#I wanna catch up and get to season 5!!!

[sleepybean427]

I finally got to season 4 of Monkie Kid and I gotta admit, I’m not ready to see shadow MK 🥲

I mean who knows? Maybe it won’t be so bad, but I’m scared for my golden retriever boy and absolute favorite character MK. He doesn’t seem to be doing so well after season 3 😢

This poor boy can’t handle more trauma

[ifyourereadingthisblinktwice]

i cannot get back into bnha after 5 years the doomed yuri isn’t worth my sanity

[hairyjocktf]

A Full Dose of Country

Cody was exhausted. He was a star on the wrestling team at his university, but over winter break he’d been conscripted to be a helping hand on his uncle’s farm out in central Texas. After arguing for weeks with his very angry mother over the phone he’d submitted to spending his month off on the ranch. His mom had said that his uncle really needed the help for the season, and to put that athletic body of his to use. Cody rolled his eyes at that; he needed to be training for the next season. Instead he’d spent the past two weeks in the middle of nowhere helping out his uncle Shane, far from his friends and anything fun. Every day was long and exhausting. Cody thought he was in excellent shape but the long hours and excessive manual labor had started to wear on him quickly.

After putting some equipment away in the shed Cody trudged his way back into the small house, finding Shane slouched on the couch in front of the TV. He craned his neck around and gave Cody a quick up and down. 

“Damn son, you look rough today! You better get in bed early, we’ve got a hell of a task tomorrow,” he said. Cody’s shoulders slumped at the news.

“What could possibly be worse than what you’ve had me doing already?” He snapped. Shane was unfazed at the attitude.

“There’s some new bovine flu or something goin’ round. Heard it on the news the other day. I ordered some shots for the cattle to keep ‘em healthy, and I need you to help me get them all handled. Shouldn’t be a challenge for a hot shot like you right?” He snorted. Cody gave him a solemn look.

“Uh huh, sure.”

“I’m just messing with ya, y’know that,” Shane said with more sincerity. “Go on and get some sleep now boy,” he said as he shooed Cody off to his room.

Cody made his way down the dimly lit hallway to the small room he’d been staying in. He wasn’t the neatest guy on the planet but the state of his room was awful, but he’d been run too ragged to care. He pulled off his jeans and shirt and fell onto the bed, and within minutes he was out cold. 

The morning came abruptly with a banging on his door.

“Cody! Get dressed and out here we gotta start this operation early if we wanna finish today!” 

His uncle’s slightly muffled voice was still too loud for whatever hour it was. He threw on his hoodie and jeans from yesterday before making his way outside. The darkness was just starting to give way to dawn as he followed his uncle’s silhouette out towards the barn. The morning breeze was frigid, blowing through his hoodie like it was nothing. Cody shivered as he caught up to his uncle, who was setting up the chute for restraining the cattle. He stood there staring, in disbelief at what he was doing. His friends were partying in Cancun and he was up at 5 am herding cows?

“Well don’t just stand there, help me secure the pens!” His uncle’s bellowing voice snapped him out of his daze. Cody had unfortunately spent enough time on the ranch already to know what to do, and he got to work moving fences and prepping the area. By the time the sun had finally risen above the horizon they were ready. 

“Alright, now you’re gonna herd the cows in here one at a time, I’ll catch them in the chute, hit them with the needle gun, and let ‘em out into that second pen. Simple enough right?” Shane said, again with too much energy.

“Yea, sounds good.” Cody huffed, already feeling fatigued. He jogged back outside to start herding some of the cattle into the pens. He was surprised at how smoothly the entire operation was, within an hour they’d processed a dozen cattle. The problem now was getting the bigger ones in. Cody wasn’t normally afraid of a longhorn but in this situation he was tense, to put it lightly. Keeping his distance as much as possible, he slowly ushered the bull towards his uncle. As they neared their setup he had to get closer and more forceful, before finally spooking the animal into running into the chute. Shane slammed down the gates, holding the frantic bull inside the shaking apparatus.

“Cody!” Shane yelled over the racket, “Come hold this down so I can get a good shot!”

Cody hopped the fence and darted over to his uncle, holding the lever down against a raging bull. Shane was right next to him fiddling with the needle gun to refill it.

“Damn thing always jams at the worst times I swear…” he muttered before finally loading it properly. He squeezed up next to Cody to get close to the animal’s neck and leaned in to administer the shot. In that instant, the bull thrashed. Cody saw the massive horns swinging his direction and panicked, jerking to the side away from the head, directly into his uncle. They both toppled to the ground, and Cody felt a sharp pain in his abdomen. The bull knocked open the gates with no one to hold them down and dashed out into the pasture.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane said as he climbed to his feet, “You alright Cody?”

“Yea… I think so,” Cody mumbled as he stood up, feeling a pulsing pain in his gut. He lifted his shirt to find a small pinprick on his stomach surrounded by a reddened area.

“Aw shit, I must’ve hit you with the gun when we fell.” He walked over to Cody and kneeled down to look closely. “It’s a big needle for the cattle is all, you should be fine I think,” he said. Cody felt less than convinced. He scratched at the slightly itchy spot before letting his shirt down.

“C’mon, we’ve got plenty more cows to handle today. None of ‘em should be that aggressive again,” Shane said while inspecting the chute. Cody was a little shocked at how nonchalant his uncle was about what just happened. Cody headed back out to the pens to continue his job, but the slight itching on his stomach kept his mind divided. Surely nothing in a cow vaccine would be dangerous to a human right? They ate the cows in the end anyway, he thought with a slight chuckle.

Eventually the cows' persistent mooing brought them back to the present, and Cody’s thoughts slipped away from the earlier events. The work got his blood pumping, sending the vaccine’s contents all around his body. While the itch on his stomach finally subsided, a growing uncomfortable feeling was arising in his groin. The viral load had reached his balls, and while it was dormant for cows, the same couldn’t be said for Cody. It entered his cells and began making some changes down there. His balls began to swell, first to the size of walnuts before stretching his sack even more, plumping up to the size of large eggs. His newly enlarged testicles began to flood his body with more testosterone than ever before, laced with some bovine hormones.

His cock was the first to respond, twitching as it slowly grew hard, pressing against Cody’s compression underwear. His cock pulsed, head flaring as it stretched out, engorging to his full size of seven inches. Cody reached down to try and relieve some of the pressure, unaware of what was happening. He adjusted the band of his underwear, allowing more space for his cock to grow. And grow it did, pushing well past seven inches. The sensation of his throbbing member against his tight underwear was driving his body wild, even if he was distracted. His cock reached 11 inches, fully visible with a rock hard imprint in his underwear. Cody tried to adjust his growing package through his pants, oblivious to the situation below. As it capped out a glob of precum shot out of the tip, before the entire shaft thickened to a girth he could’ve only imagined before. A steady stream of precum began to flow afterward, creating an ever growing wet spot through his jeans. 

As Cody continued wrangling cattle, the steady stream of hormones from his massive balls continued to spread. An itch reappeared, but this time in his groin. He’d always kept himself clean shaven down there, but a slight shadow had appeared around the base of his cock. Clear cut hairs were starting to crop up again, a wave of short but dark stubble expanding outward. The hairs didn’t remain short for long, as his bush began to regrow with a vengeance. They pushed out of his skin, curling together as new hairs began to fill in between the old. The hairs pushed out longer and longer, weaving into a dense mat. The forest continued to spread, with thick hairs coating his low hanging balls and expanding out onto his thighs. The hairs began crawling up his lengthy shaft, covering the lower half in a furry sheath. Cody again scratched at his crotch, not noticing the dense growth from outside his jeans. As he finished up working for the day, hairs were slowly popping up further and further up, building a trail from his forested bush to his navel. The thick rug was pushing out against his compression underwear, slowly growing thicker as more hairs filled in.

Cody wiped the sweat from his forehead as his uncle was finally putting away the equipment from the day. He was more exhausted than he’d ever felt, and he didn’t believe he’d ever say that after enduring countless grueling wrestling training sessions with his coach. Thinking on them, he found it harder to recall those experiences despite his muscles aching, but he chalked it up to the brutal day he’d had. The sun was already below the horizon by the time they got back to the house. Cody figured he’d take a shower while Shane was throwing some kind of dinner together, and headed back to his room. He pulled off his hoodie and sweat-soaked shirt, revealing the crawling vine of dark hair making its way up his abs.

“What the fuck?” Cody blurted out in shock. He ran his fingers through the wiry curls exposed above his waistline. He quickly undid his belt and jeans and stuck his hand down in his underwear, deep into the lush sweaty forest that’d been absent when he pulled on his pants that morning. His jaw dropped. What the hell was happening here? He pushed his hand farther in only to find his now massive cock, and his eyes went wide. He darted into the bathroom and yanked down his underwear. In the mirror fully exposed was his flaccid nine inch cock, drooped in front of his comically large balls, all buried within the thickest bush he’d ever seen. Cody delicately handled his dangling member, and the slightest touch had it growing hard, leaking precum from the tip. He was stunned, standing there with precum spilling over one hand and the other buried in the thicket of hair.

As he stood there staring, the virus reached his brain. His panicked face slowly morphed into a grin. This was kinda hot, he thought. Who doesn’t love a massive dick, right? Cody began to rub his hands through the thick tangle of hair, feeling the curls catch around his fingers. His cock throbbed as it grew hard, reaching its full size. He grabbed it with his other hand, feeling the softer hairs that were poking out of his shaft. Cody, overcome with pleasure, let himself go. He stroked with one hand and explored his furry groin with the other. Within a minute he was ready to climax, grunting as he shot thick ropes onto the mirror. 

“Fuck,” he groaned, senses returning. He collapsed back onto the toilet behind, taking a moment to catch his breath before cleaning up his mess.

“Cody! Dinner’s on the table!” His uncle shouted from the kitchen. Cleaning would have to wait. Cody stuffed his still partially hard cock back into his tight underwear and threw on the rest of his clothes before heading out. He still had a grin plastered on his face, and Shane noticed.

“What’s got you in good spirits now, boy?”

“Aw nothin’ just proud of a good day’s work” Cody replied, suddenly caught off guard with his manner of speaking. That voice was his but didn’t sound like him, it was almost… country. No, he’d always spoken like that, he was from Texas after all. The smell of the sizzling food on the table grabbed his attention and he swiftly forgot about his concern. He scarfed the meal down, his body subconsciously needing the fuel. He suppressed a large belch before standing up, thanking Shane for the food, and heading back to his bed. Cody stripped off his shirt and jeans before flopping down onto the mattress, exhausted and stuffed. 

As he laid there, twirling his new pubes between his fingers, he let his thoughts drift back to his friends from school off on their vacations. He wasn’t as jealous anymore. In fact, maybe he was on the better end of that deal. All this manual labor was keeping him in shape for the season; getting drunk daily on the beach wouldn’t do that! His cock began to chub up at the thought of him finally putting on the mass to be at the top of his weight class. Precum leaked down his shaft and into his musky forest as Cody drifted off.

Cody woke in a sweat to a familiar banging on his door. He peeled himself off the sheets, looking at the vaguely body shaped sweat pool he’d left. He himself was also soaked. Then the  smell hit him, a musky sweaty stench had filled the room throughout the night. Cody was confused, he’d never sweat like this, not even after his gym sessions, it wasn’t even hot inside the house. He looked down at himself to see drops slowly streaming down his chest and stomach, which had grown slightly more covered with hair. He thoughtlessly scratched at his chin, fingers raking through small bristles that hadn’t been there before. With no time to ponder more he threw on some jeans and a tank top and ran out towards the barn.

Cody and Shane quickly got to work on the day’s tasks, eager to get as much done as possible before the sun got too harsh. Cody found it easier to get into what he was doing, it felt more natural somehow. As he worked up even more of a sweat than he’d woken up with, the combination of virus and testosterone got pumped around his body at an accelerated rate. The bristles on his chin began to poke out a little more; a shadow of stubble spread across his jaw and up onto his cheeks. Cody scratched at the growing stubble, not noticing the difference from his baby smooth physique before.

That smooth skin was quickly becoming a memory, as his upper lip was covered by the same shadow, dark spots turning into short hairs that pushed out longer and longer. The wiry hairs sprouting from his face grew thicker by the minute, new wisps shooting out between the maturing hairs. He’d grown into a scruffier version of himself, the shadow of stubble creeping down his neck as the hairs on his chin, upper lip, and cheeks fluffed out more.

As he worked, Cody’s arms pumped up more than usual and his legs following suit. His already well defined pecs began to feel sore as they pushed out, stretching his tank even more than usual. What had been rolling hills turned into mountains as muscle packed on. The soreness was quickly replaced with a subtle itch; the tendril of thick curls reaching up from his groin began to climb higher. Hairs shot up north of his navel, growing in a line up towards his beefier chest. His collarbone was the first to react to the cocktail of hormones surging inside him. A lone dark hair shot up over the collar of his tank. Another curled out, and then another. Wispy hairs began to crop up along the top of his chest, cresting over the neck of his tank. The beads of sweat covering his chest only seemed to fertilize more growth, matting the hairs to his skin in swirls and spirals of masculinity. Before long a rug had begun to form on his chest, hairs pushing out and puffing up his tank as it struggled against his growing body.

By mid afternoon, they’d finished everything for the day. Cody’s sudden burst of work ethic surprised Shane, who didn’t seem to notice his nephew’s burgeoning beard. Cody could feel the pump in his body, it was sore but he felt electric after working all morning.

“Whew, that went smoother than I ever figured,” Shane laughed and slapped Cody on the back. “Why don’t we enjoy a beer and take the rest of the day off.”

“Can’t say no to that I s’pose,” Cody responded with a smile. The two walked back to the house and settled out on the back porch. Shane grabbed some beers from inside and tossed one to Cody.

“Seems like you’re getting the hang of all this work around here, son. I could use a hand like yours more often!” Shane howled and cracked open his can. 

“Well, y’know, I guess I’m startin’ to enjoy it all a bit. Somethin’ about it out here makes me wanna stay,” Cody said with a heavier accent than even his uncle. Shane smiled back at him. The two chatted with a better rapport than ever as Cody downed his beer, and then another, and then two more.

His stomach gurgled as more hair spread across his stomach, fully burying his abs under a dark coat of hair. The line reached up to his chest widened, small fuzzy hairs spreading out before thickening up. Cody’s sweat covered chest followed suit. In the cleft between his pecs, hairs pressed their way out, spreading outwards as they grew in denser and darker and caught more sweat. What had been light fuzz across the wide expanse of his muscular form was corrupted by testosterone, follicles going into overdrive pushing out thicker darker hairs. The rug spread out around his nipples and upwards, merging with the hairs covering his collarbone as more continued to pop up towards his shoulders and up his neck. 

Cody was in the middle of downing another beer when a rank stench filled his nose. It was familiar, almost like the one from when he’d woken up. He lifted his arm and was greeted with a faceful of powerful body odor; his pits had become ripe and full of hours worth of sweat. He watched as the carefully shaven skin tinted dark as hairs sprouted en masse. It seemed like a waterfall in slow motion, watching the dark hairs pour out of his pit, growing longer and longer as they trapped more sweat in his damp pit. The growth spread, hairs pushing beyond the edges of his pits and growing the forest larger until it blended with the rug on his chest. His other pit itched as the same growth began to take place, a thick tuft of hair erupting. He could feel the wiry hairs pushing out between his arm and torso, growing bushier and escaping the bounds of his underarm. 

He should’ve been shocked, alarmed, panicked, anything of the sort, but instead he just stuck his hand into the damp jungle to scratch it. His fingers dug into the thick forest, digging deep to get at the sweaty skin below. Upon pulling his hand out he automatically sniffed it, as if he’d done so for a lifetime. The aroma filled his nose, the ripe stench causing his cock to shoot out a spurt of precum. The virus had gotten its foothold, altered his thinking enough to not only be nearly unaware of the changes, but to be aroused by them, to desire them. He leaned back in the chair, lifting his arms behind his head and exposing his hairy matted pits to the world.

The chair groaned under Cody as his body slowly swelled, muscles growing larger and thicker. His back popped as it grew wider, shoulders broadening as his traps and delts exploded with size. His tank top, already at its limit, began to tear at the sides where his lats were widening. Cody scratched at a slight itch on his shoulder, not thinking much of it, but the dusting of hairs on his shoulders had begun to spread, new curls cropping up all over. The wave of fur stretched from his forested chest up over his collarbone to his traps and shoulders before starting its descent. The itch crept down towards his shoulder blades as thin hairs pushed out, quickly growing from fuzz into fur. It almost looked like Cody was developing wings made of hair, as the patches knit together, creeping towards his spine to join into one hairy coat. The bristles continued working down, sprouting into thick stands that tangled together as they pushed out, growing denser as testosterone drenched each and every follicle. The burgeoning trail of hair reached his waistband, where it exploded into a sweaty tuft just above his ass. The hairs continued to fill in until his entire back was coated, a sweat-matted rug that was even curling around his sides to connect with the field of hair on his stomach. 

Cody shifted in his seat, trying to shake an uncomfortable feeling growing down in his underwear. His ass had been filling out all day, stretching his underwear to its limit, but this was different. Deep between his cheeks, thick hairs were slowly pushing out around his hole. They grew dark and wiry, tickling him as they squeezed between his massive cheeks. More hairs began to press out, surrounding his hole before spreading outwards. The shadow of loaded follicles crept over both his cheeks, and shortly after the hairs burst forth in a wave, pushing against his tight underwear as his ass disappeared beneath the growing fur. The hair continued to spread, connecting to his furry back and to his jungle of pubes which similarly thickened even more.

Cody reached down to scratch at his crotch, and paused for a moment after seeing his hand. It was much thicker than it’d been, with rough, calloused palms and thick sausages for fingers. He flipped it over and watched as a thick dark hair wormed out of his knuckle, followed by another, and in seconds there were dark tufts of hair popping up across his hand. The hairs crawled up towards his forearm, where his once soft dusting of wispy brown hairs was overrun by new dense growth. The hairs pushed out long and wove together into a puffy forest that climbed up his arm, the growth not petering out in the slightest. His beefy triceps vanished beneath the growing fur as it reached towards the thick hairs on his shoulders.

He watched the hairs overtake his once smooth and tanned skin but, rather than alarm. all Cody felt was arousal, with his cock chubbing up in his pants. He was half tempted to use that newly hairy hand to grab it, but he restrained himself. Not in front of Shane, it could wait. The sun had started to set, and as if on cue his uncle spoke up.

“Welp, better get workin’ on some supper,” he said, hoisting himself out of his chair. He left Cody out on the patio, finally giving his nephew a quiet moment to himself. Cody gazed out over the pastures, glowing in shades of orange and gold from the sunset. He could get used to it out here, he thought to himself. The desire to get back to wrestling with his team had slipped even further, he’d barely mentioned them during his and Shane’s multi-hour banter. The virus had been multiplying in his head, suppressing those neural connections in favor of those made recently on the ranch. He wanted to stay here on the ranch with the cattle, giving the virus more chance to spread to others. It would do anything to make that a reality.

Cody watched the sun slip below the horizon and headed back to his room. He tried to pull off his tank but instead it shredded, unable to cope with his massive body. He laid down on the bed, feeling the thick hairs on his back rub against the sheets. It was an electric feeling, and very quickly the bulge down there had doubled in size from the sensation. He brought one hand up to the dense rug of hair on his chest, not questioning how it’d grown since the morning, raking his fingers through the wiry swirls of hair. It felt amazing. A wet spot appeared on his jeans and grew as he stroked the thick chest hairs, before he stripped off his pants and underwear to free his fully erect cock from confinement, dribbling precum down its side.

His other hand he brought up to his face, feeling the fluffy growth. It was lighter than the rest of his new growth, but as he scratched at his cheeks he could feel new hairs poking out. The hairs grew in thicker and denser, his beard filling in as skin vanished underneath. The follicles continued to pump out hair after hair, thicker and darker than before as hormones completed his change. The beard hairs pushed out longer and longer, tangling into a solid block of hair that hid his face and neck as it grew down. The bristles poked out higher up on his cheeks, claiming as much of his face as they could. Cody was in ecstasy, feeling his beard come in around his fingers. His cock pulsed without him even needing to touch it, the testosterone coursing through his body thickening all the hairs into a seamless pelt. 

He loved his new body, his new fur, and he had to make it permanent. The virus guiding him, he reached down to his cock, his grip not even enough to surround the girth, and pumped it once up and down. With just that, Cody moaned in a newly gruff voice as he climaxed, his cock erupting with a geyser of cum. Rope after rope of thick cum landed all over his body, getting stuck in the forest of hair engulfing him. As the last load dribbled out of the tip his body relaxed, so did his old life of college and wrestling. Cody laid there, plastered with his own load as waves of pleasure echoed through his body. This was the life, he thought, still rubbing his hands through his cum soaked fur. 

Cody managed to clean himself up a bit by the time Shane called from the kitchen. He sat across from his uncle at the table while they ate, resuming the banter from earlier. At the end of the meal Cody finally decided it was time.

“Y’know Shane, I think I’d like to stick around for good.”

This story is my submission to @occamstfs 2000 follower writing challenge. Definitely my longest one yet, thanks everyone for reading to the end! I hope y'all enjoyed it, and thanks to Occam himself for the motivation, inspiration, and editing he did!

[reiderwriter]

♡ Girls Just Wanna Have Fun ♡

Week 5 of my Playlist Series ♡

Summary: Spencer isn't used to clubs, but when duty calls, he's made to feel a little bit more welcome by a girl who seems to know him better than a stranger should.

Warnings: Smut 18+ Minors DNI!! Hotchner!Reader (Reader is Hotch's sister), semi-public sex (x2 oops), oral sex (m receiving), fingering, dry humping, hand job, cum play, dirty talk, degradation and name calling (slut only), use of daddy/sir even though this is like solidly season 1 Spencer lmao, corruption kink, loss of virginity (surprisingly the readers)

A/N: Every single intrusive thought I've ever had about s1 Reid tied up in a nice little bow masquerading as a song fic. It is finished, and now I feel flushed. Please expect only fluff from me until my next intrusive thought (maybe half an hour, probably no longer).

Masterlist || Spotify Playlist

Flashing lights and the scent of dried up alcohol stains weren't usually signs of Spencer Reid's presence. He'd managed to get through college - two degrees and three PhDs - without stepping foot into a nightclub. But now that he'd joined the BAU, it seemed to be an unavoidable occurrence. 

“The unsub hunts at this nightclub, I get that, I do. But why am I the one going in? He's targeting women,” he panicked as his older team member helped adjust his clothes to conceal the weapon he carried. 

