#i just choose to make bad decisions because i hate myself

[1roentgen]

.

[legally-a-bastard]

Your tags on the post telling Biden voters to keep Palestine out of their mouths are so incredibly rude; you're doing exactly what they said not to. Saying that they aren't looking at the bigger picture? Trying to explain how voting works like everyone but you is an idiot?

It's clear the genocide and brutalization of tens of thousands doesn't mean shit to you. How selfish can you be. If you don't care about Palestine, at least have the dignity to not go onto posts like that to tell everyone you think you're more important than them.

fun fact. When someone puts something in tags. You don’t have to read them. Anyways,

Is it selfish to care about every life, and not just one group? my brother in christ I wasnt explaining things like I thought they were stupid, because then I would have CALLED them stupid. I was making a point that yes, there are so many better fucking options and I fully support. but there are also risks to them and that THAT is why people struggle with this fucking decision. Because there’s fucking nuance.

You are painting an image of me in your head that makes you mad because you want people to be mad at. You want people you can point at and cry wolf when it’s nothing more than a dog.

Putting the rest under a read more because the people who don’t give a fuck and decide that they prefer being only reactive, don’t even have to bother reading what I’m saying, they can just go ahead and block me right goddamn now. Because I’m not here to appease people and I won’t pretend I am.

I do care about Palestine. An incredible amount, actually. And I also happen to care about the citizens of my own country and other countries alongside it. And I was sharing my thoughts on a matter that can have far larger consequences than we’re fucking considering.

You are the person who cannot see the bigger picture because you think that just because people are drowning in an ocean, we shouldn’t also try to prevent and help people who are drowning in what comparatively might be a kiddie pool.

They are all drowning regardless, and I am of the belief that harm of any kind, not just one specific situation, should not happen at all.

Also, if you read the tags so thoroughly like you think you did,

you would have seen the part that says you can just block & ignore me if you didn’t like what I was saying.

and if you take such large issue with what I say, then you should’ve taken your ass off anon because this could’ve been just between me and you. But now it’s gonna be between everyone who sees it, because while I know not to feed the trolls, this troll has made me think that maybe I need to directly fucking say what I think should be fucking said.

if you refuse to comprehend what I say that is on you. If you get mad because of that, it is on you. If you continue to respond only REACTIVELY and not PROACTIVELY, that. Is on. You.

[tittysuckersworld]

vent thingy

[imtryingbuck]

Told you I’ll always come back

~ gif not mine credit to owner ~

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: 4 years ago Y/n was Bucky’s fiancé and the team thought she betrayed them

Word count: 7,772

Warnings: angst. reader can teleport ~sorta~. reader also rolls her eyes like a trillion times. major character death. swearing. pregnancy. small mention of child birth. mention of cheating. tiny mention of sexual assault. mention of Sharon (I really need to get off the sharon-hate train) guns. gunshot wounds. sad all around

Translation: голубица - dove (if wrong please let me know)

Masterlist

When Fury rang her begging asking for her to come back for one final mission, she agreed with a condition, she’d bring her old team with her. Fury accepted.

That had been two weeks ago.

Landing back in New York brought back many memories, some good - some bad and some she wish she couldn’t remember.

“Hi can you take me to Avengers Tower please?” Getting into the cab she tried desperately to calm down her nerves.

The sky was a visual of her emotions.

Dull.

Standing outside the huge impressive building she felt like she was going to be sick. It’s been four years since she was last here.

“Hi I have an appointment with Director Fury at 12” 

“That’s fine, take a seat and I’ll let him know you’ve arrived”

“Thank you” She didn’t listen to Haley the receptionist, choosing to stand instead.

Fury came down not three minutes later with a small smile on his face. “I’ve missed you - no touching I know”

“Let’s get this over with Nick. Sooner the better”

The man knew not to try and annoy her anymore so he lead her to the elevators, going up.

Her stomach squeezed tight at the sight of her former team huddled on one side of the table, with their back to her.

“Take a seat” Fury whispered in her ear.

The moment that they saw her they were already shouting out their protests, she ignored them and listened to Fury by taking a seat to sit in.

“Calm down everyone. Now!” Fury slams his hand on the table causing everyone to fall silent. “Now, Y/n has agreed to help us with a missi-“

“We won’t work with her Fury.” Steve interrupts.

“You have no other option. No one else will or can help other then Y/n”

“We’ll just do it ourselves” Tony shrugs.

“No. This is happening, if none of you can play nice then you’ll be sacked.”

“You can’t sack us” Steve says with a scoff.

“I can and I will. Now Y/n I sent you over the details of what we’re up against, did you read it?”

“Yes”

“Your team, have you briefed them on everything?”

“Yes Fury, and yes they’re happy to help”. She rolls her eyes at Tony who mocks what she had just said.

“You said in the email that you’ve already paired people up from both teams, do you want to share it?” Like her Fury completely ignores Tony’s childish behaviour.

Sliding over a piece of paper towards her former boss and friend she continues to talk “When you see them in training and you don’t agree with my decision feel free to change it-”

“Oh we will do sweetheart”

Once again ignoring Tony “You said that my team will be allowed to stay here, in the tower?”

“Yeah Peppers done your rooms up herself, you should be grateful”

Turning her head towards the man she saw as a father figure not that long ago “When I see her I’ll give her my thanks.” Sighing she addressed the rest “You have a problem with me, so you will take it out on me. Not my team, but me. Do not think for one second that just because of our history together you can treat my guys like shit. They’re good, hardworking fighters. Fury we have two weeks to train for this mission and if I find out my team isn’t being respected or treated fairly I will not hesitate to pull them and myself out, is that understood?”

Fury’s eyebrow raise as he nods “I completely understand Y/n, welcome home”.

“My team will be here tomorrow at 12, I’ll see you then”.

“Don’t you want to know what room you’re going to be in?” Fury asked.

“No, I’m not staying here.”

“Where?”

“Not here. See you tomorrow Fury”.

Making a beeline for the elevator she takes her leave, it’s once she’s outside of the building she gasps for air.

After her shower and nighttime routine she climbs into bed, her head was throbbing but all she was hoping for was a good night sleep.

It didn’t happen.

“Tony splash me with water one more time you’ll regret it!” She laughs.

“What are you going to do huh?”

“I’ll-I’ll smash up all your vinyl albums”

“Okay okay I’ll stop”

•••

“Steve wait up I’ve only got little legs”

“Sorry.”

“Can’t you just carry me?”

“Nope, come on we’re nearly there.”

•••

“Y/n will you marry me?”

“Yes, Bucky I’ll marry you”

•••

“Natty get your bum out of bed”

“Don’t want too”

“Okay, I’ll come and cuddle with you”

“Yess!”

•••

“Y/n it’s an emergency come quick”

“Sam what’s happening?”

“Come!”

She walked in on Tony fast asleep on Bucky’s shoulder.

•••

“Wand I love you, I’m gonna marry you instead of Bucky”

“Y/n/n your drunk”

“I know”

“Why you sad for?”

“I don’t know”

•••

“Bruce turn into Hulk so I can beat him up”

“Why do you want to beat him up?”

“Because… leave me alone”

•••

“Thor guess what?”

“What?”

“Your so beautiful and I hope you so much happiness”

“La-Lady Y/n,give me a hug”

•••

Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of-

Gasping for breath, she sat up in bed. It’s been almost two years since she last had a dream turned nightmare about her former team.

The red numbers on the clock stated it was 4:33 in the morning, laying back down she grabbed the remote and turned on the telly, there was no way she was getting any more sleep now.

Getting to the Tower a little bit earlier, she sat in her car waiting for her team to arrive. An hour later a text message popped up from her colleague and confidant stating they had arrived she got out of her car.

Greeting them all and introducing them to Fury who said to her.

“You could of come inside you know”

“I didn’t want to” Leaving him to sigh in response.

Introductions between both teams were done and it was straight onto business.

“So what powers do you lot have then?” Tony asks.

“None. We’re all human, Marley’s a witch though” Douglas your closest friend replied.

“Oh. So why are you here if you don’t have abilities?”

“We follow Y/n wherever she goes”

“Why? She’s a tra-“

“Tony enough” Fury interrupted. “Now on to business, the organisation going by The Lords have been on our radar for quite some time now, recently they’ve been getting more cocky” Fury turns around to face the screen, image after image of buildings up in flames, innocent people covered in blood, dead bodies littering the streets were shown to them. 

“We need to have them stopped. In just over two weeks they’ve planned to attack a government base, but we’re going to be taking the fight to them.”

“How?” Colleen - the woman who saved Y/n’s life ten years ago - asks.

“We’ve got their location-“

“Why don’t you just get them” Douglas nods his head to the team on the other side of the table “just to drop a bomb on the bad guys?”

“We need them alive so we can question them”

“Okay… but why all this man power?” Marco says.

“What is it with you lot always asking questions” Nat says with an eye roll.

Y/n sighed, looked at Fury “Marco has a point but I already know the answer, so I’ll be the one that fills him in. We should probably start the training, everyone knows what this missio-sorry I need to take this”. Getting up she answers her phone “Hi baby-“

Bucky hasn’t been able to take his eyes off of her from the moment she sat down. Her hair is so much shorter than it used to be, it suits her. A long jagged scar went across her cheek was new, he wondered how it happened. Seeing her sit there hands placed in her lap, her shoulders tensed up and a blank expression on her face makes him conflicted on his emotions towards the woman he was planning on spending the rest of his life with.

His heart tinged with sadness when he saw the small incrusted diamond ring with two small love hearts sitting on her finger, the finger his ring for her use to take up residence.

He wishes he could take her hand in his so he could rub his thumb over her knuckles, just like he use to whenever she was in that position as he knew it meant she was uncomfortable.

But he knew she didn’t have the right to his affection anymore not after she betr-

His thoughts are cut off as she stands, bringing her phone to her ear, greeting the person on the other end of the line with “Hi baby”.

A scowl made its way onto his face. Not that he had any right to do so.

“How are you? And don’t say you’re okay because I know better love” Douglas’s rough Scottish accent comes from next to her.

“I’m… I’ll be fine Doug, the sooner we’re done with this the sooner everything will be okay”

“Yo-you don’t have to do this, me and the team will tak-“

“Don’t. Everything will be fine after I’ve done this Dougie, you and the guys will be fine.”

They sit in silence. Doug didn’t like the plan she was going through with but he’s known her for years and knows she isn’t going to change her mind.

After training with the Avengers Y/n left, despite Fury telling her to stay and have dinner with them. Douglas left straight after the awkwardness of dinner was done, and being the only person who knew where she was staying, he headed straight there.

She brought this house for her and Bucky to live in after they retired, which they both agreed would be just before they married.

The home was beautiful, four bedrooms with two bathrooms, a large living room, kitchen with a pantry off the side of it, dinning room, an office that she had already planned to turn into a man cave for him. Two car garage, backyard was huge with a beautiful willow tree - as soon as she saw it she knew she had to have the house.

Bucky never knew about the house, she wanted to surprise him. It never happened obviously, and with a heavy heart she rented the house out.

The previous renters contract was up a month before she got the phone call from Fury, and there was no way she was going to stay in the tower. So she went to the place she wanted to call home.

“Have you spoke to them?” Doug asked breaking the silence.

“Yeah, driving Fran up the wall”. She laughs causing him to join in.

“She loves them though” He chuckles.

Nodding with a soft smile, “You should get back it’s getting late, I’ll see you tomorrow”

“You’re right” Standing up he pulls her into a hug, kissing her forehead he whispers “Don’t push me away love, not now”

That night she had the same dream as the night before, waking up at the exact same time again.

A week had been and gone, training was going good for both teams; apart for her. None of the Avengers held back, her body throbbed and ached after each session.

Today was the only day where Fury had to step in, seeing Y/n struggle against Wanda’s powers, he had to stop it.

Wanda had Y/n pinned against the wall and slowly dragging her up it, the whole room went quiet. The Avengers moved closer to the redhead whilst Y/n’s team moved closer to her.

“Mar-Marley don’t!” Y/n managed to rasp out to her friend. 

Marley though small was deadly, her powers being similar to that of Wanda’s “She’s crushing your chest!” She shot back.

“I-it’s ok-okay”

“Wanda put her down!” Fury demanded.

“No. She’s a traitor, she betrayed all of us”

“Wanda!” Fury started to get nervous for the woman being pinned to the wall.

When Wanda’s eyes shot towards Marley, Y/n grew scared. She didn’t want either one of them hurting each other. “Marl-Marley stop! T-that’s an or-order!”

“She’s hurting you. And she’s lying!”

“No she isn’t. She’s a traitor” Tony shouted.

“Admit it and I’ll let you go голубица” Wanda smiles.

Even with the pain of her chest being crushed it didn’t hurt nearly as much as the pet name slipping from her former best friends lips.

“Admit. It. Y/n.” Everyone aside from Wanda flinched at the sound of Y/n’s ribs breaking.

Y/n bit the inside of her cheek, hard enough to draw blood. She wasn’t going to give Wanda the satisfaction of seeing or hearing the pain she was going through. She held Wanda gaze, both women refusing to backdown.

“D-Doug…ge-get Marley out of h-here”.

She sees in the corner of her eye Douglas struggling to pull Marley with him. “If the little girl wants to play, let’s do it” Wanda says breaking eye contact with Y/n to look towards Marley.

“No! N-no don’t!”

“Admit it then Y/n, admit to your team that you’re nothing but a liar and a traitor” Wanda screams.

“It wasn’t her!” Fury shouted, taking in a shuddering breath afterwards.

“What?” Steve’s eyes bounce from Y/n to Fury.

“She wasn’t the one who betrayed us.”

“Liar!” Wanda screams again just as she brings Y/n’s body away from the wall, throwing her back into it.

“I’m not lying Maximoff! Now let her go!” Fury shouted.

“Sh-she betrayed u-us!” Y/n’s heart broke at the sight of the tears filling up in Wanda’s eyes.

“She didn’t lass.” Douglas says as he still struggles to gain somewhat of control over Marley. 

The hold on Y/n was released as she drops to the floor gasping for air. Her team run straight over to her as well as Fury who looks over at the other team with disappointment in his eyes.

“I-I’m okay” Y/n mumbles before succumbing to the darkness. 

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Dr Cho asks when she sees Y/n trying to get out of the bed.

“I need to le-leave”

“You’ve just had your breast bone fractured and several ribs broken Y/n. You need to rest”

“I’m leavi-“

“No you’re not love, you need to stay” Douglas speaks from the doorway.

“I-I need to speak to them, it’s six”

“You need rest soldier, come on I’ll even stay with you, it’ll be like old times ay?” He smiled softly at the woman he respected more than anyone.

“Bu-“

“No buts my sweet girl, back in bed now” He gives Helen a nod before climbing into the bed with Y/n. “Get some rest love, I’ve got you”.

The next day Y/n wakes up in an empty hospital bed. Removing the wires from her, she stands up and carefully puts her clothes back on.

She crept out of the room and down the corridor, knowing exactly where she needed to go.

Hearing the raised voices coming from the briefing room, she took in a deep breath before slowly exhaling.

“-your concern Scottie”

“It is when the witch tries to kill my friend”.

“Friend” Bucky scoffs.

“What’s that suppose to mean?”

“I see the way you look at her”

“Don’t be stu-“

“Doug stop.” Y/n says as she walks in.

“What are you doing here? Your meant to be resting”

“I’m fine”.

Marco pulls out a chair for her, gesturing for her to sit smiling at the woman who saved his life time after time.

“I’m going to say what I have to say then I’m leaving, don’t worry Nick my team will still help”

“What about you?”

“I’ll be there, can’t exactly back out of a deal now can I?” Fury’s eyebrows furrowed with confusion and Bucky noticed Douglas tensing at her words.

Sighing deeply, she closes her eyes “Sit or stand I don’t care but here’s the truth- I was the one that did betray you. I’m not sorry either”

“Y/n stop lying!” Fury says.

“…fine. It was Sharon.”

“That’s a lie!” Steve shouts.

“No it’s not. You see Steve, she was fucking you but she wanted your best friend. She wanted me out of the way, I didn’t even know that you lot were branding me as a traitor until Hydra found me several months later. Oh and I also killed Sharon”.

The Avengers sit there searching their memories from four years ago, and sure enough everything they were told was by Sharon.

“Wait what do you mean you killed her?” Steve asks.

“I put a round of bullets into her head, she was there with Hydra when they came knocking” She shrugged.

“But th-then that means you didn’t betray us?” Tony wheezes out.

“I’m many things but I’m loyal to a fault”

“I’m so-“

“Don’t. I don’t want to hear any apologies. Not from any of you. Fury I’m gonna go now, I’ll see you on the day of the mission.”

Leaving the room before anyone can say anything she heads back to the house.

*Four years ago.*

The nausea was driving her insane, she was on her way back from a mission with a handful of SHIELD agents who could hear her gagging in the back of the quinjet. Nothing was happening for her though.

“Talk to Cho and see if it’s something you ate or something” Lucas said to her as she came and sat down.

“Yeah I might”

And she did just that, getting off the jet she headed straight to medical bay. Telling Helen all her symptoms the nurse tells her to undo her suit and lay on the bed.

“What the hell is that noise?”

Chuckling “That’s a heartbeat, wait no there’s two. Look-“

“What? How?…What?” She always wanted to be a mum but Bucky thought he couldn’t have children because of what Hydra did to him.

“Two strong hearts, you’re having twins Y/n congratulations darling” Helen beams.

It’s only as she was zipping her suit back up she noticed the small prodding bump. Smiling she walks through the corridors subtly touching her stomach as she goes, reaching the common room she sees her friends - her family.

“Hey, where’s Bucky?” She’s asks.

“He’s in your twos room” Steve says with a smile.

“Okay thanks” Reaching the door to hers and Bucky’s room she didn’t realise that the team had followed her, with a smirk on their faces.

Opening the door, her heart broke at the sight of Bucky’s bottom half covered by the quilt moving back and forth and Natasha underneath him with her arms around his neck.

Natasha was the first one to see her, with a smirk playing on her lips she taps Bucky’s shoulder making him look at the doorway. His face completely void of showing any resemblance of emotion.

The team honestly expected Y/n to say anything, something, but not a single word comes from her mouth.

Instead she vanishes into thin air. The only sound for them to hear was her engagement ring clinking off the floor.

*Seven months after.*

Y/n did the most cliche of things, by moving to the middle of nowhere. She had a three bed cottage with acres of land.

It became her sanctuary. The one place she felt at peace, at home.

Most nights she didn’t sleep and if she did she was plagued by the images of Bucky in bed with Natasha. Tossing and turning throughout the night with silent tears streaming down her cheeks, the only thing that she had left in this world was her unborn babies and Roxy the fox that would come to see her every night.

At 8 months pregnant with the twins she was huge. She didn’t know what she was having, nor did she have a scan, which did sadden her. Luckily for her though the pregnancy was going smoothly. 

It was turning ten o’clock at night on a Thursday, she knew something was wrong when Roxy hadn’t showed up. The hairs on her arms stood to attention, Y/n could feel the air changing - becoming toxic.

“Little pig little pig I know you’re in there” A loud rough voice came from outside.

“Whatever you’re selling I’m not buying” She shouted back.

“Not selling anything sweetheart, you’ve got something that belongs to us.” The voice says again causing her to roll her eyes.

Creeping as much as she possibly could with an 8 month pregnancy bump towards the window leaving her to mutter out a quiet ‘fuck’ as she sees the two dozen men outside, armed and ready for a fight. Rolling her eyes once again at the symbol embroidered on their chest of the suits they wore.

Hydra.

She hated that she just couldn’t snap into thin air, more than ever right now. She had tried it a few times - like the time she ventured out in public to go to the store, and she was standing there in the middle of isle three when she had an accident. The most humiliating thing she ever endured. Trying so hard to disappear even as she tried to helped the young woman who worked there clean up her mess.

Even after she left the store without her things she walked as fast as she could to the beat up jeep she had, trying desperately to get it to work, nothing happened.

For weeks after that event she kept trying but always failed. It had only happened once and that was many years ago now, it was when she was shot in the leg. Her emotions were all over the place, she was only fourteen. It hit her that it was because of the twins she couldn-

“Come on Y/n you’ve got no where to run, you’ve got no one to help you, just co-come out”. A new, familiar voice was now heard.

Y/n squinted her eyes thinking of a way to not only protect her babies but the woman who had been her friend for years, the woman who she thought and believed had been abducted by Hydra and was being used to get her.

“Sharon? What are you doing here? Long time no see huh”

“Y/n they promised that they won’t hurt us, just come out”.

‘Think. Think. Oi don’t kick me right now. Come on and think’ repeating softly to herself as she looked around the room. Of course her home was littered with all sorts of weapons and ammunition but she didn’t want to be the first one to shoot just incase Sharon got caught in the crossfire.

“You’ve got five seconds to come out willingly before we start shooting. We don’t need you alive little pig just need that special little thing you stole from Hyd-“

Sharon’s safety wasn’t a priority anymore, not now that Hydra thinks her babies belonged to them. He gets cut off with a bullet in between his eyes.

“Let’s go boys” She shouts as bullets zoomed through the air one straight after the other.

Bullets tore their way all throughout her home, destroying everything she had built for herself and her babies. Holes littering one side of the home.

“No no no not that vas- goddamnit!” She mutters as her favourite vase smashes into tiny little pieces. “Now it’s personal”.

One by one the sound of heavy gunfire became more quieter, until there was only two guns firing.

She grimaces as a bullet skimmed her cheek, she readied herself to shoot again when a bullet was fired.

“Y-Y/n are you hit?” Sharon shouts.

“No, it took you long enough to help out Shaz”

“I’m coming in okay”

Y/n moved away from her position, moving towards the fireplace mantle to pick up a photo of her parents that had been hit when the door came open.

“How did they get you? Are you hurt?” Y/n says with her back to Sharon. “I’ve missed yo-“.

A gun clicking from behind her stopped her words from coming out. Sighing with an eye roll she continues her task of trying to get the glass out of the picture frame. “What are you doing Sharon?”

“What’s so important about you? Why does everyone always want you huh?”

“Hell if I know, nothing special about little ol’ me it’s quite annoying really”.

“What was Simon talking about?” Sharon questions.

“Who the hell is Simon?”

“The leader, the first one you killed”

“Oh him, I’m not sure. Didn’t he tell you when he abducted you?” Y/n could see a glimpse of her friend through the broken glass, gun ever so slightly shaking as her arm starts to tremble.

“They didn’t abduct me, I’ve been working with Hydra for over a three years now.”

It took her by surprise hearing that “Fair enough” is all she says.

“Yep, I told the Avengers that you turned rat and was betraying them and they all believed it”

“Silly twats, aren’t they?” Y/n chuckles.

“Turn around. Slowly and put your hands in the air” Sharon demanded.

“And wave them around like you just don’t care” Y/n sings, as she slowly turned around and raised her hands.

Sharon audibly gasped and stumbled backwards “Yo-you’re pregnant…”

“No shit Sherlock”

“Whose is it?”

“Bucky’s but don’t tell him it’s a secret” She winks.

“You bitch!” The blonde screams “you’ve taken my life!” She starts to pace back and forth, eyes bouncing from the gun to Y/n’s stomach.

“Not yet I haven’t…” Y/n whispers.

“I love him you know! But no he wanted you, you had him and I had to settle for Steve. And now, now you’re having the love of my life’s baby!”

Despite the situation she was in Y/n couldn’t stop the sharp tang in her heart at the sight of the tears gathering in her friends eyes. But just to be a bitch she corrected the blonde “Babies, plural”

“Y-you’re having twins?”

