending to be unbothered by the rejection.

“Sorry about that Birdie. Some people are just—“

“Weird!”

“Yeah, weird. Hey, Birdie?”

“Yeah.”

“I know you think Poppy is— she’s not my girlfriend, we’re just friends. So, let’s maybe not call her that anymore okay?” Although, he likes the way the two words mix together in the same sentence.

He worries it’s going to slip in your presence, he knows wren means no harm by it, but he would hate for you to feel uncomfortable if you ever were to hear her say it.

“Mhmm.” Her non-committal response earns her a laugh, fully focused on her show like nothing ever happened.

Dieter takes in the lively atmosphere around him. Laughter emanating from the party guests gathered in small groups around the pool, a carefree crowd dancing throughout the lawn area, smiles plastered on everyone’s faces— he couldn’t be more proud of Diem and all she has accomplished.

Readjusting the collar of his colorful half buttoned shirt, Dieter settles back into the chair, letting the sun kiss every bit of his exposed skin.

“How are things going over here?” Diem quietly asked, pulling Dieter from his ruminative thoughts.

Diem scoots Wren’s listless legs over to allow room for her to sit down, leaning over she grabs the device from her tiny sleepy hands, Wren’s little head nodding as she struggles to keep her drowsy eyes open.

“No complaints, looks like you had a good turnout. I’m really proud of you Diem, not just all of this,” His hand pointing around to her accomplishments on display in the form of a successfully running hotel and her well executed re-grand opening festivities. “But with Wren too. I’m glad that I got this chance to be with you both.”

“Don’t go getting all sappy on me—“ Her voice wobbly and soft as she beams at his acknowledgment of her dedication to her work and Wren. “Thank you. And I wouldn’t have been able to pull this off without your help.”

Dieter nods, mirroring her heartfelt gratitude.

“Have you seen Poppy? I saw you both talking earlier.” He hopes he doesn’t sound too desperate, wanting to know your whereabouts, if you’re okay and why you’re not here— with him.

“She didn’t make it over?” His brows draw together, shaking his head slightly. Her nose wrinkled at the realization of why you hadn’t come over.

“What?”

“She saw you and your— little friend earlier, I don’t know for sure, but she seemed somewhat saddened by it. I’m surprised she didn’t come over though.”

“Shit! I gotta go. You good with her.” He stands abruptly, an unnerving feeling creeping up from his chest, hoping you didn’t mistake what you saw for anything but an awkward fan interaction.

“Yeah, go. I’m going to go put her down in my office.” Scooping up Wren’s sleeping frame. “Dieter?”

He turns back to her calling his name, hands flexing at his side, a nervous tick of his, as he waits for what Diem has to add.

“You should tell her.”

He’s not sure why it’s so difficult to find someone in a somewhat enclosed area. His eyes scanning every ecstatic face as he sidesteps through conversations anchored in effervescent exuberance, a stark contrast from his growing collection of spiraling thoughts.

If he could just find you, explain the situation to you in its entirety.

Explain how he truly feels.

How you'rer his first thought when he wakes in the morning, the giddy anticipation of seeing how beholden you are as he hands you the coffee he picks up from the bakery Wren and him stop at before school, how he takes in the way you tilt your head just enough to read the ridiculous notes he scribbles on the sides of each cup, “Have a Brewtiful Day!” “Better latte than never.”—each one extracting the most intoxicating laugh.

How he looks forward to seeing your face light up at his stupid jokes, never once admitting how horrible you think they are.

How you’re an added reason for him to want to be sober, never wanting to be on the receiving end of your disappointment in him. He wants that rewarding experience of seeing how proud you are of him.

And how he wants nothing more than to have you in his arms— morning, noon and night, keeping you as close as he possibly can, terrified that you’ll disappear the moment he lets you go.

His world seems to come to a standstill, everything he had been working up the courage to tell you, drained from his mind instantly.

Utterly shattered by the sight of you.

That smile of yours, paired with a full body laugh, directed at the man standing next to you. Your hand holding the top of his oversized bulging bicep as his large hand gently cups your elbow, leaning into each other as you both exchange words.

A reality he hadn’t even considered in the time he spent looking for you— you being happy with someone who isn’t him.

Crushed.

Confused.

Broken.

It’s a dizzying sensation. A chance lost— or so he thinks.

Rubbing his hands against his shorts, removing the evidence of his anxious response to seeing you wrapped up in what looked like an intimate conversation, his head still in a fogged state of shock.

He manages to will his body to move from where he’s been standing. His jaw ticks anxiously, surrounded by bodies dancing around his blurry peripherals. Releasing a deep sigh, he looks back to you once more, looking for what he hopes is closure.

Instead, he catches the moment the man you’d been friendly with, gesturing a goodbye as he retreats from the space he’d been sharing with you.

Dieter watches the way your expression morphs from bright and bubbly to soft and muted the minute you're alone, leaning against the cocktail table with your face tucked into your shoulder, closing yourself off from everything and everyone.

“Mind if I join you?” Dieter calmly approaches you, still holding on to the single thread of hope that he didn’t lose his chance.

“Hey! Of course you can.” Your face instantly lights up at the sight of him, patting the open spot on the table, genuinely welcoming him to be with you.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything?”

“What do you mean?” A line appears between your brows, shifting your body to fully face him with one arm still draped over the table top, your fingers casually drawing shapes onto the silky thin table cloth.