“Because, pretty boy, it's student night, and you're the only one here who can pass for a 21 year old. I guess late puberty has some benefits.” Derek smacked his arm playfully, leaving the younger man wincing slightly. 

“But I'm not a woman.” 

“Yes, but you'll be able to walk around and note any suspicious behaviour, and then we can tail suspects you flag,” Hotch explained to him again. 

“Just act natural, kid, it's not like it's your first time in a club.” 

“It is.” His warnings fell on deaf ears though, as they pushed him out of the van and into the crowd of students queueing to enter. 

It didn't take you long to notice him after you arrived at the club.

The sweater vest was enough to make him stand apart slightly, as much as he was trying his best to blend in. A slight tingle of familiarity raced up your spine as his eyes awkwardly met yours, his scan of the room stopping short as he flushed and turned his eyes down. 

Pushing slightly to the crowd, you leaned over the counter next to him and tried to get the bartenders attention. It was loud and busy, but catching attention and keeping it was a skill you'd mastered early, a skill that you were thankful for as you realised the man's eyes were guiltily flicking between your ass and the crowd once again. 

“Are you going to stare, or are you going to introduce yourself,” you giggled, sliding closer to his perch at the bar, as he panicked, standing straighter. 

“I wasn't, um… your dress, there's a rip at the edge of your skirt, I was trying to figure out if it was part of the design because I know some clothes these days have damage built into the design, or if it was in need of some emergency… sewing.” His hands gesticulating awkwardly throughout his explanation, as if anxious to show you the jumble in his brain was entirely pure and innocent, even as the flush on his face said otherwise. 

“And your name is?” 

“I-.... Spencer. My name is Spencer.” 

You stood a little straighter hearing the name, that familiarity warming you more. Spencer. Spencer. Spencer. You turned the name over in your head but took another step closer as the crowd shifted in a wave, feeling the heat coming off his body. 

“Well, Spencer,” your tongue made the decision to act for your brain, the words coming out before you could stop them. “What conclusion did you draw? Do you think the rip was intentional or not?” 

Gently, you grabbed his hand and led it to the fabric. The skirt wasn't scandalously short, but short enough to suit the dark heated atmosphere of the club at least, but as his fingers grazed the back of your thighs, still hesitant in his actions, you found yourself wishing it were just that bit higher, so his hands would have to reach further up. 

With a gaze over your shoulder at the crowd, Spencer found himself at an impass. He'd already noted a few people of interest, loiterers, men getting a bit rough and aggressive in the club, people on the outskirts (like him, he supposed) that could possibly be their unsub. 

He'd been given the all clear to disengage and leave the club as effortlessly as he could  bit something in your initial gaze had pinned him to place at the bar, and refused still to let him see reason. 

“I think it's a design feature. To draw attention to…” he swallowed hard, but you weren't sure if he was just being delicate about his words or if he was reacting to the hand that was now on him, dragging nails up from his abdomen to his chest. 

“Good observation, Spencer.” 

“Your name. You didn't tell me what your name was.” He said, grabbing your hand to stop its progress and breathing deeply as if to clear his head. 

“Y/N. We should dance.” Without giving him time to react, you abandoned your drink on the counter and pulled his arm around your waist, dragging him out to the crush of people in the middle of the dance floor. 

His protests were lost in the pulse of the music, as you kept your back to him and began grinding and swaying against him. His hands tightened on your hips as he gently started moving with you, and you threw your head back to catch his eye again. 

Spencer didn't know what he'd gotten himself into. He knew that very little actually dancing actually went on at a club, that this was just a more polite socially acceptable form of foreplay, but he didn't know that it would have such an effect on him. 

A mess of sweaty, intoxicated people spilling drinks and other fluids, and he thought he'd stay there forever if it kept your hips torturing his cock like that. 

When you glanced up at him, he was a man lost to his senses, lust clouding his eyes, mouth slightly open in a pant, you reached up to his neck and pulled his lips down to meet yours. 

You were surprised when it was his to guess to reach out first, his hand that trailed under your shirt without tours guiding it. You'd picked up a fairly innocent man at the bar and turned him into a pervert in the space of one dance. It felt like the club was watching you, how his hands grazed the skin under your breasts and caused the shiver up your spine, how your back arched to press deeper against his election. 

You may have tempted him into taking this risk, but he was the one gleefully nosediving into his fall from grace. 

“Spencer,” you whispered as he came up for air, lips resting at your ear. “I think we should get some fresh air.” 

Something in that seemed logical. It was colder outside. Maybe it would cool off whatever had lit him up like a pyre on the dance floor. Maybe the fresh air would clear his head. Or maybe just the open space would help him detangle his hands from you, would lead his thoughts away from burying himself deep in you. 

He would gladly take you outside, bid you farewell, and return to his job and his life. It was a solid exit for his first cover - who was going to question the young lovers leaving together. 

You had a feeling that the idea of outside would have Spencer pulling away from you, but you hadn't had your fill of fun just yet. 

So just as you led him onto the dancefloor, you kept a hand over his, around your waist, and you guided him out of the club, down the street a few paces, and into a darkened alleyway. 

“Y/N, we shouldn't be-” he tried to stutter out as you pulled him in for another kiss. His brain was trying to protest, but his hands were already back on your ass, pulling you up and closer to him. 

“What was that?” You said between kisses, his mouth launching an assault against each inch of your skin. 

He gasped for breath and pulled back, realising that he'd lifted and pinned you to the cold brick wall of the alley in his haste to feel you pressed against him. 

“Y/N… I don't want to take advantage of you, I'm not-” 

“I'm taking advantage of you, Spencer,” you said, nipping at his neck slowly raking your hands into his shoulders. “Am I allowed to do that? Can I take all of you, Spencer?” 

His eyes rolled back in his head as he let put a groan of pleasure, your lips sucking at the tender flesh of his nape. 

“I-I'm not a student, and-” 

“I know, but you are such a pretty boy that I decided I wanted to have some fun with you.” 

His resolve broke in half as you uttered your compliments, and his lips met yours in a moan as his hands pushed your skirt up around your waist. 

His finger trailed between your hips and his, using the wall to balance you as he pushed aside your panties and began slowly stroking your sex. 

Your hips pitched forward to press more of his slender fingers against you,  desperate to feel him stretch your cunt open first with one, then two, then however many he decided was good enough for you. 

Leaving one hand on his shoulder, you let one trail down his pants, stepping one foot down to allow you access to his zipper. 

He pauses Again for a second as you manage to get his pants open, your hand pulling his cock free from the constraint of his clothing. Spitting on your hand, you wrap around it firmly and slowly pump up and down, looking him directly in the eye as you watch the pleasure pour over him. 

His forehead rests against yours as he melts into your touch, so desperate, needing to cum so badly that he's willing to let it happen in this dark dirty alley. 

“Spencer, I want to have a lot of fun with you. Will you let me?” 

“Yes, fuck Y/N.” He nods, his hips rocking into your hand with each slow stroke you give him. 

“Spencer,” you say, rocking your hips forward and pushing your panties further to the side once again. “Spencer, please fuck me. Take my virginity, Spencer, please.” 

His mind whirled at the sentence, the pleas dropping from your lips. Virginity. You were a virgin. 

You'd had him cock stiff after three minutes of conversation  had pulled him into an alleyway and lost him in a fog of pleasure, and you were still innocent. Untouched. 

You wanted to have your fun with him. You'd chosen him. 

He couldn't articulate the lust that coated his tongue, so he simply pushed it into your mouth  grabbed his cock from your hands, lined himself up with your drippy cunt and pushed in with a single thrust. 

You gasped and let out a moan, not quite fully pleasurable. Your hands again found his shouldend, his back, but your nails were sharper this time, digging in further, almost piercing skin. 

“Fuck, Spencer, yes,” you said, breathing shakily as you slowly started moving around his cock. 

“Did it hurt?” 

“It doesn't hurt anymore. Now, please Spencer, fuck me and don't hold back. It's more fun that way.” 

He pulled your hips closer, moaning as you tightened around him. Pressing one hand against the wall and keeping another hand gripped so hard around your hip you knew it'd bruise, he began moving. 

He began slow, trying not to lose himself in the feel of your unused, tight hole. But with each small moan, each scratch against his back, he lost a little bit more of that control he was begging for. 

With his hands engaged, his brows furrowed I'm frustration that he couldn't stroke your bundle of nerves, he couldn't force you to cum on his cock as quickly as he wanted to. 

“Y/N, look at me.” You opened your eyes at the words, unaware that they'd closed tight as you emptied all other senses to just feel him. 

“Touch yourself. Right there, that's it,” he watched your fingers rub delicately against your skin, spoke little words of encouragement, and told you to increase your speed and pleasure. 

“That's it. That's it, now it's time for you to cum, Y/N. Cum on my cock, rub your little clit for me and cum around my big cock, Y/N.” 

“Shit… shit, shit, shit, Spencer, oh my god.” Your hands shook, and your hips twitched, and with a cry, you reached that high you'd been craving since you met his eyes earlier. 

He pulled out of you, slowly pulling you off the wall, as he held you up, letting your legs regain their strength. His cock was still hard, still coated in your arousal as he took care of you. 

You caught your breath fast, regained tour strength quicker as you noticed he didn't plan on getting himself off anymore. He let you have your fun with him and was happy to end it all there. 

You weren't. 

“Spencer,” you sang again, wrapping a hand once again around his erection as he tried to straighten out your now slightly more ripped skirt. “Spencer, it's more fun of we both cum. I want you to make a mess of my hand, can you do that for me?” 

You stroked his cock with a firmer grip than before, your arousal lubricating each stroke, his pre-cum mingling with it to aid you further. You suddenly wondered what he would taste like, but knew your legs would be too weak to do everything your heart desired today. 

There was always tomorrow. 

He leaned his weight back on the wall behind you, forcing you back as well as you pumped him quickly so desperate to hear him moan your name as he spilt his seed. 

“Y/N,” he moaned, and you were triumphant. His hips jerked once, then twice, then a third time, and he stilled, heaving breaths as he buried his head in your shoulder. 

He swallowed and regained his breath, and as he pulled away, you pulled your fingers to your lips and lapped up the final drops of cum that he left there. 

Most of it had his the wall, dripped to the floor, but you enjoyed these few drops and smiled brightly at him, pulling a handkerchief that you knew would be in his pocket out and cleaning the two of you up. 

He flushed again as he came back to his senses, especially as you attempted to put his clothed to rights, stepping back to replace his softening cock in his pants.

“Well,” you said after setting yourself to rights, “Thank you for the fun night, Spencer. See you tomorrow.” 

You skipped off quickly before he had a second to even process your words. 

The next day at the local precinct was a blur for Spencer as he tried to drag himself from the drug induced haze of meeting you. He'd stroked himself to completion two more times in bed after he returned to his motel room, reliving the sound of you begging him to take you, the words ‘pretty boy’ on your lips as you spread your legs. 

It'd taken his entire brain, or what was left of it, to not jump out of his skin every time Morgan had teased him with the words that morning.

“Now how did you like your first club experience, pretty boy? Did any college cuties throw themselves at you?” 

He spat up his coffee, choosing that moment to choke, and begging god for this to just be the end of Spencer Reid entirely. 

Because there was no way Morgan would actually believe that that was exactly what had happened. 

“Morgan, Gideon wants you in the interrogation room, and- wow, Spencer, you should change your shirt. What are you, 5? You can't drink coffee properly?” Elle said, chuckling slightly.

“I choked,” he frowned, but it fell on deaf ears as his teammates walked away quickly to get back to their jobs. 

He wished he could recover so quickly, even now the image of you having your fun with him the night before playing like a movie in his head. 

Looking down, he realised Elle was right, and he really did need to change his shirt. Hotch always had a few spare on hand, even for cases out of the office. He grabbed some tissues, dabbing against the mess of coffee on his shirt, suddenly thankful for lukewarm police precinct coffee, and started making his way towards Hotch. 

“Hey, Hotch-” he made it three steps before your voice cried out. 

“Ronnie!!” You shouted, throwing your hands around your elder brother as he caught you in a hug. 

“Y/N, we're at a police station. If you're going to come see me, you have to at least call me Aaron.” 

“And not take the chance to embarrass you in front of your peers and coworkers? Not a chance, Ronnie. Not a chance.” He chuckled fondly, brushing away his complaints quickly as he turned to introduce you to JJ first, then Elle and then the frozen statue that had replaced Spencer. 

“And, Y/N, this is Dr. Spencer Reid. Spencer, this is my sister, Y/N. She's a student at the university.” 

You held out your hand with a triumphant grin as Spencer stared in wide-eyed horror at the apparition in front of him. 

“Hello, Spencer. It's very nice to finally meet you. My brother has told me a lot about you, and I'm very excited to pick your brains.” 

The air seemed to explode around Spencer as each breath became deliriously hot, filling his lungs with fire. It was moments before he realised that he wasn't actually breathing at all, and the air was actually quite normal. 

Your hand remained out, ready to greet him, and to the surprise of his coworkers, he took it in his for a short shake. 

“Y/N. Hotch's sister, Y/N. Nice to meet you, Y/N Hotchner, Hotch's sister.” 

He could practically hear the audible sound of Elle and JJ smacking a hand against their faces in horror at his stupidly obvious reaction to the woman in front of him. If he wasn't careful, he'd be spouting confessions of desire soon, and knowing that Aaron Hotchner carried two guns on his person even now did nothing to calm his thoughts. 

“Okay, well, Y/N, I'm busy with some interrogations now, but I can drive you back to your apartment in half an hour if you're okay to wait with JJ?” 

“Are you busy, Spencer?” You asked instead, keeping her eyes locked on the man who still weakly shook her hand, unaware of when the right time to stop would be. 

“I was serious when I said I wanted to pick your brain, my brother said you had a PhD in Engineering and I'm struggling through a class right now that I need some guidance in if you can spare five minutes?” 

Spencer stared between Hotch and you, looking for the right answer to please present itself before he imploded right there. 

“Yes. PhD, I have a PhD. Three actually, but whose counting? Me. I just counted them. One of them is in mathematics, actually, so I guess I'm always counting.” He finally dropped your hand, and you gave him a wider smile that dropped his heart to his stomach. “I am free, unless you needed me for something else, Hotch?” 

His gaze was pleading, though he wasn't sure if he was begging for his life, five more minutes alone with you or the power to extricate himself from this situation entirely, but Hotch nodded his acceptance quickly and let you lead Spencer off to the small, empty visitors room at the opposite side of the precinct. 

You shut the door behind you when you walked in, leaning over to close the blinds as well before you turned back to Spencer. 

“Your shirt is wet. You should probably take it off,” you giggled as you trailed a hand up his arm once again. 

His hand grabbed yours before you could do any more damage to his tender nerves than you'd already managed that morning. 

“You knew the entire time? Who I was?” 

“I walked over because you seemed familiar, but I only figured it out when you said your name. My brother does talk about you a lot.”

“Hotch is going to kill me,” he said, slumping down into the chair behind him. “Y/N, your brother was outside the club. He could've seen us leave.” 

You climbed into his lap, and his eyes finally met yours again, his tongue stopping its hopeless tirade as you relaxed into his chest. 

“I have two older brothers, Spencer. Do you know how often they've been able to tell me what to do?” Your hands started down his shirt, making quick work of the buttons as he stared up, enthralled. 

“Not once have they been able to stop me from doing something I wanted.” 

He scoffed quickly, unable to help himself. Your hands gripped either side of his face and lifted his head to meet your gaze again. 

“And right now, Spencer, I really want you.” A roll of your hips was enough to have him hissing and grabbing your hips. You started steadily rocking into him, eyes still locked with his. 

“Y/N, please let's be sensible.” 

“I don't want to be sensible, I want to have fun. I want to suck your dick right here, and let you cum in my mouth. I want to scream your name and let everyone know who is giving me pleasure. Can't I do that, Spencer?” 

“No,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as you dry humped him, trying to get yourself off on his lap, his.cock rising with each of your quiet moans. 

“Spencer, please. I want your big, hard cock back inside me. Please, please, please. I'll be a good girl, I promise.” 

His eyes shot open in incredulity as he watched you use his body as you saw fit. 

“Good girls don't lose their virginities in alleyways, Y/N. Good girls don't throw themselves at their brothers' coworkers. Good girls listen when they're told no, and don't try to suck cock in public, like little sluts.” He spat each word at you, bit you enjoyed each insult he hurled your way, enjoyed the way his body recoiled as he finally called you a slut. 

He seemed slightly shocked by his anger himself, but you didn't seem to care. It took you only seconds after to push your lips against his again and have your hands on his cock once again, pulling him out of his pants as his hands explored you just as eagerly. 

“Yeah, Spencer, your little slut. I'm such a little slut for you, please fuck me.” 

He buried a hand in your hair, tipping your head back so his tongue could probe deeper, his other hand already under your shirt and teasing one nipple. You lifted your hips and sunk down onto his cock, neither of you stopping to think again about your actions as you began to rode him. 

“30 minutes, Y/N, by now we have 24 minutes and 17 seconds. Can you manage that, Y/N?” 

“Yes, sir.” You said, feeling his dick twitch as you rode him. “Oh did you like that? You liked me calling you, sir?” His hips pressed up again, his body answering more honestly than his tongue. 

“What else can I call you? Spencer… sir….daddy?” 

He broke away from his place buried in your neck to push the two of you down to the floor, the new angle had you gasping as a hand covered your mouth stifling any screams you could make before you made them. 

“Be quiet and cum on my cock, Y/N,” he whispered and picked up his pace, one hand gagging you while the other pulled painfully at your nipple, pinching it between two hands and using it to lift your entire chest so your body was arched toward him, letting him go deeper. 

“Yes, Daddy,” you whispered again, against his fingers, tempted to wrap your lips around one and suck it into your mouth. 

“Fuck, just call me Spencer, Y/N.” 

But you couldn't respond, suddenly overcome with the numbness of you orgasm washing over you as you bit back a choked cry. 

“That's it, good job, Y/N. You listen so well, good job.” He rubbed soothing circles into your chest as his hips slowed, working you through your orgasm as he withdrew once again. 

This time though, he didn't try to pull away and leave himself hard, but sat himself up, and lifted you once again too, putting slight pressure at the back of your head until you were on your knees and letting your head fall down, down, down as your lips wrapped around his wet cock. 

You took him in your mouth, and tasted the bitter, salty flavor of your illicit activities, lapping every last bit of your joint pleasure up as he pushed your hair up and down his cock. 

It didn't take long for his hips to press up into your mouth slightly harder than before, his hands holding you steady as he came down your throat. He held your head there for a minute two, as you tried your best to breathe and stay there, taking as much of his cum down your throat as you could. He pulled your head off him and you swallowed the rest, smiling brightly at him as you did so. 

“Thank you for the fun, Spencer,” You said again, grabbing your phone and checking the time. 

Standing up, you pulled your clothes back in place, pulling your skirt down and your panties up, smoothing out the tangles in your hair. 

“Let me go get you that spare shirt, Doctor Reid,” you said, opening the door. “I'm very grateful for your help with my class load, sir.” 

His head fell back into his hands as you closed the door, leaving him to wonder just what the hell he'd got himself in for. 

[burymeinblack13]

There’s a lot wrong with season 4 of The Umbrella Academy but I also wish there was more of an emphasis on the fact that the umbrellas LITERALLY LOST THEIR POWERS?!?

FOR 5 YEARS?!?

I wanna know more about that. How does that affect them?

I mean does luther find himself with more scrapes and bruises? He tries to pick up a couch and throws his back out because he can’t lift it

Does diego find himself more clumsy? He’s bumping into things more. Grace plays catch with him and he misses every throw

Alison hears someone playfully tell her that ‘they heard a rumour that there’s a new casting call’ and he blood runs cold

Does Klaus start off as the same adrenaline junkie? Until he gets more sick than he’s ever been, his body can’t handle everything in his system, when he truly realises his mortality. But then he realised the ghosts are gone.

Five comes to the realisation that he’s just a boy. His 60-odd aged mind even more trapped than it ever was. Is this the retirement he was wanting or is he now more on edge for the next earth shattering event?

(Sparrow) Ben is truly alone. His powers being the only thing left of what family he had and it’s gone. He’s surrounded by people who only know him through the lens of someone he isn’t.

And Viktor is ordinary. Again. Is he pleased with it? Does he still harbour some resentment? He moves to get a fresh start but he really can’t seem to start it with anyone. Is he emotionally distant-I mean quite literally every relationship he’s been in manages to get fucked up. Maybe he doesn’t even realise that he’s being cold?

I wish the show did more to show the long-standing effect of the loss of the powers that are apart of them!!

[sturnioloskyline]

flu season

pairing: matt sturniolo x fem!reader

warnings: illness, crying, language, sickening fluff(get it?)

summary: you get the flu and don’t tell matt, so he gets worried takes things into his own hands

being sick sucks. no one knew that bettter than y/n, who was currently buried under blankets on her couch in her apartment in la. this morning she woke up sweating with a pounding headache and an inability to breathe through the congestion in her nose.

she called in sick to work and stayed in bed until noon before mustering up enough strength to get up and make a cup of ramen noodles. she then settled to watch a movie on the couch, where she ended up falling asleep.

not far away, matt nervously chewed on the skin in his cheek as he stared at his phone. he had sent 5 texts to his girlfriend today, none of them having received a response.

matt knew this meant something was wrong, because usually y/n would text him a sweet “good morning” the second she started her day. they weren’t fighting, at least that matt knew of, so of course matt was sent into a anxious spiral over the lack of responses from his girlfriend.

finally, matt ripped his eyes away from the screen, walking over to the kitchen where his two brothers were standing, giggling to each other. matt ignored them and grabbed his car keys from the counter, immediately catching the other triplets’ attention.

“matt, where are you going?” chris whined.

“y/n’s.” matt quickly replied, stuffing the keys into his pocket and heading for the garage. chris and nick immediately looked to each other in worry at the expression on their brother’s face.

“is everything okay?” nick asked matt cautiously.

“i don’t know, she isn’t responding to any of my texts,” matt rambled, putting on his shoes. “i’m just gonna go make sure she’s okay.”

matt rushed out the door before his brothers could say anything else. he got in his car and began driving over to y/n’s place. he chewed on his lip nervously as he drove, his anxiety only growing the longer he didn’t hear from y/n.

after what seemed like hours, matt parked outside y/n’s apartment building and made his way home to her front door. he rang the doorbell immediately and stepped back to wait for her.

inside the apartment, y/n jolted awake at the sound of her doorbell ringing. her head was throbbing in pain, her throat was scratchy, and the air in her living room felt ten times colder than it was when she fell asleep. she got up from her nest on the couch and shivered, grabbing one of the blankets and wrapping it around herself.

the doorbell rang again, creating a sense of urgency as y/n tried to compose herself somewhat for whoever could be ringing her doorbell and disrupting her afternoon. she struggled to the door, messing with the lock weakly before finally swinging the door open.