“Yep”

Her throat tightened as she sees Sharon’s finger squeezing on the trigger, both sets of eyes shot straight to the gun as it jams.

It all happened so fast, Y/n grabbed the gun and using the handle to smack Sharon in the face, causing the woman to fall on the floor screaming in pain. Y/n walked past her to leave her home when Sharon’s hand wrapped itself around her ankle and pulled her to the ground. Sharon was up first out of the pair and was straddling Y/n back, gripping her hair in a tight vice she raised Y/n’s head before smacking it down. Again and again and again.

Sharon finally gets up kicking Y/n’s side in the process. “I’m going to do the thing I should of done years ago, you ruined my life-“

The blonde gets cut off when Y/n kicks her legs out from underneath her, causing her to fall back down.

“You’re fucking crazy you know that Sharon, Jesus”. Ever so slowly she manages to get up, her hands going to her belly “All this for a man? You’ve really lost your bloody marbles Shaz!”

“It’s Bucky! I love him” Sharon screams.

“Yeah well so did I until I caught him fucking my best friend!” She screamed back.

The pain and confusion flashed over Sharon’s face “No, your lying”

“I’m not. God I wish I was, but nope caught him fucking Natasha”

“He wouldn’t do that to me!”

“You? He was engaged to me, you absolute weirdo. Sharon just stop alright, it’s over I’m done. You want him so badly have at him! I don’t, I don’t want to fight you anymore, so please get up off my floor, stop crying and leave.”

She watches as Sharon picks herself off the ground, who then stops as they both hear that one sound Y/n had been dreading.

Her waters splashing onto the floor.

“You’ve gotta be kidding me” She whispers to herself as she looks down at the sight.

With Y/n distracted she didn’t see Sharon standing fully or her running towards her.

The punch to her stomach caused her to stumble backwards, the punch to her cheek that had been sliced open by the bullet from earlier caused her to flinch. The pain in her abdomen intensified as she sees Sharon bending down to grab the gun.

“Told you I was going to end th-“ Sharon says just before she’s cut off with a bullet in between her eyes.

Whether it was because of the pain to her aching body or at the fact she was just made to kill someone she thought was a good friend, her finger wouldn’t stop pulling on the trigger.

Even after the gun kept clicking.

“Stupid bitch you could have just left but no you had to be a cunt” Y/n shouts at the dead body laying in her living room.

Dropping the gun, her hand went in between her thighs, bringing her hand back up her heart dropped at the sight of blood.

Slowly walking to find her phone she dialled the number of the one person she trusted more than anyone in this world.

“Hi love, we’ll b-“

“Doug I-I need you. Babies are comi-“ She cuts herself off when a scream tears its way out.

“We’re on our way!”

“H-hurry.” She says just as she drops the phone as she slides down to the floor.

Doug and Fran arrived as fast as they humanly could. Both of their hearts dropped to the pit of their stomachs when they saw all the bodies lying in her front yard.

Running inside they see the body of a blonde and Y/n, legs open as she births her baby.

“Love we’re here, Doug get towels quickly” Fran’s frantic yet soft voice says.

“I-it’s the second one” and that’s when the ringing of adrenaline fades and was replaced by a cry, when they look to the side they see the tiny body of baby number one.

Neither Fran or Doug moved as they watched their friend deliver her second baby. Neither one of them could wrap their heads around the strength Y/n showed time and time again.

It shouldn’t have surprised them really.

“T-this one’s a girl, what about the other one” Y/n asked, voiced laced with tiredness.

“A boy, he’s a beautiful baby boy” Fran smiles as she picks the still crying baby up, handing him over to his momma.

“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Y/n’s eyes move from her babies to the couple in front of her.

“R-really love? You want to name them after us?” Doug asks with tears in his eyes.

“Of course, you’re their godparents after all”

*two months before Fury rings her*

Y/n makes her way through the busy streets with her head down. She can’t stop the eye roll when she notices the two agents following her.

Slowing her pace she waited for the inevitable to happen.

As the agents got behind her a black van comes skidding past, the sliding door comes open, a sack is placed over her head and she’s pushed in.

“Do you guys want me to act scared or what?”

“Shut up”.

“Feisty”

After a while the van comes to a stop and she’s all but dragged out of it.

When the sack was removed her eyes dart around, rolling her eyes for the hundredth time, she’s in an abandoned warehouse.

“Ah Ross, so good to see you. You know if you wanted to see me so badly you could have just called” She smiles at the man.

“Wanted to surprise you Y/n”

“Oh yeah no I noticed, I was so surprised I didn’t see it coming…notice the sarcasm?”. Her head tilts to the side at the sound of footsteps “Hi Fury”

The man gives her a curt nod “Y/n”

“Wanna tell me why I’m here?”

“We have proof that you weren’t the rat, you can come back to SHIE-“

“Absolutely not. I’m fine in doing what I’m doing now thanks, can I go?”

“Y/n you’re a mercenary-“

“It pays the bills” She shrugs.

Fury shakes his head at Ross when he tries to continue, “You didn’t seem so surprised when he mentioned a rat, why?”

“Bit slow aren’t you? Let me guess the one that betrayed you was…Sharon? Yep I knew, um three years ago? Yeah something like that”

“Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Didn’t think you lot deserved the truth so, can I now go?”

“We need to tell the Aveng-“ 

“No. Don’t, look let’s just keep everyone thinking I turned rat okay? It’s the best for everyone.”

Both men look to each other before slowly nodding. “It’s so great to see you Y/n” Fury says as he tries to pull her into a hug.

Stepping back she puts her hands up “I don’t like being touched nowadays, so no touching but it’s great to see you too Nicky”

“I told you not to call me that. See you” He chuckles and making his exit.

“We need to talk Y/n” Ross sighs once the pair are alone.

“About?”

“Your old team” 

Her heart stops.

“W-what about them?” She knows exactly what it’s about.

Rubbing his hand over his face, he looks at her with sympathetic eyes. “The officials want you all to pay for what happened that night”.

“We was set up Ross! Right from the get go, it was all a fucking set up!”

“I know, Y/n I know. I tried telling them but they won’t listen to me” He speaks earnestly.

“Why aren’t they going after John?”

John Cooper, a name she hasn’t heard or spoke of or thought of for over ten years now. He was Y/n’s handler for a year, he made her go out and find people who was at the top of their game. She didn’t know why but she did as she was told to do, finding the best of the best.

Douglas - best snipper in the army. Helped that he could fight like a beast.

Marco - best hacker she had ever seen, fighter, built like a brick wall (secretly a cuddle bear).

Colleen - she saved Y/n’s life when she had been cornered in a dark alleyway neither her or her attacker saw the knife coming. No brainer.

Marley - a young girl at the time was an experiment Y/n stumbled on, she didn’t have the heart to leave her and when she saw what she was capable of doing, she brought her on board too.

Then there was Hank - the biggest mistake she ever made. He was ruthless and conniving, she thought it would work well in her favour until they all heard screaming and they saw him pinning a seventeen year old Marley to the wall and was trying to shove his hand into the girls trousers. Y/n didn’t hesitate to put a bullet into his skull, catching Marley as she fell.

John said they needed another person but she refused. There was no way she was going to bring another person in, not after what had happened.

Their mission was for them to break into a government base and download all the information off the computers, when they got there, there was dead bodies of workers.

Pulling back Y/n ordered them to leave, the moment they stepped back outside they were surrounded by the military, FBI and even SHIELD. 

That was the night she met both Ross and Fury.

“Y/n he’s dead, died in a Mexican prison seven years ago.”

“Oh…”

“I need you to tell me the locations of all four of them”

Chuckling softly, “that’s not going to happen Ross and you know it.”

“No I know-“

“If I give them me, confess to murdering all those people, tell them l was the only person that did it, will they leave them alone?” She asks desperately.

“But that’s not tr-“

“It doesn’t matter what’s true or not Ross. Will they yes or no?”

Closing his eyes he whispers “yes”.

“Let me make one phone call and I’ll come with you, right here right now”.

“That doesn’t need to happen. I’ll need your help soon, you help and I’ll make sure you get a fair trial”

“My old team walks. Free and clear, no one comes after them and I want it in writing Ross.”

“Deal.”

Shaking hands she walks back over to the van, hopping in “take me back from where you kidnapped me from”.

*Back to the present*

The first thing she did when she got into her car was FaceTime Fran who answered after a few rings.

“Hey”

“Hi, Doug told me what happened you’re supposed to be resting Y/n/n”.

“I’m fine,honestly. Where’s my little terrors?”

Laughing Fran calls for the twins, Y/n couldn’t stop smiling when she heard their feet’s pounding on the floor shouting for her.

“Here, talk to momma - I’ll talk to you after okay missy”.

“Of course. Hi babies”

“Momma” they replied in unison. To see them brought a smile to her lips, her heart ached with the need to hold them in her arms.

“Guess what bubbas!”

“What” Logan asked.

“Momma loves you both, so so much!”

“I wuv you mama” Harlow screams down the phone, making her and Fran laugh.

“Logie aren’t you going to tell me the same?”

“I wuv you momma so so so so so so much” His little face beams.

They were truly the perfect mixture of Y/n and Bucky. Logan had Y/n’s eyes whilst Harlow had Bucky’s, Harlow had her fathers smile and Logan had his mommas. The mannerisms of the pair were the exact same as their parents.

She spoke with them for close to an hour, them telling her all about their fun filled day. Saying goodbye to them pained her, she hated saying them words to her babies. Speaking with Fran for a bit she ended the call and went back to the house.

In dire need of sleep.

The rest of the week passed, Douglas visiting her most days and telling her that the team of superheroes wanted to see her to apologise, nothing was ever said back to him, leaving him hoping that things were different. 

It was the day of the mission, she rang Fran so she could speak to her babies one last time. She left the house and headed back to the tower.

“It’s important that everyone knows exactly what the plan is. Nothing can go wrong”. Fury speaks from the head of the table. “Anyone want to saying anything?”

“Yeah, Y/n I’m so so-“ Wanda tries to say.

“It’s fine. Let’s just get this over and done with, my guys- are you ready?”

“Yes boss” All answer.

“Well, good luck everyone”.

On the quinjet ten minutes later, awkwardness filled the air as both teams sit on opposite sides. No words are spoken other than the pilot saying they were taking off.

Exactly three hours twenty-five minutes and 13 seconds - she timed it - was how long it took for Tony to say something, to be honest she was shocked it took him that long.

“Y/n can we talk?”

“If it’s an apology I don’t want it, it mean’s absolutely nothing to me. If it’s about the mission, then yes we can talk.”

“We need to apologise Y/n/n”

The nickname coming from Sam’s lips make her flinch. “I don’t want it nor need it.”

The quinjet fell silent once again.

That was until Bucky broke it. “I never cheated on you”

Everyone noticed the flash of pain in her eyes, “what?”

“I never slept with Nat, we pretended in order to hurt you, ba-Y/n we believed that you betrayed us”

“Believed Sharon don’t you mean.”

“We-I didn-“

“Awesome.”

“What?”

“I think it’s funny that instead of asking me and oh I don’t know believing me, instead you all believed a desperate blonde who had to settle for the man who still pines after her dead aunt, it’s quite absurd to me really.”

“We didn’t know what to believe Y/n. You’re the one that killed Sharon s-“ Steve speaks and ultimately gets cut off.

“I only killed her because I had no other choice!”

“There’s always a choice” He spat back.

“You’re right. But that night I didn’t have one, I wish it wasn’t but she left me no choice!”

“Why did you do it?”

“Pilot how long do we have long left?” They all look baffled by her change of the subject.

“We’re nearly here Miss”.

“Thanks” turning to look Bucky directly in the eyes “when this is all over Doug can explain it to you, end of discussion.”

The quinjet lowers to the ground and everyone takes their leave, just as Y/n walked past Douglas she slides two things into his pocket before gripping his hand and smiling towards him, he squeezes her hand and leans over to place a kiss to her temple.

Bullets fly freely, smoke fill their lungs, grunts and screams are heard. Pushing forwards they all work as one.

They had only been there for less than an hour before the remaining members of The Lords surrender.

After all the intel was gathered, the prisoners on board, they hear the sound of another jet.

“What the hell?” Tony asks.

The Avengers watch as Y/n gives each of her team a lingering hug - who all apart from Douglas looked confused.

As she gets to Doug hugging him too, she whispers something into his ear that even the two super soldiers couldn’t hear, pulling back they stand to attention and salute one another.

She says nothing as she passes them and up the soldiers who put handcuffs on her.

“What the hell just happen-“ Bucky stumbles out but is cut off when the jet carrying the woman who he was still very much in love with inside exploded.

Marley screams and the sound breaks Douglas’s heart, he grabs the woman who he’s always seen as his daughter in his arms as well as Colleen who falls to her knees. Marco stands there with his dark brown eyes not moving away from the still falling parts of the jet.

The Avengers, they all have silent tears streaming down their cheeks, none of them know what to say or do. They’ve just witnessed the person who at one point they trusted more than anything, the person they all betrayed just die.

Douglas walks past them all with both women in his arms and walks straight up the ramp with Marco following behind.

When everyone’s on board the quinjet they see him sitting in the seat Y/n was occupying.

“The day she walked in on you fucking her best friend she found out she was pregnant. The night she killed Sharon, Hydra had showed up at her home wanting the babies, that scar she has-had on her cheek was from a bullet graze, Sharon tried to kill Y/n - caused her to go into early labour. Y/n killed Sharon because she had no other choice, hell she even gave the blonde bitch an out. When me and my wife got there she was in the middle of delivering her second baby.” He shakes his head sadly “the reason my best friend is dead is because of us” pointing to himself and the other three “she made a decision to leave her babies behind just so we didn’t get given the death penalty”.

Douglas pulls out the items Y/n had put into his pocket, her ring - the one with two love hearts that represented her twins, and her dog tags that also had two smaller tags with the twins names, date of birth engraved on them.

“James, she made me and my wife adopt the twins. She knew exactly what she was going to do when Ross talked to her about their deal, she said it was okay for us to let you see them. But please don’t think for one second that you’ll be able to take them away from us, because pal even if you are a super solider I’ll still kill you.”

Bucky sits there with tears in his eyes, “what’s their names?”

“Logan-Douglas and Harlow-Francesca” Doug tells him with a smile.

“Ca-if it’s okay with you and your wife, can I meet them?”

“You won’t try anything stupid?”

“No, god no of course not!”

“Then yeah that can be arranged.”

For two years Bucky sees the children he didn’t know existed until two years ago.

His heart dropped to his stomach when Douglas took him to the house that Y/n had brought for them to live in after they retired. It became the warm loving home for Douglas, Fran and the kids.

Bucky did retire, the day after he lost the love of his life and met his children for the first time, and not only that but he also brought the house next door.

He formed a great bond with the couple who let him see the kids whenever he wanted - which was now every day since he moved next door.

The bond he had with his children was now unbreakable. Everyday he was reminded of what he lost and lost out of just by looking at their adorable little faces. He loved them so deeply, loving them at its purest form. He wishes more than anything that he could go back in time and redo everything all over again, but since he can’t he continues to make up for lost time.

He’s sat in the living room with the kids, Doug and Fran when a knock comes from the front door, he watches as Doug goes to answer and truly didn’t think anything of it.

“Hi babies” A warm voice says.

“Momma!” The twins scream in unison.

Shooting up from were he was laying on the floor building with the Lego set Steve brought Logan, he watches his kids jump up and run over to Y/n who instantly picks them up.

She’s alive. She’s standing right in front of him. His chest tightens. She’s really here.

“H-how?” He whispers but she hears it.

“You’ve been doing so great with them, I’ve been watching” she smiles.

He walks slowly over to her as she puts the kids down and he doesn’t hesitate or think about it before he smashes his lips to hers.

“I still love you Y/n/n”

“I still love you Bucky”

The kids squeal and jump in circles around their parents as Doug and Fran hold on to each other. 

Y/n pulls away from the man she still loves after everything and picks up her big babies.

“I told you I’ll always come back”

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[itonashi]

I am ME.

SUMMARY : Known around the world — a genius scientist named [Name][Last Name]. Everyone sought to be her as she was deemed perfect. A young prodigy that managed to climb up the ranks alongside her friends. She met her demise at the age of 35. It shook the world. Tears fall because of her. Will there be another her?

PAIRING : aquamarine hoshino x fem!reader

WARNINGS : implied deaths, stalking, drugs, slow burn romance, murder, more will be added.

A/N : 2k words. goddamn.. hehe enjoy and pls remember im not an expert still in the adults world neither i am that smart LOL.

4 years later...

You're 6 years old right now. Well, physically. You do not have the patience to restrain myself from not talking all the time. Your babysitter is sleeping. You're infront of a tv. Remote beside you. Maybe, you should change it to a music show?

You're bored after all. No freedom so what else can you do? You change the channel to a music show. After you change it, The MC was announcing the winner for the music show.

"Let's congratulate, B-Komachi!" The MC exclaimed and the audiences roared at the mention of B-Komachi. The members went up the stage, taking the award.

"That girl... looks familiar." You muttered under your breath. A beautiful girl with a blue purplish hair color took the mic and start her speech while giving a heart gesture.

That's the girl you met before. She was interesting to say the least. Even from a first glance, you knew that she hailed from an abusive and solemn past. She was expressionless, she talked to you without any interest in the world and show the real her. To see her become an idol.. does that means she's lying to herself right now.

What drove her to be an idol? You met her only once and yet you feel like, she would be important later on. How captivating, you hope the future is kind to her.

"And that's all from me! Ai!" She waved and giving the mic to another member.

Idol. A career that isn't appreciate enough. Some people on the world looked down upon this career. Just singing and dancing, they said. It's more than that.

Idol need to have a perfect image. One wrong step, then scandal will come for them. Especially if you're a famous group. They have to lie. They have to please their fans. One mistake and it will be talk about for years even after disbanding. The entertainment industry is dangerous. Strict to the point they could take your life.

Idol is also human. They're not robot. They also have feelings. Idols are admirable, they need to have a strong mental to handle the hate. The world is unfair to them. There's so many cases on what happened to idols for the past years and some of it is cruel.

Every career have it's upside and downside. There's no need to compare.

You broke out of your thoughts when the front door opening. You didn't even realize your babysitter already went home. "[Name]." Your father called out to you. You stand up and walk towards him with a tiny smile on your face. Your father wasn't that bad now that you have observed him for 3 years.

He looks like he love your mother dearly. Before going to work, he would always give a kiss to the cheek on your mother. Your mother would blush a little. He carry you to his arm and bring you to his lap.

"I need you to make a decision, [Name]." He said with a stern tone. You tilt your head and nod. "Do you want the easy life or the hard life?" He added, starting into your eyes with a little smile.

You widen your eyes a little "I choose the hard life!" You give an eye closed smile to your father. You felt like being silly while saying that. You expect that if you choose the hard life, he would put you into the entertainment industry. This is the time for you to reveal how smart you are to your family. You aim to be the youngest people to be scouted into the world organization you were previously in. It is possible, in that organization there's no rules for age. You learn that when a child was born in that organization from a couple.

How's that child you see as a little sister figure doing? You hope she still love drawing and painting. Your plan starts now.

Your father sae the expression on your face and laugh "That's good, [Name]. In this world, there's no one living the easy life. Next week, you will follow me visit some director." Your father said with excitement. This is probably the second time you see him that excited — the first one being the time when you talk for 'first time'

He pat you on the head and left you alone on the couch. 'Did he do that just to left me on the couch?' You deadpan at your father but shrug it off. You lay on the couch and close your eyes, gathering the information you gotten for the 4 years you have been living in this new body.

One thing for sure, one of your friends had a baby at the same year you were born. You pray for the chances to meet the child. This time, there's no mistake. You want more connections than before.

"[Name], are you excited to see a child acting on the site?" Your father is driving the car to a filming site. He said the director is someone named Taishi Gotanda. You don't really remember the great things that Taishi guy have did since you weren't that keen on keeping up with the media world.

"Yeah! I'm excited! They're the same age as me, right?" You exclaimed. "No, you're the older one there." He said. Great, being the eldest means babysitting. Well, not if the children is discipline properly.

You arrive at the site and you scan around the site for a potential connection to be made with. Your father tap your back and you follow him behind his back. "Oh, Yoshino-san. Great to have you here." The Taishi guy shake your father's hand and he noticed you behind your father. You notice his eyes and smile while waving to him. 

'This is boring.' You thought while walking a little bit away from your father. "Yoshino-chan, please follow me." A staff called out to you. You faced them and nod. "Your father said that you would only see how the process goes. You don't need to do any acting." The staff stated while leading you to a waiting room. You only hum at her to show that you're still listening to her.

'What a quiet kid...' The staff thought. The staff left you as soon as you arrive at the waiting room. You saw three kids and overhear their conversation. "Bet her acting was so bad they had to cut it all out! She seems to be good at buttering people up, though!" The child with red hair uttered.

The red hair proceed to be kinda rude in your opinion to other people. She left not before noticing you though. She look at you up and down and left. 'Is this how kids are?' You sweat at the child behavior. You look inside the room and saw two kids who you assume is twin because of the similarities. The annoyed expression on their face is visible, probably because of that girl? She's Arima Kana , if you remember correctly.

The girl who can flick a crying switch. Well, whatever. You bow at the twin and introduce yourself. They notice you and bow as well. "Oh, I'm Hoshino Ruby! And he's my brother. Hoshino Aquamarine but call him Aqua." The girl claim. What a weird name for japanese people.. The first thing you noticed about the pair is their eyes. It was captivating enough to lure you in. I'm sure they would become a big part of the entertainment industry. A powerful duo, they would say.

"Nice to meet you.." Aqua greet you with a neutral face. An opposite personality of his sister. A smile crawled up your face. "Soo.. why are you guys here?" You questions their presence at the filming site. "I will be acting while my sister here well.. she's just here, I guess." The boy deadpan. "How rude!" Ruby exclaimed.

You nod and cross your arm "It seems like Ruby is the same as me. I will only be watching." You hope that a friendship will bloom between you guys.

Amazing. You lightly smirk at the acting Aqua did. He only act like himself but he was incredibly creepy with it as that was what's the director aiming for. Maybe, the main part of it was because he seems mature for his age and his eyes. You just can't seem to let go of the beauty. "How did you think about it, [Name]?" Your father ask you with interest towards the young boy. "It's amazing, father. Can I start acting too?" You replied while staring at Arima Kana who was crying.

"It's never to late for you to be like your mother." Your father stated while lightly smiling at you "I can get you a role. Make sure to past my expectations." He added. Looks like the expectations for results is starting.

After that, your father have been keeping contacts with the twin since he have taken an interest on the young boy. You occasionally met the twin and learn more about them one by one. Sadly, your father couldn't keep hold of the them — Director Taishi Gotanda did.

You appear on multiple drama show as a child actor and made a name for yourself. There have been talks that you would conquer Arima Kana the child actor prodigy. You don't intend to do that but if that's what happen, it will happen. But they have to stop the  comparison because every person have their own flaws.

You even got to do some photoshoot for a child's brand. Well, this will be memories in a few years. Atleast, you get to feel being a child again. A carefree child. Because of all the acting, you had to learn new skills everytime even things that you didn't learn in your past life. Naturally, you're good at it.

I guess you would still be a genius this time too.

When the death of Ai Hoshino happened, you attend the funeral with your parent. The people grieving over Ai's death make you recall the time your parent got into a bad accident and passed away because of that. You didn't cry because you had no connection to her but it still hurts to know that the stranger you have met before when they're a teenager to died when they almost turn into a full fledged adult.