“The guy, I saw you talking to him— looks like he works out, a lot— the man is very hot.” Words fumbling out of his mouth, as he points back in the direction he thinks he saw the muscular guy head in. “I just mean, I don’t want to interrupt if there’s something potentially happening there.”

Your lips pressed together in an attempt to fight off the urge to laugh.

“What?”

“There was nothing happening there, like at all. That was Dan, he’s a good friend and he comes to classes at the gallery. I’d offer to introduce you two, since you think he’s so hot, but he just got back from his honeymoon— with his equally hot husband. We were just catching up.”

Dieter winces at your explanation of who the man was, feeling like an idiot for so foolishly assuming you were falling for the guy.

“Besides, he’s not really my type.” You state boldly with your head cocked to the side, one eye squinting to block the sun rays as you take stock of the way the sunlight tangles in his hair.

“Where’s your friend from earlier? She was really pretty. You both really seem to be hitting it off earlier.” Keeping your tone neutral, looking down at where your fingers are now pulling at a loose thread on the tablecloth, preparing yourself for how his response is definitely going to wreck you.

His hand settles next to yours, his fingers nervously tapping onto the hard surface.

“Actually, I have no clue who she was— didn’t even ask for her name, didn’t want to know it either. Sure, she was pretty and maybe in different circumstances I might have been interested in her… She was pissed though when I turned her down, I actually had to tell her to leave.”

“Really— Why?” Your attention drawn back up to where he’s still studying you, his brown eyes locked with yours, now etched in a glistening golden light from the setting sun.

He lifted his shoulders in a gentle shrug, taking a deep breath as he looked at you, “She just isn’t who I’m interested in.”

When you think back to when you were growing up, constantly daydreaming about what it would feel like the moment you realized you were in love, and if it would feel as good to have that same feeling reciprocated back to you, by someone who wholeheartedly felt the same way.

You decide that this is that moment, and it’s even better than you imagined it would be.

Dieter’s eyes drift over to the table, his hand slowly inching closer to yours, the light brush of his fingers over the top of your hand is electric, your breath catching as he begins to intertwine his fingers with yours.

His thumb, tender as it slowly smooths over the ridges of your hand, glancing back to you to make sure that there’s no sign of discomfort in your face— you squeeze your fingers, a silent ‘I’m more than okay with this’.

A breeze picks up, his hair tousling around as it blows through where you both are standing. You lift your free hand to swipe the hanging curls out of his face, your fingers taking liberty to rake through his downy hair, each curl bouncing back into place.

“What’s your type then?” It’s menacing the way his husky voice cuts through the steady silence, encouraging you to share with him.

“Hmm…Tall, funny, sweet, driven, pretty— like really fucking pretty. Also has to answer to Uncle Dude in the presence of a sweet little 6 year old. Know of anyone who might fit that description?”

He nods along as you list off each quality, his eyes lighting up at mentioning good-looking.

“That’s quite the list.” He quips, your breathy laugh prompting a lopsided grin from him. “So— pretty, huh?”

“Yeah— really fucking pretty.” Your words are drawn out in a sincere manner, noting the way his eyes crinkle a little at the compliment.

Dieter’s hand nestles at the base of your neck, drawing your body closer to him. His touch potent and satisfying, as he commits to memory the way your skin feels beneath his fingertips, gliding them down your bare spine leaving goosebumps in their wake— his gaze never leaving yours.

“You’re interested in someone?” The answer seems obvious, but you want to hear it from him.

“Poppy, you gotta know it’s you—“ He utters earnestly with both of his hands now cupping your cheeks, watching the way your lips part as he leans in closer. “I lo— like you so fucking much Poppy, you’re the only one I’m interested in.”

The way he started to say that he loves you, it feels like you might float away, anchoring your hands on his wrists. Everything tingles in your stomach, he’s so close, his breath fanning over your lips. Your lashes flutter as he slowly angles your face, his nose brushing against yours.

It’s a whirlwind of energy drifting between both of you, building intensity with each passing second, the finality of the moment bound to be explosive.

Tiny hairs of his mustache grazing the underside of your nose. The top of his lip begins to settle over yours, it’s pillowy weight slowly meeting your—

*RING RING RING*

“Fuck!” The word vibrates across your upper lip at the vexing sound of Dieter’s phone ringing, offensively interrupting the flow of your almost kiss and urging him to answer it.

“I swear, if that’s Diem—“ A picture of Diem and Wren lights up the phone screen, his thumb swiping across to accept the call, he stands to his full height as he presses the device to his ear. “Hey, what’s up?… Okay… Yeah…Yeah, I’ll be there in a minute then… Love you too, bye.” Dieter ends the call and shoves his phone back into his pocket.

The entire phone conversation, his focus remains on you. His free hand never leaves the side of your face, thumb stoking across the warmed apple of your cheek—Your hand still holding on to him, the cadence of his heart-rate is rapid against your palm.

“Diem?”

“Yeah, she said Wren wanted to go home. She has to stay for another hour or two, make sure things close out here before she can head home.” He explains, zero annoyance detected in his face. “You okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m perfect.” You say softly, an airy smile spreading across your face. “What do we do now?”

Dieter takes in your question, so many answers floating around in his mind, but none of them feel sufficient enough at this moment, wanting to properly share everything he’s been feeling without being rushed or interrupted.

He leans back into your space, his lips pressing a chaste kiss between your brows before resting his forehead against yours.

“We’ll figure it out as we go.”

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