“y/n,” matt sighed in relief immediately as y/n opened the door.

“matt?” y/n croaked out in shock. heat rose to her cheeks. she hadn’t invited matt over, and was unprepared for him to see her. matt and y/n had only been dating for a while, and she had never been sick around her ever. “what are you doing here?”

“i needed to see if you were okay. are you okay?” matt asked, his face scrunching slightly with worry once again as his eyes scanned over y/n’s pale face.

y/n didn’t know if it was the shock of her boyfriend showing up to her apartment, the embarrassment she felt from her sickly look, or how miserably sick she felt, but suddenly her eyes watered and her lip trembled as she shook her head at matt.

“oh, baby,” matt whispered, stepping into the apartment and wrapping his arms around y/n.

she immediately melted into his arms, a weight on her shoulders lifted as matt locked the door behind him and held y/n in his arms in silence. tears streamed down her cheeks as she sniffled into his jacket. matt leaned down and kissed the top of her head.

“wanna sit down?” matt asked as y/n’s cries softened. y/n simply nodded, letting matt lead her back to the couch. when the sat down, matt wrapped one arm around y/n frame, letting her lean into him. “what’s wrong?”

“i caught the flu.” y/n sniffed, rubbing her sore eyes. “i feel like shit.”

“i’m sorry baby,” matt whispered into y/n’s hair, letting his fingertips graze up and down her arm.

“i’m sorry you have to deal with this,” y/n mumbled, suddenly shy of matt seeing her with her messy hair and in t-shirt and sweats.

“you have nothing to be sorry about,” matt scoffed, bringing his hand to her cheek and tilting her head up to place a soft peck on her lips. as if sensing her insecurity, matt giggled “you look so pretty right now.”

y/n blushed and leaned impossibly further into matt’s arms. “can you stay here with me?”

“of course,” matt spoke softly, pulling y/n closer to his chest. a few minutes later, y/n’s breathing slowed, and matt looked down at her head buried in his chest.

“babe?” matt whispered. y/n didn’t respond. matt smiled at his girlfriend’s sleeping figure before reaching over to grab one of the blankets from the couch and draping it over both of their bodies. matt leaned his face down to kiss the top of y/n’s head, before letting his own eyes flutter shut.

…

author’s note: pls don’t bully me this is my first try! i literally have never written on tumblr before and i haven’t written in like 2 years anyways, so. but if u have any advice or want a part 2 pls let me know!!!!!! OK BYE

[bratzkoo]

still the one | joshua hong

Author: bratzkoo Pairing: exes! joshua x reader Genre: fluff, semi-angst Rating: PG-15 Word count: 4.8k~ Warnings/note: i just want joshua to do something very loser of him just to get his ex back.

summary: 5 years after your break up, Joshua tries his best to get your attention. May it be creating a new instagram to get you to notice him, making your brother (Seungkwan) secretly invite him to his birthday party, and his latest act: begging you on his knees in front of your door to get him back. He just never gives up!

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

You didn’t really see it coming.

The autumn breeze carried a hint of crisp possibility as you walked through the park, fallen leaves crunching satisfyingly beneath your feet. Life was good – you had a successful career that challenged and fulfilled you, a cozy apartment in the heart of the city, and a circle of friends who filled your days with laughter and your nights with adventure.

As you strolled along the winding path, you couldn't help but smile at the scenes around you. Couples walked hand in hand, their heads bent close in conversation. Families spread out on checkered blankets, enjoying impromptu picnics in the fading warmth of the season. A group of friends tossed a frisbee, their shouts and laughter carrying on the wind.

You paused for a moment, tilting your face up to catch the last rays of the setting sun. Contentment washed over you, a feeling of being exactly where you were meant to be. Your phone buzzed in your pocket, likely Ranee confirming plans for your weekly wine and movie night. Life had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, one that you'd worked hard to create and maintain.

Little did you know that this carefully constructed peace was about to be shaken to its core. As you reached for your phone, you were blissfully unaware of the storm that was brewing, of the persistent force that was about to re-enter your life and turn everything upside down.

Somewhere across the city, Joshua Hong was steeling his nerves, his finger hovering over the 'Create Account' button on Instagram. He'd spent weeks crafting the perfect username, carefully selecting photos, and writing and rewriting his bio. Now, with a deep breath and a silent prayer, he was about to take the first step in his plan to win you back.

But for now, in this moment, you were simply enjoying the park, the autumn day, and the life you'd built for yourself. The future, with all its unexpected twists and turns, could wait.

Your phone buzzed in your pocket, pulling you from your reverie. A notification from Instagram – a new follow request. Your breath caught as you read the username: J_Hong_1996. It couldn't be... could it?

With trembling fingers, you tapped on the profile. The photos were sparse, but unmistakable. Joshua, looking older but still achingly familiar, in various locations around the city. Your city. He was back.

For a moment, you considered hitting the 'Decline' button, shutting this unexpected door before it could fully open. But curiosity – or perhaps something deeper – made you hesitate. Before you could overthink it, you hit 'Accept', telling yourself it was just to see what he was up to.

Within minutes, your phone buzzed again. A direct message.

"(Y/N), I know it's been a long time, but I'm back in town. Can we talk?"

You stared at the message, a whirlwind of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. Anger at his presumption, hurt that still lingered after all these years, and underneath it all, a traitorous flicker of... what? Hope? Longing? You shook your head, banishing the thought.

Days passed, and more messages followed, each one a little more desperate than the last.

"I understand if you're angry. I just want a chance to explain."

"I've missed you every day for the past five years. Please, just five minutes of your time."

"I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to earn it."

You continued to ignore them, hoping he'd take the hint. But Joshua, it seemed, was nothing if not persistent.

A week after the first Instagram request, your brother Seungkwan called. His voice was suspiciously casual as he said, "Hey, sis! Just finalizing plans for my birthday party next weekend. You're coming, right?"

"Of course," you replied, a smile in your voice despite your turbulent thoughts. "Wouldn't miss it for the world."

"Great!" Seungkwan said, a little too enthusiastically. There was a pause, and then, "Oh, and, uh, just so you know... Joshua might be there. He reached out, said he was back in town and wanted to reconnect with old friends. I hope that's okay?"

Your grip tightened on the phone, knuckles turning white. "Seungkwan," you said, your voice dangerously calm, "did he put you up to this?"

Your brother's guilty silence was all the answer you needed. You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose. "It's fine. It's your party. Invite whoever you want."

As you ended the call, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were being maneuvered into a confrontation you weren't sure you were ready for.

The night of Seungkwan's party arrived, crisp and clear. You'd spent an embarrassing amount of time choosing your outfit – a sleek black dress that hugged your curves, paired with your favorite heels. You told yourself it was for your own confidence, not for any other reason.

The moment you stepped into the crowded apartment, you felt his presence. It was like a sixth sense, your body attuned to his proximity even after all these years. You scanned the room, your heart racing, but there was no sign of him.

For the first hour, you managed to avoid him, sticking close to your friends and keeping your eyes averted from the door. But as you stepped out onto the balcony for a breath of fresh air, you heard his voice behind you.

"(Y/N)."

You turned slowly, steeling yourself. And there he was. Joshua. Five years older, a touch of silver at his temples, but still devastatingly handsome. His eyes, those warm brown eyes that had once looked at you with such love, now held a mixture of hope and trepidation.

"Hello, Joshua," you said, proud of how steady your voice sounded.

He took a step closer, and you fought the urge to back away. "Thank you for not running away," he said softly. "I wasn't sure you'd even talk to me."

"I'm here for Seungkwan," you replied, perhaps a bit more sharply than necessary. "This isn't about you."

Joshua nodded, a flicker of hurt crossing his face. "I know. But I'm hoping... maybe we could talk? Just for a few minutes?"

You sighed, looking out over the city skyline. "What is there to talk about, Joshua? It's been five years. We've both moved on."

"Have we?" he asked, moving to stand beside you at the railing. "Because I haven't. Not really."

You turned to face him, anger bubbling up inside you. "And whose fault is that? You're the one who left, remember? You don't get to come back after five years and act like nothing's changed."

"I know," Joshua said, his voice thick with regret. "I know I hurt you, and I'm so sorry. I've regretted leaving every day for the past five years. You're all I think about, (Y/N). I made the biggest mistake of my life walking away from us, and I'm hoping... I'm hoping you'll give me a chance to make it right."

You shook your head, stepping away from him. "It's too late for that, Joshua. We can't go back."

As you walked away, leaving him alone on the balcony, you couldn't shake the feeling that this wasn't over. You were right.

For weeks after the party, Joshua's attempts to reach you intensified. It started with flowers delivered to your office – a stunning bouquet of your favorite blooms. Your coworkers cooed and speculated, but you simply moved them to the break room, ignoring the card that bore his familiar handwriting.

Next came the letters. Handwritten pages that showed up in your mailbox, pouring out his heart, explaining his actions, and begging for another chance. You told yourself you were going to throw them away unread, but each night found you poring over his words, tears staining the pages.

Then there was the singing telegram – a mortifying experience that left your entire office buzzing with gossip. As the poor college student in a ridiculous costume belted out a heartfelt rendition of "your song," you wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow you whole.

Each gesture chipped away at your resolve, even as you tried to maintain your distance. You found yourself lying awake at night, memories of your time together playing on an endless loop. The good times – lazy Sunday mornings tangled in bed, surprise picnics in the park, the way he'd look at you like you were the only person in the world. But also the bad – the fights that grew more frequent towards the end, the distance that had grown between you, the day he'd walked out with nothing but a suitcase and a broken promise.

Your friends were divided on the issue. Ranee, ever the romantic, thought you should hear him out. "People change, (Y/N)," she'd say over wine and takeout. "Maybe he really has grown up. Don't you owe it to yourself to at least listen?"

But Jihoon, who'd seen you through the worst of the breakup, was adamantly against it. "He had his chance," he'd argue, eyes flashing with protective anger. "He doesn't get to waltz back in and disrupt your life just because he's decided he made a mistake."

You appreciated their concern, but in the end, you knew the decision had to be yours. And despite your best efforts to stay strong, to remember the pain he'd caused, you could feel your resolve weakening.

Then came the night that changed everything.

You were settling in for a quiet evening at home, a glass of wine in hand and your favorite movie queued up, when a commotion outside your apartment door caught your attention. Frowning, you muted the TV and approached cautiously, peering through the peephole.

Your heart nearly stopped at what you saw.

Joshua was on his knees in the hallway, a bouquet of your favorite flowers clutched in his hands. Tears streamed down his face as he looked up at your door, unaware that you were watching. His voice, muffled but clear, carried through the wood.

"(Y/N), please. I know you're in there. I know I don't deserve your forgiveness, but I'm begging you to give me a chance."

You pressed your forehead against the door, closing your eyes as his words washed over you.

"I was stupid for letting you go, and I've spent every day since then regretting it. You're still the one for me, (Y/N). You've always been the one. I'll do anything to prove it to you. Please, just open the door."

Your hand hovered over the doorknob, your heart pounding so loudly you were sure he must be able to hear it. Five years of hurt, of carefully rebuilding your life, warred against the undeniable pull you still felt towards him.

"I'm not giving up," Joshua continued, his voice cracking with emotion. "I'll stay here all night if I have to. I'll come back every day until you're ready to talk to me. Because I know, deep down, that we're meant to be together. Please, (Y/N). Just give me one more chance."

You leaned back against the wall, sliding down until you were sitting on the floor, knees pulled up to your chest. Memories flooded your mind – the day you met, your first kiss, the night he told you he loved you. But also the fights, the growing distance, the day he'd walked out. You'd worked so hard to move on, to build a life without him. Could you really risk opening that door again?

As if he could sense your indecision, Joshua's pleas grew more urgent. "I know I hurt you. I know I left you alone, and I can't even begin to tell you how sorry I am for that. But being back here, being close to you again... it's made me realize that you're still the one for me. You always have been."

You found yourself standing, drawn to his voice like a magnet. Your hand reached for the doorknob of its own accord.

"I've tried to start again, to find somebody else," Joshua continued, unaware of your internal struggle. "But I can't get you out of my head. The memories, the things we said to each other... they're always there. I can't move on, (Y/N). Not without knowing I did everything I could to make things right between us."

With a shaky breath, you turned the knob. As you slowly opened the door, Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a mixture of hope and fear. He scrambled to his feet, the flowers clutched tightly in his hand.

"You have five minutes," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. "After that, if I tell you to leave, you go. And you don't come back. Understood?"

Joshua nodded eagerly, relief washing over his features. "Thank you, (Y/N). That's all I'm asking for. A chance to explain, to show you how much you mean to me."

You stepped aside, allowing him to enter. As he passed, his familiar scent – a mix of cologne and something uniquely him – enveloped you, bringing with it a rush of memories. You closed the door and turned to face him, arms crossed protectively over your chest.

"Talk," you said simply.

Joshua took a deep breath, setting the flowers on a nearby table. "First, I want to say how sorry I am. Not just for leaving, but for how I handled everything leading up to it. I was young and stupid and scared of the intensity of what I felt for you. Instead of talking to you about my fears, I pushed you away. I convinced myself that leaving was the right thing to do, that we'd both be better off. But I was wrong. So incredibly wrong."

You remained silent, watching him carefully. Joshua ran a hand through his hair, a nervous gesture you remembered all too well.

"These past five years have been... empty," he continued. "I threw myself into my work, traveled, tried to convince myself I was living this great, exciting life. But nothing felt right. Nothing felt like home. Because home was always with you, (Y/N)."

"Why now?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

Joshua's eyes met yours, filled with a sincerity that made your heart ache. "Because I finally realized what an idiot I'd been. Because the thought of going another day without you in my life was unbearable. I know I have no right to ask for your forgiveness, let alone a second chance. But I had to try. I couldn't live with myself if I didn't at least tell you how I feel."

You turned away, moving to the window to look out at the city lights. "And how do you feel, Joshua?"

You heard him step closer, though he didn't touch you. "I love you, (Y/N). I never stopped loving you. You're the first thing I think about when I wake up and the last thing on my mind before I go to sleep. Every good thing that happens, I want to share with you. Every bad day, I wish you were there to make it better. You're it for me. You're the one."

Tears pricked at your eyes, and you blinked them back furiously. "Love isn't always enough, Joshua. You proved that when you walked out five years ago."

"I know," he said softly. "But I've changed. I've grown up. I know now that love isn't just a feeling – it's a choice. And I choose you, (Y/N). I'll choose you every day for the rest of my life if you'll let me."

You turned to face him, taking in the earnest expression on his face, the love and hope shining in his eyes. "And what if I say no? What if I tell you to leave and never come back?"

Pain flashed across Joshua's features, but he stood his ground. "Then I'll respect your decision. It'll break my heart, but I'll go. Because more than anything, I want you to be happy. Even if that happiness doesn't include me."

His words hung in the air between you, heavy with promise and possibility. You found yourself at a crossroads, the path forward unclear. On one side lay the safety of the life you'd built without him – predictable, stable, but tinged with a loneliness you'd never quite been able to shake. On the other, the unknown – the risk of heartbreak, but also the potential for a love deeper and stronger than before.

"I can't..." you started, your voice breaking. You took a deep breath and tried again. "I can't just forget everything that happened, Joshua. The pain, the years of trying to move on... it's not that simple."

He nodded, understanding in his eyes. "I know. I'm not asking you to forget. I'm asking for a chance to make new memories, better ones. To show you every day how much you mean to me, how sorry I am for the pain I caused."

You closed your eyes, overwhelmed by the emotions coursing through you. When you opened them again, Joshua was still there, waiting patiently, hope etched in every line of his face.

"I can't promise you anything," you said finally. "I don't know if I can trust you again, or if I even want to try. But..." you paused, hardly believing the words about to leave your mouth, "I'm willing to listen. To take things slowly and see where they lead."

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was like the sun breaking through clouds. "That's more than I could have hoped for," he said softly. "Thank you, (Y/N). I promise you won't regret this."

As he turned to leave, pausing at the door to look back at you with eyes full of renewed determination, you couldn't shake the feeling that you were standing on the precipice of something monumental. Whether it was the beginning of a new chapter or the final closing of an old one remained to be seen. But one thing was certain – Joshua's persistence had finally broken through your defenses, and now, for better or worse, you were embarking on a journey neither of you could have anticipated.

The door closed behind him, and you sank onto your couch, emotions swirling within you. You picked up your phone, needing to talk to someone who could offer an outside perspective. Ranee answered on the second ring.

"Hey, what's up?" she asked, concern evident in her voice.

"I think I'm in trouble," you said, your voice shaky. "Joshua... he was just here. On his knees in the in the hallway," you continued, your voice barely above a whisper. "Begging me to give him another chance."

Ranee gasped. "Oh my god, (Y/N). What did you do?"

You closed your eyes, still hardly believing it yourself. "I... I let him in. We talked."

"And?" Ranee pressed, her voice a mixture of concern and excitement.

"And... I told him I'd be willing to listen. To take things slowly." You let out a shaky breath. "Ranee, what am I doing? Am I crazy for even considering this?"

There was a pause on the other end of the line. When Ranee spoke again, her voice was gentle. "You're not crazy, (Y/N). You're human. And whether you want to admit it or not, Joshua was a huge part of your life. It's natural to have conflicting feelings."

"But what if I'm making a huge mistake?" you asked, voicing the fear that had been gnawing at you since Joshua left. "What if he hurts me again?"

"That's always a risk in any relationship," Ranee pointed out. "But let me ask you this – do you think you'd regret it more if you gave him a chance and it didn't work out, or if you turned him away without ever knowing what could have been?"

Her question gave you pause. You thought about the past five years, about the life you'd built for yourself. It was a good life, comfortable and safe. But there had always been something missing, a void you'd never quite been able to fill.

"I don't know," you admitted. "I just... I'm scared, Ranee. I worked so hard to move on, to be okay without him. What if letting him back in undoes all of that?"

"Then you'll pick yourself up and move on again," Ranee said firmly. "But this time, you'll do it knowing you gave it your all. No what-ifs, no regrets."

After hanging up with Ranee, you sat in the quiet of your apartment, mulling over her words. Your eyes fell on the bouquet Joshua had brought, still sitting on the table where he'd left it. Despite everything, a small smile tugged at your lips. He'd remembered your favorite flowers after all these years.

Your phone buzzed with a text:

From Joshua: "Thank you again for giving me a chance to explain. I meant every word I said tonight. I'll wait as long as it takes. You're still the one, (Y/N). Always."

You stared at the message, your heart racing. Slowly, you typed out a reply:

To Joshua: "I meant what I said too. Slow. I need time to process all of this."

His response came almost immediately:

From Joshua: "Of course. We'll go at whatever pace you're comfortable with. I'm just grateful for the opportunity. Sleep well, (Y/N)."

As you got ready for bed that night, your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions. Part of you was terrified of the vulnerability that came with opening your heart again. But another part, a part that had been dormant for far too long, felt a flicker of excitement at the possibility of reconnecting with Joshua.

The next few weeks were a delicate dance of tentative steps forward and cautious retreats. True to his word, Joshua respected your need for space, never pushing for more than you were ready to give. Your interactions started small – text messages exchanged throughout the day, brief phone calls that gradually grew longer.

Then came the coffee dates. The first one was awkward, both of you unsure of how to act around each other after so much time apart. But as the weeks went by, you found yourselves falling into a comfortable rhythm. You talked about your lives over the past five years – your career advancements, his travels, the lessons you'd both learned.

One afternoon, as you sat across from Joshua in your favorite café, he looked at you with an intensity that made your breath catch.

"What?" you asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook his head, a soft smile playing at his lips. "Nothing, I just... I can't believe I'm here with you. There were so many times over the past five years when I thought I'd lost this chance forever."

You felt a familiar pang in your chest – a mixture of old hurt and new hope. "Joshua..."

"I know," he said quickly. "I know we're taking things slow. And I respect that. I just want you to know how grateful I am for every moment I get to spend with you."

His sincerity was almost overwhelming. You found yourself reaching across the table, your hand covering his. It was the first time you'd initiated physical contact since he'd come back into your life, and you felt him tense in surprise before relaxing into your touch.

"I'm grateful too," you admitted softly. "I won't lie – there's still a part of me that's scared. That's waiting for the other shoe to drop. But... I'm glad we're doing this. Whatever 'this' is."

Joshua turned his hand over, interlacing his fingers with yours. "It's whatever you want it to be, (Y/N). I'm here for as long as you'll have me."

As the weeks turned into months, you found yourself slowly letting your guard down. The walls you'd built around your heart began to crumble, brick by brick. Joshua was patient, attentive, and consistently present in a way he hadn't been towards the end of your relationship five years ago.

But it wasn't all smooth sailing. There were moments of doubt, of old hurts resurfacing. Arguments where past grievances bubbled up, threatening to derail the progress you'd made. But unlike before, you both made a conscious effort to communicate, to work through your issues rather than letting them fester.

It was during one of these conversations, late one night as you walked through the park where you'd first met, that Joshua stopped suddenly, turning to face you.

"(Y/N)," he said, his voice serious. "I need you to know something."

You felt your heart rate quicken, a mix of anticipation and anxiety coursing through you. "What is it?"

Joshua took a deep breath, his eyes never leaving yours. "I know we've been taking things slow, and I respect that. But I want to be clear about where I stand. I love you. I'm in love with you. And if you'll have me, I want to spend the rest of my life proving that to you every single day."

You felt tears prick at your eyes, overwhelmed by the intensity of his words and the emotion behind them. For a moment, you were transported back in time – to the day he'd first told you he loved you, to all the dreams and plans you'd made together. But this time, instead of fear or doubt, you felt a sense of certainty wash over you.

"Joshua," you said softly, reaching up to cup his face in your hands. "I love you too. I think... I think I always have, even when I was trying so hard not to."

The smile that lit up his face was brighter than any you'd ever seen. He pulled you close, his forehead resting against yours. "So where do we go from here?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

You took a deep breath, your heart full of hope and possibility. "Forward," you said simply. "Together."

As Joshua's lips met yours in a kiss that felt both familiar and thrillingly new, you knew that this was just the beginning. There would be challenges ahead, old wounds to heal, and new obstacles to overcome. But for the first time in five years, you felt truly, completely whole.

You pulled back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A whirlwind of emotions coursed through you – love, frustration, happiness, and a touch of amused exasperation. Joshua's persistence had not only won him a second chance but had also reignited a love that had never truly died. As you stood there, hand in hand in the park where your story began, the future stretching out before you, a realization hit you.