You hope the people from Strawberry Production is taking their time to heal from the loss of a staff. You can only give prayers to them.

Later on, the death of Ai was just like a wind breeze that pass every day. No one talk about it after a week. Some may move on and some didn't. Ai Hoshino may you rest in peace.

A year of being in the entertainment industry — thanks to your father. You don't care if they call you a nepo baby. You're talented, that's all that matter. You were invited to a variety show and you were excited since you can freely show your talents there. No on can say a thing about it. No one will question it.

You met the cast and greet them. It was going well until they start talking about your acting career. "Yoshino-san, you really resemble your mother and your acting skill is incredible. Mind to share a tip?" The MC compliment your acting. "I can't because I am ME. I don't think much on what to do and just go with the flow." You said with a neutral tone. One thing about the entertainment industry, they won't question what the kids say since their still not mature for their age and just let out what's on their mind. Even if you have a sharp tongue, the people will love it. They don't mind it when a kid do it. At the very least, you have to have a character that will make people love you.

That would make people remember you for a long time.

"Yoshino-san, your father said before in an interview that you are a genius. Top at everything, is that true?" One of the cast commented. You smirk "Why don't you give me a question and let me answer it? I would prefer if it's a math question, though." With this, you will make moments for yourself. The cast laugh at your confidence and gave you a whiteboard. You will be competing with the 'smartest' cast, they said.

"69 x 4."

Ding!

A ring was made by you. The questions was too easy. As former scientist, you had to count percentage so this is a piece of cake for you. The cast beside you look at you bewildered. "276." You confidently said. "Correct!" The MC exclaimed. You know that they're looking down on you. You ought to prove them wrong.

After a series of questions, the people were speechless upon your smartness. The adults didn't expect this. Your mother look at you behind the swarm of staff and smile widely. You notice it and wave a little.

Soon, the filming ended. You were tired and hold out your arms to your mother. Your mom chuckle s and carry you up to her arms and kiss you on the cheeks. "You did good, my little angel." Your mother praises you. You snuggle up to her. Even though, you are an adult mentally but you want to indulge in this child body of your of receiving parent's love.

Even an adult wants to heal their inner child.

TAGLIST : @glitch-karma @kult-o @miyakoa @pandaswitch @serbian-x @nambii @bajifairyy @lumiriai

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itonashi © // don't plagiarize, copy or edit my works.

[heyitsmeyourfavoritechick]

⋆*･ﾟLibra Observation⋆*･ﾟ

It’s true that’s it’s hard for them to make a decision on anything and it slowly brings out they’re insecurities. (Kinda like scrambling around to see what is right or not) like a humming bird figuring out what house has the best feed, going back and forth etc.

When they overthink it’s sometimes about the bad and the good in different situations and scenarios and also put themselves in other peoples situations, (like a 3rd party view) so they see how the other person should’ve dealt lt with it that scenarios.

Its not that they cant make a decision, they just want to see more options, or classic scales “weigh out the options” to see what’s best fit. Because like queen libra herself Cardi B said “I can get them both, I don’t wanna choose” and it’s true they would rather have both than to choose or have someone else pick for them. classic.

They see both sides so don’t be offended if you see them talking to your “foes” or trying to get all sides of the story. It’s them trying to “find justice” in in whatever situation. (unless they have heavy water placements then they have some kind of loyalty towards you and wouldn’t do this for no reason)

Libra betters themselves and everyone around them, it’s they’re version of love language even when people don’t listen they’re still doing better than you.

Usually get anyone/anything they want. Perks of being ruled by Venus (mostly talking about the girls here)

Libra usually have this shy confidence. It’s hard to explain but they’re not shy with they’re eyes. So pay attention.

A libra women doesn’t need you, you need her.

Libra women are more open to being bisexual or engaging with the opposite sex more so than a male libra but male Libras have so many man crushes even on they’re own guy friends and it makes you question….

Freaky like Scorpios but keeps this hidden by this white picket fence home wife/husband persona of theirs.

Elegant in the streets freak in the sheets

Never met a libra that had any self hate or any self inflecting harm towards themselves, They carry beauty and love and treat themselves in a nice manner and after awhile when they get older they have a lot of self love and respect for themselves. (It’s a treasure to be around and to learn from!, I’m slowly trying to learn this myself but they are the master at this)

Guys take home libra women sooner to meet their mothers than any other sign. I don’t know why but libra women make men feel like little boys being cared for all over again.

The libra women remind any Astro male the feminine nature that women carry, and that in itself is changing for him and rare to be around so please appreciate they’re softness.

Love all things beauty and beautiful objects and people and don’t be surprised if they do anything hands on or creative in their jobs or daily life. Fashion also is a creative outlook too, I never seen a libra that dresses bad even if it’s laundry day best believe they have the cutest lounge/lazy clothes or anything that matches them aesthetically.

Libra usually are attracted to younger or much older people, but with a youth like appearance or energy and maybe smooth sculpted bodies like a Greek statue, also a weakness for European or foreign men in general.

[absurdthirst]

Accidentally Mrs. Bravo {Dieter Bravo x F!Reader}

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 24.8k

Warnings: Drug use, alcohol, dub con due to spiked drinks, vaginal sex, oral sex (male and female receiving), vaginal fingering, Dieter being a sub, face sitting, period oral (Dieter has his red wings), hand jobs, angst, Dieter being a sassy asshole. 

Comments: Being PR for Dieter Bravo is a nightmare, the idea of him going to Vegas for a birthday weekend absolutely horrifies you. Even more when it’s suggest you go with him. It’s going to be horrible, you just know it. Especially when you wake up married to him. 

Co-written with @storiesofthefandomlovers​

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Click Keep Reading only if you have read the Rating and Warnings and understand the warnings may not be complete to avoid listing spoilers. As AO3 says 'creator chooses not to use warnings'. You also agree that you're the right age to be consuming anything here.

When Dieter told his team he wanted to go to Vegas for his birthday, you had told him no. As his PR manager, Dieter and Vegas are a bad combination. God knows what he’d do when fuelled by drugs, gambling and endless booze. Surrounded by people with camera phones and men and women who would want him to fuck them. Maybe get knocked up. You get a headache even thinking about it. When his manager suggested you accompany him to make sure he says out of trouble, you protested and put your foot down, telling her that you hate Vegas. It’s a cesspool of bad decisions. However, the next thing you know you’re on a private jet going to Vegas while Dieter snorts coke off of the mahogany table while his “friends” drink champagne. You know this is going to end in Disaster.

Inhaling deeply, Dieter throws his head back, letting the endorphins rush through his system and he lets out a loud whoop. “Fuck, that’s some good shit!” He crows and looks around, spotting you sitting in one of the plush leather chairs across from the couch with a sour look on your face. “You want some?” He asks, offering you the one hundred dollar bill he had rolled up to snort the coke with. “Maybe it’ll get that stick out of your ass.”

You watch him with disgust. You might have been hired to handle his PR but the man makes it a never ending job. Being caught with prostitutes, arrested with coke possession and a general bad attitude with paps has made you have many a sleepless night. This trip will be no exception. “No, thank you.” You respond coolly, shaking your head. “The stick will remain firmly in my ass for the entire trip.” 

Dieter chuckles, pulling his hand back, “I bet you like having something up your ass.” His joke makes you roll your eyes and you cross your legs, looking out of the window.

Huffing at your lack of appreciation for his joke, Dieter passes the rolled up bill off to one of his friends and frowns at you. “Why are you here if you don’t want to have fun?” He whines. “You should have stayed in L.A.” He doesn’t want you here. All you do is complain about his behavior, his manners, the way he dresses. He wants to relax and have fun, not be nagged to death by a fish wife. If he wanted that, he would get married.

“I don’t want to be here but your team - including me - thought it would be best to come with you to control what happens. The last thing you need with your new movie coming out is a mug shot.” You tell him. “Besides, I have fun. My fun just doesn’t involve doing copious amounts of drugs, having sex with prostitutes, and drinking more tequila than what’s available in the entire country of Mexico.” 

Dieter scoffs, “what do you do to have fun? Read?” His words make you bristle, swallowing down your retort that reading would be better than spending him in his company. 

“Just behave yourself and we won’t have any issues.” You finally respond, glancing around at his “friends.” All people who are here because of what he can give them, not because they like him as a person.

“I always behave myself.” Dieter gives you an offended look and shakes his head. “Just because I don’t adhere to your version of behaving doesn’t mean I don’t behave.” He chuckles and looks around the plane. “Haven’t you ever just had fun? Fuck what they say or what they think? Just be yourself?”

You try not to react, but his words hit. You went to college for media and you ended up getting a job right out of college with a PR firm. You needed to prove yourself and that meant working all hours. You’ve never really let your hair down and done whatever you wanted. You huff, shaking your head at him. “You don’t behave. You make my job so much harder. I’d hate to see you when you’re not behaving.”

“Have I flashed my dick at the paps?” He asks you, titling his head and smiling in amusement at the mental image of doing just that. “Or come up with some love child with a prostitute? Because I’ve fucked a lot of women. It could have happened.”

God, you hate this man. He’s so self indulgent it infuriates you. He does what he wants, when he wants. Damn the consequences. “Just try to not let either of those things happen during this weekend.” You reach for your phone, deciding to check your emails while he continues to indulge. 

When the pilot announces the plane will be landing soon, you steel yourself for what will no doubt be an exhausting weekend. The plane lands and the limos are waiting on the tarmac. Dieter’s assistant - who luckily has the weekend off - had arranged every detail even down to the baggie of coke waiting for him in the limo.

“Vegas baby!” Dieter squints and nods his head so that his sunglasses flip down onto his nose and he pushes them up. He wraps his arm around the girl he had met just this morning who had said she would be willing to go to Vegas with him. He smirks as he looks back at you, “try to keep up.” He tells you before he and the bottle blonde he’s wrapped around stumble down the plane’s stairs onto the tarmac.

You scoff in disgust, watching him squeeze the woman’s ass when she gets into the limo. He’s wearing sunglasses and it’s fucking nighttime. What an asshole. You get into the limo, sitting in the far corner and he has already found the baggie. This is going to be the weekend from hell. The woman kisses his jaw and he manages to snort some coke off of her tits when she pushes them together. “Classy.” You mutter, ignoring the entourage.

Dieter doesn’t even pay attention to you, too busy motor boating Cindy, or was it Kathy? He doesn’t know, nor does he really care. He just wants to get to the hotel and get another bottle of champagne. “We should hit the club!” Someone suggests, and like the easily distracted creature that he is, Dieter latches onto the idea. 

“A strip club!” He agrees happily. 

You shake your head. “No. No strip clubs.” You put your foot down. You’re not going into a strip club with Dieter Bravo. 

“It’s my fucking birthday. We are doing what I want.” Dieter growls, pissed that you’re doing everything you can to ruin his birthday weekend. 

“No strip clubs.” You repeat, crossing your arms.

“Go sit at the hotel if you don’t want to go.” Dieter huffs. “This limo is going to a strip club.” He lowers the glass between the back and the driver and grins. “Hey Buddy, take us to the best fucking strip club in Vegas. ‘Kay?”

You huff, knowing you have no choice. You can’t leave him be. He would run riot in Vegas. “You don’t want to change?” You ask, “or check into the hotel?” You frown, knowing he’d requested the best suite at Caesars. 

“No. I want to get this party started. We can change later.” Dieter declares. 

“Later? It’s nine.” You check your watch. 

“It’s early for Vegas.” Dieter shrugs and you sigh, knowing you have no choice.

Fueled by cocaine and champagne, Dieter is the first out of the limo when it comes to a stop. He likes the look of the place, the sound of the music is loud but he doesn’t care. Soon enough he will be watching women dance. “Hey, are there men here too?” He asks, suddenly curious. That would be cool. A strip club that caters to men and women, or people who like men and women.

You exhale deeply, trying to remain calm as you follow the group into the strip club. It's loud and full of bodies - both men and women. Some partly dressed, some naked as the day they were born. A half naked man walks past and you fluster when he winks at you. You have never been somewhere like this and you're no virgin but your life has been pretty vanilla.

It’s nothing but VIP for the group. Even if Dieter wasn’t recognized, a few folded up bills passed to the server assures that you are quickly seated at the best tables. “Uh huh, I want a dance from her and him.” Dieter lowers his glasses and leers over the rim with a grin on his face as a pair of dancers walk past. He turns to watch the rear view and catches sight of you. “I’ll even buy you a dance.” He tells you, blowing you a kiss. “Get you to loosen up. Tuck a few bills in a G-string.”

You roll your eyes and have a sip of the glass of champagne. You won’t get drunk but a glass or two will help you deal with this asshole all night. Some people ask why you work for him if you can’t stand him but honestly, he’s a PR nightmare and you always said you wanted the hardest cases for a challenge. He’s definitely been the hardest. “Gee thanks.” You respond sarcastically. 

The woman Dieter brought along is a little offended that he wants a dance and she slaps his chest ‘playfully’ and says “what about a private dance from me baby?”

Dieter rolls his eyes and tugs her close. “Of course I want a private dance from you.” He coos, leaning in and presses his lips to her neck and makes her giggle when he playfully bites her. “Later. We’ll have our own little strip tease.” Later on he has no clue what he will be doing, but she’s fun and he will hopefully get lucky. He’s getting laid for his birthday. Or at least a blowjob. “Don’t you want to shove some bills into his g-string?”

You huff, deciding you might as well do something fun for once. You make a grabby gesture and he grins, handing you the bills. You call a man over and he saunters, moving his hips and he holds out his hand. “Oh, I don’t want a dance. Here, take this. Put it towards your education or your rent or food or whatever. Just - take it.” You shove the notes into the man’s hand who is shocked.

Pouting, Dieter rolls his eyes. “God, you are no fun.” He leans back and crosses his arms over his chest and shoots you a glare. “He was hot, he might have enjoyed the stick in your ass.” He’s pissed that he didn’t get to see the man dance, or see if you would fluster and loosen up. He doesn’t care about the money. It’s about having a good time.

You scoff, “you act like he wouldn’t have been nice to me because he’s getting money. All of these people are here because of your money, Bravo. They aren’t your friends, they want your wallet. Especially her.” You point to Cindy, Kathy, whatever her fucking name is. “I’m going to the bathroom.” You huff, standing up and grabbing your purse. You need to calm down and compose yourself if you’re gonna survive an entire weekend of this.

For a split second, Dieter’s face falls, hurt shining in his eyes before he shakes himself slightly and blinks it away. You’re just pissed that you’re here instead of locked away in your depressing house with whatever boring ass book you were going to read. The waitress comes over and he orders a magnum of champagne and glasses for everyone, including you. You’re at his birthday weekend, you are damn well going to celebrate,

When you come back from the bathroom, there’s champagne flowing and you see the glass waiting there for you. You shouldn’t drink it but you have to. You won’t endure tonight without a drink or two…or maybe three. You sit down and pick up the glass, downing it. You choke on the bubbles and Dieter cheers, clapping his hands. “Now we are fucking talking.” 

Little do either of you know that one of his entourage snuck something into your drinks. You sway slightly, a giggle escaping your lips. “Wow. That champagne was so fucking good.” You feel tingly, like you’ve had ten drinks instead of two.

“So you are human.” Dieter gets up and moves around Cindy or Kathy and wedges himself in beside you. His grin is wide and happy and he clinks his glass against yours and takes a large sip of his bubbly. “It’s nice to see it. I didn’t think that I would ever witness you ‘let down your hair’.”

“Don’t get too excited, Bravo. The night is young and I am - I am supposed to be watching over you.” You can’t help the giggle that escapes your lips. You lean against Dieter, all hatred for him seems to have disappeared and you have another glass of champagne. “Happy birthday Bravo.” You cheer, suddenly excited for the night. 

****

You groan at the bright light that shines into the room, your head is throbbing and you can barely open your eyes. Fuck, what happened last night. You don’t remember a thing. You wince, realizing you must’ve drank way too much, and you shift, turning over away from the light and you hit something. Without opening your eyes, you reach out, gasping at the feel of hot skin and you freak out, opening your eyes. “Oh fuck. Oh fuck.” You panic, seeing the familiar tattoos on your boss’s back.

Dieter groans, hearing someone’s panicked voice and shifts, turning over and covering his eyes with his hand. “Throw up on the floor.” He grunts, not wanting to lay in puke if whoever he took to bed is about to get sick. He doesn’t open his eyes and groans again, wanting to go back to sleep.

You slap him, “wake the fuck up!” You slap him again. Shrieking when you realize you’re naked. “You need to wake up now, Dieter. I- we are in bed and - and naked.” You look at him and frown when you see the gold band on his hand. “What the fuck is that?” You reach for his hand, pulling it away from his face and that’s when you see the diamond in your left hand. “What the fuck? Wake up!” You slap him with his own hand.

“Ow! Ow! What the fuck?” Dieter bolts upright and throws his hands up defensively. His eyes are wide and he looks at you like you are crazy. “What the fuck are you doing? I’m sleeping!” He isn’t questioning why you are naked and in his bed. He doesn’t even really care, but dammit, he was enjoying the sleep. And you rudely interrupted it.

“Sleep? How can you sleep when a) we are in bed naked together, and b) WE ARE APPARENTLY FUCKING MARRIED!” You shout, grabbing his hand to show him the new gold band and holding up your own hand. “Oh God. This is - it’s gotta be a joke, right? We aren’t married. We just bought rings.” You try to reason, knowing no matter how drunk you could be, you wouldn’t marry him.

His eyes widen and he looks at your hand and then back at your face for a moment before he busts out laughing. “Oh good job!” He crows. “You had me for a second. And showing me your tits to sell it? Genius.” He chuckles and looks around, spotting a glass of champagne on the nightstand and twists around to grab it, swallowing down the flat champagne. It’s disgusting, but his mouth is dry and he needs something. He pulls the glass down from his lips. “You should stop the bullshit babysitting and act, sweetheart.”

You narrow your eyes at him. "What the fuck are you talking about?" You growl, pissed that he thinks this is some kind of joke. "Do you think this is funny? Bravo, this is - oh God. I think I'm gonna be sick." You scramble to get off of the bed, racing to the bathroom and you kneel down just as you throw up. You gag and cough until you're done before you slump down on the floor, pressing your forehead against the cool porcelain. You inhale deeply and look down, eyes widening at the crusted liquid on your inner thighs. "Oh shit." You hiss, reaching between your legs. You stand up, rinsing your mouth, and stumble back into the bedroom. "We had sex. We had sex." You're in shock.

“What?” Dieter frowns, shaking his head. “You wouldn’t have sex with me. Believe me, I’ve asked.” He had asked you the first day he met you and you had scoffed and acted revolted so he had never asked again. Although you’re standing in front of him naked, and that is something he thought he would never see. “You just probably spilled something on yourself.” He rolls his eyes and flops back onto the bed.

You shake your head, tears in your eyes that he doesn't believe you. "I know what dried cum looks like, you asshole." You spit and search around the room for your phone, knowing you need to find out what happened. When you find your phone, you see the notifications. Opening the first one, your eyes widen. "Oh shit." You read the headline, "Oscar Winning Dieter Bravo Gets Married in Vegas." You scroll until you see the video. "Dieter." You take the phone over to him, hitting play.

A picture is worth a thousand words and apparently a video is worth a million. You and Dieter are obviously intoxicated and grinning happily at each other. In the video, he grabs your ass and hauls you closer while the two of you kiss, tongues tangled and the group that Dieter had brought is cheering and clapping. Pulling away, Dieter looks around. “Now, I’m going to fuck my wife!” He yells out, grabbing your hand and dragging you towards the limo - presumably to take you back to the hotel. “Shit.” Dieter groans, knowing his manager is going to kill him. You probably didn’t sign a prenup.

You cannot believe this. You don't know what happened. You vowed you wouldn't have more than a few drinks, how the hell did you end up blacked out and married to Dieter? "Shit." You echo, wondering what the hell you're gonna do. That video is all over the internet and you know that this press is going to be impossible to tamper. The phone rings and you groan at the name of Dieter's manager flashing on the screen. "Hey Alex. How are you?" You ask, trying to act nonchalant. 

"How am I? How am I? You fucking got married to Dieter. You were hired for PR and you orchestrate the biggest fuck up in the history of fuck ups."

“Hey.” Dieter huffs, hearing her screech over the phone. “I wouldn’t say it’s the biggest fuck up.” He throws the covers off his body, obviously not going to be able to go back to sleep and climbs out of the bed, stretching with a groan. Completely unconcerned with his nudity as he stumbles to the bathroom to take a piss.

You watch him walk into the bathroom, jaw dropping, and you realize now why there's an ache between your thighs. "Not a fuck up? You got married! To your PR manager. Jesus Christ Dieter. You need to fix this." Alex says your name and you bite your lip, unsure of how you can fix it. 

"I- I don't know - he can't just say it was a joke. There's..." You rack your brain. "There's one way but he's gonna hate it." You look towards the bathroom. 

"I don't care. Just fucking fix it. He has a new movie coming out and we don't need the studio on our ass because he has fucked up - because you have fucked up." She hangs up and you stare at the phone, wanting to cry at this entire fucked up situation.

The best thing about Dieter is his ability to go with the flow. Or at least he thinks he does. Often he’s just too strung out, but right now, he’s finding this hilarious. “Just call me Brittany.” He chuckles into the mirror before he groans and reaches for the bottle of antacids that he keeps in his bag, along with his illicit drugs. Getting older sucks. He pops four into his mouth and chews them, reaching down and scratching his balls while he tries to remember if he did anything else last night besides marrying you. That can’t have been the worst thing he did.

You know what the solution is but fuck, you hate it, you really fucking hate it. You grab the shirt he was wearing, throwing it on without care, and you walk towards the bathroom. "We can't get an annulment." You declare. Dieter frowns, turning to look at you, his hand still scratching his balls. 

"Why not?" He huffs. 

"We have to stay married. If we get an annulment now, it will be recorded and the press will get hold of it and it will be a bigger story than it already is. If we stay married, even on paper, for six months or so, we can get an annulment and no one will even care to look because it will be old news."

“We can just say it was an accident.” Dieter shrugs and smirks. “What happens in Vegas and all that.” You shake your head. 

“No Dieter, not what happens in Vegas. That’s the problem!” You shriek and he winces at how loud you get. 

“Jesus, there’s the stick again.” He grumbles and sighs, trying to ignore the fact that you are wearing his t-shirt. “I don’t want to be married to you,” he whines. “Your going to tell me I can’t have sex while we’re married.”

“I won’t be married to you in any way other than a piece of paper. We are going to have to suffer each other for the time being. Once we get the annulment, you will give me a reference so I can move on from this shit show. You - you can fuck whoever you want but you won’t be doing it in public. We need people to think we are really married. You need to act like we are actually married, not just a terrible mistake. You need this to work otherwise you will be a laughing stock. With the cocaine possession and DUI, you can’t afford another fuck up.” You warn him, knowing that the last thing you want is to be married to him but you need this job more, you need that reference more than anything.

Dieter huffs, knowing that you aren’t wrong, but it’s all bullshit. “What the fuck, you don’t do your job and I’m the one punished?” He gripes, hating the entire idea. Especially where you said you would be leaving him. He hates when people leave him. “How did Ms. ‘Holier than thou, stick in her ass’ manage to get married to a man she can’t stand in a Vegas wedding chapel?”