"DAMN YOU, JOSHUA HONG!" you exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise.

His eyes widened, a mix of confusion and concern crossing his face. "What? What's wrong?"

But before he could say anything else, you grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him close again. "Damn you and your persistence," you murmured, a smile tugging at your lips despite your words. "Making me fall in love with you all over again."

Relief and joy flooded Joshua's features as he understood. "I told you I wouldn't give up," he said softly, his arms wrapping around your waist.

"Well, congratulations," you replied, your tone a mixture of sarcasm and genuine affection. "You win. Are you happy now?"

The smile that lit up Joshua's face was answer enough, but he leaned in close, his lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Happier than I've ever been."

With a playful roll of your eyes, you pulled him in for another kiss, this one deeper and more passionate than the last. As you lost yourself in the moment, you realized that sometimes, the most beautiful love stories are the ones that withstand the test of time and separation, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before – even if they require a little (or a lot) of persistence along the way.

When you finally broke apart, both slightly breathless, you couldn't help but laugh. "You know," you said, intertwining your fingers with his, "if you ever pull a disappearing act like that again, I'll hunt you down myself."

Joshua grinned, bringing your joined hands to his lips and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Noted. Though I have to say, I kind of like this feisty side of you."

"Oh, you haven't seen feisty yet, Hong," you retorted, but your eyes were sparkling with happiness.

And if this man ever forget how lucky he is? Well, you'd be more than happy to remind him – right after you kissed him senseless, of course.

[delfiore]

—MY DEAREST FRIEND AND ENEMY. (4/5)

pairing: ona batlle x fem!reader

synopsis: your start at barcelona is rockier than expected. luckily, you have ona there to support you through it.

word count: 4.3k

a/n: we're almost at the end guys final stretch!! this series is ending at part 5

PART I, PART II, PART III, PART V

“I forgot how fucking dreadful press days are.”

You had just returned home from an entire day of cameras shoved in your face and smiling until your cheeks hurt. It didn’t help that you were nervous as hell at a new club and country. To say your battery was spent was an understatement.

“Well then don’t get used to it, 'cause I’d be happy not to do any of the work that got you here,” Toni answered on the video call.

“Fuck off,” you laughed. “I wanna stay here for a while. So, no need to worry.”

“Good. You deserve it, Y/N. You’ll do great.”

“Thank you for all that you do, Tones. I don’t thank you enough for putting up with me and my bullshit.”

“You can thank me by becoming top scorer this season?”

You grinned, “We’ll see.”

There was a different expectation of being a Barcelona player. You were presumed to integrate yourself into a team of champions and help prolong the club’s success.

These were high expectations, and with them came intensive physical and technical training. You had to adapt to a new style of play, new players with different sets of skills, not to mention having to settle into a whole new footballing culture. But you were where you are because you never backed down from a challenge, and this one was no exception.

It certainly helped that there were people you have played with at the club—Lucy, Keira, and, of course, Ona.

You felt her eyes on you as you finished a sprint on the training ground, slightly self-conscious as you were already sloppy and perspiring just from the warmup.

“Need some water, Y/L/N? You’re not already sweating, are you?” Lucy teased as she jogged past with a ball at her feet.

You pointed at the glaring sun. “Just gotta get used to the weather.”

“Well, ya better get used to it fast ‘cause I’m not gonna wait for you to catch up,” the English defender said before nutmegging you with a cackle.

“Oh, you’re fucking on!”

The laughter caught Ona’s attention. She looked over and saw you and Lucy fighting the ball off each other, your giggles rolling like a child’s yet your movements were fluid and expertly as if you were on the pitch. She couldn’t help but smile as her eyes followed your form, energized and youthful, your skin glistening under the sun.

The ball rolled to her, and she stopped it when the sole of her feet, before passing it back to you. Your giggles died down as you took the ball in your hands and tossed it over to Lucy.

“Hey,” you said with a lingering beam.

“Hi,” she returned your smile.

She lingered, watching the smile never leave your face as you jogged—practically bounced—over to Coach. You were much happier here, it was apparent. How could you not, when there is sunshine all year round in Barcelona? She could only hope she wasn’t the one to rain on your parade.

During a physical training drill involving two people, you were paired with her. Something about similar height and body weight, but she could only think about the way you were panting from the heat, and how you chugged your water like a parched man in the middle of the desert.

“Ready?” She smirked, handing the elastic band to you.

You huffed with a grin and put the band around your waist. “Don’t hold back.”

“Not planning on it.”

Somewhere along the session, Ona had forgotten all about her worries. Something had changed in you, or maybe she had never known the real you at all; the playful and charismatic part of you that you weren’t using to charm her, but it was just the way you were with people. It made her rue not cherishing you as you were before, and letting you slip through her fingers.

You were sprawled out on the grass like a starfish, heaving from the strenuous session. Several of your teammates were also on the ground, some sitting, some lying down as you were, so you didn’t feel too bad about being absolutely destroyed.

“You getting up anytime soon, partner?” A figure blocked the beaming rays of the sun, a short relief from the heat.

“Keep gloating,” you groaned and stood up, pulling your shirt up to wipe the sweat from your face. You knew your plan was working when you spotted her looking at your abdomen, your skin glowing and contoured in the light.

Hardly hiding your smirk, you grabbed a bottle of water, feeling a strange tightness in your thigh just as the session was brought to an end.

“Everyone, gather around,” Mapi waved her hands. “We’re hosting a little party to celebrate a new season at ours. Saturday night, 7 o’clock, BYOB, and a potluck vibe. Whatever you can bring, okay?”

“As long as there won’t be another fire like last time, we’re all good,” said Rolfö with a smirk.

“That was one time, okay? And it wasn’t even that bad,” Mapi protested.

“It almost burned your pretty little face off,” Pina teased.

“Hey, you alright?” You heard Ona whisper next to you. She must have noticed the way you were grimacing and grabbing at the back of your leg.

“Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just feeling a little tight right here.” It was the spot in which your hamstring was injured a couple of years ago.

“Okay, let’s go to the physio,” Ona offered you her arm.

“Oh, it’s okay. I can find my way there.”

Ona hesitated. She suddenly realized how this must have looked for her; either an overly concerned and attentive teammate or an appropriately concerned and attentive lover.

“Do you . . . not want me to come with you?” She asked, her voice quiet and almost inaudible over Mapi frantically defending herself.

“Well, I . . . I don’t want to bother you.”

“It won’t be a bother,” she was astonished to know you thought you could ever bother her. “Promise.”

You nodded and walked with her to the physio quarters. All the while, Ona was walking a step behind you just in case you needed her assistance. When you arrived, a couple of the physios greeted you heartily in Catalan, and Ona was quick to jump in and translate when you looked at her for help.

“We’ve got a feeling this might happen, given her history with that hamstring injury. Tell her to lie down, I’ll have a look.”

You grimaced as the physio felt your thigh, digging his fingers into your flesh, your soft groans stirring a hidden part in Ona. There was a time when she was the one to dig her digits into your thighs. She knew you liked it when did because you would always make your pleasure known.

“He said you’ll be okay, Y/N. Just have to remember to stretch thoroughly before and after physical exercise.”

You sighed and pouted, as you rested your chin on your folded arms.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t know. I just came to a new club, I don’t want this to slow me down,” you blew air out of your mouth. “I just don’t wanna let anyone down.”

“You won’t, Y/N,” Ona took a stool and sat in front of you. “I know any club would be happy to have you at 70%, much less at your full capacity.”

You smiled and shook your head. “Is this your attempt at making me feel better after everything?”

Ona stuttered, gawking at your comment. Your grin never faltered, and you tilted your head, taunting her.

“I guess I deserved that,” she chuckled quietly, feeling warmth creep up her cheeks.

“I’m just kidding, Ona. I wanna get past it, really,” your eyes softened. “It was causing unnecessary stress and . . . I don’t wanna feel like that anymore.”

“Y/N, I’m sorry—”

“No, please. Don’t apologize anymore. I know you’re sorry.”

“Okay, sorry,” she cringed as soon as it came out. “Okay.”

“I want us to start over. As friends.” You said, extending a hand towards her, dangling it in front of her face. “After all, I feel like we should at least be friendly if we’re playing on the same team now, right?”

She wanted nothing more than to scream in your face and tell her how much she wanted you, how much she wanted to wake up in the morning and find you in the bed next to her, to make you coffee and hold you and kiss you and tell everyone on the team about it because she would be so proud to be yours, to tell you that there hasn’t been a day since she left Manchester that she didn’t wish she could go back and tell you how she really felt.

Instead, she nodded and took your hand. “Yeah, okay.”

It wasn’t just her decision anymore, it never was. And yet, she decided anyway and had to live with it.

As the season rolled on, you found yourself slipping sometimes. You would think about Ona and the time you spent together, but you also cherished what you had now. You were teammates, but you were also friends. You supported and helped each other during training and matches, just as good teammates should. Maybe it was easier that way, but you yearned to be close to her again.

Keira insisted that the best thing you could do was to go on dates and go on dates you did. You went on so many dates in the span of a month that all the faces seemed to have blurred together. A couple of them became one-night stands, but none turned out to be anything meaningful, not when you only had one person in the back of your mind, hard as you tried not to act on them.

They reminded you of Leena, how shitty you handled the situation by basically fleeing the country. You had called her a few times, and left a few messages, wanting to talk and apologize, but none of them were answered. You tried her Instagram, but she had blocked you on there too. You didn’t blame her, and maybe reaching out now was only giving you the closure you needed to move on, but you wanted to do it because you believed Leena deserved an apology for everything she’s done for you.

So you texted Gio, letting him know what happened. He wasn’t pleased when you told him, not exactly liking that you had disrespected his friend, but agreed to pass a message along.

“Hello, Coach. Tough loss today. What do you think was the main factor in Barça’s defeat today?” “Well, it’s never fun to go through a loss, and we all have a lot of work to do. I can’t comment as to why we’ve lost—I’d have to watch it back—but we simply were not the better team today.” “What do you think of Y/N Y/L/N’s performance? There were several chances that she’s missed today, and she hasn’t made an impression at the club quite yet. Have you had any reassessments about this signing at all?” “To evaluate a player’s performance this early is simply unfair. Some players hit the ground running right away, but some don’t. It doesn’t mean they are doomed. Y/N has shown time and time again that she is a world-class player, and I have full faith that she will become an integral part of our squad.”

Barcelona hadn’t won in five games. It was starting to worry the board. You knew it was a team sport, and that if you lost, it meant multiple people were doing something wrong. But you started all five of those games, and you missed a lot of chances and passes. It made you think it was your fault somehow.

You turned off the press conference you were watching of Jonatan’s. Even though he didn’t show it, you knew he was stressed, trying to find a fault in the system. You wished you knew the answer, but you didn’t, because you were trying your best and it still didn’t seem to be good enough.

“Alright, girls.” Alexia clapped her hands together as she stood in the middle of the dressing room. “We lost. Big deal. Feel the sting, and let it pass over you. If you don’t, we might as well just give up on the title now. We can’t do that. We’re champions. The reason why we are is that we are strong enough to get back up, time and time again. That’s what makes us champions.”

Your eyes darted toward Ona sitting across the dressing room with her head in her hands. There were two goals out of the four the team conceded that came from the right flank, where Ona was covering. The moment those goals hit the net, you had the urge to yell, but seeing the way her shoulders sagged as she dejectedly looked away absolved you of any anger you felt.

You remembered the nights you spent consoling her over losses that could have gone either way. She blamed herself for every defeat she had suffered, finding every fault that she had contributed to, and today was no different.

“Hey,” you knelt in front of her.

She looked up at you, and you knew she had been crying from how red her face was.

You offered her a sad smile. “Look around you. There’s something worse than being sad, and that’s being alone and sad. You’re not alone.”

Placing a firm hand on her knee, you rubbed her skin softly. She laughed quietly, and you remembered how it was to kiss her. It was so long ago, but the traces of it still haunted you before you closed your eyes at night. It wouldn’t be good for either of you now. Plus, everyone was here.

“Did you just quote Ted Lasso at me?”

“Yeah, but he ain’t wrong.”

Looking around the room at the sullen faces of your teammates, you couldn’t help but feel grateful that they were all here, united by the same emotions. But you still couldn’t shake that gnawing feeling in your stomach that you might have been the problem. The moment you came to the club, Barcelona went on its worst streak in years? Was it the inevitability of a club’s success running its course, or that you had come in and fucked it all up? You knew the answer, of course, and you hated the anxiety that followed.

But you were Y/N Y/L/N, and you never backed down from a challenge, and it wouldn’t be fun if there were none.

It felt like everything you were doing, it was all wrong. Jonatan had sent you in to utilize your dribbling, but you felt like every time you tried, the opposition would mercilessly cut you off. You felt helpless, seeing the way your teammates attempted to hide how annoyed they were you had lost possession again, this time from a quick pass to the flank from Aitana. You were subbed off halfway through the second half to make way for Salma, who managed to salvage a point with an equalizer later in the game.

You sat on the bench, watching your teammates fight on, feeling dejected and trying not to cry before you could get to the dressing room. Patri, who had also been subbed off, put her arm on your shoulder and rubbed it soothingly.

Whilst you were coming off, you heard boos coming from the stands, from Barça fans, calling you names, telling you to go back where you came from. You bit your lip, and kept your head down, so people wouldn’t see your tears and make fun of them too.

You excused yourself at the final whistle to find a bathroom you could hide in. Why was it so hard for you to receive those passes? You had never had trouble with passing before.

Looking in the mirror, you saw a face looking back with pity. But it wasn’t you, not really. It was the insecure child you were years ago, the one whose ambitions were driven by fear of abandonment. Her eyes were brimming with tears, her bottom lip jutting out and quivering, her chest rose and fell like she awaited the world to close in on her and swallow her whole.

Your breathing picked up, and you started pacing back and forth, breathing heavily out of your mouth. Your hands shook as you mumbled to yourself to get your shit together. The breaths you drew grew faster and shallower until you sunk to your knees on the cold tiles and wept. You didn’t know how long you were there. It could have been minutes, or hours until two arms wrapped around you tightly.

You looked up, panicked, but it was just Ona. Still, you stood up and walked away from her attempting to hide your tear-stained face, but she insisted, pulling you into her.

“It’s okay, Y/N.” She said, over and over. “Look at me.”

So you looked. You were so tired of fighting, you just wanted to go home. Her eyes darted back and forth between yours, hard at first trying to get you to stop being stubborn, but then they softened, seeing you fall apart like this.

“This feels oddly familiar, doesn’t it?” She said.

You sniffled, and let out a tearful laugh before launching yourself into her arms. She stood there holding you while you cried until you were too tired to continue.

Winter could have come and gone in Barcelona and you would have never noticed. Still, the Catalans were big on Christmas, at least the ones you knew were. Everyone had been talking about their holiday plans, much of it involved big dinners surrounded by family and/or drinking until you passed out, but you thought about the vacation you would be taking somewhere warm. Mexico perhaps, the Maldives, or back to good ol’ Ibiza.

So when Ona invited you to come back to Vilassar de Mar to spend Christmas with her and her family, you had an important decision to make. You knew how it looked, but things were far from how they appeared between you. After that game away, you had found it easier to confide in Ona about things; little things, big things, it didn’t matter, Ona was always there to listen. In return, you lent her your ears and maybe a shoulder to lean on. You had almost become something like friends.

Ona’s childhood home was no grand castle, but it was warm and loving. Her parents and brother greeted you like you were family right from the moment you stepped through the door, taking your suitcase and jacket from you. Her father, claiming to be a big fan of yours, asked for your autograph and you could only happily indulge him.

“Please, our home is yours,” her mother said, leading you inside.

“Told you they could be a lot,” Ona murmured with a grin.

“What do you mean? I’m being treated like royalty! I’m not complaining,” you smirked and she rolled her eyes.

Her mother led you and Ona to her childhood bedroom, a small room littered with posters and trophies sitting on a shelf at the foot of her bed.

Just then, her mother gasped quietly as if remembering something, and spoke to Ona in Spanish. She stuttered for a few seconds, then turned to you. “My mom’s saying you could take this room and I’ll sleep in Joan’s. He’ll take the couch if that’s—”

“Oh, no, no, please. I feel bad enough that you guys are hosting me, I can’t just kick your brother out of his room.” You shook your head quickly. “I could sleep here if that’s okay.”

Ona nodded gingerly and relayed the message to her mother, who was fully understanding and left you both to unpack.

The door clicked shut, and you looked over to Ona, who had lifted the corner of her mouth looking back at you.

Aitana came to visit on the 23rd, claiming it was always a treat to hang at the Batlles because she always leaves well-fed. You could attest to that, as the dinners they served you were mouth-watering, and you found yourself thinking about the next one the moment you opened your eyes in the morning.

You had helped Ona’s mom with juicing some lemonade to bring out to everyone relaxing in the backyard or—in Ona and Aitana’s case—passing a football around. Quickly setting the lemonade down on the table—much to Mrs. Batlle’s dismay—you sprinted towards the girls and took the ball from Ona’s feet.

She stuck her tongue out at you and walked towards the table, taking a glass of lemonade for herself.

“Would it be so hard to admit to what you’re both denying yourself?”

You chuckled quietly at Aitana’s words. “It feels more like deprivation than denial.”

“Ona loves you, Y/N.” She said, watching Ona on the other side of the yard conversing with her brother.

“Did she tell you that?”

“I’ve known the girl ever since we were 15,” she shrugged. “And yes, she cried to me last year about you.”

You chuckled. “Well, the feeling is definitely mutual.”

“But . . . ?”

You glanced at her and sent a wordless smile, plopping your sunglasses back on before joining the Batlles for their daily lemonade. Aitana watched you to the table, picking up on Ona quickly handing you a glass, and brushing hair out of your eyes as you drank. Idiots, she thought, the both of them.

Looking back, there was not a single moment during your time in Vilassar de Mar that you weren’t holding your breath every time you were in the same room as Ona. It made you seek out her mom, and hang with her more than you did with Ona. You were also able to pick up some more Spanish, as it was the only way you could effectively communicate with her. You didn’t want to toot your own horn, but her mom did call you an aprendiz rápida, a fast learner.

“Your parents have outdone themselves once again,” you said, leaning against the window. “I wish I grew up with the stuff you guys eat here. Christmas would be so much more fun.”

“Did you like the caga tío too?” Ona grinned and took a seat on the edge of the bed.

“Best thing ever. It poops nougat!” You said excitedly and shook your head.

As your laughter died down, you could hear slurred singing and laughing outside the window somewhere down the street.

“I can’t remember the last time I was this happy,” you said, a ghost of a smile remaining on your lips.

Ona looked out the window, smiling too. “It’s why I always go home whenever I feel down. If I can’t go home, I’ll bring my family to me.” She was sitting next to you now, her arms folded and propped on her thighs. “You’re always welcome to visit. I’m sure they love you more than they love me now.”

“Well, I’d be surprised if they could resist my charm,” you grinned and pushed her shoulder. “I envy you, Ona. Your family’s fantastic.”

“You’ve never told me about your family before,” she said.

“Because there’s nothing to tell,” you shrugged. “Mom and Dad never really cared about me anyway. The only good thing they did for me was sign me up for football and let me leave home to go to my youth club.

They used to go to my games because they were obligated to. The moment I turned 18, they never felt the need. Sometimes I just want to win a game, then look into the stands and see them wearing my shirt, cheering me on, be proud of me.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Ona offered, bumping her knee against your own.

“Don’t be. If they’re not, you shouldn’t be,” you smiled sadly.

Your gaze shifted to her face, seeing the way she studied you, just like that day in the tunnel. Ona was an observer, and it was apparent whenever she was. It was why she was so good at the game; she absorbed like a sponge and repeated what she learned like it was nothing.

Her eyes darted back and forth between your own, and you smiled, watching her nuzzle into her arm, yet leaning in ever so gently.

"What are you doing?"

"Nothing."

“Is this wise?” You raised an eyebrow at her, grinning.

“No,” her voice came out as barely a whisper, “but I know it’s not wrong.”

She was right. It shouldn’t be wrong to feel the way you did. From the beginning, it’s always been her.

You were depriving yourself of the one missing piece in your life, but you were afraid of getting hurt again. But you wanted to be loved so badly, and you didn’t want anyone else.

[steviewashere]

Deserving

Rating: Teen and Up CW: Unspecified Eating Disorder, Food Insecurity Tags: Post-Season 2, Pre-Season 3, Pre-Relationship, Pre-Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Different First Meeting AU, Eddie Munson Takes Care of Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson Has a Crush on Steve Harrington, Worried Eddie Munson, Eddie Munson is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington Has Self Esteem Issues, Insecure Steve Harrington, Lonely Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Strangers to Friends, Sharing Food, Food as a Metaphor For Love, Steve Harrington Has Bad Parents, Steve Harrington Has Rich Parents, He is Not Rich, Dialogue Heavy Originally, this was going to be 5+1 where Eddie shares his food five times and once where Steve shares his food, but I just couldn't finish the original plot.

🥪——————🥪 There’s a boy in Eddie’s lunch period that doesn’t have anything to eat. It’s weird because he knows who this kid is; Steve Harrington—cocky and rich and bitch with no bite—the kid who’s fallen from grace thanks to a few punches to the face. And the same kid who doesn’t really talk to anybody.

As it is, Steve is sitting by himself at one of the lunchroom tables. Arms crossed on the surface, head down on his forearms, hair limp at the crown of his head. Unusual and unseen. His shoulders are hitched, shaking like he’s crying unsubtly, yet quietly—unseen and unheard. It’s weird, he thinks, because Steve had just been looking out one of the windows, eyes a little hazy, glazed like he’d been gearing up to cry. Eddie had caught Steve pushing his hands into his hair, tugging like he was trying to rip it all out. But then he’d gone ahead and collapsed into this sad, huffing little heap onto the table.

Eddie maybe keeps his eye on Steve for too long, too often. To know the multitudes. The little fractures in his mask—spider webs, that’s what they were, spreading and sprawling. He supposed that, at some point, the web would be completed and be easy enough to knock down. Leaving in its wake a sad, mole-dotted, half-bruised, white-scarred face.

A face with a hungry maw, if the way Steve clutched his stomach said anything.

He makes a last minute decision today. Eddie curves his path away from the Hellfire Club’s table. Lunchbox dangling in his hand—a measly bologna and mustard sandwich, a baggie of salted pretzel sticks, and a Yoo-hoo he didn’t need to refrigerate all clinking against the metal interior. And then he plops himself down in front of Steve without a peep, just the hard clink of his wallet chain on the bench and his too big rings on the table.

All at once, slow, yet purposeful—Steve’s head springs up. He looks worse up close. Mottled purple. Swollen and shiny. There’s one of those terrible scars on the edge of his hairline, though this one’s different: pink, long, jagged, and fresh.

Steve squints at him. Covers the side of his face by the window, hand cupped around his one good eye, and swallows hard enough Eddie almost recoils. “Munson?” Steve croaks—literally, Eddie notes, like a strangled, old frog—“what’re you doing?”

“Mm, having lunch with my pal,” Eddie answers, prying open his lunchpail, food pulled out one thing at a time. He catches his thumbs in the Ziplock fasten, and from it produces that sad, drooping sandwich his uncle made last night. It’s a little soggy in his hands, too much mustard. And the bologna is sort of…lukewarm, but not inedible. Eddie digs around in one of his vest pockets, pulls out a small Swiss Army knife, and cuts the sandwich in half. Licks the blade, mustard just a little left of what’s meant to be tastefully sour. Then, he pushes a portion of the sandwich across the table to sit right in front of Steve. “Usually, I’d bring a lunch of your preference, but this is all I’ve got right now. So, hope you don’t mind some bologna.”

“I don’t wanna take your food away from you, man. I’ll be fine until I get home.”

Selfless is a trait he didn’t think Steve could really have. Well, from the assumed version he has in his head anyway. But it’s a trait he’s learning he probably won’t like. Not all the way, at least.

“Right,” Eddie murmurs, “and you clutching your stomach out of hunger seems like something to be fine about.” He picks up his half and takes a large bite, licks the bit of mustard from the corner of his mouth. With his mouth full, “It’s weird, y’know, I never see you in here with food. Not even lunch lady Donna’s mashed potatoes and gravy. If you wanna know my opinion, that’s one of the better lunches she makes, and it’s something anybody should try at least once.” He wrestles around in his lunchbox again, a glass bottle of Yoo-hoo now in his grip. The cap pops off satisfyingly and he takes a small swig, swallows the incredible glob in his mouth, and then offers the drink across the table. “Or, y’know, I thought maybe a rich kid would have their own lunch. With all of the good brand stuff. Like uh…Pringles? Yeah, Pringles and Coke? That seems like your game.”

Steve sniffs, looks down at his sandwich, and picks it up gingerly. He keeps staring at it, though. Not out of thought, like maybe he’s wondering if he should give it back. Something more…somber. “Correction,” he mutters, “I have rich parents. I’m just the kid they let live in their house.” Finally, he takes a bite with a gentle, low hum. As if it’s the greatest thing he’s ever put in his mouth. Which can’t possibly be true because, even though Eddie knows this meal is one of Wayne’s specialties, it’s honestly one of the shittier ones. If anything, this sandwich is just placeholder food—something that’ll get them by until Wayne gets paid next, if he gets paid on time.

Eddie hums, taking in the information. “They can’t even bother to send you on with at least a little something? Dude, tell me you at least get some breakfast. You’re breakin’ my heart over here.”

Again, Steve looks at his sandwich. Somber and small. He won’t look at Eddie, though. But Eddie can see him. His flushed cheeks—blotchy and tear track stained. Red rimmed eyes. Shaky fingers. He’s pale underneath the ruddiness. Lips chapped, eyes sunken, dark circles.

He looks like shit.

“Sometimes,” Steve murmurs, “I used to have a bagel in the morning, but my mom said the carbs were bad. I stopped buying them. So…I dunno. It’s not like she even”—He stops. Shakes his head. Takes another bite.

“She even…?”

Steve catches his eyes for all of a second. Places his sandwich on the baggie it came in. Wipes his cheeks, just barely missing some of the bruising. “She’s not even home most of the time anyway. It doesn’t really matter,” he states quiet and bitter. He clears his throat, the sound strained. Shrugs. Rests his face in one hand, looking out the window again. Face going pinched and pained. “You ever had a fend for yourself kind of day?”

“Eh…I’ve had fend for yourself nights. But that’s because my uncle works late, sometimes it’s just up to me to figure something out. Those are cereal nights, man.” He watches Steve again. At the way he doesn’t go back for the sandwich. Not even disgusted. Just…blank. “Was today one of those, Steve?” he asks quietly.

No verbal answer. Just one, small, shaky nod. Eddie won’t stand for that.

“What food do you like? Maybe I can help you come up with like a…a meal plan calendar or something. So that you know what you have at all times and you can, like, make sure you’re eating good.” Steve still doesn’t say anything. Lips rolled tight to his teeth. Eddie tries again, “Or at least just eating, Stevie. I know we don’t really know each other at all, but I see you in here everyday. No lunch. Not even one of those stupid boxes of raisins. You gotta eat, man. Or else, y’know, that shit catches up to you.”

Across from him, Steve sniffles again and wipes the back of his hand on his nose. “I don’t know what I like,” he says, “sandwiches are fine, I guess. It’s fine”—

“Good, great actually. Steve Harrington is getting a tour of the Munson sandwich recipes. Passed down from my uncle, the master of sandwich art. Y’like black forest ham? Maybe a bit of grilled chicken? Tomatoes?” Steve’s finally staring at him now. Wide eyes and raised eyebrows. Mouth dropped ajar with slight disbelief. “What?” Eddie says, “don’t look at me like that. We don’t have to be friends or anything, but you gotta eat. It’s equity, dude. I already got what I need in terms of food and eating, but you don’t. So, I getcha what you need. I help you out.”

Steve droops, breathes out a little sigh. Digs his thumbnail into the stale crust of the sandwich, picking at it, crumbling it onto the table. “You don’t have to do that, Eddie,” he speaks quietly, “I…uh…I don’t want to assume anything, but I don’t think it’s fair that somebody who makes less money than my whole family has to make up for my parents’ stupidity. It’s not your job to look out for somebody like me anyway, right? Just another screw up who can’t get his shit together, can’t even figure out how he’s going to pay for worthwhile groceries for the month.” He finally stops picking at the sandwich. Wipes his nose again. “Thanks for trying, though. I’m sorry that you have to care at all.”

Eddie eyes Steve for a silent beat. And then, with careful, languid movements, he lays his hand palm up on the table. Steve looks to it, but pretends to pay it no mind. Even if his face crumbles a bit more. “Steve,” Eddie speaks, keeping his voice measured and low, “I want to help. I—I know that my uncle and I don’t make a lot. And, sure, maybe figuring out a way to get you some good homecooked meals is a little out of my budget. But I don’t care. You deserve to eat, man. No matter how much money your parents make.

“If I can make your day a little easier—because, I gotta be honest, it seems like you’re just having…the toughest time a person can ever possibly have—then great. If it means me giving you a dollar for the school lunch or just coming here with an extra sandwich in my lunchbox, whatever.

“Nobody deserves to go without eating because their bullshit parents prioritize work and social lives over their own children—and no child deserves to believe they’re the problem. Let me help, okay? Even if we have to start out small, so be it.” Eddie takes a moment to pause, to breathe, to let the cafeteria background noise mingle around them. He crinkles the edge of the Ziplock baggie, pushes it further into Steve’s space, and does the same with the bag of pretzel sticks. “I want to take care of you. Even if we’re just strangers in the hallway, I want to make sure that you’re doing okay.”

He does his best to lean across the way, to block off the rest of the cafeteria from their table. As Steve lays his shaky hands flat on the surface and his face turns bright red, tears steadily streaming down his face. Eddie digs the bandana out of his back pocket and slides it across the table, too, offering it up in silence.

Steve takes it with a shaky hand and pats the tired fabric on his tacky skin. He blows a sharp, wheezing, snotty breath from his nose. “If you’re sure, then I like peanut butter and jelly sandwiches a lot. But I…I wanna make sure I can pay you back, okay? Don’t wanna—I don’t wanna like abuse your generosity or something.”

“You wouldn’t be,” he quickly amends. “I’m offering, man, don’t worry about it.”

“Yeah, but I…I don’t think you understand,” Steve adamantly presses, “I know it’s gonna make me sound all whiny and like uptight or whatever, but I don’t earn an allowance from my parents anymore. Not since…well, I’m sure you know how stupid I am.”

“Hey,” Eddie gently scolds. “You’re not stupid, Steve. You know what you’re talking about, I’ve heard you.”

Steve snorts like Eddie said something funny. “Try telling that to all my college rejection letters and my dad’s crumbling expectations of his only son. I’m sure they could find a million ways to explain just how…how worthless I am. That I’m a burden or…or a stain.”—those last sentences sound like echoes, if Eddie cares to explore it enough. Like they come from a different, more expectant mouth. Steve continues, “How am I even supposed to get a mediocre job? Just feels like I’m too nothing for anything out there. I don’t even know how I’m gonna pay you back, Eddie. Shit, I just shouldn’t accept. I have no idea how I’m supposed to get back up from all this garbage—I—I’m such a fucking loser now. I don’t even have anything going on anymore.”

Eddie furrows his eyebrows, not sure which part of any of that to unpack. Instead, he goes with, “You’ve got sports, Stevie. Surely you can figure something out with that. I’ve seen you perform, man, you’re fucking phenomenal.”

“My brain’s too fucked up now to play,” Steve quietly admits, “too many concussions. Coaches say I’m too befuddled to make heads or tails of where my targets are. Sports are over for me. I literally have nothing.” He blows out another wet, shaky breath. “So, I’m just saying, I’m sorry if I can’t make this up to you.”

“Steve,” Eddie says firmly, “look at me.”

At the demand, he’s met with Steve’s sad, hazel eyes. Clogged with discontent and miserableness he never thought he’d see out of a guy like Steve. Every part of him wants to reach out, cradle Steve’s face in his hands, wipe away his tears, caress his injuries with a tenderness he’s sure Steve has long forgotten. A part of him wants to hold Steve forever, no sign of letting go. 

Heart in his stomach, shattered yet beating, he speaks as softly as he possibly can manage. “You owe me nothing, Steve. You don’t owe me your best. You don’t owe me your money. You don’t owe me payback or…or a job on your back. There’s nothing that I want from you, I promise. But if you want to give me something…how about just being my friend, huh? Just sit down with me at lunch, share the food I brought, give me as much of a conversation as you want, and just…just let yourself be cared about.

“That’s what I’ll ask of you. If you feel the need to give me something, give me friendship. That’s it. Nothing more than that. Anything else that arises in the future, we worry about then. Bridges waiting to be crossed later, y’know? That’s doable, right? Just being a friend.”

Steve nods in slow understanding. “You wanna be friends with me?” He asks in a whisper. “You know that I’m not the best company, right? I’m…I’m stubborn and I’m bitchy and I—I know sometimes that I don’t use my brain half the time and I just say shit before I really think about it. And I…I’ve been a jerk and I’m—I’m sort of bullshit, Eddie. Is that really something you want in your life?”

Eddie merely shrugs. “You think I don’t have my own flaws? Everybody’s got shit. All of us have baggage. You’re just a teenager, as am I, and we’re still figuring shit out. At least you’re aware, right? Means you can try and…and be more thoughtful about what you do, how you act. And, besides, stop giving me reasons to leave you alone. I want to be your friend. I’ll say it from here to fucking Mars, man.” He raps his fingers against the table, darts his eyes to that sandwich. There’s not really a good way to keep drilling the want of it all into Steve’s head. So, finally, he relents. Gives Steve the step away that he wants. “Go ahead and eat, Steve. I’ll bring you a PB&J tomorrow, yeah? You like grape or strawberry jelly?”

A lapse of silence. Wherein they stare at each other. Two things work their way onto Steve’s face. Adamant protests that, in turn, are squashed and cornered into becoming stubborn acceptance. Jeez, Eddie can’t help but think, what’s it gonna take to get this guy to realize that people can care about him?

“Mm…strawberry, please,” Steve finally decides.

He simply nods. Looks out the window to the courtyard. Cafeteria white noise and Steve’s soft chewing surrounding him. The light hits him just as a cloud begins to move, yellow sunlight, warm and new. It marks the beginning of something unexpected, good, Eddie believes. “I think you’re a good guy, by the way,” he murmurs, “you probably don’t believe me now, but you will one day. Swear on it.”

🥪——————🥪

[writingoddess1125]

Is That English?

Team 141 + Alejandro reacting to a American with a HEAVY Texan accent

Your Codename: Gigs aka Giggles

Watching a TV show and got the idea 💡

If you can guess the show I got the idea from you get a cookie 🍪

Support me on Ko-Fi! Helps me make more stories

"This is dangerous" Price muttered, even for him this was a heavy mission. Especially if it ment going after Graves- Kate nodded in agreement, the debrief had been a tough one and it didn't look very positive either..

"You're right- but it seems like this is possible with one hell of a pilot" Kate said with a knowing smirk, Price chuckling at this as the rest of the team listened in.

"I take it you have someone in mind?" Kate smiled, looking at her watch.

"Should be here in a few minutes. Let's head out" She said, The 5 men following closely behind her as they could see a chopper heading their way already.

"Best Pilot I've ever meet- Despite some quirks, is a seasoned one who can defend not only themsleves but the entire team" Kate said with a smirk, Ghost raising a brow at this.

Price took a puff of his cigar with a raised a knowing look at the wording. "Quirks?"

Kate didn't say more than that, instead waving down the chopper that was approaching the group.

The group of men standing there to see this mystery pilot that was so highly praised. The chopper lowered and some light shouting could be heard as their pilot made their appearance.

Stepping out and all the boys couldnt help but stare in surprise- walking toward them with a bright Kool-Aid smile was a young women, pretty as the day was long and like Aphrodite had taken a mighty fine time sculpting her too. Price blinked in surprise, such a chipper young women who looked as fresh faced as a new born baby was their seasoned dangerous pilot?

"Fuckin hell" Ghost muttered, clearly not impressed or amused- it was hard to tell.

Once she approached Price held out his hand, ever the gentleman.

"Good meeting ya lass, Captian Price" He said as he held his hand out, once again another surprise of the strong grip and the firm shake.

"How y'all doin, Pi'lot (Y/N)- But Igo' by Gigs sir" Ghost this time coughed as he turned away, most likely the closest he got to a laugh as there was a blink from Price and his face scrunched.

"Wanna run that by me again Lass?"

She laughed at his bewildered face and lack of understanding.

"Gigs Sir, For Giggles. I'm ya Pi'lot sir"

"I got absolute'y no idea what the fuck she's saying- What magical language is th's?.." Gaz said, clearly speaking what the others were thinking as Soap just blinked trying to wrap his head around what was being said.

(Y/N) gave them a deadpan look- "Fuckin' Brit" She grumbled.

"Now that I understood" Soap laughed, Grinning from ear to ear at the pretty lady.

"No that right here is a Texan- Know them well" Alejandro said with a chuckle, stepping forward.

"Alejandro, I take it your from Texas Señora?" He said and she grinned widely, roughly patting his shoulder in affection.

"Damn straight"

"Texas? This we hearin now is a texas accent? Youre speaking English" Ghost mused, defiently never meeting someone with such a thick one. Gigs grinning at him and nodding.

"Thats right skully, red blooded engl'sh and all" She said with a wink at him making Gaz choke a laugh.

"Now Boys. We got us some baddi's to catch! No dilly dal!" She said with a laugh, clapping her hands in excitement as she ran off to load up the chopper to get the boys to their next mission.

Soap chuckled at this as he watched her walk away, staring at the sway of her ass, Only in America is seemed. Looking up at Ghost and the rest as he held his hands up-

"Ah think a'm into it"

[pure-incense]

Since my PSA about handling Summer with your team blew up quite a bit, I thought I'd make another about enjoying Halloween with them instead.

1. Perhaps one of the biggest ones I can give to start is DON'T CATCH OR PURCHASE GHOST TYPES, DARK TYPES, OR ANY OTHER "SPOOKY" POKEMON JUST FOR THE HOLIDAY. Every year, tons of these pokemon end up in shelters by December after countless people get them just for Halloween, and a good chunk of them end up there BEFORE Haloween, too! These pokemon are not only a commitment, but they don't inherently know how to celebrate human holidays, and may not like the attention or being reserved as a living decoration and act out.

2. Going hand in hand with the last one: Do not assume pokemon know how to celebrate the holiday. Wild pokemon do not know you're scaring them because it is a festive activity, and will react as though they're being attacked. Your pokemon may be scared of your costume or decorations. Your pokemon may mess up your costume or decorations. While ghost types seem a lot more common as Halloween grows near, this is because A) Fall is a lot of ghost types breeding season and B) Ghost types are almost like Halloween mascots so people let theirs out and whatnot. They are not appearing cause they wanna get their spooky on, but they do tend to enjoy being a little mischievous. A little bit. Do not drag random ghosts you don't know into your pumpkin smashing or house egging.

3: Be mindful of the fact that Haloween is most popular with literal children and seen as a holiday mostly only enjoyed by them. I know 80% of Rotumblr is hex maniacs and other sorts of goths, but you have to remember most people see it as a thing for kids, and there's gonna be a ton of kids out and about. I don't care how you're mindful about it, just be mindful about it. Remember that kids get very scared easily, and may not understand your pokemon is harmless. Remember that they might be too scared of your decorations to come up to your house. Remember that they will be trick or treating, and most houses are expecting to give candy to children only. This isn't to say you cannot enjoy Halloween as well, however you should remember that if you, a grown ass adult with no children, goes trick or treating alone there will be several houses that tell you no.

4. On that note, Be careful if you're taking your anyone Trick Or Treating. I know you're all tired of hearing "razor blades in candy" and candy being swapped for drugs, but do be careful with candy. If it looks like it's been open, has a hole in the wrapper, or otherwise tampered with? Don't eat it. Homemade treats? You don't know what's in it or if it was made in a clean environment, don't eat it. I know you hear this every year and nothing ever happens but please be careful anyways. It might not be drugs or metal, but there could be something else that makes you sick even if it's just some dirt. Also, while the trend of pokemon trick ir treating is getting more popular each year, many houses will probably not give your pokemon a treat unless they're with kids, and many houses do not have safe treats for most pokemon. Do not get upset, just move on. Not everyone cares about your fraxure like you do. Same rules of checking to make sure the candy hasn't been tampered with apply.

5. Don't make your pokemon do anything they don't want to do. Don't make them wear a costume, don't make them be a decoration, don't make them go hand out candy with you. If your pokemon is not enjoying the activity or is showing signs of annoyance or distress, do not force them to continue. I know cute maching trainer and pokemon costumes are trendy, but if your pokemon does not want to match, don't make them wear it.

6. Remember that Anti-Ghost type and Anti-Dark type sentiments still exist. There are many people who believe Halloween is evil and satanic, and take it out on the pokemon they believe to be the same during the holiday and the lead up to it. Do not leave your pokemon outside unattended. Be wary of areas where people are known to dislike dark and ghost types. Keep their pokeball on hand incase they're attacked so you can recall them safely and escape. I know Halloween is often proclaimed as the spooky holiday and looked at fondly by people online, but people offline do not always feel that way. It's a sad truth. All you can do is take the steps to prevent your Yamask from having It's mask stolen or someone hurting your Purloin.

7. Some regions celebrate Halloween differently. Do not get upset if they don't celebrate it like you're used to. Trick or Treating is only really a thing in Alola, Unova, and Galar. While Paldea and Kalos do enjoy Halloween with it being fun for adults and kids alike, Trick Or Treating isn't much of a thing. You just kinda have a good time. Trick Or Treating isn't a thing in Kanto, Johto, Hoenn, or Sinnoh either, with it being seen as more of an adult thing where adults dress up and party together there. I'm Unovan, though, so take this with a grain of salt. Of course, you know what your region is like, so this is mostly for people who have moved or are visiting for Halloween.

Feel free to add anything you think is important I didn't cover!

[vitaminseetarot]

Poll PAC: What Your Next Birthday Celebration Will Be Like 🎂🎉🎁

Sup y'all, welcome back to another PAC reading. This time I'm doing a special 1 year/birthday/poll topic of choice themed pick a card! This is also a special one as VitaminSee now has 300 followers! Holy crap thank you for your support everyone! I haven't been able to get on Tumblr for a while, so I apologize if it seems like I've dropped from the aether. Life is starting to enter its hectic phase right now! Thank you so much for your patience. I'm waiting for life things to straighten out (lol as if life ever does) before I go ahead and offer some basic paid readings, which I hope to do in May.

This topic is for the next birthday you have coming up, whether that's tomorrow or next year. For my selection, I was recently lucky to have found the Wild Wisdom Companion book among a vast pile of discounted books. It's based on the Wheel of the Year. I thought this deck was perfect for making piles themed around the progression of the year and how our birthdays respond to the passage of the seasons. Pick whichever one of the Spring themed card you like most down below:

Pile 1 - The Unfurling 🌱 Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊 Pile 3 - The Door 🗝 Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾

Pile 1 - The Unfurling

Sagittarius - Expand, Level Up, Shadow, Isolation; XVII Star, 3 of Cups, XXI World, Ace of Wands, 5 of Cups

Hello, pile 1! Your birthday is going to be the start of great expansion. Your first three oracle cards spell it out so clearly! Sagittarius is all about shooting for seemingly farfetched goals and striking the target anyway. There is so much growth going on in your pile. You're probably anticipating your next chapter to be one of reaching beyond the horizon and feeling ready to do so. Ideas or wishes that seemed impossible may be coming closer to being within your grasp. Your life is ready to take it up a notch immediately after your next birthday, where things may begin to feel like they're accelerating. Don't worry about the turbulence, it's all a part of the movement. Breaking out of your comfort zone may feel scary, but something about your next birthday will set off a chain of events that will propel you to a new phase of life.

I have a feeling that many who choose this pile will be in a transitory stage of life, like you're getting ready to start college or a new job around your birthday. It's not just another year older, this next one will be extra meaningful in terms of receiving something you've been longing for in quite some time. It's something you've been greatly eager to begin. I don't any sense that you'll be looking back too much once you go forward, since you'll be thrust rather quickly in your next chapter.

But it's still okay if you're experiencing anxiety over it, even if it's something you've really wanted. Anxiety, doubt, and fear are not necessarily indicators that something isn't right for you. It's normal to get cold feet in this context. A sprout breaking from its seed shell is no small feat; it requires a great amount of momentum and motivation. Congratulate yourself for having come this far. Let your birthday be a chance to celebrate this. Give yourself the opportunity to commemorate with friends, if they wanna help give you a birthday to remember then let them. They may feel the vibe as much as you will on that day. Don't be afraid to take that day trip out to a new place you've never seen.

What's interesting about the Isolation card is that it shows two cups. There is meanwhile a Friendship card in this deck with only one cup. So I don't know if the words were swapped with the images or what, but the sense I get is that you will very likely be in good company during your birthday. They may want to take you out dancing (the Ace of Wands is reminding me of disco lights). However, even in the midst of the event, you may feel the urge to hide away from the crowd. I'm picturing someone stepping out of a house during a party. You may need to catch your breath at times in order to process the emotions you're experiencing, as you have a lot of energetic, lit up cards just before the five of cups.