“I don’t - I don’t remember anything past going to the bathroom in the strip club. I - I didn’t do my job? How dare you! I tried to prevent something like this but you bought me the drink and it was poured and - oh fuck. Do you think- do you think our drinks were spiked? Oh fuck. That explains it. One of your goddamn gold digging groupies spiked my drink and now I’m - oh God. I knew I shouldn’t have come along. Oh fuck. Dieter - we got married and had sex and I don’t even remember.” You freak out again, hands shaking as the weight of this settles on you.

Dieter frowns, while he loves using drugs and thinks that you could personally benefit from the occasional snort or toke, he doesn’t like the idea of being unknowingly drugged. Again, completely unconcerned with the fact that he’s naked, he walks over to you. “It’s okay.” He hesitates to reach for you, but then he does, pulling you against him and hugging you. Only slightly awkwardly considering you are just wearing his shirt and it is morning. “I’m sure there’s a video of it.”

You are so distraught that you actually wrap your arms around him and allow him to comfort you. Only for a moment until you realize that you’re married to him. “We need a game plan. What’s done is done and you don’t need anymore bad press so we gotta stay married.” You declare as you pull away from his embrace.

Dieter groans, hating that you keep saying that. Because he knows that means that his fun in Vegas will be over if you have your way. “Just lay low.” He shrugs his shoulders and turns around, wanting to look for the pills that he had yesterday. He spots a silk robe and snatches it up, throwing it on but not bothering to close it. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not - we got married. It is a big deal. It’s a massive deal. I never - I wanted to get married and not get divorced. I wanted to be in love with the man I married. Not - not just - this mess. Oh God. My parents are going to kill me. Everyone expects you to be this reckless but not me. I’m the sensible one. Always have been. I’ve always had to be good.” You admit, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Dieter turns around and stares at you, amazed that you are so…worried about what your parents are going to say. “You’re legal, right?” He demands, squinting at you as if he could tell your age by staring at you. “Worried about your parents? Why? What are they doing for you? Are they supporting you?”

“Of fucking course I’m legal, you idiot.” You huff, “my parents love me and I love them and they are going to be mad when I tell them I accidentally got married in Vegas to a drug addicted actor.” They had told you that moving to L.A was a bad idea and now you’re inclined to agree. 

“Who cares what they think?” Dieter scoffs, finally finding the baggie. 

“Who cares? I do!” You choke, tears stinging in your eyes again. 

“Then just don’t tell them.” Dieter says, like it’s the easiest thing to do. 

You shake your head, “I can’t lie to my parents. I can’t do it.” You watch Dieter roll his eyes. 

“You can. It’s easy. Just tell them you got married for real and they’ll be disappointed when their favorite son-in-law asks for a divorce in six months time but hey, what can you do? It’s fucking life.” You watch him, knowing your parents are gonna wonder what you say in him compared to your clean cut exes.

Dieter pops three of the pills in his mouth and offers you a couple. “Want some?” He asks and you scoff, shaking your head and looking at him in disgust. 

“Shit like that got us into this situation!” 

He rolls his eyes and closes the bag, shoving it in the pocket of the ridiculous pink silk robe. It only comes down to his thigh and doesn’t cover anything since he hasn’t closed it. “Just release a statement saying that after spending a night with you in Vegas, I realized that I couldn’t deny my feelings anymore.” He tells you. “Or say that we’ve been secretly dating for months and just decided to go for it.”

You are surprised he’s suddenly agreed to go along with it. Your eyes dip down to his impressive - even flaccid - cock and realize why he’s so obnoxious. “I think the secretly dating one is the way to go but you have been out with most of the men and women in L.A in the past six months. We gotta explain that.” Your mind whirls with the best way to cover this up. Your PR mind taking over to try and distract you from the panic that you also had sex with your boss. One thing at a time.

He shrugs, obviously unconcerned about the details. “We’re poly.” He chuckles, knowing that with as stiff as you are, there is no way that you would ever be in situation like that. “Or that it was just a front. Throw people off.” He grunts and scratches his belly. “I’m hungry, are you hungry? You should order us breakfast.” He switches topics suddenly and looks at you expectantly. “Doesn’t the wife take care of her hubby?” He teases with a smirk.

You huff, walking over to the phone and you grab the room service menu. “Aren’t husbands supposed to stop their stupid fake friends from roofieing their staff?” You retort, glad that you only have one more day of this before you return to L.A and you can get away from him. His assistant can run around doing this shit. You order a healthy breakfast, making him pout, and you smirk, “I’m looking after you baby.”

“Look after me by ordering bacon.” Dieter grumbles and sighs when you just lift a brow. “I’m going to shower.” Despite the rumors, he did shower. He just dresses like he doesn’t give a fuck. Because he doesn’t. Shooting you a grin, he waggles his brows. “Wanna join?”

You wrinkle your nose, “absolutely not. You haven’t even asked if I’m on birth control. We had sex last night. I take the pill, by the way.” You inform him and he wrinkles his nose. 

“Too many chemicals. You should just check your basal temperature.” 

You shake your head, “how have you not knocked someone up yet?”

Dieter shrugs, not bothering to tell you that he normally does use a condom. Doubting you would believe him. “Guess I’m just lucky like that.” He eyes you again, seeing the streaks of his dried cum on the inside of your thighs. “You wanna take a bath while I shower then? I know you want to clean away the evidence.” His tone is oddly hurt and he purses his lips at you.

You nod, deciding that a bath sounds nice, especially since your body aches. God knows what he did to you last night. You follow him to the bathroom, bending over to turn on the bath and there’s a flash in your mind of Dieter bending you over the bath, his cock buried deep inside of you. You gasp, making Dieter look over at you. 

“You okay?” He frowns and you nod. 

“I’m fine.” You choke, grabbing the bubble bath.

Rolling his eyes, Dieter leans into the marbled shower to turn on the water. It wouldn’t be so horrible being married to you for a few months if you weren’t such a stick in the mud. You’re hot, he had been grateful that he was battling a headache when you were standing in front of him naked. Or maybe he had too much sex last night. Maybe that was the reason he wasn’t popping a boner at the sight of your tits and bare cunt, because he likes the look of you. “I guess we go home this afternoon?” He asks with a pout. It’s his fucking birthday today and he’s gotten yelled at, scolded and there is zero chance of getting a birthday blowjob from you.

You ponder it for a moment, realizing that you can’t just go home. It would look bad. You need to be seen out and about. “We can’t go home today. It’s best if we go out. We are gonna get swarmed but the public needs to see you and your wife out and happy.I’m sure even you can manage to act like you actually love me. Happy birthday by the way.” You offer him a smile despite being so mad that the thing you tried to prevent had happened.

Your smile throws him for a loop and he just stares at you for a moment. It might be the second time that you’ve smiled at him, a nice smile, since you’ve become his PR person. “Thanks.” He swallows back the urge to make a comment, something dirty that you wouldn’t appreciate and just nods. “Okay. Be seen. We can do that.” He shrugs. “What would be good?”

You test the water before stripping off his shirt to sink into the hot water, a moan escaping your lips at how good it feels on your aching muscles. “I’m thinking we go to dinner. No entourage. Then we go dancing. We gotta appear close and I doubt you’d be spending your birthday apart from your wife. This is just until the news has died down so we can divorce.”

He rolls his eyes at how boring that sounds. No doubt dinner will be talking about how much of a fuck up you think he is and the dancing will be some sedate oldies music where no one there is under one hundred. He shrugs off the robe and steps under the shower spray with a groan. “Sounds great, grandma.” He quips. “Senior specials? Gotta get there before five.”

It’s your turn to roll your eyes. “No. I’ll book dinner for nine and then we can go to a club. Not a strip club.” You huff, swaying your hands through the water. His sarcasm has pissed you off since it’s technically his fault that you are in this situation. “I gotta go out and get something nice for a club since everything I brought with me is for a nice dinner and not the club. I guess I gotta dress the part of Mrs. Bravo.” The words make you feel sick but what can you do? You need to keep your job and the way to do that is to create the narrative that you’re in love with the man. As disgusting as he can be, you hope you find something good in him. He’s selfish, indulgent, and completely self obsessed. Traits you would never want to marry, yet here you are.

“Got it, you don’t like strip clubs.” He feels guilty, something that he hates feeling. He doesn’t know why, he didn’t spike your drink, but you are stuck with him because of it. “Take my card when you go shopping.” He tells you, shampoo in his hair. “This is my fault, so you should at least be able to buy what you want until it’s done.”

You want to argue and say you can afford your own things but honestly, you deserve something nice since this wasn't your fault. It was his fake fucking friends. You wash up and wash your face, standing up from the bath just as he steps out of the shower, reaching for the towel. He really is sexy in that Oscar the Grouch kind of way.

Water droplets glisten on his chest as he wraps his towel around his waist, covering himself for the first time since he got out of bed. “You’ll need to stay in this suite too.” Dieter reminds you. “The paps watch the hotel rooms.”

You huff, knowing he’s right, and you wrap the towel around yourself. It’s hard to resist licking up that drop of water going down to his - your mind flashes with an image of you doing just that and you stumble. “Shit.” You hiss and he reaches out to steady you, causing you to pull your arm away. “Do you- do you remember anything from last night?” You ask, curious if he’s having these flashes too.

“I-“ Dieter bites his lip and almost lies to you. “I remember most of last night.” He admits quietly. He’s done so many drugs that some things just kind of stick with him. Especially sex. He knows you will probably be mad at him, since you were drugged too, but he didn’t know that you weren’t just drunk.

Your eyes widen but you’re not surprised. He’s done more drugs than most of the population of California combined. He must have some kind of immunity. “Tell me.” You demand. “Tell me everything.”

“I don’t know.” He swallows harshly and gives a small shrug. “We came back to the hotel, but we started in the limo.” He flashes you a grin. “You demanded I eat you out. Told me that you hadn’t cum on someone’s face in a long time.”

You fluster, unable to believe you said that. “And did you?” You ask breathlessly. 

“Of course I fucking did.” He scoffs, “I practically laid on the floor of the limo so I could eat you out. You were bucking against my face like a goddamn bronco.” 

Your cheeks burn and you need to know more despite it being mortifying. “Then what?”

He smirks, amused with how flustered you look. “Then we came back here and had sex. In the bathtub, in the bed, in front of the windows.” He chuckles. “You liked that.”

There’s a flash in your mind of him pushing you up against the window, your cheek smashed against it as he rammed into you. “Oh God.” You choke, unable to believe that he fucked you like that. “No wonder I ache. God, thank God I’m on birth control.” You grip the towel tighter around your body, even though it’s ridiculous now he’s seen every inch of your body.

He hums, not mentioning how you had moaned about how good he felt. He’ll save that for himself. “You wanted it again, wanted to ride but you were so tired I stopped you.” You had pouted at him until he promised you could ride him in the morning. Although it seems like that won’t happen. “You can wear some of my clothes until you get your bags to the room.”

You want the floor to open and swallow you when he says that you wanted to ride him. It’s true you haven’t had sex for - who the fuck knows how long it has been. You can’t even remember. You had seen Dieter naked and now you can see why you wanted to ride his cock. Now you’re sober, you couldn’t do it because it’s Dieter Bravo. “Okay. I will wear some of your clothes then go get my things then I’m gonna go shopping and you are gonna stay here and call your manager to apologize.” You tell him, striding out of the bathroom and you walk into the closet to his suitcase, wrinkling your nose at the lack of options that don’t involve holes or stains. “You need new clothes too.” You tell him, holding up his tatty sweats.

Shrugging, he doesn’t understand why you are upset about his clothes. “So buy me some.” He offers. “Hate shopping. Never do it. All that was stuff I acquired.” Half the time it’s stuff that comes from lovers or once expensive clothes that he wears to death when he’s given them after modeling. “But don’t throw them away.” He huffs, a snatching shirt you had picked up away from you. “They’re comfortable.”

“Comfortable can look good too. These are - what the hell do you do in these clothes?” You pick up a tatty shirt and pull it over your head. “What’s your size? I’ll buy you some clothes. We can’t - I won’t be married to a homeless millionaire.” You scoff, “I promise you’ll be comfortable but you need to look good. Your entire image is your income.”

Dieter snorts and rolls his eyes. “I’m still getting worked, aren’t I?” He asks before he drops his towel and starts rooting around for a pair of boxers. “I need to look good on camera. And the makeup and hair people accomplish that.” He honestly doesn’t care about how he looks off set, comfort is his goal. He works long hours when he’s shooting a movie and it’s always uncomfortable. “I honestly don’t- oh! The last movie.” He rattles off sizes. “That’s what the tailor told me when I was fitted.”

“Okay. I’ll get you some new clothes. I just - I know you think I hate you but I want you to be successful. I want you to look good and be loved by your fans. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted and that’s my job. To make you look good. For people to love you. I’ll get you some new clothes and some new shoes. Those Tom’s…they aren’t it.”

“Hey….” Dieter pouts and looks down at the Tom’s he had pushed his feet into after sliding on his boxers. “I left my crocs at home.” He argues. “I could have worn them.” He would have too, he doesn’t care. Although he’s surprised by your speech about wanting things for him. Besides last night, you always seem to look at him like gum on the bottom of your shoe.

“God no. I will get my stuff and then we are going shopping. You’re coming with me so we can get you some new stuff.” You tell him, not taking no for an answer. “Let’s get my stuff and then we can go get started.” You shove your feet into your shoes, grateful you didn’t wear heels last night.

“I hate shopping.” He whines, huffing dramatically. “I hate it. It’s boring and people are always assholes.” He hates having to make small talk and all the fucking sales associates thought if they talked to him that he would buy more shit.

You roll your eyes, “tough shit. Your wife wants to go shopping.” You quip and make your way out of the closet to grab your purse, intent on going to your room to change. “Breakfast should be arriving soon. I’ll get my stuff, we can eat, and then we will go out.”

“Bossy.” The fact that his cock twitches doesn’t surprise him, he likes following orders sometimes. “Fine, we’ll go shopping.” He calls out as you walk out of the closet. “But I’m going to complain the whole time!”

****

You hold up the shirt against him, liking the purple against his skin tone. “I like this. What do you think?” You ask, knowing that people are watching you and taking photos but there’s nothing you can do.

“It’s fine.” Dieter huffs, hating the actual shopping more than the color or style of the shirt. He always feels like a rat in a glass cage when he goes shopping. “If you like it, get it. I’ll wear whatever.”

You huff back, hating his lack of enthusiasm and you know it’s because he hates being with you. “We will get it and then we can go, okay hon?” You promise, knowing he’s uncomfortable. “I won’t make you endure this anymore.” You take the shirt over to the cashier and you feel guilty when you see the total. “I’m sorry. Oh God. I didn’t know - I can put stuff back.” You tell him, picking up the clothes.

Dieter scoffs and takes the clothes out of your hand and sets them back down on the counter. “You want it, don’t you?” He asks, reaching into his pocket to pull out his little card case. The black card is quickly snatched up by the sales associate. “Besides, you told me you wanted to go shopping. Shopping means buying things.”

“Yeah but -” Your protest is cut short as the sales associate starts to fold the clothes. All of these are for Dieter. Yours are already on the way to the hotel. “I promise you I’ll pay you back.” You vow and he shakes his head. Dieter spends more than this a week on coke. 

“Anything to make you happy dear.” He sasses and you playfully slap him, a little too hard but you don’t want to look like you’re not flirtatious with the sales associate there. 

“Happy wife happy life.” You quip.

Dieter rolls his eyes and shoots the clerk a grin. “She’s already figured it out.” He tells them. “I just go along to get along.” He can almost say it with a straight face, but he looks over at you and shoots you a playful wink. “As long as you model the clothes you bought, or let me throw them on the floor, we’re good, baby.” He takes the opportunity to slide his hand down your back and squeeze your ass.

You want to be disgusted but you’ve had more flashes in your mind about how he fucked you and it’s beyond anything you could imagine. So sexy and intense. You find yourself being attracted to him and it’s so dangerous. You’re supposed to hate him, hate how he’s a PR nightmare, one that you’ve now gotten involved in, but you just want him to squeeze your ass again.

His grin gets wider when you don’t gasp and he leans in to kiss your cheek, making sure he drops another kiss right at the corner of your mouth. You’re a little looser than you were last night when the plane landed and he likes that. After your champagne at the strip club, he had ditched Cindy or whatever her fucking name was and it had been all about you. Not that what’s her name minded, she had latched onto some IG model that was there.

You can't stop the shiver that runs through your body and you hope he thinks it's from disgust. "Thank you." You tell the sales associate who promises to take your purchases back to your hotel room. You hold Dieter's hand as you walk back to your hotel. "Gotta let people take photos." You murmur, realizing how many people recognize him and you feel terrible that this is his life every day.

“I know.” He keeps his voice down, but he squeezes your hand. “That's why I hate shopping. The stores turn into a giant fucking fish bowl.” He’s feeling a little jittery, wishing you had let him take something before you left the hotel. But you had said you wanted people to see him happy and sober. Dieter didn’t mention that no one had seen him like that.

You notice how anxious he is and you feel awful for forcing him out like this. You can’t imagine being recognized like this. To be constantly under the public eye. You can understand why he finds solace in the drugs. “It’s okay. Don’t pay attention to them. You’re okay sweetheart. We are going back to the room.” You promise, feeling his hand shake in yours.

He grips your hand a little tighter and looks over at you, almost pathetically grateful that you are here. “Now you know why I’m normally baked.” He quips with a crooked grin.

You feel sorry for him, finally recognizing why he doesn’t dress nicer or go out or be sober. You can’t imagine the stress he must have even going out to the grocery store. You are swift to get him back into the hotel but you enter the elevator and what appears to be several young women all gasp when you enter. “Oh my God it’s Dieter Bravo.” One of them announces and you find yourself defensive when they start to take selfies without even asking. 

“Hey. Can you not just take his photo? You could at least ask.” You huff and one of the women points at you. 

“You’re his beard.” She declares. 

“His what?” You narrow your eyes. 

“He’s actually with a man but you are his cover up so female fans think he’s still an option. It’s okay honey, we all know you’re not his type anyway. He likes them looking like supermodels. You’re…average.” She drags her eyes down your body and you feel every insecurity you’ve tried to overcome rush back over you.

“Hey.” Dieter scowls and shakes his head, pushing the outstretched hands with phones away and reaches for you to tug you close to his side. “How about you not talk about my wife like that?” He demands. “Have I been with men? Yep, not a secret.” 

Dieter has never cared how he was perceived, he was too self absorbed for that, but he’d be damned if someone was going to insult his fake marriage. “And your logic makes zero fucking sense. I like men, but then I like women who look like supermodels, so she isn’t good enough?” He rolls his eyes and smirks. “Be jealous all you want but don’t be a bitch to her. And you can swing by the hotel room to hear how unattractive I find her later.”

You can’t deny that you are turned on by his display. His defense of you is sexy and you can’t stop the smirk appearing on your lips as the woman is shocked, blinking several times until her friends usher her off of the elevator when it arrives on their floor. “Thank you.” You tell him, “you didn’t have to do that.”

“Husbands protect their wives, right?“ he likes the way that your hand is on his chest, the admiration in your eyes appealing. It’s real, unlike a lot of the shit he gets. “Besides, they are fucking insane. You aren’t average, your fucking gorgeous.”

You fluster, caressing his chest before stepping away. You can’t get involved with him, this is a PR disaster to begin with, let alone getting actual emotions involved. He’s more than what you thought he was. “Thank you. You- you aren’t too bad yourself.” You tell him just as the elevator doors open and you walk to his suite.

He snorts, appreciating the sass and his eyes are glued to your ass as you walk. The maid has come while the two of you are gone and the suite is nice and tidy. “So, I guess we need to talk about what’s going to happen when we go back to L.A.” he doesn’t want to, but he also doesn’t want you lecturing him when the two of you had such a good moment.

You sigh, knowing he’s not gonna like your response. “We need to live together. Just until we divorce. The paps might catch me leaving my home or not being in your home. It will raise questions and we need people to think we are together and stop questioning…like that woman did. We need to - to make this work and when we divorce, you can tell everyone that I’m the evil woman that broke your heart so you can get all the attention and hopefully your next role.”

Dieter shakes his head. “No,” he frowns at the idea of what that would do to your career. “We’ll come up with something better than that.” He insists. “I- there’s three other bedrooms in the house.” He offers, looking over at the door to the bedroom of the suite. “You can have whatever room you want.” He sighs. “I’m a selfish asshole, but I’d never make you stay in the same room or sleep with me.”

You appreciate how he isn’t forcing you into more than what you have agreed. “It will only be for a few months. We need to suffer each other until people get bored of you being married. Tonight, we need to put on a show to convince the public we are married. I’m sorry this happened. I know you didn’t want to get married.” You sigh, having heard him say that several times when his manager would try to set him up on dates.

“Yeah, I know you don’t want to be married to me.” He reminds you with a rueful grin. “I’m not complaining though. I get to say I know what you look like when you cum.” Winking at you playfully. “So I’ve got that goin for me.” He’s thought about it all day today and he knows that it’s not going to happen, but it’s a nice thought.

You roll your eyes playfully and slap his chest. “That’s not gonna happen again. It was…a lapse in judgment. We can’t do that again. It will complicate things even more. That was…it was the drugs.” You lie despite knowing you’d love for Dieter to fuck you again.

“Yeah….the drugs.” Dieter frowns at the reminder and turns around to start striding to the bedroom. “I’m gonna go find my coke.” He calls over his shoulder. “You can do whatever you want. If my manger calls, tell her to fuck off, I’m on my honeymoon.

You chuckle, starting to unpack and hang up the clothes you’d bought him so he can pick out an outfit for later. Everything is stylish yet comfortable. You admire the dresses you’d bought for yourself, excited to wear something beautiful that you could never afford. Dieter lays on the bed, napping between snorting the coke, and he watches some movie while you get ready for your dinner. You take your time to do your hair and makeup, coming back out in a robe. “Bathroom is free. I’m gonna get changed.” You tell Dieter.

His hair is sticking up in every direction, not caring to style it after his shower this morning but he sits up when you walk past. Your makeup is sexy and your hair perfect. You look like an actress getting ready to perform her starring role. Right…this is just an act you are putting on so you can divorce him in six months. Dieter grunts and shuffles off the bed to trudge into the bathroom. If you want this to be a role, he can give you that. He’ll be your perfect co-star.

When you are ready, you walk back into the bedroom to find Dieter walking out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, water droplets still rolling down his skin, but his hair is styled and he has shaved. Fuck, he looks good. “You, uh, you look good like that.” You manage to choke out, hoping he likes your riskier outfit. You know that being with Dieter means you have to have a certain image. The man wouldn’t be married to someone who wears jeans and sneakers all day every day. So you hope he likes the skimpy dress you had bought for tonight.

His mouth drops open slightly, eyes fixed on the skin you are showing and his cock twitches. He loves it and he hates it, because he’s not going to be able to touch you. “You look amazing.” He compliments you breathlessly. “We need to see those cunts in the elevator again.” He chuckles. “Let them see I’m sporting a constant boner.”

“Thank you.” You giggle nervously, eyes dipping down to the slight tent under his towel and there’s a flash behind your eyes of you sucking his cock. Fuck, you can’t let him touch you again. You have to keep this professional. “Did you take viagra again?” You tease, sliding your feet into your heels to distract yourself from pulling him close and kissing him.

Scoffing, Dieter shakes his head. “Hell no.” He doesn’t add that there would be no point since he’s not getting laid on his birthday. “Natural reaction to you, sweetheart.” He turns and walks towards the closet. “Another reason I wear baggy clothes.”

You pause, watching him walk away, and you wonder if he’s just joking with you or if he’s being serious. Has he always found you attractive or does he even find you attractive now? After he is dressed, you swear your pussy drips because damn, he looks so sexy when he’s dressed up and tidy. “You look- you look good.” You choke, hoping your face doesn’t betray you, and you fumble to grab your purse so you can make your dinner reservation on time.

Dieter smirks and holds his arm out for you to take with a wink. “Can’t embarrass my wife when I take her out, can I?” He coos, knowing you hate being reminded that you married him. He can be charm itself when he wants to be and surprisingly, he only took a single Xanax while he was getting ready. The wedding band on his hand is foreign, but it somehow mixes with his other rings. “Ready to put on a show?”

With a sigh, you nod, wrapping your fingers around his arm and let him guide you out of the hotel room to the elevator. He seems…sober. You’re not used to seeing Dieter sober like this and you find you like him more. He’s not as brash or obnoxious. He’s charming and, surprisingly sweet. “I just want this to be successful so you don’t end up another failed Hollywood marriage. You don’t wanna beat Kim K and Britney on an annulment, do you?” You tease as you step onto the elevator and you lower your hand from his arm.

“First place is first place.” He jokes, looking up at the LED monitor that shows the floors rapidly descending. “Besides, I’m sure that whoever you are dating wants to kick my ass and have their girlfriend back.” He shoves his hands in his pockets, feeling twitching and he doesn’t want to touch you more than he needs to. He likes it too much. “Just blame everything on me. They’ll believe I did something stupid.”

You snort, “you think I’m-? First of all, no. I’m single. Have been for…longer than I care to admit. Second, I would never do what I did with you if I was with someone. I was drugged and - God, thank fuck I wasn’t with someone because we - it wasn’t exactly once that night.” You’ve had more flashes, able to piece most of your night together. The things he did to you…they should honestly be illegal, it felt far too good. “Legally, I’m yours. Reality, I’m no one’s.” You answer him, feeling a little insecure that you haven’t dated anyone for a while since you’ve been so busy with work.

“Yeah, I get it.” The doors open and Dieter takes a breath before plastering a happy look on his face. “The only reason you would ever look at me is because you were drugged.” He sighs under his breath, his low tone at odds with his expression. “Can you please stop reminding me how much you hate me. It’s my birthday.”

You take his hand, “I promise you I will make sure you have a good birthday. Come on, let’s go get dinner. I’m starving. Then we can go dancing.” You can’t wait to let loose a little and remember it instead of the crazy night you had before.

The photographers are everywhere, lights flashing and Dieter just smiles and acts proud that he is with you. Lifting up your joined hands and kissing the back of yours. “Dieter! What made you marry your PR agent?” 

Dieter laughs and gives you a smoldering smirk. “Well I’ve been in love with her for forever and finally managed to convince her that I was serious. She thought I was acting!”

He is acting but damn, the loving look in his eyes almost convinced you that he loves you. “And we decided to just go for it since I’ve been in love with him too.” You coo, kissing Dieter’s cheek and the cameras flash once more. You gasp when Dieter turns his head to press his lips to yours and you let him kiss you for a moment. “Sorry fellas. We are gonna be late for dinner. Thank you.” You declare, squeezing Dieter’s hand and he guides you through the crowd of paps.

Getting into the car is relatively easy and he allows you to slide into the car before him. The driver pulls away and he looks over at you with a smirk. “Looks like they believed you.” His lips burn where he had kissed you and he turns to look out the window so he doesn’t try to do it again. “They might fall in love with you.”

You snort, looking out of the window. “If you don’t like me, I doubt they will love me. I’m just a five minute wonder. When the Kardashians or the Hadid sisters do something, I’ll be old news and that’s when we can divorce under the radar. We just gotta make them think we are in love for the time being. I know that will be hard but you’re an Oscar winning actor so you should be able to manage it.” You wonder if you’ll be able to manage it. He’s more than what you thought he was, already changing your opinion after twenty four hours in his company. Maybe it’s a residue high from the drug. You don’t know.

Dieter sighs and doesn’t comment. It won’t do any good. You wouldn’t believe him if he told you that while he hadn’t been in love with you, he had found you very attractive and he liked the sass and the fact that you didn’t put up with his shit. He was contrary by nature and you were just so good. And last night….fuck, you showed him how wild you could be.

When you arrive at the restaurant, there’s another throng of paps and fans with their cameras but the restaurant staff usher you inside to a private booth and you exhale in relief when you lean back against the cool leather. “I don’t know how you handle that all the time.” You say to Dieter when he sits beside you.

“Drugs.” Dieter jokes, giving a small shrug as he reaches for the water glass. It’s not wine, but he will order a bottle quick enough and he’s oddly thirsty. “Some days it’s okay, especially when I meet someone who is passionate about movies, but it can be a lot when it’s the paps.”

“I can only imagine. It’s…intense. I’m sorry you have to deal with that. I sit at a desk and don’t really see that side of it. The reality of it. For so long, I’ve just done damage control on different situations you’ve gotten into like when you hit the pap and I never - I always thought you overreacted but now I know.”

He stares at you a moment, amazed that you had just said that. When he had hit the pap, you had raked his ass over the coals. “Thanks.” He ducks his head slightly to study the menu. “Hopefully they don’t bother you too badly.”

"I can handle them. They just need to be bored by me and they will move on. If we have an orgy in the middle of the strip, then we might be on their radar." You joke, browsing the menu. "Shit. This place is pricey. I didn't -" You are cut when Dieter rolls his eyes and tuts. 

"Hellooo?? My wife gets whatever she wants. Plus, I make way more money than I need. Probably why I buy so much coke." He murmurs to himself and you fluster at the way he easily calls you his wife even though no one is around to hear. 

The waiter comes over and Dieter orders the wine and you soon order your meal. "I don't - I haven't really been anywhere this nice before. My parents always preferred to cook homemade meals and special occasions were few and far between and my exes, none really took me anywhere super nice."

He snorts and rolls his eyes. “Wow, sounds like you dated some winners.” He doesn’t mind spending money, the people he hangs out with would verify that. But someone like you needs to be appreciated. “Well, while you are married to me, you can do whatever you want and eat everywhere you’ve wanted to try.” He lifts his brows. “A Hollywood wife must be seen after all.”

You chuckle, "I guess so." You watch the wine sommelier pour the wine for Dieter to taste and he nods, letting the man pour you a glass before filling Dieter's up. "To being fake married." You toast softly with a smirk on your lips as you clink your glass against his. "To being fake married." He responds and you take a sip of the wine, moaning in appreciation of the fruity full bodied red wine.

Your moan punches him in the gut, making it twist as he members the way you sounded last night. You still haven’t realized that he knew that the two of you got married. He wonders what you will say when you rationalize it out.

You eagerly dig into your appetizer. So hungry after so much stress. You see Dieter fidget and flex his fingers as he plays with his food. “Is everything okay?” You ask, reaching for his left hand. Another flash plays through your mind of when he slid the diamond ring onto your finger. You gasp and squeeze his hand. “Do you - if you remember last night us having - then you must remember us getting married?”

Shit…..Dieter stares down at his plate and swallows, suddenly not hungry. You are going to be pissed at him. “I do.” He admits, not looking up. He doesn’t want to see the anger on your face. Plus it hurts less when he gets slapped if he doesn’t see it coming.

You inhale sharply, now knowing that he married you and remembers it. He knew what he was doing. You feel betrayed. "Why?" You whisper, unable to muster anything else.

Dieter sighs and leans back in his chair, wishing that he had done some Coke before dinner. “It was your idea.” He reveals. “You climbed into my lap and told me that you had always wanted to slap me and then kiss me.” He huffs out a small chuckle. “So I told you to do it.” He picks up his wine glass and takes a long gulp. “It went from there, but you asked me to marry you.”

Your eyes widen. “I- I asked you- oh God.” You lean back in your seat, absorbing the news that you asked him to marry you. “Why - did I give a reason why? I need you to tell me everything.” You order, leaning closer to him.

 He gives a small shrug. “I thought you had just decided to take the stick out of your ass.” He defends himself. “Plus I wasn’t close to sober. But we made out in the club, damn near had sex in that booth. Then we went cruising down the strip and you saw the chapel and demanded we pull over.” He chuckles. “You claimed you loved those cliche movies about eloping and something about it could be a weird version of married at first sight?” He shrugs. “I didn’t know what you were talking about, but you were happy.”

You stare at him, tears stinging in your eyes and you swallow harshly. The tang of the wine on your lips when you lick them. “Wow. I- wow. It was me.” You can’t believe it was you that suggested getting married but you supposed it makes sense now. You sigh and reach for his hand. “I’m so sorry. It’s my fault we are in this fucked up mess and I - oh God. I’m so sorry sweetheart. I shouldn’t - my parents got divorced when I was a teenager so I guess I’ve always wanted to get married and do it right but now I’ve completely fucked that up.”

He reaches out and covers your hand with his other one. “It’s okay.” He knows how you feel now, in the light of day. He should have known you weren’t yourself, but he convinced himself that you had just given into bottled up feelings. It’s not true though, you are horrified at being married to him. So you’ll get it annulled or get a divorce or whatever. “We’ll have you single again in no time.” He chuckles and sends you a wink. “Smart girl, we got married without a prenup too.”

Your eyes widen, “oh God. I didn’t - I don’t want your money Dieter. You can keep it. I don’t - I don’t want you to think I did this because of - because of the money. I didn’t.” You promise, “I don’t - oh God. What a mess…and it’s all my fault. I’m so sorry.” You shake your head, knowing that your job is to protect his image and you’re the one who got you in this position.

He chuckles, enjoying the abject horror on your face. “Nah. I’ll just sign up for some really shitty movie, Cliff Beasts 75 or some shit, and tell the press at the junket that it’s so I could pay my alimony.” He teases, squeezing your hand so you don’t think he’s serious.

You roll your eyes at him, half playful, and you look down at your joined hands. For some reason, it feels far too right to hold his hand, even with the ghastly amount of rings he has on each hand. “So you wanted to marry me…even though I’ve done nothing but be rude to you?” You ask, frowning again.

“What can I say?” He gives a small shrug. “I’m a masochist.” His joke is meant to make you roll your eyes and scoff, perhaps say something sarcastic. Anything to keep you from delving into why he thought marrying you was a good idea. He was high, sure, but he never was so high that he married someone else before. His insecurities and loneliness came out last night and in typical Dieter fashion, he was selfish.

You stare at him, unsure of what to think, but you can see something in his eyes. You just can’t put your finger on it. “I- I’m sorry I’ve been such a bitch to you. I should’ve been more professional and I understand why you…self medicate. It must be so overwhelming.” You squeeze his hand just as the waiter comes over with your food.

He doesn’t respond with a pithy reply, instead he just leans back and lets the server set down the food. He speaks when the extra ears have left. “I get it, I’m annoying.” He gives a small shrug. “Byproduct of being lonely, I guess.”

You feel sorry for him which surprises you. You can’t imagine how lonely it must be to not know who your true friends are. To know that everyone wants something from you. “I- I really am sorry Dieter. I don’t think you’re as annoying now that I understand why. You’re just…eccentric.” You tell him and start to eat, wondering what you can do to make this man happy. How bizarre, to have gone from loathing him to…something else in less than twenty four hours.

“Don’t feel sorry for me.” He’s slightly prickly after exposing something so raw. “My life is great. Drugs, sex, whatever I want.” He huffs like it’s ridiculous to imagine being unhappy. “I live in Sherman Oaks.”

You snort, “money doesn’t buy happiness. It’s clear that you are lonely and you buy your friends and your lovers. It’s…I want more for you Dieter. You deserve to be truly happy. I know we have fucked up with this marriage but you deserve to be with someone who loves you.

Dieter sighs, knowing that will never happen. He either fucks up or they do. Or they never loved him at all. “Can we talk about something less depressing?” He whines before he changes the subject. “Like you showing me your tits at the strip club?”

Your eyes widen, “I did what?!?” Your mouth drops and you lower your knife and fork. 

“Yeah. You flashed your tits while we were in the club. Said you could get up on that stage and make me hard.” Dieter smirks at how mortified you are. 

“Oh my God. I didn’t.” You cringe, knowing you must’ve embarrassed yourself while high thanks to your constant need to suppress your wilder side.

“You did.” He chuckles and leans in. “But you were right, I did get hard.” He smirks and winks at you. “Got really hard. You liked it. Really liked it.” You had loved how hard he was and that he was a multiple rounds kind of guy.

You fluster, another flash in your mind of you taking his cock into your mouth in the limo, and your cheeks burn. “Oh shit. I did. God, I- I didn’t know - I’ve never behaved that way. I just - oh no. I’m so sorry.” You wince, not even wanting to know what he thought of you. “I, uh, I never behave that way. At least not outside of my kind.”

Dieter grins, eyes alight with dirty delight. “Yeah?” He gives a low chuckle. “You have a lot of dirty thoughts swimming around in that pretty little head if yours?” He nods. “Yeah, you do. You probably read all those smutty romances and watch porn thinking about what you would do if you just let yourself.”

You fluster, thinking of all of the books you’ve read and the porn you’ve watched. “A lot of dirty thoughts.” You murmur, looking into those beautiful dark eyes of his that are just one of the reasons he’s such a popular actor. You lick your lips and shift a little closer to him. “We shouldn’t - we should keep this professional.” Your eyes dip down to his lips and you remember how good it felt to kiss him. You want that again.

“Maybe.” Dieter gives a careless shrug, as if it’s of no consequence. “Although….we already have. And you are my wife.” He reminds you with a grin. “So technically speaking, fucking each other’s brains out would be keeping it professional.” He can tell you are curious. If it’s because you don’t remember a lot of last night or if you want to see what Dieter Bravo is like in bed, he doesn’t know. “You know what they say. What happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas.”

You want to kiss him, fuck, you really do, but crossing that line isn’t something you can let go. You pull back, swallowing down the lump in your throat. “I- I don’t think it would, considering everyone takes our photo.” You gesture to the people across the room who are trying to covertly take your photo. You go back to your food, knowing it’s for the best. “We can go dancing after this, show off those infamous moves.” You nudge him playfully, trying to lighten the mood.

He wants to pout, but he knows that he’s not going to push. He never pushes, it goes against his code. “Okay.” He lown meal and forks up a bite. You don’t want to sleep with him again. Fitting for the woman who hadn’t even wanted to come here. He can see you retreat back into your professional armor and he sighs softly. “We’ll dance for like an hour, then I think I’m just going to go to bed early.” He decides. “There’s got to be another baggie in the room somewhere.”

You sigh, wishing he wouldn’t escape in drugs. Maybe some therapy would help him process better. You push that thought aside and know that you’re not his actual wife so that would be overstepping. The rest of dinner is spent in silence and you groan when you finish dessert. “I don’t think I’ve had a meal that good…ever.” You dread to think what the bill is going to say.

Groaning in agreement, Dieter doesn’t even look at the bill when it comes, pulling his wallet out of his jacket pocket and handing the card to the waiter as he reaches for his wine glass to drain the last sip. “Have you decided what club?”

“Not a strip club.” You snort and he pouts, making you playfully slap his arm. “Not a strip club. There’s this club at Venetian that’s supposed to be nice. Let’s go there and we can dance then go back to the room because these shoes aren’t gonna hold up an entire night.” You stretch your legs, accidentally brushing against his. “Thank you for dinner.” You tell him when the waiter sets the bill down.

“You’re welcome.” For all his douchebaggery, Dieter tips. He had spent too many years waiting tables to survive while he was working towards breaking into the business. He signs a large tip and scrawls his signature before he takes his card and closes the leather booklet. “Ready?” He asks, standing up and moving over to your chair.

You take his hand, happy to keep your hands joined as he guides you out of the restaurant and through the hotel to your awaiting limo. Dieter tells the driver the name of the club and he leans back in the leather seat as the driver makes his way across the strip. “Can I ask you a question?” You ask and he chuckles, “you just did.” You roll your eyes and look at him and he nods. “Why do you do the drugs? What about it makes you - makes you happy?”

That hadn’t been the question he was expecting. He frowns slightly and thinks about how to answer. “It’s freeing. Fun.” He gives a small shrug. “I like the way I think, the way I feel when I’m high. It can be creative.” He snorts. “Or it can make me not give a fuck about what’s going on.”

You nod in understanding, “I can get that. Just - just being you without any kind of mental barrier. I just - last night I was free. I have never acted like that before.” You admit, “but don’t you ever get tired of it? Don’t you ever want something real?”

Dieter scoffs. “Real checked out when my first multi million dollar role was announced.” He tells you. “Real left when I slept with someone only to have them sell pictures to The Sun.” He gives a shrug that’s meant to hide the hurt and betrayal that he had felt when he realized that he was just some kind of commodity to a lot of people. “Maybe one day, when I’m old and the roles stop coming in, or they aren’t blockbusters or Oscar winners.”

You feel sad for him, you can see the pain in his eyes. He feels used and not truly loved, he has been wrung out for every penny people can get out of him. “I’m sorry you’ve been treated like that. You deserve to be treated like any other human. Just because you’re famous doesn’t mean you don’t get to be treated with respect. I- I can understand now why you act that way you do. It’s an escape and a facade. If you don’t let them see the real you, you won’t get hurt.”

“Knew you were a smart cookie.” It’s not exactly a compliment, because it means he’s let you see beyond his facade. He looks out of the car window and chuckles to himself. “Want to flash the strip?” He asks, making a crude joke to lighten the mood.

You chuckle, rolling your eyes at him. “No I don’t. I’m not even drunk.” You tell him, “or drugged. God, I really did flash my tits everywhere. Thank God no one got a photo of it.” You cringe at the thought.

“Oh there are photos.” Dieter smirks, holding up his phone. “But only I get to see pics of my wifey like that.” He had every intention of deleting them, but hadn’t remembered to do it yet. “You wanna see?”

Your eyes widen, “you took photos? Oh my God. You asshole.” You slap his arm making him give a dramatic “ow” then you demand he shows you. He grins and unlocks his phone, pulling up the photos he had taken. “Oh God. I- I look - I look hot.” You settle on that word. You look happy and carefree and hot. Words you never thought you’d put together.

“Yeah you do.” You do look hot, doing exactly what you wanted and not apologizing for it. The picture where you were pushing your tits together and winking at him is his favorite. Inviting him to come suck on him. He had waited until the limo to do that. “But no one else got photos. Apparently there’s not supposed to be photos taken in the club.”

You stare at the photos, not even recognizing yourself. You look so happy. You don’t remember the last time you were that happy. Work took over and then your relationships were lackluster and you haven’t had much time for yourself. “That’s good. You, uh, can you send those to me? I really like them.” You admit quietly, loving that side of yourself that you’ve never seen.

He lifts his brow in surprise, not expecting you to want to keep any evidence of you letting loose. “Sure.” He nods and opens his messages to start sending you the photos. If you want them, you will have them. “I’ll delete them off my phone after I send them to you, but I don’t believe in that sharing photos shit. That’s disgusting.”

You have a new appreciation for him, knowing that he is many things but he isn’t a liar. “Thank you.” You kiss his cheek, wanting to thank him for being a good man. Your phone buzzes and you ignore it since the limo pulls up outside of the Venetian. “More paps but after that, it’s time to celebrate your birthday. First round is on me.” You promise, grabbing your purse as the driver opens the door.

Dieter follows you out of the limo, wrapping his arm around your waist and starting to weave through the paps. If he didn’t know better, he would think someone tipped them off. Smiling and grinning like he’s happy they are all witnessing his arrival, he tugs you closer. “Talk later! Gotta dance!”

You sigh, knowing you will need to investigate who tipped the paps off. You imagine it’s his assistant who arranged the reservations. “I’m sorry. I don’t - I’ll gotta find out who tipped them off.” You tell him as you take his hand, walking through the casino and you sigh in relief when you see the entrance to the club after several fans took photos of you and Dieter. “It’s exhausting. Having to be ‘on’ all the time.” You can’t imagine how he handles it. You enter the club, skipping the line, and are escorted to the VIP section.

Ordering a drink is quick, the server specifically assigned to your section for preferential treatment. “What do you want, sweetheart?” He asks, leaning in and speaking into your ear over the loud music. His arm is wrapped around your shoulders and the entire world would believe that you two are are enamored with each other.

You force yourself to not turn your head, your lips would be so close, and you know that kissing him, or touching him, would complicate things even more. He looks so good though, the lights flashing over his face, and you want to just protect him from the fucked up world he is in and keep him safe and...loved. Shit, you gotta push that thought out of your mind. You mumble that you want a vodka soda and Dieter orders a whole bottle. "Gonna be a good night." He promises, his lips against your ear and it makes you shiver.

The music plays as the two of you wait for your drinks. He’s aware that there are eyes on the two of you, taking advantage of it by stroking your arm and leaning close, nuzzling your cheek with his nose. “You look delicious in that dress.” He breathes into your ear. “Can’t wait to dance with you.”

You try to smother your whimper as your entire body lights up from his simple touch. Biting your lip, you turn your head to look at him and you swear he looks angelic with the lights flashing over his handsome face. He’s no angel though, he’s the devil in disguise. “Let’s dance.” You tell him, not bothered about the drinks.

Dieter smirks as you practically drag him out onto the dance floor. He doesn’t normally dance as much as wildly gyrate, but he can grind on someone. It helps that even though he’s behind you, you are leading the dance, something that is wildly sexy to him as he lets you take control.

You grab his hands, placing them on your hips as you grind back against him. You may be stiff and starchy most days to be professional but you love to dance. You don’t care who’s watching, deciding to finally let loose and you grind your ass against Dieter. Dipping low and pushing up against him as you grab his hands to help you stand upright. You put on a show that he clearly likes if his hardening cock pressing against your ass is anything to go by.

He groans, grinding against you and gripping your hips harshly. “God.” He hisses in your ear, loving how uninhibited you are being. “You are so dirty under that prissy veneer, aren’t you?” He teases. “You would do anything right now, wouldn’t you?”

​​You gasp when he bites down on your earlobe. “God yes. I would. I just - I haven’t had anyone to bring this side out of me.” His words send a thrill through you and you grind back even harder, reaching up to wrap your arms around his neck, arching your back.

Chuckling against your ear, he slides his hand down your hip, fingers teasing the edge of your dress and tracing the hem. “Let me.” He demands, waiting to see if you push his hand away. When you don’t, his cock throbs against your ass as he dips his fingers under the dress and starts caressing the skin of your thighs as he works his way higher to the beat of the music. 

You don’t push his hand away, leaning back against him, and you whimper when his fingers press against your clit through your panties. “Fuck Dieter.” You moan into his neck when you turn your head. You know you shouldn’t be doing this, this is going to complicate things and you haven’t got the excuse that you’re drugged. You’ve had a couple of glasses of wine. You are practically sober and his hand is under your dress.

“You said that so many times last night.” He coos in your ear, rubbing your clit over your panties. “Fuck Dieter, harder.” He moans. “Fuck Dieter, your in my guts.” He slips a finger under the fabric and pushes it inside you, his thumb still outside your panties and pressed against your clit.

You don’t have the capacity to be embarrassed at what you had said to him last night. The flashes you had gotten told you that you loved what he had done to you. His thick digit inside of you has you gasping his name and his chuckle makes you gush, getting more aroused while you continue grinding on him. “God, what else did I say?” You ask with a raspy moan.

“That my cock was the best you ever had and you wanted to ride it.” He pumps his finger in and out of your tight, hot cunt - loving how you’re gripping it. It’s dirty, doing it right here on the dance floor and he loves it. “Whined when I told you to go to sleep. I think you would have slept with me inside you.”