Again, getting in dark negative moods is normal when you're facing a big new stage is not indicative that things will go wrong if it's something you know you're looking forward to. If you end up spending most of the day with friends, find some space to be at peace by yourself so you can even out your feelings. These intense moods will come and go on their own, so make sure to stay balanced (and not too overly caffeinated lol) on your birthday.

Pile 2 - The Wind 🕊

Third House - Communication, A New Day, Ball Pits, Family; 10 of Swords, 5 of Cups, III Empress, Knight of Pentacles, 4 of Cups

How's it going pile 2? I couldn't help but notice you have two pairs of swallows in your reading. Birds may have some significance for you, maybe you'll go birdwatching or even get a pet bird. For a small number of you, the birthday could involve a plane flight out of home for a quick trip. Could you be visiting family members? There's a lot of communication going on, for sure. Even if you're not traveling out by flight, you may have family members show up to take you out somewhere. They may be insistent on seeing you, talking to you, and spending time with you. The phone might blow up first thing in the morning with notifications and voicemail.

But I'm seeing a lot of hesitance in your tarot cards. You may be feeling tired or burned out and not necessarily in the mood to celebrate. The previous year was a doozy for you so perhaps catching up on sleep is more of your priority. Ever get the feeling of wanting to sleep because life is overwhelmed and you're like, "I give up (for now)?" and call it a day? You need to give yourself a chance to recuperate around your birthday, before during and after. Have a break so you can fully recover and receive all that the coming year has to offer you.

That means letting loved ones in your life, be they bio family or chosen family, understand that you'd rather have a small get together or a chance to rest every now and then if you're invited out somewhere. If you choose to go out, there's nothing wrong with taking it slow and easy, or doing something casual like grabbing some ice cream and sitting by the riverside to ponder the next year. Communicate your feelings instead of bottling them up in an attempt to keep up with everybody else. Don't let anyone convince you of how you should celebrate, it's your day your rules!

Others of you who have a little more energy, a little more of that "last year sucks, I need to go out and do something fun to sweat it off!", I feel like the ball is emphasized here with Knight of Pentacles beneath Ball Pits. Some of you looking for more action and noise may choose to go to a ball game, or spend time at the arcade playing pinball with friends. It could even be mini golf. Whether you are the low energy (calm) or high energy (excited) seeking type, getting the chance to have some fun is important, as long as it feels right for you.

This is the pile most likely to get some kind of surprise, be that a party (high energy) or a surprise gift (low energy). There will be a sense of being pampered. Some of you may get a larger number of gifts than you may have expected. You may receive a very beautiful gift, something you may treasure for a long time. Whatever it may be, allow yourself to thoroughly enjoy it and express that joy. Let yourself embrace gratitude, being mindful of what you have now regardless of how your last year has been and how your next year will be. For your next birthday, try to focus on the present (in both meanings).

Pile 3 - The Door 🗝

South Node - Past, Let Your Light Shine, Bubble Gum, Winter; Ace of Cups, 9 of Swords, 3 of Pentacles, XIX Sun, Page of Wands

Hey pile 3! For your next birthday, I'm definitely seeing you go outside to celebrate. There may be an actual party held outdoors, or you might choose to go out somewhere. I'm seeing parks, possibly national parks or natural trails. I'm getting the feeling of warm sunshine, the weather will likely cooperate perfectly on your day. You could be cruising through town, going from store to store (the 3 of pentacles reminds me of a mall here). Your birthday feels expansive and adventurous, ready for something new.

A small number of you may wish to engage a little bit in the spotlight, or you may be placed into a position of receiving more attention on this day. If you wish to, your birthday would be a great day to showcase your talents or passions, since I'm picking up a bit of Leo energy in this pile. With lips in Bubble Gum, you could be giving a speech? I'm picturing an actual toast, if you feel the strong urge to speak out then do so, let yourself be heard. I'm also seeing people sing for you at restaurants, so if that isn't your style, it's best to find a place to eat that doesn't do that sort of thing.

This birthday could be like your own version of a New Year's Eve celebration. Some of you may actually be born in the winter or around New Year's, so holidays and birthdays could tie in together. You're wanting your birthday to stand out amidst the traditional festivities (I've known many people born around Christmas who hate having their birthday gifts thrown under the tree, so you're not alone in that frustration!). You may get the idea of doing something out of the ordinary. Let yourself take the spotlight--it's your special occasion!

There's a message in your pile of letting old things go as you step into a new age. Old things from the year prior may still be sticking onto you, old issues from unresolved matters may pop up. They could be on the more practical side, like needing to sign something or finish a task on time. Be ready to step into the future unafraid--now is the time to shed the baggage. Your birthday can be the fresh start to a bright new trip around the sun, but you gotta give yourself that chance. If something needs to be resolved, and you got the time, tie up your loose ends beforehand so it's not weighing on you as you celebrate.

Your birthday is a threshold to an exciting new time for you. It may be like a breath of fresh air. I keep hearing "refreshed" and "invigorated", so this may be how you feel at the end of your birthday. You may do something that makes you think, "huh, why don't I do this more often?" That could be the key for you to step into something brand new. Will spending time with your friends refresh you, or going to a concert and discovering a new band that you will fall in love with as it warms up the show? Or may you desire to spend more time out in nature? Lean into what lights you up, listen to what engages you, and move from there.

Pile 4 - The Alchemist 🍾

Imum Coeli - Roots, Snow Day, Forest, Transformation; 3 of Cups, 6 of Cups, Ace of Swords, XII Hanged Man, 8 of Swords

What's up, pile 4? Your birthday is looking to be the absolute warmest and coziest out of all the piles. Many of you may identify strongly with introversion. I'm sensing a lot of you have your birthday around autumn or the cooler times of the year when most people are ready to bundle up in blankets or sit by the wood stove while awaiting the first signs of frost. Many of you may get a lucky chance to stay at home instead of needing to work or go to school, so you'll have the day off to plan out what you want to do. Others of you may desire to take time off if you have the chance to, I would go for it especially if you've been feeling the need to rest. You may live near trees or desire to be out in nature as a way to kick back.

I'm seeing someone invite a few friends over to watch old reruns of favorite shows while baking. It could be a gathering of closest friends, I'm not getting the sense that it'll be a big to-do bash. This day will be short, sweet, and simple. It's a good day for doing hobbies or spending time indulging in the gifts you were given. Some of you may rather spend time with family or those you live with instead of inviting people over. You and your family may share a special way of celebrating birthdays, I don't know of any birthday specific cultural traditions from the top of my head but you may have special rituals unique to you and your family. Either way, I get that you'll have a modest celebration that's nevertheless full of camaraderie and relaxing activities.

The description for the Alchemist card says "Allow Transformation", and you have another Transformation card. You may be doing a lot of transmuting on the inside, working through old stubborn patterns and limiting beliefs around this time. I'm seeing the ball of flame near the snow as if you're melting old self-sabotaging blockages away to make room for more growth in your coming year. This flame, this transmuting energy, is making way for the new to arrive.

The Hanged Man being tangled up in vines beneath a forest makes me think that you've been hung up on something that needs to be let go. You must prune in order to effectively grow. Too much in a small space can lead to cramming and confusion. You must deal with the thoughts tangling themselves up in your mind before cultivating the thoughts you want in their place. Changes may happen slowly on the outside, but when certain patterns are fully cleared out things can really take off.

So, for example, let's say you've wanted to sign up for a ceramics workshop for your birthday, or spend the day cleaning house (if you happen to find cleaning therapeutic). To do so, you'll need to not only free up your schedule, but free your mind of thoughts trying to convince you that you can't learn or can't clean. Perhaps it's difficult to not see the forest as just a bundle of trees. But a forest is more than trees, it's an entire system that supports itself in a perpetual cycle. Don't fill up your days with too many tasks, especially on your birthday. Pace the day with both the things you want to do and the things you have to do. The time around birthday will show you how to integrate the best of both worlds. We can have cake and eat it too, it's just a matter of pacing and doing things one at a time.

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2024, @VitaminseeTarot ™

[thewintersoldierdisaster]

Hi bestie I’m happy to know you feel the love ❤️ I have come here today with a request about Mat’s slutty shorts from liana’s latest video. They deserve all the love

F1/NHL anon

ohhh slutty short season is my favorite season and i have thoughts 😈

mat has stupidly thick thighs, a big dick, and a hockey ass

so

3-5” inseam slutty shorts summer is your favorite season

the fabric strains over his thighs and ass, especially when he’s sitting or working out

you love to tease him to see how much of his dick you can see outlined against the front of his shorts before he’s ripping the fabric from his body to let his dick spring free from its confines

it usually doesn’t take too long to see the perfect outline and you’ll trail your fingers over the impression, watching his dick twitch behind the fabric

it’s easy enough to pull his shorts down and let the waistband rest under his balls so you can tease him with your hands and mouth

the leg holes are tight around his thighs and you like to trace over the bulge of muscle and veins there too

you love to sit on his lap and feel the hard press of his against your ass, grinding down on him to work him up and get pre cum dampening the front of his shorts

the best part of the slut shorts is how easy it is to ride his thighs at any given moment

mat will be lounging on the couch or sitting at the table and you’re there immediately

legs straddling his thighs, bare cunt hot on his skin

mat’ll smirk and keep his hands off of you, calling you needy and greedy and slutty as you grind yourself over his thigh

your arousal gets his leg wet and slicks down the hair on his leg, an easy glide for you

he’ll flex his thigh muscle to give you something to work with

his leg hair catches your clit and you’re whining, falling apart on his leg, basically humping him

mat will pull the hem of his shorts up even higher, outlining his dick and balls and making your mouth water

instead of helping you get yourself off, he grips his cock roughly, grinding the palm of his hand over the stiff length through his pants

“wanna touch you,” you moan, reaching for him and sliding your cunt further down his bare thigh

your hands slip under the waistband of his shorts, using his stomach as leverage with one hand to work your hips and gripping him with the other hand

you’re barely coordinated enough to get yourself off, let alone the both of you

so mat takes pity and grips your hips with big hands, dragging you back and forth over his thigh, bouncing his leg and flexing the muscle to help

“so pretty when you ride my thigh,” he grunts, eyes glazed as he watches the slick trail of your arousal glisten on his leg

“fuckin love these shorts,” you reply, grinding your hips down and completely falling apart with a gush of fluid

mat’s shorts are soaked from your arousal and his come since you jerked him off inside his pants

later he makes you ride his other thigh so it “doesn’t get jealous”

literally every time he wears the shorts, you’re in his lap, perched on his thigh, or settled in between his legs and mouthing his cock over his pants challenging yourself to make him come inside them and ruin the fabric

he buys like multiple pairs a year and every summer you make it your mission to destroy them all with yours and his orgasms

slightly more wholesome, you make fun of him for the band of a tan line since he always starts the summer in 5” inseams and then switches to 3” in like july after he’s already gotten a decent tan going

[lovrsm]

ɢᴏʀɢᴇᴏᴜꜱ

sum: in which your brother invites you to a party, and oh god, you're so glad you accepted.

word count: 2.4k

pairing: charles leclerc x singer!reader

warnings: drinking, curse words & insinuation of cheating.

Spotify - Apple Music

ᴍᴀɪɴ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪ - ᴘᴀʀᴛ ɪɪ - ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴀᴜ

"you should take it as a compliment that I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk"

Monaco was such a lovely place, when my brother had told me about it I thought he was exaggerating. I mean, it wouldn't be that weird if he had, he's always excited about everything, he's the kind of guy who makes you see as if the world is made of bright rainbow colors, and I believe him.

I arrived from the airport about 2 hours ago, I was on my way to the hotel where Lando was staying, he told me he got another room for me. How could I say no?

He called me yesterday at about 3pm

"No, I'm telling you, IT WILL BE THE PARTY OF THE YEAR!" he screamed over the phone, making me laugh.

"Lando, I just came from signing with my sponsors, they expect me to write more songs in a 4 months period, you know how complicated that's going to be?" I exhaled, taking off my heels, tossing them across the room as I lay down on the couch. I was exhausted.

"C'mon, you'll have plenty of things to write songs about, look, I can already hear it!" he started to hum a catchy tone, making the corners of my mouth go up. "Lando... Jake won't be able to be there, god, I don't even know if he'll want me to be there, you know?"

I could already see him in the doorway telling me where am I.

Sure, he was on canada filming, but what if he finds out?

"I'm not even letting you say no, I'm already booking tickets, get all you need, you can even shop here if you want, I just want my sister with me tomorrow night with me"

"You better go get me at the airport Lando Norris."

"I wont let you down peanut" He chuckled and hung up on me.

Well he kinda let me down, he couldn't come get me due to some last minute meeting he had. I don't really mind, I know having a busy life is exhausting.

I thanked the taxi driver giving his a generous tip, my bodyguard helped me get out my suitcases, I had a hoodie and black sunglasses, he had a casual outfit so we wouldn't stand out.

For being a top artist in the whole world, I did not like having that much security. But it was an obligation, not an option, I had to stick to what my manager and team asks me to do.

_

After a busy day of shopping and walking around the streets, I could barely feel my feet. I had gotten a beautiful short red dress. Perfect fit for the occasion. It was just 7p.m. and Lando had texted me he was on his way to my dorm.

The door opened to reveal my very festive brother in the other side "You're here!" "I'm here!" I screamed back jumping into his arms.

We catched up, he was telling me about how he checked the track, for the next season, since we were in December. Although I never really understood racing, when we were kids our parents would take us out to the karts, and I'd always crash while he was beating all of us who tried to play.

He focused on sports and I focused on music, since I was 12 years old I learned to play the guitar. My mom used to tell me that I was a genius at writing songs, I guess many people think the same.

Time passed by too fast, with him I felt like an hour were just 5 minutes.

After hating each other all our childhood, we became closer than ever after my career and his took off. I think it was because we were twins, we hated it when people said we acted the same, because physically we are not alike at all. I am so much prettier, obviously.

it was already 8 o'clock "I'm leaving, I should get ready, do you wanna come with me?"

"I'd stopped talking to you if you let me get there alone, I know none of these guys Lando."

"I'm sure you'll know somebody miss famous." He bumped my shoulder and left my room, entering to his which was next door.

I took my time getting ready. God, I love being a woman. I took a bath, fixed my hair, put on my make-up and finally there was the dress, hanging on the bathroom door. I think it is one of the most beautiful dresses I have ever seen in my life.

How did I manage to put on the mini dress correctly by myself? I don't even know, but I couldn't stop looking at myself in the mirror. God if only someone could look at me.

Oh wait! There is someone, I grabbed my phone to click his name, my phone started to ring. I waited patiently, but he did not answer. So I called him once more, this time he did answer.

I heard loud music and singing in the back. "What do you need?" he asked, I could hear the irritation in his voice. "I wanted to hear from you, we haven't talked-"

"We talked last Monday, wasn't that enough? I'm busy." He interrupted me.

"Where are you?" I asked intrigued this time.

"Uhm... I'm in the bar with some friends"

"Oh and that's just more important than your girlfriend?" I raised my voice at him, I was now sitting the edge on the bed.

"Look, I don't want to fight, just call me later." He said, basically hanging the phone. "Jake..." I said before he could do so.

"What?" He sounded desperate. "Take care." I said.

"Ok" He hung. I felt disgusted, why? not idea, I just felt dirty, as if I was forcing him to talk to me. I took some deep breathes so I could calm my nerves down.

I don't even want to go out anymore.

I tried hard not to cry, I wasn't going to ruin my makeup over some small argument, I'm sure tomorrow we'll be alright, we always end up alright.

It felt as an eternity till I heard a knock on my door, I quickly grabbed my bag, looked in the mirror once more to fix my dark wavy hair, and rushed to the door. I opened it, in the side was Lando, his back on the wall while he was looking at his phone.

He turned it off and looked at me, I smiled "Ready to go Peanut?"

"Lets go"

_

We finally got to the club, electronic music was blasting off, people were already drunk, and boy they didn't even tried to hide it.

We had to basically run to the VIP area, I didn't said anything to my bodyguard about this, besides, he can use a break.

Lando was immediately greeted by everyone who was in the room. "LANDO!" A man screamed to him "Ayee, we're here!" He said hugging the man, and patting him in the back. "you're so late, you were the only ones missing!"

"we're here Pierre, I'd like to present to you all my sister!" He hugged me by the side and I waved with a smile on my face. It seemed that most of them recognized me, because some of them just stood there in shock "Hey everyone, ready to get wasted?" I laughed, that made them less tense and cheered, lifting their cups.

Lando gave a me a sweet kiss in my head, "see, you'll be fine, have some fun peanut!" I let go and we both went our own way.

I started to talk to a girl, her name is Kika, I learnt she was the girlfriend of a guy named Pierre Gasly. I've heard about him but no one ever told me how fun his girlfriend was!

"Girl, you should try this margarita, the most wholesome thing you'll have in your life!"

She was not kidding with that. In a few minutes, I had asked for... about 5 of them, or maybe just 13.

I had talked to everyone in the room by 10 pm, they were all so fun, and the energy was of another planet.

"Yeah, and then Max would make that grumpy face. I swear he looks like and old man!"

"very mature Lando, so mature." I bursted out laughing. "LECLERC HAS ARRIVED!" I heard someone scream in the entrance, and in seconds half of the group was there greeting the guy.

I decided I was going to take something else than a margarita. I walked up to the bartender, who definitely did not understood me. I don't know if I was speaking too softly or if I was just way too drunk to talk, but I decided to leave, I turned around and bumped into someone.

I was about to loose my balance till his arms were wrapped around my waist, I was able to stand straight. "are you alright?" he asked.

I looked into his eyes, green eyes "what?"was all I could manage. "Are you alright?" He asked again, I now noticed a thick accent, I bursted out laughing for that.

He looked so confused, he let go and chuckled with me. For a second it was as if the whole club was quiet. I looked again at him, and I immediately looked down at the floor. He grabbed my hand, the lights went out for a second and my world spun. My legs were about to give up.

His touch was... it was, god I can't even say it.

"I'm Charles, what's your name?"

I bit my lip, what went out of my mouth was definitely not what I wanted to say. "Do you always talk like that?" I asked a bit to seriously, I chuckled so that I wasn't that rude.

"Yeah, my first language isn't english."

"Huh." I said, I felt as if he had a goddamn magnetic field and it was pulling me towards him, I couldn't stand it.

I ran off to the other side of the room, leaving him standing alone next to the bar.

_

All night.

All night I couldn't stop thinking about him, his hand touching my hand in the darkened room...

and I made fun of the way he talked.

I'm never drinking again.

Yet there I was, in the bar once more, asking for whiskey. Mature, so mature.

I kept bouncing back and forth between the people there, once I saw Charles walking to my way, I would ran to the other side of the room.

I have a boyfriend for gods sake! I can't be thinking these unhealthy things about him.

But, I mean, can you blame me?

Look at him.

His first two buttons were unbottened which made him look so attractive. And you should see his dimples, he's so gorgeous it actually fucking hurts!

"So you're not going to talk to me?" I heard a voice behind my ear. His chest touching my back. I didn't move, but I did answer.

"Who said I wasn't going to?" I asked playfully, with a grin on my face, knowing he couldn’t see me.

He hummed in my ear, before he turned me to look him in the eye, he grabbed my neck, but he didn't kiss me. Instead, he brought his lips back to my ear.

"Then why do you keep running, huh?" His hot breath sent a shiver down my spine. I was dumbfolded by his actions, he took a step back to look at me.

I looked into his eyes, I was absolutely taking him in. I looked at his dimples because of the grin he had in his face. His eyebrows, his slightly sweaty hair, with pieces of it falling into his face.

I couldn't help myself, I noticed how he looked into my eyes, and then to my mouth.

What if..?

I asked to myself, I closed my eyes and got closer to him, waiting for a kiss. But he grabbed me by my hips pulling me back.

"You're far too drunk, ma chou" I heard and opened my eyes, he gave me a sympathetic smile. I felt dumb for a second, but after seeing his face... I think I might be falling.

"Why don't we leave, would you like that?" I hugged him, my head in his neck. I nodded as fast as I could. He grabbed me and in a second, we were in his car.

For sure the alcohol got to my head that night.

_

Taglist

[thesupernaturalhouse]

So I cant.....I can't anymore, Stolas fucking sucks

Season 2 as a whole sucks and gets rid of a lot of character depth that characters had in s1. But this post isn't about that-

I was recording clips for an edit, and you know in ep9 s2 when Stolas tells Blitz about "you couldn't be bothered to come save me"

Yeah.....Blitz TOLD him why he was unable to go and save him. He was even genuinely concerned and sent milly and moxxie in his place

You wanna know what Blitz said??

"Ah shit Stolas I can't today- I'm sorry I am literally on my way to take loona in for her very important hellvis S-H-O-T" and "it takes years to book it, it took 5 for me to get this one"

Aka, a rabies shot, which, racist will immediately kill you. You DON'T survive that once you get it and symptoms start showing up, it's a death sentence, and considering Loona is basically a sentient/anthropomorphic dog, if she catches it her survival rate is probably 0 percent

And you know what? Stolas gets it, and then in ep9, "the one who tried to kill em and you couldn't be BOTHERED to come help me"

Bitch he told you?? He sent people in his place?? He was getting his kid a really important shot?? Yiu selfish motherfu-

I hate this bird

I hate this fucking bird so much more now

This is just the finale straw for me that breaks the camels back tbh like......

Apology tour is just, Stolas and the narritive/writing basically gaslighting Blitz and its gross

I liked Stolitz and Stolas in s1, it wasnt a healthy relationship. The circumstances for both characters weren't super good, but it understood that and actually showed those flaws, It set up these characters future arcs

Season 2 is, frankly, a shit show. It has its moments, but ep1 ruined Stolas and Stolitz for me, and it just keeps on getting worse and it isn't even in a way of "Oh its rough, but they can bounce back

This is gaslighting. This is hypocrisy. This is guilt tripping. This is abuse.

Instead of building off of season 1 it is retconning it, it is destroying the continuity and timeline, it's making these characters so much worse then what they were

Instead of having Stolas face actual consequences for his actions the narritive is backtracking and going "Oh actually its not his fault" over and over again

Oh he cheated in the marriage? No worries Stella is a bitch so it's okay

Oh, he's neglecting his daughter despite them already having this arc? Oh, it's fine she just needs to cut him some slack

Oh he constantly belittled Blitz and made him uncomfortable in season 1? Actually it was all of Blitzs fault for misreading the signs of love!