His words cause a whine to rise up your throat, making you grab onto his hair as he works his digit in and out of you. "Oh God. That - that means you must've done a good job making me cum. Was I - was I good for you? Did you enjoy it?" You ask, knowing he's had more sex than you've had hot dinners so it's a valid question and you hope he doesn't lie to appease you.

“Fuck yes it was good.” He groans in your ear and slides another finger under the panties to push in with the other on the next twist of his wrist. “Fucking hot and tight. Like a perfect glove.” He twitches against your ass.

His second finger stretches you just right and you start to lean more against him as he works you towards an orgasm. "Oh fuck baby. You're gonna make me - it's so good. Dieter. I-" You turn your head to bite down on his neck. The music is loud but you don't need to alert people around you that Dieter just made you cum. His fingers work you through it and you slump back against him, feeling almost dizzy from the pleasure. "So good." You murmur, eyes closed as you breathe him in.

Dieter whines as he pulls his soaked fingers out of your cunt, holding them up so the shiny cum can catch the light in front of your eyes before he slides them into his mouth with a grin. You’re leaning against him and not moving to the music any more. “Time for that drink, right?” He murmurs in your ear, kissing the shell again.

You nod dumbly, feeling his cock hard and twitching against your ass as he guides you back to the VIP section. When you are under the stroud of exclusive cover, you reach for his pants. "Want to make you feel good too." All care of your PR job goes flying out the window as you scramble to pull his hard cock out of his pants. The section you're in is private and the curtains hide you from near everyone in the club. When his cock is finally free, you groan at the sight of it. It's beautiful, thick and veiny and you immediately lean down to take him into your mouth, not caring about anything other than making him cum.

“Shit.” Dieter hisses at the surprise move, throwing his head back as his hand comes to rest on the back of yours. He hadn’t expected this. Maybe some teasing, but he knows you aren’t drunk or have taken anything. This is you, taking him into your mouth and moaning around him like he’s a fucking lollipop you’ve craved. “Fuck, baby. You are so dirty, I love it.” His other hand slides around your side to squeeze your tit through your dress. “My wifey’s a little exhibitionist, sucking my cock in the club.”

This is so wrong. You shouldn’t be doing this but fuck, you can’t stop yourself. His moans and the way he touches you spurs you on and you bob on his cock, using your hand to work the length that you can’t take down your throat.

Letting out a needy whine, Dieter’s eyes close and he shuffles his hips up slightly. Wanting you to try to take him deeper. “Oh fuck baby, that mouth, oh fuck it’s so good.” He rambles, practically shuddering under the hot pressure of your palette against the head. “So good, you- fuck baby.” He forces his eyes open again to watch you suck his cock, amazed that this is happening and everyone is sober. 

You’re sober but you’re also drunk on Dieter. Taking him deeper until you are choking around his thick cock. You breathe through your nose, working him deeper until you aren’t gagging. Hollowing your cheeks, you press your tongue against the underside of his cock. Your eyes water but you force yourself to open them to meet his gaze, wanting to look at him.

Dieter is such a fucking needy little shit that the moment that you lock eyes with him, his entire body gives in. Gasping out your name, his cock starts to throb, face twisting pleasure while he is pumping ropes of salty cum into your mouth. 

You struggle to keep up, swallowing each spurt of cum, but a drop escapes to drip down your chin and lands on his pants. Working him through his orgasm, you pull off of his cock and kiss the tip, loving the way he twitches, then you lean down to lap up the drop that is threatening to stain his pants.

“Jesus Christ.” When you are sitting up, Dieter lunges forward to press his lips to yours. Sliding his tongue into your mouth, not caring about the taste of his own cum in your mouth, just needing to kiss you. Dragging you closer while he groans and deepens the kiss for a long minute before he pulls away and sighs as he nudges his nose against yours. “Shit…I wasn’t expecting a birthday blowjob.” He giggles, practically euphoric.  

“Neither was I.” You admit with a giggle, kissing his jaw. “I just - I can’t seem to stop touching you now. I want to give you birthday sex.” You murmur, wanting to recreate the night before and relive the flashes you get here and there. “Plus it will be good if people believe we are actually married, like not just on paper. Maybe a noise complaint will help our case.” You tease, caressing his chest through the open buttons of his shirt.

He smirks and nods eagerly. “I can make a noise complaint happen.” He jokes, before he leans in and kisses you again. “You want to have sex with me?” He asks, lifting his brows as he looks at you softly. He hadn’t expected this, this change of heart towards him, but he’s not turning down getting you into bed again. 

You nod eagerly. Ready for him to make you cum again. “Yes. Want you to fuck me until I scream your name. Until we get a noise complaint and everyone knows that dieter Bravo fucks his wife hard.”

He knows you don’t mean that beyond the fact that you accidentally married him. Fully aware that in a few months time, you are going to divorce him. But right now, the fact that he has a wife and that wife wants him to make a claim on her has him standing up. Shoving his cock back into his pants and zipping up, he grabs your hand. “We’re leaving.” He growls. 

Your cunt clenches at his growl and you let him practically drag you out of the VIP section after he slams some cash down on the table to cover the drinks you never had. When you are out of the club, he ignores anyone that talks to him as he practically drags you to the car, pushing you inside. As soon as the door closes, you are straddling his lap and pressing your lips to his.

He’s greedy right now, pushing your dress up to your hips and nearly ripping your top as he pulls your tits. Dragging his lips away from yours so he can kiss down your chest. He’s not hard yet, that will take at least until you get back to the hotel, but he can suck on your tits and see what you like while his body recovers enough to fuck you. 

When he takes your nipple into his mouth, you arch your back and cry out, tangling your fingers in this hair. “Oh fuck baby. That feels good.” You gasp when he bites down on the sensitive flesh.

Dieter loves tits. Big ones, small ones, he just loves them. He might have a bit of a lactation kink, but he’s never been with someone that had milk, but he always imagines it as he’s sucking on them. He flicks his tongue over the hard flesh and suckles eagerly, making it even stiffer before he scrapes his teeth over it to make you shudder. Pushing your tits together and licking between them happily before he buries his face in the cavity and groans happily. 

You moan, loving how fucking eager he is, and he switches rapidly between nipples, sucking each one and making you shift to grind down onto him, your panties soaked. You know this is a bad idea but you can’t stop yourself. He’s sexy, in a garbage driver kind of way - and you find yourself needing him more than you need air. “Oh fuck. Yes. Just like that.” You hiss when he nibbles the flesh.

He grunts, keeping his mouth busy. His hands sliding down and gripping your ass as you roll your hips. Reaching around with one hand to push your panties to the side so your clit can grind down against the seam of his pants. He doesn’t care if you soak them and ruin them, he wants to see you cum again. 

“Fuck.” You cry, grinding down until your clit rubs against the zipper of his pants, catching just right to make you shudder. His mouth continues to nip and suck on your tits and you swear you’ve never been this wet. You must have soaked his pants by now and you haven’t even cum yet. “Fuck Diet. You’re gonna - I’m gonna cum.” You warn him just before you fall over the edge, crying out as you shake above him.

Groaning into your tits, Dieter feels you fall apart. Your body tense and trembling gives him a rush of endorphins and his flaccid cock is starting to respond, hardening slowly as you grind against him. He holds you close and continues to lave affection on your tits until you slump against him, panting breathlessly. “I want to die like this.” Dieter’s comment is muffled from between your tits. “Just like this.”

You chuckle breathlessly, caressing his neck and running your fingers through his hair as you try to catch your breath, still feeling the haze of your orgasm washing over you. “If you die right now, I’ll get all your money.” You tease, knowing he knows that you don’t care about that stuff.

“Worth it.” He huffs against your damp skin. “Just bury me with a mold of your tits in my face.” He jokes, pulling away from you to kiss up your chest and chin before placing a surprisingly gentle kiss on your lips.

You sigh against his mouth, a little shocked by the tender kiss, and you respond, gently kissing him back. Your hands slide down to caress his chest and you nibble on his bottom lip, in no rush to pull away. This is dangerous, being this intimate and comfortable, but you know things will change when you get back to L.A and have to face reality.

The driver pulls to a stop outside the hotel and Dieter groans slightly, pulling your panties back into place and tugging your skirt down as he kisses you one last time. “Time to get out of the car and pretend we weren’t making out back here.” He smirks and looks down at his wet crotch. “Although that’s gonna be hard.”

You fluster, biting your lip as you try to compose yourself. These damn hotels make you walk through the casino to get to your room. You take Dieter's hand once he exits the limo and the cameras flash, making you lean into his side. "They definitely know what we were doing." You whisper, giggling when people stare at his crotch. "Helps confirm we are really married."

“I don’t think that we will have them convinced just yet.” Dieter winks at you before he hauls you close and kisses you again. It’s wet and dirty, the kind of kiss that leads to sex and he’s very happy when he hears you moan into his mouth, clinging to him.

You whimper into his mouth, nails digging into his shirt-clad shoulders as he slides his tongue against yours. Cameras flash and you pull back, knowing that you need to get him to the hotel room now before you fuck him here and in front of fans with cameras and the paps. "Need to - to get to the room." You manage to pant, grabbing his hand to practically drag him to the elevator.

Chuckling, he eagerly follows you into the car, somehow managing to be in there with only one other couple. “We’re gonna have to behave.” He warns you playfully, smacking your ass before he turns to the other couple. “Sorry, it’s our honeymoon and she’s irresistible.” He shares a smirk with the older man, and then grins back at you.

You slap his chest, shaking your head despite the grin on your face. Shit. He’s not too bad when he’s not playing up being an obnoxious Oscar winning movie star. The other couple - older - just chuckle. “I remember when she used to be like that for me.” He winks at his wife. 

“What do you mean used to be? Still am.” The wife smirks and the husband’s eyebrows raise. 

“Have a good night.” The husband says when the elevator arrives on their floor. 

“You too.” You respond and the wife smirks over her shoulder, “oh we will.”

“Damn, he’s gonna get lucky too.” Dieter huffs in amusement. The question of if you would still be that hot for him when you're their age is on the tip of his tongue, but then he remembers that he’ll be alone again by his next birthday. He pushes that out of his mind, grabbing you and flattening you against the wall of the car, his tongue desperate to chase away the thought and have as much of you as he can while you are still here.

You moan as his tongue slides against yours again. It’s like you can’t get enough of him. Never mind having a drug in your system last night, you’re certain that half of that was Dieter. Your entire body is on fire and you struggle to find any reason as to why you hated him. The bell dings and you slide out from the wall and your husband. 

“Does the birthday boy want some birthday sex? You want me to ride you like I promised?” You coo, smirking as you start to walk down the hall to his suite. When he starts to follow you, nodding his head eagerly, you grin and grab the key from your purse. “Better catch me then.” You rush down the hall, knowing it’s gonna be hard for him to run with his cock hard and throbbing already.

“Fuck.” Dieter groans, watching you take off and he starts to shuffle after you. “Wait up!” He whines, actually enjoying himself even though he wishes he was still crushed against you. It’s been a long time since sex was just playful and he is loving how easy it seems to be with you. You aren’t the uptight woman you pretend to be. “Fuck baby, watch that ass.” He huffs.

You giggle, trying to open the door, when he grabs you. You struggle to unlock the door with his hands everywhere and your hand shakes as you press the key against it, finally managing to open the door. “You’re just too slow, old man.” You tease, kicking off your shoes as you step into the suite and spin out of his arms to set your purse down.

“Fuck you I’m too old.” He huffs, slapping your ass harshly and then grabbing the hem of your dress to start dragging it up. “I’ll show you old.” He drags you back against him, grinding his cock against your ass. “Want you to ride me, I’ve been thinking about it all fucking day.” He admits with a grin, biting down on your shoulder.

You grind back against him, head lolling as he kisses up your neck, and you gather your senses enough to tell him to take his pants off. "Get undressed. Now." You order, desperate to sink down onto his cock. "Then sit back against the headboard."

“Yes ma’am.” Dieters draws out, happy to follow that order. Disrobing is careless, tossing clothes on the floor without any care until he is standing completely naked, save for his black socks. “Keep my feet warm.” He teases with a wink before he crawls up on the bed and leans back against the headboard. Wanting to see what you will say about the ridiculous look of just being in socks.

You chuckle at the sight of him in his socks, his cock resting on his lower stomach, and you push your panties down, kneeling on the bed and shuffling forward until you are hovering over his cock. “Like an old man keeping his socks on.” You tease, reaching between you to grip his cock and position him at your entrance. You slowly sink down onto him,  mouth falling open at how he stretches you.

“Does that make you the young gold digger?” He demands, leaning forward to kiss you and drag you to his chest. Wanting to feel your bare breasts against his skin while you get used to him. He knows you are probably sore from yesterday since you had told him it had been awhile since you’ve had sex. “Gonna fuck your old husband to death?”

You chuckle, “yeah. Especially since we have no prenup. You want me to - to fuck you to death?” You joke, moaning when you manage to rock your hips slowly until he’s fully inside of you. “Oh God. How don’t I remember how this feels?” You say to yourself.

“Blacked out from bliss.” Dieter huffs, reaching up and pinching your nipple. “Hearts gonna give out when you squeeze me with that tight pussy of yours.” He groans when you do just that, cock twitching inside you. “Fuck me baby.” He whines, wanting to feel you move.

You grab onto his shoulder for leverage, lifting yourself up until only the head of his cock is notched inside of you. You meet those entrancing dark brown eyes of his and sink down. Starting a little slow but building up the pace until you are rocking your hips on his cock.

“Fuck.” He pants out the word, loving how you feel around him, riding him. He caresses your hip and looks down to watch you take him. “Look at that. That pussy must be so full.”

"It is. Oh fuck. It is. I - never been this full." You admit shifting to lean back. Your hands braced on his knees as you grind forward, allowing him an even better view to see your pussy. "Fuck. This is just - so good."

Dieter is entranced, loving how your lips are stretching around him. It makes him throb and he reaches down and rubs your clit. Loving your gasp and the way your body shudders. “You look good on my cock.” He groans.

“Feels so good.” Your thighs start to shake and you nearly collapse backwards as you try to continue grinding down on his cock. It becomes too much, his fingers on your clit and the head of his cock hitting just right on every grind down, makes you fall apart. Your cry of pleasure echoes off of the walls and you slump forward as your thighs shake violently with your orgasm.

He whimpers at how tight you squeeze him, hissing through his teeth and letting go of your clit so he can start rolling you over. Needing to cum himself. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He groans out. “So perfect.” He starts to jackhammer his hips, carelessly chasing his own high while you thrash underneath him.

You cling to him, wrapping your legs around him to push him deeper as he thrusts hard and deep into you. “Cum for me baby. Cum for me.” You plead, wanting to feel him fill you up. “Please Dieter. Cum for me.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” It’s all Dieter can manage as he careens towards another orgasm. Looking down at you as he starts to cum. Hissing out in pleasure as the vein in his temple throbs and his entire body locks up as he buries his cock deep and starts to fill you up.

“So good. So good.” You choke as his cock throbs inside of you, painting your walls with his cum and you send a silent thanks to your birth control. “Baby. Oh baby.” You sigh, rubbing his back as he works himself through his orgasm.

When he’s done, he collapses against you, snuggling into your chest and tucking his head into your neck. Unwilling to let this moment end right now. Soon enough you will put that wall back up and try to keep him at a distance. “Fuck.” He slurs, feeling slightly drunk on pleasure. “Best birthday ever.”

You stroke his back, kissing his neck. “Happy birthday baby.” You murmur, closing your eyes and trying to ignore the way your heart flutters. He may be your husband on paper but after this weekend, this can’t happen again. You can’t afford for it to happen again. You need to be serious and focus on his image and the press. Work through this until you can quietly divorce.

He can feel when you start to pull away, shuffling under him. Dieter groans and starts to move off of you, pulling out of you gently and flopping onto his back with a sigh. Staring up at the ceiling and wishing that he could be granted a birthday wish.

“I, uh, need to pee and then we should get some sleep. We have an early flight back to L.A.” You tell him, shuffling off of the bed to make sure you don’t get his cum over the mattress. While you pee, you rub your eyes, uncaring of your mascara as you try to figure out what to do. You don’t know what to say to him after you just had sex sober bar a few drinks. You weren’t drugged. When you come back into the bedroom, you slide under the covers where Dieter already is. “Night. Happy birthday.” You lean over to kiss his cheek before you turn away, forcing yourself to close your eyes.

“Thanks.” Dieter stares at your back for nearly an hour, watching as you pretend to sleep and then your body relaxes as you finally do give way to sleep. Sighing, he looks back up at the ceiling again and wonders when the hell he had done the dumb thing and fallen in love with you. Rolling his eyes at himself and huffing into the dark. Admitting to himself that he had been enamored with you, and this experience had just made it crystal clear he would never have what he wanted.

The next morning, you and Dieter barely speak to each other, focusing on getting to the private jet and you’re thankful his entourage seems to have disappeared. “I- I know you don’t exactly enjoy being married to me but need to make this look good in public. I can’t - I can’t live with you Dieter. I’m sorry. I just can’t do it.” You don’t tell him why, not wanting to admit that while you hated the party person he is, you have seen a different side to him, a side that you know is the true Dieter. Not the façade he puts on, what he thinks people want from him. His true self is sweet and kind and deep. He’s smart and you wish he would let others see that side of him, not just the party animal.

Dieter’s brow furrows, a hurt expression in his face and he shakes his head. “I don’t want-“ he takes a breath and decides to be honest. “I don’t want to get divorced. I want this to- try it.” He moves from the seat that he was in to drop down onto his knees in front of your own plush leather seat. “Give me six months. Six months really being Mrs. Bravo. If you aren’t happy I’ll give you the divorce. But I- I want this.” He confesses. “I was happy when we got married. I’ve been happy with you.”

You swallow harshly, unable to believe he wants you to be actually married to him. “It’s been two days, Dieter.” You shake your head, knowing you’ll be a 5 minute wonder with him. 

“Please baby. Give me a chance.” He pleads, those pretty brown eyes going glossy and part of you wonders if this is all an act. Even if it isn’t an act, he will get bored of you and if you say no, he will badger you until you say yes. 

You nod, “fine. Six months.” You agree, knowing that he will be begging for a divorce within a couple of weeks when someone else catches his attention.

He lights up, grinning from ear to ear as he pushes up to kiss you. Cupping your cheeks and moaning happily against your lips. “Six months.” He promises. “It’ll be the best six months of your life.” Smirking, he waggles his brows playfully. “And the most orgasms.” He chuckles.

You snort, knowing that he is being true when he says that. He has made you cum more times than any ex lover during an entire relationship and he’s done it in two days. When the plane lands, the paps are swarming near the gate to the private airfield but thankfully, the car is waiting on the tarmac. The cameras flash and people shout as the driver carefully navigates the crowd as he exits the airfield. “God, I hope we are old news soon. Perhaps JLo and Ben will break up soon.” You chuckle, “or maybe Chris Evans gets married and they can focus on him.” You grab your phone, knowing you still need to do your job and you wince at the amount of emails. “You have a lot of interview requests.”

He smirks and nods towards the cameras, giving them a wave before he tucks you close into his side. The luggage is already being transferred and all the two of you need to do is to get to the car. “As long as you are there, book them all.” He shrugs carelessly and reaches over to pluck your phone out of your hand. 

“Dieter!” You huff, reaching for it, but he pulls it out of your reach. “I need that!” You stubbornly insist. He shakes his head and grins at you. 

“No, my wife needs to kiss me in front of the cameras.” He taunts, holding the phone up as hostage. “Gimme a kiss and you can have it back.”

You want to slap him but instead you kiss him, cupping his cheeks and sliding your tongue into his mouth as you kiss your husband. Hoping he gives you his phone back and satisfies the vultures. You hear shouting and you press yourself up against Dieter whose arms are now wrapped around you.

Dieter grins against your lips when you pull back, already half hard and winks at you before he pulls away, handing you the phone back. “That wasn’t so hard, was it, snookums?”

You poke his chest with your phone, "never call me that again if you want your balls, Bravo." You warn playfully and he grins. 

"Whatever you say Mrs. Bravo." His words make you pause and you look down at the ring on your finger, knowing you are going to have a hard time taking it off. It seems too easy, too comfortable with Dieter. Not even 72 hours ago, you hated the obnoxious, reckless movie star and now you, God you can't even fully admit it to yourself, may even love the sweet, smart man standing in front of you. 

"We, uh, need to go." You tell him when the cases are put in the back of the car.

Opening the car door with an exaggerated flourish, he blows as he waits for you to get in before him. Totally hamming it up for the cameras and generally being in a fantastic mood as he climbs in beside you. “You’re going to love the house.” He babbles. “Have to get rid of a few things, the toys that were used with others and whatnot, but it’s perfect.” He grins as he looks over at you. “Unless you want to see the toy collection first?” He asks with raised brows. “Pick out some that you want to keep? They’ve all been sanitized.”

You raise your eyebrows, "uh, how sanitized? You know...I think we can buy some new ones. Maybe pick them out together. That would be a good couples day for the paps. Bravo and wife seen shopping for sex toys." You tease, nudging his arm. "I need to move some things over, the main things I need for everyday, and I will need to get my passport and birth certificate to change my bank account for the time being. I won't legally change my name, just my status. Less complicated."

“Okay.” He pouts, but he won’t argue with you about that. He knows that this is a trial run and you could still decide to divorce him. “I need to order you a card anyway.” He pulls out his own phone to tap out a text message to his manager to get that done for him. “I’m assuming you’re keeping your place?”

You nod, “it’s an incredible rental. Great location. I have another six months left on the rent so I don’t want to let it go. I need somewhere to live. As for the card, I know we joke but I’m not a gold digger. I’ll use it for things for the house or for you but I won’t take advantage.”

He frowns, both at the idea of you going back and the comment about being a gold digger. “Sublet the place and you use the card for whatever you want.” He insists. “I don’t even look at the statements, they just get paid.”

You huff, knowing you can never win. You nod, knowing you won’t use the card unless you need to. You look out of the window and watch L.A pass by as you make your way to his home…your home for the next six months…or less. When you arrive at his home, you are impressed and automatically in love with it. “Your home is beautiful.” You haven’t been to his home before, always conducting meetings by zoom.

The thing that is surprising about where Dieter lives is that Sherman Oaks is a residential neighborhood. It’s not the party scene and he was careful not to let things get too crazy. But often his partying is done in hotels so the neighbors adore him. “We have a pool.” He announces, leering at you. “So you can lay by the pool naked and work on my publicity.” Waggling his brows, he imagines eating you out while you are on a phone call or typing up an email.

You imagine it for a moment, just enjoying your life in your new home until you remember it isn’t your new home, it’s your temporary home. “We will see, huh?” You offer him a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes and you know this entire experience can go two ways: 1) you fall for Dieter hook line and sinker, or 2) you hate him, truly hate him. With a sigh as the car comes to a stop, you thank the driver who opens the door for you and you adjust your purse on your shoulder as you admire the house.

He fidgets beside you, wondering what you think of the house. “I- you can change whatever you want.” He offers quickly. “We can hire a contractor or decorator or whatever.” He knows that most of the house is already decorated, but maybe it’s not to your taste. He gives a shrug. “I’m not sentimental about anything there.”

You shake your head, “it’s beautiful, Diet. Besides, it’s your home and I wouldn’t change anything since I’m going to be here for the next six months.” You say to yourself as much as you say it to him. With a sigh and no response, he guides you into the home, telling you to security codes as he unlocks everything, and he knows you will want to stay in a guest room. He picks the one closest to his bedroom and you admire how clean and pretty everything is. “This room is bigger than my entire apartment.” You joke, setting your purse down.

“I liked the space in this house.” He comments as he hovers in the doorway. The driver is depositing the bags in the entryway and he sighs. “Well, I guess I’ll let you get settled.” He offers, feeling oddly depressed now that you’re here and you don’t seem very enthusiastic about being here.

****

It’s been a few days that you’ve lived with Dieter. He had arranged for movers to collect your things from your apartment and you managed to sublet it for six months. It’s been strange, living with Dieter but not actually living with him. A lot of your work is done remotely so you’ve been hanging around the house, working on the PR disaster of your own making, plus dealing with the interview requests that come in hourly. 

Since you’re so stressed, you decide to take up Dieter’s idea of sitting out by the pool. He is in his art studio, manically painting something when you last looked in on him, and you strip off, wanting to feel the hot sun on your entire body. You hum in delight when you lay down on the lounger, spreading out to enjoy the heat and just relax.

Dieter is in his own private hell. You are here but he feels like he can’t touch you. There’s a wall between the two of you and despite the fact that he had promised you orgasms, you haven’t seemed open to sex. He’s snorted plenty of coke, groaning as his mind mellows out and feels his body relax into a blissful state. Looking out the large double doors to see that you are spread out bedside the pool, naked. Groaning, he grabs a bottle of wine and a glass abs ventures outside.

You hear him approach, his feet slapping on the concrete and you open one eye to look up at your husband. “Hello hubby.” You tease, “brought me some wine?” He nods and pours you a glass, handing it to you. “Thank you.” You sip it and moan in appreciation. “Are you going to get naked and sit in the sun too or are you gonna stand there all day blocking it?” You joke.

It’s an invitation, and Dieter isn’t turning it down. Reaching for the hem of his shirt to drag over his head before he pushes the baggy, paint stained sweats down. His cock isn’t hard, but it’s starting to get that way, seeing your tits on display. “I guess I’m joining you.”

The lounger is big enough for you both and you shuffle over to allow him to lay down. You sip your wine and hand the glass to him so he can take a sip. “How’s your painting coming along?” You ask, admiring him in the sun. God, he’s too sexy for your own good.

“It’s done.” He groans at the taste of the white that he had chosen. “It’s pretty good, I think, but you can see it if you want.” He hands the glass back over to you and nods towards your phone. “Getting my image back in pristine order?” He asks sarcastically, knowing he’s never had a great public image. He’s too much of a wild card.

You chuckle, "that's an impossible task. Those coke snorting photos are still on the internet." You tease, knowing he was younger then. "I am working on it though. Bit hard to paint you as a happily married man when you've been such a whore." You sip the wine, setting the glass down and shifting closer to him. You reach out to trace the tattoo on his chest, unable to stop yourself from touching him when he's so close.

“It’s not like people change.” He huffs, skin tingling when you touch him. “When you're single, who cares who you do?” He smirks over at you. “Not like you didn’t sleep with people, you just didn’t have everyone taking pictures of every one of them and keeping tabs like it was a lottery list of who I was going to fuck next.”

His words hit you and you realize how intense it has been for him to have his entire life under a microscope, constantly photographed. "I'm sorry you've had to deal with that. I have only dealt with it for a week and it has been intense. I can understand why you sought solace in drugs and sex." You look at him as you caress his chest, down to his tummy.

“I’m sorry.” Dieter murmurs softly, feeling bad that you’ve been put through this. “It’s one for the reasons that no one lasts.” He admits quietly. “They either can’t handle the pressure or all they wanted was the press.” He doesn’t mention that he was a shit partner. He was or maybe is (?) selfish. After all, you’re here when you don’t want to be.

You shake your head, looking at him, "you shouldn't be sorry. You are a successful actor. An Oscar winner. You have achieved greatness and you should be with a partner who appreciates that and understands that your life is under the public eye. That you are beloved by the masses. You need someone who can ground you and remind you of the simple things in life like cooking dinner or going for a walk on the beach. You are a good man Dieter, selfish sometimes, but you care too much and I think that's why you haven't found the right person for you."

He bites his lip to keep him from blurting out that he had, but she just hates him. At least doesn’t like him enough to stay married to him. Instead he plasters a shit eating grin. “I always like being ordered around.” He growls suggestively, meaning in the bedroom.

"Yeah?" You tease, sliding your hand lower until you are caressing his thigh, his half hard cock near your touch but you haven't touched him there since Vegas. "You want me to tell you what to do?" You murmur, shifting closer so you can kiss his neck, licking up to the tattoo he has behind his ear.

“Shiiiiiit.” He hisses softly, cock twitching. You touching him is like a drug if it’s own. Making his cock start to throb and grow as he hardens. “Yes.” He huffs out the whine, turning his head to beg him with his eyes. “Order me around.”

You grip his chin, keeping your eyes on him, and you lean closer. “I want you to let me ride your face. I want you to make me cum on your tongue.” You order, knowing he’s hard but you want him to have to wait. This moment is about you. You want to be in charge.

Whimpering, Dieter nods eagerly and pulls his chin out of your grip so that he can slide down the longer and lay flat. “Take a seat.” He groans, licking his lips in anticipation.

You shift, straddling his face, and you exhale shakily as you look down into those beautiful brown eyes, hungry as they flick between your face and your cunt. You lower your pussy to his face and he immediately grabs your hips, practically suffocating himself with your cunt as his tongue slides through your folds. "Fuck!" You yelp, moaning his name as you cling to the top of the lounger for balance.

He groans happily, tasting you and falling in love with the musky, tangy taste. His fingers dig into your hips and he drags you closer. He wants to suffocate himself in you, he would die a happy man right here with your weight on his tongue. Flicking his it against your clit, he groans into your folds when your thighs tighten around his head.

"Oh God baby. Feels so good." You pant, rocking your hips on his face, and you cry out when he sucks your clit between his lips. "Oh God yes." You cry, rocking your hips and using the lounger as leverage to ride his face.

He chuckles, loving that you are letting go. That woman that he had experienced in Vegas is here again, rocking her cunt on your face. Dieter slaps your ass and loves the way you squeal his name again, lurching forward and he slides his tongue deep into your walls, pressing his nose against your clit.

“Oh fuck.” You buck wildly, grinding down onto his mouth as his tongue probes deep, curling and his nose rubs your clit just right. “Shit baby. You’re gonna make me cum. Always - always know just what to do. You’re gonna make me cum and then - then I want you to fuck me. Want you to - to make me scream your name so loud, everyone in this goddamn neighborhood knows you are fuck- fucking me- oh fuck!” You squeal, thighs shaking as he hits just right, sending you over the edge.

You drench him, making him groan and rock you on his face more. Drinking down your juices as they pour into his mouth with a muffled moan of your name as you slowly grind down onto him. Happily coated in your cum and cock throbbing. 

You shake above him, riding your orgasm and you move quickly despite the lethargy the orgasm grants you to shift back and straddle his thighs, gripping his cock to sink down on his hard cock while your walls still flutter from your orgasm.

“Shit!” Dieter cries out your name, shocked by the sudden way you engulf his cock in your pussy. “Oh fuck.” He looks up at you, pussy drunk and still wearing your juices as you start to move. “Oh fuck me baby.” He groans, grabbing and squeezing your tits while you bounce on him.

You want control and you take it, grabbing his wrists and pushing them back to rest against the lounger, stopping him touching you. "You don't get to touch me unless I tell you too." You order, starting to move your hips, grinding down onto his cock. You lean forward, biting down on his chin. "Your cock is mine, I decide when you cum. You understand?"

Wailing his agreement, Dieter nods frantically. “Yours, all yours baby. Oh fuck, it’s all yours.” He babbles. “Have- haven’t jerked off since we - we got back.” He confesses, blushing hotly at the fact.

The fact he hasn't touched himself makes you wild. You start to fuck him, rolling and rocking your hips frantically like you can't get enough of him. "Oh fuck. That - this cock really is mine. Fuck Dieter. It's so good. No one has ever made me feel like this. Love it. Love it." You ramble, sweat beading on your brow as you ride him like a damn bronco.

His fingers wrap around the lounger slats desperate to obey your orders and not touch you. God, he wants to. Your tits are bouncing and he wants to suck on them. He wants to slap your ass and beg you to go faster, to use him to make yourself cum again. “Love- l-love it.” He agrees breathlessly.

Your nails dig into his wrists as you desperately seek your orgasm. “Oh fuck. I’m gonna cum.” You lean forward a little more so the coarse hair at the base of his cock rubs your clit and it sends you over the edge. Coming to an abrupt stop above him as your thighs shake, a wail escaping your lips as you cum, soaking his cock.

Keening at the hot rush of liquid covering him, he bucks up into you. Knowing that he is on the edge but your words linger in the back of his mind. “Can- can I cum?” He begs. “Please, oh fuck, please let me cum.”

You ride your orgasm, catching your breath as you look down to see the desperate look in his eyes. “Not. Yet.” You say through gritted teeth, starting to rock on him again. “I want to cum once more. Do not cum.” You order, wanting him desperate and whining and pleading.

Whimpering, Dieter clenches his eyes shut, knowing that he can’t look at you. If he watches you cum again, he won’t be able to hold back. “Fuck Bravo, think about stocks. Think about your bullshit dealer.” He hisses quietly, trying to keep from cumming before you let him as he shuffles his legs under you and tries not to cum. 

You giggle at his struggle until you moan when you find the right spot inside of you. “Oh fuck Dieter. Feel so good. So good.” You moan, cupping his cheeks after letting go of his wrists. “Keep your hands where they are. You can’t touch.” You remind him, biting down on his bottom lip to stop his ramblings. You are so close to another orgasm, your thighs burning while you grind down onto him.

“Fuck.” He hisses, pouting at you. “You’re so- so, fuck.” His back bows slightly when you clench down around him and he cries out in frustration. “Fuck baby, I-I-I need to cum!”

"No!" You gasp, on the precipice of your own orgasm and you want to deny him. He gets whatever he wants and you have a chance to control this, make him beg. You cup his cheeks before you slap him, making his cock throb inside of you, so close to busting his nut. "Beg. Fucking beg me." You demand, breathless with how close you are.

“Let me cum, please, please, please let me cum.” Dieter whines, his eyes popping open and pleading with you desperately. “Please baby, please I want- I need- oh fuck.” His body goes taunt and his hand grips the slat of the lounger so hard he breaks it, trying to keep himself from cumming.

His pleas send you over the edge and you whine his name as you cum, clamping down on his cock and soaking him again. "Cum for me. Cum for me." You order with a squeal, "fucking cum."

Shouting your name, Dieter follows your order immediately. Whining and whimpering while he experiences the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, not even cognizant of what is coming out of his mouth. “Fuck, I love you, I love you, I love you.”

You freeze on top of him, your entire body going cold as you look down at him. “What did you say?” You whisper. You lean back to look at him, his cock still twitching inside of you and he is blissed out, eyes rolling into his head. “What did you say?” You ask louder, heart pounding in your chest.

Sighing and relaxing, Dieter reaches down and caresses your sides. “Fuck baby.” He pants softly, eyes still closed with a smile on his face. “God I love you.” He slurs and sighs again. “That - was, Jesus, I must have cum a fucking gallon’s worth.”

You slap his chest, shifting to get off of his cock. "Oh my God. What have you done?" You choke, grabbing your towel to wrap it around yourself as you walk into the house, tears stinging in your eyes as you absorb his words, most likely said in the heat of the moment.

Dieter sits up, dumbfounded and staring after you. “What did I do?” He demands loudly, calling after you, but you are already gone. He flops back onto the lounger and huffs, confused and hurt that you hate him so much that you play hot and cold with him. It’s cruel.

After his lust fueled confession, you stay away from Dieter, and avoid him whenever you can. Going to coffee shops to work or going out for lunch by yourself. It's not good for his PR but you manage to go to less popular areas to avoid the paps and anyone taking photos of "Mrs. Bravo" alone. You feel guilty, essentially abandoning your husband but you imagine he has some new pussy or ass to fuck that has distracted him. You usually go to your room, avoiding him, and feeling guilty and angry at your own silly emotions.

Since you left him alone, he’s drank, a lot. Realizing that you don’t love him and it’s almost enough to sober him. Ironic, he fucked around and did whatever he wanted for so long, but now he’s wanting the one person he can’t have. His head is pounding and he wants something to eat that didn’t come from a bag, so he shuffles downstairs to see if there is anything in the fridge. Hating how he feels even more alone than he did before his birthday.

You are bringing in groceries when you find Dieter rifling through the pantry. "You hungry?" You ask, speaking to him for the first time in God knows how long. You can see the dark circles under his eyes and the stains on his clothes. He hasn't been taking care of himself. "I can cook us something. Sit down." You order, setting the grocery bags on the counter.

“‘M fine.” Dieter mumbles, ready to slink off to another part of the house again. To wallow in the misery that he’s created. He’s good at that. “Just gonna order something.”

"Sit down." You tut, knowing he hasn't eaten properly. He never does unless you arrange it. He gets too in his head, too in his art and you know he's been studying that new script. "Sit down and let me make you something." You reach into the fridge to get him a beer and set it down on the counter before you put the groceries away, figuring out a quick pasta meal to cook.

Grunting, he twists the top off the bottle and gulps down half of it before setting it back on the counter. Wiping his mouth on the back of his hand he watches you move through the kitchen as if you own it. “What did I do?” He asks quietly, staring at the counter so he doesn’t have to look at you. He can tell the world to fuck off, but he’s terrified of you hating him.

You set the tomato sauce down and turn back towards him. “You- we agreed to do this for six months and then you go - you told me you loved me. I don’t know if that was in the moment but Dieter - I can’t - you don’t love me. You just - I’m the closest person to you right now so you think you do but you don’t love me.” You turn from him so he doesn’t see the pain in your eyes.

Dieter snorts and huffs out a laugh. “Wow. So you know me that well huh?” He spits, irritated that you keep looking down on him. Treating him like he’s the gum on the bottom of your shoe. “You told me you’d give me an honest chance for six months.” He reminds you. “Nice to know you're counting down the days.” The chair he had sat in scrapes back as he stands. “Wonder why I’m an asshole? I admit how I feel and I get ghosted by my wife. But you don’t really want to be my wife. You’re just biding time.” He tosses the rest of the beer in the trash. “I lost my appetite.” He tells you, turning to walk out of the kitchen, desperate to snort something to make him not give a shit.

You stare as he rushes out of the kitchen, tears stinging in your eyes and you turn to flick off the stove. You clench your jaw, suddenly angry at his dismissal. He always gets the last word. You set the spatula down and follow him, banging your hand on his bedroom door after he slammed it. “You’re such a coward. You told me when you had just cum. What was I supposed to think? That you actually meant it? It’s torture living here. Knowing that you don’t really love me, you’re just - you need attention whereas I am actually in fucking love with your selfish ass and yet I can’t escape because you let us get married while I was high. I just - I hate you. I love you! I love you too, you fucking prick. Is that what you want to hear? Because I do. I can’t stop thinking about you and I thought that if I avoided you I’d save us both the heartache when you move on to the next best thing and instead you decide to mop around and then you - God, I don’t know what to do. You’ve complicated this by making me fall for you.” You slump against the wall opposite the double doors to his bedroom suite.

Snatching the door open, Dieter growls, ready for a fight. “Then fucking leave!” He hiss, grabbing you by the arms and dragging you upright. His eyes are dark and passionate. “Leave if you’re so goddamn miserable, because I’m fucking miserable. I just want to-“ he doesn’t say another word, just crushes his lips to yours desperately. Breaking down and confessing his worst fear. “Don’t leave me.” He begs between sloppy kisses, hands pulling you closer. “Don’t. Fucking. Leave.”

You react immediately to his words, reaching for him to tangle your fingers in his hair and you press your lips to his again. “I don’t want to leave.” You admit against his mouth, sighing his name as you slide your tongue between his lips, finally feeling like you’re home.

He pulls you back and starts to steer you towards his bedroom. He needs to touch you, to taste you. Pushing you through the doors as he continues to keep kissing you. Pawing at your dress in a desperate attempt to get it off of you while he keeps his mouth locked to yours.

“Wait. Wait baby.” You push on his chest, groaning when his lips attach to your neck. “Baby. I - I am on my period.” You warn him, not wanting him to be surprised or grossed out when he fucks you. He might decide not to, if it’s not his thing.

Scoffing, he bites down on your pulse and pulls away. “So? It’s natural.” He tells you casually. “Doesn’t mean I’m not going to lick your pussy until you cum for me.”

You shiver at his words, realizing once again how different he is compared to your exes. That’s why you love him. “Oh God. You are insatiable.” You joke, letting him guide you back towards his massive bed. You haven’t been in here before.

He snickers and nips at your collar bone before he pushes you back onto the plush bed. Throwing off his shirt, he keeps the sweats on, knowing he will want to rush if he strips off too fast. “Yep.” He watches as you pull off your dress and he reaches for your panties, far more practical for your time of the month than sexy. “Period panties turn me on.” He jokes, winking at you. “Played a vampire once.”

You let him drag your panties down and he pushes your legs open, exposing your folds, and you fluster when Dieter finds the string of your tampon. “I- you can leave it in. You don’t - I know it’s not - God I have never done this before.” You fluster, covering your face, “can you leave it in?”

He thinks it’s adorable that you are so worked up over a tampon being inside you. “You’re so fucking cute.” He coos, wiggling his hips and settling between your spread thighs. “Don’t worry baby, it just tastes a little coppery.” He chuckles and peels your lips apart with his thumb. “Not even messy, besides-“ you pull your hands down from your face and look at him. “I eat my steaks rare.” He jokes before he flattens his tongue against your clit.

Your groan is a combination of embarrassment at his words and pleasure of his tongue flicking over your clit. With a whine, you buck your hips into his face and reach down to tangle your fingers in his hair. “Fuck.” You sigh in bliss, having missed this…missed him. “Always so good. You’re so good at that.” You moan when he sucks on your clit.

He wants to make this good for you. Needing you to feel loved and taken care of. Plus he doesn’t mind the way you taste at all. He hums against your flesh when you tug on his hair and grind shamelessly down on his face.

“God, that feels so good, baby. So good. I love it. I- oh shit.” Your head rolls into the pillow, so sensitive from your period, and it doesn’t take long to work you up to your orgasm. His name escapes his lips as you cum when he sucks on your clit.

He groans along with you while you ride out your bliss, watching you carefully and pulling away to kiss your inner thighs while your chest heaves. “Can I fuck you, baby?” He asks softly between kisses. He’s had enough lovers to know that every woman is different during their period. He’s a selfish asshole, but he’s not that big of a dick to expect or demand sex.

“I don’t - I’m sorry. I don’t really like sex during my period. It hurts too much. Can I- I want to jerk you off. Want to watch you cum.” You offer, reaching down to squeeze his cock through his thin sweats.

Dieter kisses your stomach and shuffles up to lay down beside you. “You don’t have to, sweetheart. I don’t expect it.” He promises. “I’m not going to be upset if you just want to lay here and rest.”

“I want to make you cum. Please.” You lean forward to kiss his neck, reaching for his sweats and when he doesn’t push your hand away, you reach in to wrap your fingers around his cock, pulling him free of his sweats. “Such a gorgeous cock and it’s all mine.” You murmur, kissing his jaw as you start to pump him in your hand.

Groaning, Dieter turns his head and chases your lips. “All yours.” He pants into your mouth, groaning again when you squeeze the head. “Fuck, all yours.” He’s needy, lifting his hips into your grip but he doesn’t care. Your touch feels so much better than his own and he wants to fall apart to it.

You love how eager he is for you, and you twist your wrist as you pump him, swiping your thumb over the head of his cock, and you slide your tongue into his mouth when he whines your name. “I love you, baby.” You murmur against his lips, pumping him a little faster before you squeeze the head again, swiping your thumb over it to gather more pre-cum.

Shuddering under your confession, he groans. “Fuck, gonna cum baby.” He warns you, cock throbbing in your hand and one twist of your wrist, he’s cumming. Painting his chest with hot ropes of his sticky seed while you milk him of every drop while he whines. “Love you.”

You work him through it, loving the wrecked look on his face as he enjoys his  orgasm. You kiss all over his face when he relaxes, “so beautiful.” You whisper before bringing your hand up to your mouth to lick his cum from your digits.

“I do love you.” Dieter promises softly. “It’s - I know you think that it’s just some kind of amusement or passing fancy. But I do.” He reaches over and cups your cheek. “I don’t regret marrying you in Vegas for a second.”

You smile, shifting to snuggle into his side, uncaring of his drying cum. “Me neither. I thought I did at first but I look back on it and it was just…comfortable. Like it was meant to be. I know we have a lot to discuss for our future and I know it’s gonna have bumps in the road but I don’t want to pretend to be Mrs. Bravo anymore, I want to be Mrs. Bravo. I want to be yours, your wife. I love you Dieter and I’m so sorry I’ve been such a bitch. It’s just - it’s been a lot to work through and I have needed time to figure out how I feel. I know what I feel and I know what I want…a life with you.”

Dieter beams happily, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours. “Good.” He chuckles against your lips. “Because I want you to be Mrs. Bravo. For real. Us, together.” He waggles his brows. “Will you move into the bedroom with me?” He asks. “Let me snuggle you after sex at least once?”

You smile, nodding at him. “Yes. I’d like that baby. I’d like that a lot.” You sigh, breathing him in. 

“And I want babies.” He adds, making you choke. 

“One step at a time, my love. We have a lot to figure out but we will do it all together.” You promise and he smiles, nudging his nose against yours. 

“Together. I like the sound of that, Mrs. Bravo.” 

You giggle, giddy with happiness that he loves you. “Me too, Mr. Bravo.”

[proxablemente]

the way the people who hate what the writers have done to alicent are being called butthurt by other fans is so funny. let's not even talk about what they've done to rhaenyra, i mean the whole point of the show has been trashed this way.

this "feminist" show has repetedly tried to make its female characters the most simpathetic they could, at the cost of butchering these characters and trash their motives, because a complex angry woman CANNOT be liked. oh and while alicent gets an "humbling" arc, blood-thirsty abusive men are getting a REDEMPTION arc! and are never expected to apologize for their crimes (like beheading a child, killing innocents, gr00ming), while alicent has to be humiliated for...being bitter and resentful??

with rhaenyra they're taking the dragon jesus lane, so i guess she might get brutal?? but who knows, they've made her so sensible all season because god forbid she actually wants war😝. women are peaceful! women cannot do war! alicent is no good for regent 'cause WOMAN 'cause EMOTIONAL. rhaenyra is always undermined at the council 'cause WOMAN 'cause REASONABLE.

the only people i'm seeing enjoying this sh1t leaked finale are rhaenicents and indifferents.

i want you to understand that just because rhaenyra and alicent are in the same room it does not mean the writing is good, making alicent oh so stupid! silly alicent keeps humiliating herself, she doesn't know better! is a disgusting character assassination. alicent has become NOTHING: they absolutley could have given her a deeper realization arc, but that was definitively not supposed to happen now nor the AWFUL way they wrote it. they made alicent AN IDIOT. she just knows how to cause herself humiliation, and if you're okay with this as long as rhaenicent happens you clearly don't give a damn about what those sh1t ass writers are doing to my girl.

the writing is BAD. oh SO BAD. it's BAD BAD BAD. please see it!! it's fanfiction level!

and rhaenicent has literally been butchered as well, since the very start of the season! i myself enjoyed rhaenicent prior to season 2, but it just sucks now. they've made alicent a little lost puppy that seeks rhaenyra's approval. last season rhaenicent for them was a memory of better times, when alicent was naive and free of the feeling of fear and remorse that haunts her, and rhaenyra was free of responsabilities and consequences, of the weight of the crown that she will one day wear: it was a pure relationship where they could just be happy with eachother, when none of their lives had been ruined. thinking about it made them nostalgic in s1's later episodes.

now rhaenyra is as stiff as a board with alicent and talks to her coldly, while alicent is mostly listening to her with puppy eyes?? this is what you like???

i am mainly an alicole (and seen the spoilers it looks like it has been butchered too so... bye bye to them too i guess) but even if criston and alicent didn't happen it wouldn't have changed much for me. i have always been interested in ALICENT THE CHARACTER first of all, not her relationship with her children or criston or rhaenyra. what pissed me off about the finale is not what she did to her children, but the fact that it was A STUPID DECISION. THE WRITING AND THE WRITING CHOICES SUCK. THEY SUCK ADMIT IT STOP DEFENDING EVERYTHING THEY CHOOSE TO DO. and it was probably made to be a stupid decision just to make alicent look even more stupid so😂whatever. i'm saying this because a lot of people on twitter are now saying "now they see you alicels as you are, you only care about her because of her relationship with her children :D" MY BROTHER IN CHRIST I DON'T I DON'T GIVE A DAMN ABOUT THEM. plus these are the same people that threw tantrums and unstanned her when the alicole scenes leaked 🙃. THEY are true alicels.

people need to stop consuming material for the sole sake of shipping. if you're in it for that, at least have the decency to care about both the components of the ship separately PLEASE.

man i just hate this season, i needed to get this off my chest.