He is constantly shown looking down and abusing other imps like his butler? Oh its fine, they aren't the main characters so what he does to them isn't important!!

Another thing is that Blitz tells Stolas how he feels. He points out his shitty actions. And what does Stolas do? He fucking cries like Blitz is being a big ol means for no reason

This trial is just going to further victimize him and make him seem in the right. The fact the sins might even be brought into it is also so fucking stupid.

The writing went from a 8 to a 1 with the characters. And it's only a 1 here because there are some good ideas in s2.

Their basically trying to cover up, retcon, Stolas's actions instead of having him deal with consequences and go through real development

Honestly the best ending for Stolitz would be Blitz realizing Stolas is toxic as fuck to him and just, not contacting him again. Stolas could get some real consequences in that trial and move on and become better in his own right

Butttt of course since Viv likes them so much it's gonna be dragged on for fucking seasons and then their gonna get together.

If I were to rewrite the season, I wouldn't even try to rewrite Stolitz.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 5 (Rumba Part 1)

Closed Position Masterlist ||| Main Masterlist Dieter Bravo x OFC (Katarina)

Series Summary: Dieter Bravo, now sober, was looking to change his bad boy image after hitting rock bottom. His team hoped that having him join the nationally televised family friendly dance competition, Dancing with the Stars, would be a good first step, if they can keep him out of trouble. 

Katarina Stamos expected her last season as a professional dancer on the show to go the same as it had for the past thirteen seasons. That all changed when she was partnered with the infamous Dieter Bravo. 

Dieter and Katarina are reluctantly thrown into their partnership and must learn to work together to succeed in the competition. In the process they form a deeper connection beyond the dance floor that neither anticipated.

Chapter Word Count: 9.5k

👉 Warnings: Themes dealing with intimate partner violence (not from Dieter), past alcohol abuse, and past drug abuse. There will be fluff, tears, spicy language, and smut. This will be a slow burn. Read at your own risk. Dieter Bravo comes with his own warnings.

Chapter Quote: “Are we talking about orgasms right now?”

Dieter’s POV  By the time we got to the hotel, I felt like a zombie and was beyond ready to pass out.  My patience was wearing thin with the clerk at the check-in desk as she went into a rehearsed speech about the amenities that the hotel offered. I was having none of it and completely cut her off. “I’m sorry, we’ve just gotten off a five hour flight. We really just wanna sleep right now.”

She gave me a bright smile, “Totally understandable Mr. Bravo. So, you’ll be staying in the South Loft on the 16th floor. The elevators are just over there. Do you need help with your bags?”

I shook my head as Kat began to tap on the countertop. She seemed just as impatient as she asked, “I’m sorry, but where will my room be?”

The desk clerk looked between the two of us somewhat nervously, “Well, you’re both in the South Loft.”  

My brows furrowed. Did I hear that right? No fucking way. 

“Excuse me?” I blurted out, glancing over at Kat. She looked like she was going to be sick.  

The hotel clerk stammered, “You were b-both booked in the South Loft. Is that not right?”  

“We can’t share a room,” Kat interjected, wide-eyed as she shook her head.  

The clerk looked almost relieved at Kat’s words, “No. I-It’s a two-bedroom suite with shared common space. You’ll each have your own bedroom and bathroom.” 

I relaxed some. I could handle that if Kat were ok with it. Not that I would have minded sharing a room with her either, but I didn’t want her to be uncomfortable.  

I watched the tension leave Kat’s body, “I guess that would be ok…it’s no different than being across the hall from each other. Right?” she asked, meeting my gaze.  

I shrugged, “I’m fine with whatever makes you comfortable.” 

Kat nodded, “Yeah, I think that’ll be ok. I can deal with that.” 

The front desk clerk looked relieved now, giving us a tentative smile. “Ok. Great. The only other thing I wanted to mention is that one of our conference spaces, the Harbor Room, was booked for the entire week as well. You can access it as needed.”  

I gave her a tired smile, “Sounds great. We’ll worry about that later, I need sleep.”  

I grabbed my key card, turned, and walked off without another word. I heard Kat snort behind me, I assume over my abruptness. She murmured a quick “thank you” to the desk clerk before catching up to me. We were quiet as we waited for the elevator. I stole a few glances in Kat’s direction. She was staring at the floor, seemingly lost in her thoughts until the ding of the elevator door opening caught her attention. When we stepped into the elevator, I noticed she was avoiding my gaze.  

“Are you sure you’re ok with sharing a suite? I can get a separate room.”  

She nodded, “Yeah, it’s not a big deal. I swear. I’m just tired and achy. I need to stretch out and relax.”   

The doors opened to our floor, and we quickly found our way to our suite. We both stood in the center of the living room area taking it in. It was a lot bigger than I was expecting.  

“Wow. This is…fucking huge.” Kat said in disbelief. 

I chuckled, “Yeah, and here I was worried we were gonna be cramped in on top of each other.”  

Kat’s mouth hung open slightly, before laughing nervously. “Yeah, I guess that won’t be a problem.”  

I dropped my duffle and moved to check out the two bedrooms, realizing the second one seemed to be a master. “This one has a big ass soaking tub in it. You take it.”  

She looked like she was about to argue, but I cut her off. “No, you take it. I won’t use it.” 

She smiled gratefully, “Thank you. I appreciate that.”  

I walked over, grabbed Kat’s bag off her shoulder and the rolling suitcase standing beside her and moved to deposit them in the master bedroom as she gave me a disapproving look. She walked in behind me, arms crossed over her chest as she looked around the room. Her eyes were drawn upward to the reflective metal panels on the ceiling that might as well be mirrors. Her brows furrowed, “That’s a little extra.”  

I snorted out a laugh, “Adds to the entertainment value of the space, I’m sure.”  

She arched a brow in my direction, a smile tugging at her lips as her eyes looked me up and down. What’s going through your head right now? There was something about the way she looked at me. It had my thoughts going straight to the gutter. The gutter that had what equates to a mirrored ceiling. I felt my dick twitch. So much for being tired.  

Her smirk shifted to a smile, “I’m sure it does.”  

She turned and walked out into the living room area, and I followed. She paused, staring toward the corner nearest to the room I planned to take. I glanced in the same general direction, my eyes landing on the rolling bar cart. She shook her head, “I’ll take care of that. Go get some rest. You’re gonna need it more than me.”  

I moved to her side, “You really don’t have to worry about that. It doesn’t bother me.”  

She shrugged, “Doesn’t matter. The studio should’ve made sure that stuff was removed. Last thing you need is the hotel staff spreading gossip. Now…go sleep.”  

She wasn’t wrong. I loved that she cared enough to think of that. I nodded, agreeing with her assessment, “Yes ma’am.”  

I grabbed my bags, lugging them toward my room, then turned on my heel, “Oh umm, it looks like I need to be at the studio around noon to start reviewing the skits. I’d love it if you would join me. I wouldn’t mind having your input.”  

Her eyes widened in surprise at my request. A small smile crept across her face as she nodded, “Yeah, I’d like that.”  

I gave her a toothy grin in response. I rubbed the back of my neck and looked down at the ground, now feeling a little nervous. “Alright. Great. Imma go to sleep then. I’ll probably get up around 10.”  

I was suddenly feeling awkward and out of my element. Sharing a space with someone was a whole new experience for me and I wasn’t sure what the proper protocols were. I abruptly turned and headed toward my room, momentarily struggling to get my luggage through the doorway. I thought I heard Kat snicker behind me as I shut the door.  

My room wasn’t as extravagant as Kat’s. It didn’t have a soaking tub or reflective ceiling, but it had a plushy king bed and TV, which was all I needed. After a quick bathroom break, I undressed down to my boxer briefs and climbed into bed. I was so fucking exhausted, but I couldn’t turn my mind off. So much had transpired in the past week - in the past few hours even. I couldn’t help analyzing it all.  

I wondered what happened between Kat and Alec. She had been acting odd since Thursday, so I figured whatever happened had to have been around that time. I was tempted to ask her that morning but didn’t want to pry. As long as she seemed ok physically, I could handle waiting until she was ready to talk about it.  

She surprised me later that evening. I had been working on another painting (of her) when the Instagram likes started to roll in. I wasn’t sure how to take it. How did she end up on my page? Did a random post pop up in her feed and she went from there? Or had she been thinking about me and sought it out? I smiled to myself, deciding to be bold and return the favor, going through and liking all of her posts, except the ones that Alec was in. Fuck that guy. I wondered, no hoped, that it would spark a response from her. I was not disappointed.    

What followed had me feeling equal parts giddy and so fucking turned on. I knew that I was probably pushing it with the subtle flirting, but she was completely into it. I don’t think she would have sent me the picture of her wet and bare soap covered legs if she hadn’t been. When that text came through, I stopped breathing and got hard instantly. It was so unexpected, and immediately had my mind wondering what sex with her would be like. That was all quickly shut down when she went cold on me, ending the conversation abruptly. It threw me off my game and took me back to wondering what was going on with her. My only conclusion, there was trouble in paradise, and she wanted out and didn’t really know how to handle things. I could work with that. I could be patient and wait for her. She could take all the time she needed and if she wanted to engage in a little harmless flirting in the meantime, I was here for it.  

I got the call about SNL the following morning. As excited as I was about the opportunity, my only thoughts were of Kat. My priority was dancing with her, and I made that known. Lenny was convinced he could make both things happen, so he reached out to Stacia and Joe. They were willing to play, but at what cost? And did I really care if it meant I got to do it with Kat? No, I didn’t. When Lenny called back with a half-concocted plan, I was beyond ecstatic that it was even a possibility, but only because it meant spending a week in New York with Kat. I had honestly expected her to turn it down and had already resigned myself to that fact. Especially if there was some sort of drama going on with her and Alec. I knew she wouldn’t want to leave town in the middle of that.  

However, she didn’t turn it down. I could tell as soon as she walked into the rehearsal studio that she had made a decision and was avoiding the topic. Her playful expression made me think that perhaps she was going to accept the offer, but I didn’t want to get my hopes up. The torture of waiting for her to finally answer me was almost agonizing. The moment the smile spread across her face; I knew. There was something about her that morning, her entire vibe had shifted, and I couldn’t really pinpoint how or why.

After that, it felt like the wall between us was beginning to crumble even faster. Of course I didn’t try to stop it, if anything, I tried to help dismantle it a little faster. I had definitely been pushing the boundaries, but she wasn’t giving me any indications that it bothered her. There were even some instances where it felt like she had gotten out her own little hammer and chisel to help bring it down on her side. I could see it in the way she looked at me when she thought I wasn’t paying any attention or in the way she responded to my blatant flirting. She was definitely interested but holding back.  

While we were in hair and makeup for Monday’s show, it really hit me that whatever had happened between Kat and Alec was a big deal this time. The way she reacted to his presence really jarred me and I wanted so badly to pull her into my arms to comfort her. There wasn’t really anything I could do without calling attention to us though. I had been meaning to ask her about being Zee’s secondary contact for several days, so I thought that might serve as a nice distraction, and also act as a cover for the emotional moment she was having.  

The distraction seemed to do the trick. She appeared to be much more relaxed after that, ignoring his presence until we left the room. I took her hand once we entered the hallway, immediately noticing that she still had her engagement ring on. I would be lying if I said my stomach didn’t have a sinking feeling with that realization. My first thought was that I had misread things, thinking it wasn’t as bad as I had thought.  

She shocked me after that, pulling me into a tight embrace just outside of her dressing room and thanking me for getting her through whatever that episode was. The way she nuzzled into my neck and inhaled deeply said so much. She felt comfortable and safe with me. I could sense it and took pride in it. I knew she didn’t feel that with Alec, the one person who should be able to give her that much and it made me absolutely sick. I made a point not to leave her side after that. Something was obviously going on and I didn’t want to leave her to deal with it alone.  

The tension between Kat and Alec seemed to be reaching a boiling point during the professionals' dress rehearsal. I couldn’t hear what was said, but I could see them having some sort of exchange in the middle of the dance floor. For once, Alec actually looked unsure of himself. I could tell Kat had put him in his place based on his body language - flinching at her words. I felt a surge of pride in the moment. I was proud of her for having the courage to stand up to him. I just hoped he wouldn’t try to take it out on her later.  

Kat seemed to be more at ease and fully focused on our performance after that. We got through it, receiving high scores again. I was excited about the scores, but my mind was more focused on what came after - leaving with Kat for a week in New York. It was all I could think about as I moved around my dressing room, changing and packing up the things I needed to take with me.  

I moved to crack the door open for Kat to come in when she was ready and overheard one of the other couples in the hallway saying something about Kat and Alec arguing. I felt a rush of panic as I pulled the door open further only to have the two of them turn to look at me with wide eyes. When I looked down toward Kat’s dressing room door, I saw Alec’s retreating form going in the opposite direction. I hurried down the hall, texting Kat as I went asking her to let me in. So many things went through my mind during those seconds. All of the worst-case scenarios of how he possibly could have hurt her.    

She seemed ok when she opened the door. However, that didn’t do anything to dampen my concern. I could see how upset she was, and I wanted to do nothing more than hold her and make it all go away. I didn’t hesitate to pull her into my arms, causing the tension to disappear from her body. I hugged her tightly, getting lost in her scent and how amazing it felt to hold her in such an intimate way. I wanted that with her. I wanted her, in every way.  

I was equally parts pissed and elated when I got the text that our ride to the airport had arrived. I didn’t want to let her go, but I also wanted to get her as far away from Alec as possible. During the ride, I could sense that Kat seemed lost in her thoughts. I reached over to give her hand a comforting squeeze, immediately realizing that something was missing. My thumb seemed to have a mind of its own as it rubbed over her knuckles. I thought my mind was playing tricks on me as my eyes dropped down to look at her hand, needing to make sure I wasn’t imagining things. The ring was gone. The ring that had been on her finger during every second that we had spent together was really gone.

When my eyes finally met her gaze, I nearly got lost in the emotions swirling there as my own threatened to swallow me whole. I turned to look out the window, worried she could hear all of the thoughts screaming at me in my head. This was a big fucking deal. She was finally done with him. It was over. Would she be willing to give me a chance now? Could I be good enough for her? Did I even deserve her? I had so many thoughts and feelings within a span of 30 seconds that it nearly gave me whiplash. I knew that I couldn’t possibly be worthy of her, but I would absolutely never stop trying to be.  

I moved to lace my fingers through the tops of hers, hoping it conveyed what I was feeling. I never wanted to let go, and I never would as long as she allowed me to hold on. At that moment, I knew this week was going to change things between us in a big way. There was no way it couldn’t. Add this revelation to the fact that we had been given one of the most intimate dances to rehearse for this week and I knew I was a goner. I wasn’t sure how long I could hold out, but I also needed to make sure that things moved at Kat’s pace. I didn’t want to scare her off by moving too fast. I was also afraid that she would turn me down. If that happened, it could possibly ruin everything and reinforce that wall between us that we had both been so diligently chipping away at.  

As I laid in bed, willing my mind to turn off, my final thoughts were of what the week would bring. How was this going to go? I had a feeling the dance rehearsals were going to be very different and would end up being our downfall. We would be able to completely lose ourselves in the emotions of the dance without the worry about prying eyes from passer byers. Without that tiny barrier to hold me back, I wasn’t sure how long I could hold out before making my feelings known. The prospect of that both excited me and freaked me the fuck out. I just hoped I didn’t blow it.  

When my alarm went off, it took me a minute to remember where I was. I had completely knocked out and slept hard. I sat up, feeling groggy and hot under the heavy duvet. I turned, planting my feet on the floor, leaning forward with my elbows resting on my knees as I rubbed the sleep from my eyes. “Ugh, what have you gotten yourself into, Bravo.”  

I could already feel my anxiety ramping up, worried about how things were going to go with the SNL cast. Last time I was on the show, I hadn’t exactly made the best impression. Even though the episode received all sorts of attention for my performance, things behind the scenes were rough. At least from what little I could remember. I was pretty out of it for most of that week, turning up late or not at all on the days I was too coked out. I’m also fairly certain I was a dick to several of the cast members. Yet, like always, I pulled it together for the final performance and killed it, to everyone’s shock.  

I had an ulterior motive for asking Kat to come with me. I was nervous as fuck about how this was going to go. I thought it might be nice to have someone there I knew who would be supportive and maybe even act as a buffer with the rest of the cast. She had a way of bringing out the best side of me too, and I was going to need all the help I could get in that area. I wanted so badly to make a good impression and to make up for the chaos that I caused last time. I knew that wasn’t going to be easy.  

After pulling myself up off the bed, I took a quick shower, which helped alleviate the grogginess I was feeling. I made a point to dress nice and fix my hair. I even threw on a little cologne. Last time I was here, I showed up at the studio in my pajamas and robe, looking like the hot mess that I was. I wanted to make sure to make a point that that guy was no longer present. I’d be lying if I said it was all for work though. I wanted to look good for Kat too. Now that Alec is out of the picture, I couldn’t help hoping that she might actually give me a chance if I played my cards right.  

Once I was finished getting ready, I walked out into the living room area to find Kat unloading some breakfast items onto the dining table. I furrowed my brows, “Didn’t you get any sleep?”  

She shook her head, still looking down at the bag as she pulled food out, “Not really. I tried for like an hour, then gave up. I got us some breakfast and coffee.”  

I moved to stand next to her, surveying the breakfast options she had just laid out. When I glanced back in her direction, I realized her eyes were slowly taking me in. Her gaze eventually met my raised brows. Her cheeks flushed as she chuckled nervously, “That shirt fits you well,” she finally said after a moment. I smirked, then pulled her in against my side. 

“Don’t be embarrassed that you got caught checking me out, fine art is meant to be appreciated.” 

She snorted as she leaned into me further, “You’re awfully sure of yourself, aren’t you.” 

I chuckled and shrugged as she reached across me to grab her coffee from the table, pausing momentarily before grabbing it. She gave me an odd look as she righted herself. My brows furrowed, “Something wrong?”  

She shook her head as her cheeks reddened once again, turning away abruptly to go sit on the other side of the table where the top was clear. She looked a little flustered, finally breaking her silence to ask what the plan was for the day. That’s interesting behavior for her… 

I pursed my lips, pulling my phone out of my pocket, “Well, according to my ridiculously detailed calendar, it looks like we’ll review the skits first and decide which ones we wanna do, then have a quick table read. I’m sure we’ll probably discuss the monologue too…and after that I have a photoshoot so they can get their promos going. We should be able to rehearse some after that.”  

Her brows pinched together, “And how many skits do you have to review?”  

I grimaced, “We usually start with 40 or 50 and have to narrow it down to eight. They sent them ahead since I’m getting a late start though. I read through them on the plane…assuming everyone else got them early, I don’t think it’ll take that long to narrow it down. Some of them are pretty terrible if I’m being honest.” 

She snickered as she took a sip of her coffee. I sighed, sitting down across from her to start working on some sort of egg, bacon, and cheese sandwich concoction that actually turned out to be pretty good. I was trying to not think about how the day was going to go but failing. I could feel my nervousness creeping up on me again.  

Before I knew it, our driver had arrived to take us to Studio 8H to get the day started. My anxiety levels were through the roof after we got into the back of the SUV. Kat picked up on it almost immediately since I couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting. She reached over, grabbing my hand as it rubbed at my thigh. “Are you ok?” she asked. 

I shook my head, “Nope. Not at all. I’m freaking out a little actually…”  

Her eyes softened, “What’s the matter?” 

I chuckled nervously, “So many things…this is the first job I’ve done completely clean. When I was high, I didn’t really give a fuck about how it went. I do give a fuck now…a big fuck. What if I can’t do this without the drugs to chill me out.”  

I could feel the panic setting in now. I hadn’t felt this in a long time, and it was freaking me out a little. I thought for sure my heart was going to pound out of my chest. Get your shit together, Bravo.  

“There’s also the fact that I was a complete asshole last time I was on the show. I know half the cast hate me. I’m sure they’re expecting more of the same nonsense. That’s why I was so shocked they asked me to come back. They had to be desperate.”  

She sighed, squeezing my hand a little tighter, “Stop talking like this, you don’t know that. You’re too hard on yourself.”  

I felt her shift beside me before reaching to cup my chin to turn my face toward her, “Also, it’s not your first job since being clean…dancing was and you’re totally kicking ass at that.” 

I scoffed, “Yeah, but that’s with you. You make it easy.” You make everything better.  

She smiled, “And I’m here with you now. What can I do to help?”  

She took my hand in both of hers, gently stroking the palm with her fingertips. It wasn’t much, but I could already feel myself calming under her touch. I also found the sight of her bare ring finger to be distracting for a brief moment.  

I shook my head, “I think just having you here is enough if I’m being honest.” 

She gave me a small smile, continuing to rub my palm until we got to the studio. As soon as we walked into the main entrance, we were whisked off to a sizable conference room where the writers and cast were sitting around a large table reviewing scripts. Everyone paused, eyeing us as we found our way to the open seats near the head of the table. A few people gave us polite smiles, but there was definitely tension in the room.  

The Director, Liz, greeted us and quietly got us up to speed on where they were. I only vaguely remembered her, but from her reserved demeanor, I assumed she remembered me well.  

“How much time do you think you’ll need to look over the scripts?” Liz asked. 

I shrugged, “I’ve already looked over them all.” I grabbed my phone, pulling up the app I used to make notes, “I’ve made notes too. So, I’m ready to start discussing them when you all are.”  

The room was eerily silent all of a sudden as I realized most eyes were on me. Fuck. I don’t like this. I guess they weren’t expecting me to have my shit together.  

Liz now had a surprised smile on her face, “Well, that’s good news. Maybe we can pull a writer to get you started on your monologue then.”  

I gave her a tight smile. This might make their fucking heads explode. “Actually, I’ve got a rough draft for the monologue already…if that’s ok?” 

She gave me a skeptical look, “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time the guest host has written it themself, but it doesn’t happen often…mind if I look over it? Can you send it to me?”  

I nodded, pulling up the file to airdrop to her and feeling proud of myself that I remembered the steps of how to do that after my assistant showed me how to the previous week. As Liz sat in silence, reading the script I had written, my leg involuntarily started to bounce a mile a minute under the table. As I glanced around the room, I could see everyone watching Liz for any type of reaction to what she was reading - waiting for her to laugh me out of the room. It suddenly felt like the walls were closing in as the sweat beaded at the back of my neck.  

Then, I felt Kat’s hand on my knee, calming my nerves almost immediately. I took a deep breath and grabbed her hand under the table, squeezing it gently before she turned it to lay palm up on my knee so that she could stroke it with her fingertips like she had on the drive over. She seemed to sense how that calmed me. I chewed on my bottom lip, glancing in Kat’s direction where I was met with an encouraging smile.  

Liz set her phone down and leaned back in her seat as she gave me the oddest stare. “You wrote this?” she finally asked. I nodded shyly, unsure of where this was going.  

A wide smile broke across her face, “This is actually pretty damn funny, Bravo.”  

I let out a sigh of relief as a goofy grin slid across my face. The confused faces that surrounded me did not go unnoticed either.  

Liz’s eyes drifted over to Kat, “Kat, would you be willing to be in on the monologue? Instead of having random audience members chime in, I think it would be funnier if it were you.”  

Kat’s eyes widened, “I don’t know. I’m not an actor…this could end badly.” She chuckled nervously.  

I bumped my shoulder against hers, “Come on Kit Kat, it’ll be fun.”  

She arched a brow in my direction. “Come on, you love giving me a hard time. That part will be easy for you,” I added. 

She smirked, “Fair point.”  

I snapped my fingers, “Oh, that reminds me! Do you have an extra copy of that Dirty Dancing skit? Kat hasn’t seen it yet.”  

Kat’s brows furrowed, “You really suggested that?”  

I snorted, “Hell yes. It’s gold. I couldn’t let that idea go to waste. I do have a few edit suggestions though.”  

Someone slid a script across the table toward Kat, she reluctantly picked it up with a soft “thank you” to whoever sent it over. I watched as she skimmed through it with a smirk on her face, her head shaking from side to side as she sat it down. She let out a nervous laugh, covering her face with her hands, “God, I can’t believe I’m considering this.”  

Liz gave me a sly smile before her eyes flicked back to Kat, “Come on Kat, that’s one I really wanted to do. It would be awesome to have you guys in it together. I don’t think it would be as funny without you.” 

Kat sighed, “I dunno. I’ve never acted before.”  

I cleared my throat, “Technically, you kind of do when you’re dancing. It’s still telling a story, just in a different format.”  

She gave me a blank stare for a moment, her brows raised slightly. Shit. I hope she doesn’t think that’s all I’m doing is acting. 

Liz cut in, “Also, this skit will be pre-recorded. So, if you fuck it up, you can try it again. There isn’t as much pressure to get it right.”  

I nodded, “Remember, I can coach you through it…it’ll be fun…and there’s dancing too. It’s not that big of a stretch.” 

She sighed, “Ok, fine. I’ll do the Dirty Dancing skit…I need to think about the monologue. Doing something live is a whole other can of worms.” 

I snorted, “Says the woman who lets Dieter Bravo sling her around a dance floor on live TV once a week.”  

She chuckled, “That’s also a fair point. I do let you do that.” She inhaled deeply, “Can I see the monologue?” 

I nodded excitedly and handed her my phone. Kat snickered quietly to herself as she read through it. All eyes in the room were still on us through this entire discussion, but it somehow seemed like the tension in the room had lessened.  

A few minutes later, Kat handed my phone back to me. She leaned back in the seat with a somewhat mischievous smile on her face, “Can I make some suggestions?”  

My brows pinched together. I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of this or not. Liz, of course, told her to “have at it.”  

She chuckled, “We can make sex jokes, right?” 

My eyes widened. That is not what I expected to come out of her mouth.  

Liz chuckled and nodded.  

Kat smiled, “Well, dancing is often compared to sex…this bit where he’s talking himself up about being a good dancer…I can totally twist that.”  

I snorted, “What did you have in mind?”  

“You remember when I said you have loose hips?” She paused, giving me a wicked smile. “And to be clear, this was in reference to Latin dancing, so don’t you all get any ideas,” she added for those listening. The room filled with quiet snickers at her words. 

I nodded, unsure where this was going. She chuckled, “Well, you can mention something about your loose hips and how that makes you good at lots of things…some sort of sexual innuendo. I can interrupt you and point out that you have loose hips with no rhythm, so it’s pointless.”  

Me and several of the guys in the room gave each other curious looks while several of the women snorted out a laugh. 

I gave Kat a confused look as she chuckled. “The women get it,” she added.  

It finally clicked, “Are we talking about orgasms right now?” The question was out of my mouth before my filter kicked in.  

All of the women in the room cackled with laughter. Kat leaned over toward me with a smirk on her face as she peered up through her lashes. She was so close the sides of our bodies were pressed up against each other and I could smell her, a mixture of citrus and floral notes completely invading my senses.  

“Yes, we’re talking about orgasms right now. Specifically…how men fuck them up.”  

Fuck. She can’t be talking about this. My dick instantly stood to attention. I had never been more thankful to be sitting behind a table in my life. I laughed nervously, “Well, that’s an interesting take that I’m sure will get some laughs.”  

Liz leaned forward, still snickering slightly, “I may just let the two of you come up with the monologue yourselves. I never would’ve guessed you play off each other this well.”  

Liz called everyone to attention after that to see if they were ready to start narrowing down the scripts. I squirmed in my seat, attempting to adjust myself without being obvious when I felt Kat’s hand on my knee again. Fuck. No. Please stop. I glanced at her with a tight smile. She was biting her bottom lip as she winked at me and squeezed my thigh. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but my dick didn’t see it that way. It took every ounce of strength I had not to come in my jeans. It’s gonna be a long fucking week full of cold showers.  

It was obvious what she was doing, trying to break some of the tension in the room. She had effortlessly succeeded in doing that and also managed to give me a raging hard on in the process. To make it worse, I think she was mistaking my tense posture for nervousness. She pulled my hand to rest on her thigh under the table so she could continue lightly stroking it with her fingertips. I could feel the feather light graze all the way to my toes and it was making it nearly impossible for me to focus on anything but her touch.  

Luckily, Liz asked to start with me on skit feedback. So, I took the opportunity to pull my hand away to open the notes I had made on my phone. It turned out to be just the distraction I needed, allowing my body to calm the fuck down before I made a fool of myself.  

After sharing my top 15 skits, we were quickly able to narrow it down from there. Surprisingly, Liz encouraged me to suggest edits on the final scripts. I couldn’t remember her wanting me to be this involved last time I was here. I took that as a positive sign and freely gave my thoughts and suggestions as we did some quick read throughs. That whole process went surprisingly faster than we had anticipated, which meant we got to start the photoshoot a little earlier too.  

After getting polished up for the shoot, Kat and I were waiting around in the hallway for the photographer to get the lighting the way he wanted it. As we stood there, we were approached by some guy who I thought might be one of the writers. I vaguely remembered him from the last time I was on the show, but I couldn’t remember his name. Dan, maybe? Daryl? Derek? I went through a list of names in my head, but nothing sounded right. I’m sure I was too messed up to have made an effort to remember it.  

Kat and I gave him a polite smile as he approached. I assumed he wanted to chat about one of the scripts. However, the way he pulled me into a tight hug and lingered in my space told me otherwise. Dammit, please tell me I didn’t fuck around with this guy.  

He finally pulled away, eyeing me up and down appreciatively. Yep, we definitely fucked around. Fuck.  

“How ya been, Bravo? Haven’t heard from you since you were here last.”  

I gave him a tight smile, “Good, been busy.”  

I felt Kat’s hand rest on my back as she moved in a little closer to me. She could clearly sense the tension. Fuck.  

“Ahh, yeah. Well, you free after this? We could head back to my place and have some fun. I’ve got some good shit you need to try too.”  

He ran his fingers down the front of my chest in a suggestive way. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as she realized what was happening. Fuck.  

I took a step backward, my brow furrowing as I shook my head. “Sorry, man. I’ve kicked the habit. I’m not into that shit anymore. I’m living the clean life now.”  

His eyes widened, “Oh. So, all that rehab gossip is true then?”  

I nodded.  

He shrugged, “Well, we can still have fun without the drugs. I don’t have to have them.”  

My eyes darted to Kat. She looked absolutely mortified. I was already fucking this up with her. 

He must have caught my worried glance because his eyes shifted to Kat, just noticing her for the first time. My realization finally kicked in that he was already high on something based on the way his pupils were dilated.  

“You can bring your girl, too. You know I'm all for a group thing.”  

Kat scoffed, “Excuse me?”  

I started shaking my head and moved to put myself between them, “Look, Dan…” 

“Dave,” he corrected me.  

Close enough. I gave him a tight smile, trying my best not to be an asshole, but he wasn’t taking the hint.  

“Dave, I’m not trying to be a dick when I say this…but I’m not interested in anything you have to offer. I’m clean and I don’t do the random hookup thing anymore. Got it?”  

His mouth dropped open slightly as he moved backward a couple of steps, looking between Kat and I. Kat’s arm looped through mine as she pulled me in closer to her. I now realized why, there was something off about the way Dave was looking at us. I chalked it up to him being high. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes appeared almost black. 

His lips eventually turned upward, “I get it…you’re in, like…an exclusive thing now, right? Well, more power to you babe. Can’t believe someone finally locked him down.”  

Kat and I were both shaking our heads as Dave turned to walk away without another word.  

I sighed, “I’m sorry about that. I’m pretty sure he was messed up on something.”  

Kat shrugged, “Why are you apologizing? You’re not the asshole here, he is.”  

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah, but if I hadn't been such a disaster before, he wouldn’t be talking to me like that.”  

Kat grimaced, “So, you hooked up with that guy before?”  

It was my turn to grimace, “I honestly have no fucking clue. If I did, I don't remember it. I’m still sorry you had to experience that though. I can tell it made you uncomfortable.”  

She cupped my cheek, “I’m fine. It just took me by surprise. I know you’re not that person anymore, so it doesn’t bother me. I’m proud of you for telling him no and sticking to it.” 

I gave her a small smile, “I appreciate that.”  

Her face changed to concern, “Are you ok? That can’t have been good for you to experience either. Do you need to talk about it?”  

I shook my head, slightly confused by her question. 

She seemed to sense it, “Someone just offered you drugs. Did it make you feel any kind of way? Do I need to be concerned?”  

My brows pinched together as I considered her questions, “No, not at all. I didn’t really feel anything other than concern about you having to deal with that shit. Really, zero cravings. The thought never crossed my mind.”  

She nodded, “Good. Seriously though, if you feel the urge to use or drink, please talk to me about it. I know this whole situation is stressing you out a little.” 

I pulled her in for a tight hug, burying my face in the top of her hair and inhaling deeply, “I promise…I’m good. You’re a good distraction from all that nonsense.” Damn Bravo, don’t push it.  

I felt her chuckle against my neck, her hot breath blowing against my skin in a way that felt far too intimate and caused little Bravo to twitch in my pants all over again. I’m definitely gonna need a cold shower later. I loosened my hold on her, reluctantly. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go either but did. At that moment, someone from the hair and makeup team popped out into the hallway, “Kat, Liz just called and said she wanted to get you in a few of the promo shots if you’re willing. You cool with that? We can glam you up right quick.” 

Kat gave me a nervous look, before agreeing and disappearing into hair and makeup. The photographer was ready for me soon after that. We got started on some solo shots, going through several wardrobe changes and backdrops in the process. Kat finally joined me, in a deep purple evening gown. They put me in a tux but kept the look relaxed with the top shirt buttons open and tie undone. For the most part, Kat was out of frame, pulling me by the tie hanging loosely around my neck or pressing her foot to my face. It was all very playful, which led to a lot of laughter between us. 

It was hard not to be distracted by her as she stood just out of frame, essentially manhandling me under the direction of the photographer. She looked so fucking good. They actually hadn’t put her in a ton of makeup, allowing her natural beauty to show through the way I liked. The deep purple of the dress against her skin was creating so many images in my mind that I knew I would come back to later.  

The photographer did take several shots with Kat in the frame as well. I was excited to see the ones of her sitting on top of a piano while I fake played. There was something sexy about the way she was stretched out in front of me. There were also a few shots where I had my back toward her, and she was leaning down with her hands splayed out over my chest. In another, I was leaning back between her knees with one arm looped around her leg to rest my hand on her bare thigh. At one point she ran her fingers through my hair, tugging it slightly so that I looked upward at her. The photographer loved it…and so did my dick. I’m pretty sure I even whimpered a little, to my embarrassment. I had to start going through a list of plant names in my head so that I didn’t get hard again.  

Some of the photos seemed a little sexy for a SNL promo or bumper, but we went with it, giggling like teenagers through the whole process and relishing in the light touches. I couldn’t help but to joke about how the Dieterina stans were going to lose their minds over the photos, which honestly, I think was their intent. They had to be aware of the online gossip just as much as Stacia and Joe were. Why else would they be pushing so hard for Kat to be involved? 

Soon after that, we were finished with our SNL duties for the day. Both of us were already running on fumes by the time the driver picked us up from the studio, but we still had to put in dance rehearsal time. I tried not to complain too much because I told Kat that I would work my ass off to be able to do this and I meant it.  

We decided to grab some takeout on the way back to the hotel. After picking up the food, my cell rang. It was my assistant, Evan, calling to check in and go over some minor scheduling changes for the following day. I took the opportunity to see how things were going back home, “How’s Zee doing? Did she eat today?” 

Evan huffed, “D, I swear, that cat fucking hates me. She just gives me a judgy stare from across the room…like who the hell are you and why are you here? She swatted at me when I walked through to go to the kitchen, then hissed at me when I set her plate of food down.” 

I chuckled. I don’t know why, but it made me feel all warm and fuzzy that she didn’t like anyone but me and Kat. “It’s your vibes man. You need to relax and stop being so uptight around her. She doesn’t like that shit. Did she eat?”  

I glanced at Kat and smiled as she arched an eyebrow in my direction.  

“Yeah, she did. That’s not been a problem.”  

I nodded, “Good. I was worried she wouldn’t if I was gone. Did you do today's plant care routine yet?”  

Evan chuckled, “Yeeees, I’m working on it now.”  

I scratched my chin, now feeling like a nagging parent. “You’re using the rainwater, right? Not tap water?”  

Evan was silent for a moment before he finally answered, “I mean…does that really matter?”  

I let out a controlled breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, “Please tell me you're joking? Yes, it matters. The tap water has chemicals in it. It’s not good for the plants. The chlorine is terrible for the soil bacteria, and it can cause calcium and magnesium build up which fucks with their ability to absorb nutrients.”  

I could feel Kat’s eyes on me. I shot another glance her way, finding her fighting a smile as she turned to look out the window.  

I heard Evan snicker, “D, I’m messing with you. I’m following your instructions and watering schedule to a T. It’s fine…just relax and try to have some fun while you’re there. I’ve got it covered here.”  

I huffed, “Dude, don’t mess with me like that. It’s not funny.” 

Evan snorted, “It kind of is, actually.”  

I shook my head, “You’re a dick sometimes. You know that? Anyway…just a reminder…when you take care of the plants in the art studio tomorrow, make sure Zee doesn’t go in there, please. Those plants are poisonous to cats.” 

“I’m sure the giant ‘No Cats Beyond This Point’ sign on the door will remind me well enough, but thanks,” he replied sarcastically.  

I snickered, “Hey, I’m just making sure bases are covered. If my cat dies because you can’t follow directions, I’ll have your ass.” I was only halfway joking with that statement.  

Evan scoffed, “Excuse me? I’m the one that was hired to hold your hand. Don’t give me that shit. Anyway…go spend time with your hot dance partner. I’ll check in tomorrow.”  

Shit, I hope she didn’t hear that. I glanced at her again, she was still staring out the window with a smile tugging at her lips. Evan had been giving me hell about having “the hots” for my dance partner for the last few weeks. I hadn’t told him it was true, he just assumed based on our chemistry on the dance floor. He was very pro Dieterina. Knowing him, he was probably the one who got that hashtag started.  

Evan and I finally said our goodbyes just as the SUV was pulling up to the hotel. I quickly hopped out of the vehicle to open Kat’s door just in time for her to hand me our drinks. She grabbed her purse and the takeout bag before sliding out onto the sidewalk. Once back in the suite, we ate our takeout in hurried silence. Afterward, we quickly changed into more comfortable clothes then decided to rehearse on the large outdoor terrace just to save us the hassle of finding the conference space that had been reserved for us.  

I could tell Kat was tired. Her eyes looked heavy, and she wasn’t as energetic as she normally was during rehearsals. I felt kind of bad for dragging her into this craziness, but I didn’t regret having all of the extra time with her. I couldn’t. I was enjoying it too much. She didn’t let the exhaustion get her down though, immediately switching to teacher mode as soon as we stepped out onto the terrace.  

“So, the rumba originated from Cuba. It’s known for a specific hip movement which is often called the ‘Cuban Motion’ combined with two quick side-steps and a slow forward-step.”  

She showed me the movements as she talked through it. I tried to focus on her words rather than the way her hips were moving, because if I didn’t, I was going to have a problem…again. I mimicked her footwork as she smiled and nodded in approval. It seemed simple enough.  

“The rumba tends to be a very flirtatious and sensual dance. Think of it as…a vertical representation of a horizontal desire.”  

My brows arched at her words. Fuck. Here we go with the sex talk again. I’m done. I snorted, “Pretty sure I could pull that desire off vertically too. No representation needed.”  

Kat’s eyes widened. Oof. Too far, Bravo. Too Far. I pursed my lips, waiting for her admonishment. Instead, she chuckled, “Pretty sure we would be kicked off the show and arrested for that.” She paused, now smiling to herself as she peered up at me shyly, “Funny enough, the Cuban government did ban this dance at one point because it was too sexually charged to be performed in public spaces.” 

Well, that’s not a no. Is she teasing me? I gave her a flirty smirk, “Well, I’ll try to keep the lewd acts to a minimum then.”   

Her eyes narrowed as she fought a smile, “At least keep them off the dance floor.”  

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as my brow arched in her direction. I really didn’t know how to take this. Is she flirting? It felt like she had been more and more as the day went on. I finally huffed out a laugh, “Don’t worry. I’ll behave unless I’m told to do otherwise.”  

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Noted.”  

An odd silence stretched between us as our eyes took each other in. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but it was different. She was standing a few feet away from me, but I could still feel the heat radiating off her as if she was pressed against me. I cleared my throat, needing to change focus to something else before I got another raging boner.  

“So, what are your plans for this one? Any ideas?” I finally asked.  

She sighed, “Yeah, some. I tried to think ahead on it because I knew we would be pressed for rehearsal time this week. Maybe we can go through what I have so far and take it from there?”  

I nodded in agreement. She approached me, holding her hands up, signaling for me to join her in a closed position. My left hand snaked around her waist and pulled her against me, much closer than she really needed to be for the dance, but she didn’t correct it. Rather than her right arm resting along mine, I noticed she had placed higher up allowing her fingers to gently run through the hair at the nape of my neck. The feel of it sent shivers down my spine and caused my skin to heat under her touch. When she took my right hand in hers, I felt her fingers lightly run along the inside of my palm before initiating a grip. It caused a tingle in my hand that radiated down my arm and through the rest of my body.  

There was something about the position this time that made it seem significantly more intimate than it had in the past. My senses felt heightened and craved her touch. I couldn’t get close enough. Maybe it was the fact that we were completely alone, dancing under the night sky and surrounded by the twinkling lights of the city - setting a completely different mood. Or maybe none of that mattered at all and it had everything to do with us pushing boundaries to see where the other stood. No matter the cause, I was loving every second of it.

We started by going through the basic steps together, then slowly worked through the rest of the choreography she had planned out thus far. The air remained thick between us and our touches seemed to linger, but that didn’t stop us from taking the rehearsal seriously. If anything, it seemed to make it more intense than usual. It was nearing midnight before we decided to call it quits. We had managed to get the first half of the routine nailed down, which was actually a really good start. We felt pretty good about having that much figured out so quickly.  

It was an odd feeling having her nearby as I got ready for bed. I swear that I could sense her presence two rooms away and it was torturous. I couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to go to her room and slip into bed with her. I wondered how she would react if I did. These thoughts bloomed into a full-on fantasy that had me straining against my boxer briefs as I tried to fall asleep. I was torn between getting up to take a cold shower and taking care of it. I reasoned that a cold shower would only delay the inevitable. I sighed, leaning over to grab a towel from the floor that I had left there from my morning shower, then pulled my boxers down and got to it.  

The images in my head were so vivid. I could see her room and that damn mirrored ceiling above the bed. I could imagine how our reflection would look as we joined in various positions. Sometimes we were soft and sensual, others fucking and being absolutely feral for each other. I wasn’t sure which way I wanted her more.

Being soft and sensual was sort of foreign to me, making me realize that it seemed more alluring than my usual style of fucking. I finally settled on those images as I stroked myself languidly, panting and sweating as I imagined how her face would look when she came and the soft sounds she would make against my lips as I took her over the edge. It wasn’t long before I had to fight back my own moans of pleasure, turning to my side to bury my face in a nearby pillow as I spilled into the towel.  

I laid there, breathing heavily, now realizing what a long week this was going to be. I didn’t know how I was going to survive it. It was either going to break me or break us. I wasn’t sure which I wanted more.

Next: Week 5 (Part 2)

A/N: Happy Tuesday my lovelies! I'm sure you weren't expecting a new chapter this quick after yesterday's update. Luckily, I didn't have much left to add to the first part and I was able to finish it this morning. 😘

So for part 1, we got Dieter's point of view of how their week in NYC has started. Are we surprised at how nervous he was for SNL? And why? How do you think their first day went? Also, how about that interaction with Dan...Dave? I already forgot his name too...

Anyway, we see what our boy is up against in his sober life. You can bet that won't be the last interaction like that for him. It's really giving Kat a dose of something new that she's never really experienced.

We also got to see a little bit of worried Cat/Plant dad Dieter. He's too damn cute with that and I can't handle it. And we can't forget his reflection on the moment he realized that pesky ring was gone. Poor guy was feeling ALL the things.

Now, can we talk about the flirting? It's only the first day and Dieter already can't behave himself. I'd love to hear your theories on how all this is going to go down. 😂

Also, quick shout out to @quicax3 for sharing that "vertical representation of a horizontal desire" line with me. We can thank Mark Ballas from DWTS for that gem. If there ever was a line to make Dieter lose it, it's that one.

I have some good news! Part 2 is mostly written. I have a few sections I need to go back and add in from where I skipped around. I plan to post that early next week, so you won't have to wait long! That will be a rather LORGE chapter in Kat's POV.

I also have a good chunk of Part 3 written as well. No ETA on that one yet, but I don't think you will have to wait too long after part 2 is posted. Part 3 is where things really go down, so it's going to get a little extra attention from me before posting. It will definitely be smut heavy, but we will also get to see some of their vulnerability too. It will alternate between Dieter and Kat's POV. 👀

As for this chapter's video, I feel it's appropriate to share Jennifer Grey doing the Rumba. We can't talk about Dirty Dancing and not include Baby herself. Enjoy!

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