(i also tried really badly to like everything they've done up until now, so if i'm just exploding now there is a reason)

[r3starttt]

Mizpah

a/n: last part of Don’t delete the kisses (most likely) This series was all I’ve ever wanted to make. I’m so proud of myself 🙁🤞

Prt 1 | Prt 2 | Prt 3

Warnings: little bit of angst ig? fluff. mentions of homophobia. Sad-soft sex!!! don’t need details just read it (oral r! receiving. fingering e! receiving. scissoring)

“With eyes shut its you I’m thinking of. Eye to eye, thigh to thigh. I let go”

“I’d like to take you out

And afterwards make out

Instead, I’m typing you a message

Delete the kisses at the end

When I see you the whole world reduces

To just a room

Me and you were meant to be

In love

I see the sighs of a lifetime, you ‘til I die”

It had been a week since you last saw Ellie. A week of you crying nonstop every single day, all day. A week of trying to ignore her messages and calls and going out just to not see her or know anything about her.

Not because you hate her, not because the pain she made you feel that day. But because all she confessed.

You feared you could have a bad impact for her and her life and maybe that’s why you two just can’t be together.

And you feared that it you were right then something bad could happen to her if you tried to force this whole situation.

Because you’ve never loved somebody this much and she’s never felt this loved. And you two were just made for each other in all possible ways but maybe it was all a cruel trick from the universe. Maybe it was some sort of karma you had to pay. Some sort of temptation god was giving you.

And as much as you wanted to just give in, you didn’t want Ellie to pay for your decisions anymore. Not her or her family.

You were just as confused and mad as she was. And it took you so long to figure out what to do and how to do it.

Should you move out again and pretend nothing happened? Should you stay and just avoid her? Were you even something oficial? Could you ask her to brake up if that was the case?

-

-

The moment you opened the door, before you could even react or speak or even blink. Her arm’s extended around you, so tightly and desperately.

As you could you extended your arms to close the door.

“I’m so sorry, so so sorry. Please forgive me” her teary voice felt like bullets on your skin. It was so painful to see her like this, to know that she’s like this because of you.

“Ellie…. It’s okay, we’re good” your hands moved gently over her back, making small circles with both your thumbs and palms.

“I don’t want to lose you again, please don’t leave me” but what if leaving her was what’s best for both?

“We can’t stay together El, you know that” were you too harsh?

She practically pushed you away. Her eyes were all red and puffy, she’d been crying probably as much as you.

“What do you mean?” the way her tone changed so suddenly made you regret it all, but you couldn’t do that just now “There’s always something separating us, keeping us apart. Maybe we’re not supposed to be together”

She denied your words with her head, stepping closer to you. “We’re just supposed to fight harder”

“Ellie, if I stay with you then your family’s gonna-“

“I already chose you over them, you can’t do this”

She was right

“Is it because of what I say? I was being stupid I know, I didn’t understand but now I do and I’m so sorry I called you all those things. I care for you but I was so mad at being left alone I didn’t realize it would’ve been selfish If I made you stay. I didn’t realize about how much you’ve done for me.” the grip of her hands shaky hands entangled with yours got tighter. She looked so desperate, she was holding you desperately. “And I wanna make it up to you, I wanna stay with you and take care of you and accomplish everything we couldn’t before”

Everything you’ve been planning for a whole week was completely erased from you by her words. How could you even think of leaving her again? How could you choose anything else than to be with her?

Maybe that’s why you never end together, because your love for her is so strong that you get blinded by it and just run away. Because her love for you is so strong that she can’t let you go and when you do she can’t forgive herself.

Because your bond is so strong none of you know how to handle it.

You let go of her hands, moving yours to her face. Your thumbs moving against her red tainted cheeks, making small circles on each side of her face. Your eyes lost, wandering all over her face. Looking at her pretty watery eyes, her nose and cheeks covered in those freckles you adored so much, and her chapped lips, so tempting.

The urge was bigger than anything else, so your lips crashed on hers. Both felt so eager of each other, desperate to feel each other’s touch, the softness of your bodies together. You missed the way her body fitted so perfectly against yours. She missed the way her body was the perfect size for yours.

But as much as there was urge and a carnal desire that screamed desperately to be full-filled, you still needed to apologize, to let her know you would never leave. And she still needed the comfort, the reassurance she’s been waiting for her whole life.

So your lips pressed against her one las time.

“You did nothing wrong, none of us did” your breaths were mixing, brushing each others lips “I promise you…. I won’t leave again, I know none of us will”

Ellie felt so dizzy, so enamored. Your words were all the comforting she’d been craving for so long. It felt like a direct hug to her heart, like a cure to all worries she could ever have.

So tender. Just what you both needed.

Nothing else mattered anymore, but you and her and the love that could be felt as something tangible. So loud and warm and fuzzy in between the two of you.

Her fingers tugged at the hem of your shirt. Your lips were already dancing with hers, such a merciful hungry rhythm.

Your tongues slowly mixing in between the kiss. Both giving clumsy steps to your room, where she’s never been before but she’d dreamed of it.

Your hands moving all over her back, from her waist to her shoulders, then to her neck and stopping right were her hair ends. Desperate of feeling every inch of her body, of pulling her closer if that was even possible.

Hers, gently getting under your shirt, shyly touching your bare skin and sending shivers to your whole body at the sudden touch of her calloused cold fingers.

Small giggles and smiles appearing in between the kiss. You had your eyes closed but could imagine the dorky expression on her face.

And you both stopped the moment you crashed with your bed, making small laughs come from both of your sticky lips.

“What am I supposed to do now?” a giggle escaped from your mouth, looking straight to her eyes. They had a sparkle you’ve never seen before. And god, her smile just radiated so much love it made you unconsciously dumb, so in love. You whispered back “just let your body figure it out for you”

She obeyed, her hands finally moved to your upper body. Fingers wandering over the costure of your bra. Her lips were pressed on your skin, leaving wet kisses from the corner of your lips to your clavicle. Covering your neck and your jawline in them.

You hummed at her touch. Letting her explore and savor your body first. Your huffed moans reassuring her to take the lead.

“I love you” kiss “so much” kiss. It made you smile.

Her hands slowed moved to your clothes again, taking them off of you with the most precious look you could ever see on her face. And you did the same, removing each piece of clothing that was covering your bodies, leaving the both of you complete bare at the other sight.

The white curtains that adorned the windows of your room letting the radiant rays of sun enter just right, covering you both in such a delicious warm.

She embraced you tightly, guiding you to your bed and making you lay under her body. Her arms pressed in the mattress, right next to you. Her legs intertwined with yours, rubbing them against your skin.

You kissed her again, so gently and pure and making her moan at your touch. Your hands caressing her arms, waiting for her to move at her pleasing.

And she did. Her hands found their way to your thighs, spreading them and moving your legs around her.

She started to grind her clit with yours at a slow speed, trying to find the needy angle for both and the right rhythm. You can feel her nuzzling in your neck, hearing loud moans at every move she makes.

Ellie’s movements slowly started to speed up, making you whimper at the feeling of your sticky and wet cunts rubbing together. She was practically ramming against you at this point.

But right as a knot of pleasure started to form on your stomach she stopped.

She left sloppy kisses on your body as she went down your cunt. Hands gripping around your thighs and eyes roaming in between your body and your pretty face.

Lips licking and kissing your hardened nipples, leaving the wetness of her saliva stick on them. Biting and sucking on your skin, leaving almost unnoticeable bruises all the way to your stomach and around your breasts.

Hands caressing the sides of your legs until she was finally in between them, extending her arms to hold your hands. Her nose rubbing on your clit and her tongue deep in between your folds, moaning at the sweet taste of them and smiling at your pretty whimpers.

She flavored every bit of it. Making small circles around your puffy bud, licking every wet space in between your folds, teasing your arousal and finally rubbing her tongue deep inside you, thrusting her tongue in and out of you repeatedly.

Your room was now filled with loud vulgar and wet sounds, it made the two of you feel so fervent and carnal. So lost in the craving and focused on the pleasure.

Her tongue moved so brusque yet so delicately on your cunt. Making you crave for more of her and causing you to feel overwhelmed at the abruptly wave of pleasure that increased nonstop over your whole body, blinding your vision and thoughts.

"F-Fuck El…. I'm-" your words were interrupted by a strong feeling of ecstasy running through your body, your legs weakened and your stomach felt so tight, covered in a tickling sensation that felt just like a bliss. Her tongue cleaned every juice that came out of your core, so insatiable and still craving for more.

She crawled back to you, leaving a soft kiss on your temple. You smiled at the sight of her lips, covered in your flavor. And her forehead with a small coat of sweat appearing.

To her you looked so fucking gorgeous right now, with a few baby hairs stuck to your forehead, half-lidded eyes that still managed to have that doe look in them. Still trying to catch your breath.

Your hand moved to her cunt now, rubbing small circles on her clit and smiling at the delightful sight you had in front of you. Curved eyebrows, slightly scrunched nose and her mouth partly opened a shuffled moans escaped from them.

She was so wet, so soft. It felt delicious.

You sped up your movements, assaulting her cunt and hitting just the right spots. And god she sounded so pretty, her small whimpers covering your ears and the way her hands tugged tightly on your sheets, running her hands through your hair, so desperate and overwhelmed by pleasure.

The way she clenched around your fingers, the way she felt so wet, the way she tried to rub herself on you, to have more contact with your skin. The way she closed her eyes when your fingers went deeper, the way she bit her lips trying to hush her whimpers. Everything about her right now was so mouth-watering.

So you kissed her, burying your fingers on her core, making her moan at your lips. She tried to speak but your lips pressed in her and the way pleasure was taking all in her body didn’t allow her to. But you understood.

And just like that you thrusted your fingers for the last time, in and out a few more times after she’d came.

But your lips kept pressed on hers, until she had to move away to recover her breath, making you laugh.

She looked so pretty.

And so did you.

[tinytinyblogs]

Skz Soft Hours: Minho

He longs to be with you, even though he may not be the best at expressing it at first.

(Slightly mentioned misunderstanding between them)

Stray kids masterlist here

"Why are you so quiet?" He gives you a silent stare, making the air feel suffocating. Ever since you heard that you need to marry him, he has been silent, agreeing to everything, but saying nothing himself. "About what?" he asks finally. He used to hate you, at least as far as you know. He was always there, judging you and making your life difficult. And yet now he is agreeing to spend the rest of his life with you. "Don't be so silly," You says. "Of course it's about your parents wanting you to marry me." You and Minho are from different worlds. He comes from a rich family, while your parents work for them.

You have no power over them, and even though Minho's parents treat you well, it's still strange to hear that they want you and Minho to be together. Unlike you, Minho has the power to say no, but he chooses not to. "Nothing I can say about it," he says. You walk closer to him and take his phone away from him. You sit down next to him and make him look at you. "Explain yourself," you say. "You've always hated me, and now you're changing your mind and want to be with me forever? Or what?"

Minho savored every word you said, wondering if he had always been that bad around you. He might not be the best at choosing the right words to say, or at expressing his feelings, but he had never hated you, not even a little. "I never changed my mind," he said. "I was the one who told my parents that I want to marry you, and it was my decision alone." He had spent a lot of time with you in his huge house, and he had told his parents that he wanted to marry you, thinking they would laugh at him. But he had been deadly serious. He was surrounded by beautiful people, but his heart always came back to you.

Minho always wanted to be perfect, even as a child. He was confused about how to get your attention when you were so focused on improving yourself, until now, when you're working successfully at his parents' company. "They are only saying this to you because I am too nervous to ask you to marry me myself." The only time you ever looked at him was when you were annoyed by him. But you were also scared of being judged, especially by him. You wanted to be a better person, but you weren't sure why. You just felt like you weren't worthy of him, who had everything. The walls between you two were so thick and strong. "And I never hated you," he said.

It was the first time you had heard him say it out loud, and it felt like a new world was opening up to you. He was always busy with his work, but this moment felt like a gift. "Yes, I really want to spend my whole life with you. That's what I've been dreaming of ever since." Minho had everything he wanted except you. He craved you, dreamed of building a family with you, and prayed for you every day. He looked at you again and again, even though you rarely spoke. He knew that he had been judging and hating you, but he didn't mean it. He didn't have a dream before you. He never knew what he wanted until you came along. The only problem was that you two felt so far apart.

You hardly spoke, let alone in a good way. "I don't need you to force anything, but let's get to know each other after this." You felt like you were floating between dream and reality. You had always compared yourself to Minho and his life, and you envied the people who made him happy. But it seemed like your vision of him wasn't entirely accurate. Minho doesn't care about your social status or your family background. He cares about you because you're the only person who never judges him.

"I really need you, you never judge me when I'm at my lowest." Even though you two don't talk much, you both care about each other deeply. When you saw him crying once, you stayed silent and bought him his favorite food, something his parents might not even know he loves. And when you're feeling down, he'll wait for you from afar and walk with you, even though you know he's there. "I'm not a bad person, I promise you," he says. "And I will treat you so well, like you deserve. Can't you give me a chance?"

His huge room is a witness to your silly story, like a rainbow that appears after the rain, showing you a new side of Minho. "If you're sure about this, we can try" You said in a low voice almost whisper, you may be jumping to conclusions without seeing the full picture but you know that he is a good person. If you're willing to understand him a little more you can overcome any misunderstanding. Minho dreams of being happy with you, just like you imagine yourself around him. Sometimes, dreams come true.

He kissed you shyly after a long time, imagining what it would be like if you were his. He felt a burden on his heart lift as he finally said out loud how he felt. He could be so open with you, and he didn't have to act like a robot all the time. Life could be more colorful with you by his side, like a painter adding vibrant colors to an empty canvas. He was finally beginning to understand what kind of art he wanted to create in life, and it was all because of the love that had been hidden inside of him all along.

💬I apologize if this doesn't sound as soft as the title suggests. Let me know if you would like me to write a second part after getting married. I promise it will be even softer.

[highlordofkrypton]

Bad writing?

I don't usually participate in ACOTAR critical discussions, but I do wanna jump in on the discussion of bad writing. This was inspired by another post about Nesta & bad writing, but I didn't feel like my response was on topic enough to reply -- but here it is.

Authors have every right to go in a different direction with their character development, but the difference between good and bad writing is how do the characters change.

In my experience, and my personal enjoyment of reading:

A bad writer will simply start writing the character differently with no rhyme or reason.

A good writer will set the character up to experience situations, interactions or anything else that will set the character on a path of growth (whether that is good or bad). Usually, a large characterization shift will contribute to the plot/narrative.

A bad writer will contradict their own established canon. Mind you, they created their canon, these are their own rules. They're allowed to break them, but there should be some kind of reasoning for it.

A good writer will establish why their previous statements are no longer valid so that the reader can actively choose to move with or against the development they're proposing for the character.

A bad writer will tell you that you're wrong in your beliefs of this character.

A good writer will lead you towards different paths of thinking about the character, but ultimately, the reader should feel comfortable in making their own decisions about the character based on what was shown to them.

I'm all for the belief that there are no right or wrongs in writing, especially in fan fiction, but if you're writing for a wide audience (or for an audience that is paying for your work), there should be some kind of consideration for your readers.

Many readers want to know what's going on; they want to join your characters on their journey.

Many readers prefer not to be treated like all their beliefs were wrong without a foundation for changes. I hate using this word, but it makes people feel gaslighted and not in a cool, narrative, plot-twisty way.

Additionally, my biggest personal 'bar' for debating whether a writing is good or bad is if the writing shatters my immersion in the book. If I spend more time thinking to myself how this is wrong for the character without thinking that something is happening for the plot, then yeah, for me it's bad writing.

I do wonder, though, if the entire ACOTAR series is just because Feyre is an unreliable narrator. Since it's written in the first person, and we all know how our hearts and minds can play tricks on us, maybe it's just that.

I haven't read past ACOWAR, nor have I read any of SJM's other series.

Those who have read CC and TOG, thoughts?

[theambitiouswoman]

Hi Yili! Would you share with us some of the things that didn't align with you before you're healing but are natural for you now?

Hi angel baby <3

In no particular order:

Before I was insanely aggressive and triggered, now I am completely calm and passive.

Before I hated being vulnerable and expressing myself, saw it as a weakness. Now I see it as a strength and has been one of the most important qualities that has made my life so much easier.

Before I would not wear make up, dress up etc because I prioritized my career. Now I can not fathom not doing any of those things and realize how its a reflection of how I felt. I also realized that I am not my career.

Before I would not care about my looks because I did not want people to value me just because of my looks. I was actually very adamant about it because well, people have bad intentions and when you notice people wanting to date you because of who you are or what you look like, it does not feel great. Now I realize that I needed to do a better job at choosing people and learned to use that as leverage instead of being defined by it.

Before I would date men who were not.... masculine. Now I find those type of men insanely unattractive.

Before, I would over work myself. Now I am more clear minded to make better decisions without the stress.

Before I was insanely unforgiving. Now I am compassionate.

Before I could not even cry. I was so out of touch with my emotions. Now I am completely connected to them, and control them perfectly.

Before I was very angry. Now I am just a happy little bird.

Before I was very hurt, and learned to forgive myself.

Before I was very defensive, and now I realize I just didn't appreciate my own worth.

Before I wanted to be chosen, now I do the choosing.

Before, I would blame the people that hurt me and build an identity around it. Now I recognize the root of the role I played in those dynamics.

Before I valued certain things when it comes to relationship that are very different from what I value now. I understand how my results were a direct reflection of my actions, not my intentions.

Before I thought I was independent because of my financial situation, but i realized I was emotionally drowning and trying to grab on to anyone. Essentially not independent as an individual. I was a slave to the feelings I was not confronting and as a result having everything blow up in my face.

Before I would blame outside circumstances. Now I make a conscious decision to figure out what I need to do or could have done to get the results I want. Take accountability instead of hiding behind my hurt feelings.

Before, I had very close relationships with people who held me back. Now I realize that those people aligned with a version of myself I didn't want to be.

Before I struggled balancing my energies in terms of career and personal relationships, now i realize a lot of it had to do with my upbringing.

Before I wanted to do things certain ways, because I wanted to do things my way, cause that is what i felt was right. Now I realize those thoughts and actions were truly based on my own past trauma and triggers that wired my brain to naturally perceive certain steps as better based on that foundation.

Before I didn't realize how the men I dated were so much like my father, who I love and adore, but is not the type of man I want or aligns with the version of me that is happiest.

Before I was insanely independent. Now I find the value in depending on others and realize it had to do with me holding on to negative emotions from pat experiences.

Before I would blame myself for relationships not working, or if someone did anything wrong to me, and saw it as a reflection of myself. Now I see it as a reflection of where the person is.

Before I was very emotionally codependent, now I just love myself too much.

Before I would let people take advantage of me, now I have really serious boundaries.

Before I wanted to be loved and gave so much love to everyone for that reason, without realizing that was the actual reason. Now I realize you can be compassionate, and kind etc, but people need to earn certain things in your life.

Before I tried to save people, now I realize I can only be an example and hope to positively influence them.

Before I was more set in my ways, now I am a lot more open to others.

Before I did not want to prioritize myself because I simply didn't see the value. Now i realize it was what was missing to move me forward.

Before I didn't want to make things about me because I saw so many things wrong with it. But now I see it as I was hiding and finding excuses to not confront my own insecurities.

Before I put people first, because that is what I was taught in life and ended up abandoning myself. Now I recognize that and put myself first.

Before I would compete with men about work and money. I could only talk about that. Now I realize there is no competition I am already better lol so we have normal conversations about anything else. I don't prove or validate myself. As a result I get a ton of help and support from men and has also made my life so much easier.

Before, I watered myself down for people because I was taught that growing up. Now I realize that those were the wrong people.

Before I was taught to tolerate and now I realize that it was from never having anyone on my side as a child and was told to suck it up.

I realized that I had an issue expressing my emotions, not because of the bad things people did to me singularly but also because my feelings were invalidated.

Before I did not value education, now I strongly value knowledge.

Before there were tons of things I did not like in terms of styles, colors, taste, hobbies etc. Now I love those things.

Before I thought I had to do so many things for a person to love and value me. Now I realize I am worthy of all of those things without having to do anything. And now I seriously don't do anything lol and get treated like a princess baby at all times.

I can keep going lmao but I just want to point out that I have been working on myself for a while... years. And intensely focused on shadow work and journaling for about a year. Theres a lot more I can write but some of it is very personal so I would like to keep that to myself <3

[saber-monet]

“They’re talking shit” manifesting technique

Or

“Let them talk shit” Method

So this is the technique that I used, and still currently use as an over-thinker to manifest my desired reality and maintain my desired mental state.

So back in college, I was insecure. The type of insecure, where if I hung out with friends and then I left the room, only thing that would be racing through my mind would be the idea of them talking about me behind my back. Like Just talking the most shit and calling me out of my name. Granted these are the types of friends I had back then, I now know better.

So here was the pattern :

Every time I left the room, and I felt insecure about something I had just said or done, I would imagine them saying bad things about me or finding me weird of off putting. The things I would imagine them saying, would break my heart. So I put a stop to it.

And I recognized those people were not in the room with me and I was using my imagination to hurt myself .

I could have been imagining them saying anything because I have that power and I’m choosing to see them saying most terrible things about me. So, I made the decision to imagine them still talking shit, but this time it was about all the good things I wanted.

( you have to keep the same hater energy when you do this btw)

Example:

“Who does she think she is? Just because she has a great body and works out and is always in a happy state of being. She think she’s better than us. 😒.  she think she’s rich too. She only has about $100,000 in her bank account. The rest is tied up in the stock market and crypto currency. So she technically doesn’t even have that much money. 🙄”

“ she wants to be an influencer sooo bad .ugh, So what if your YouTube channel grew by 200,000 subs in less than 3 weeks and you’re getting amazing sponsorship oppertunities. So what bitch you ain’t pewdie pie. You don’t even have 1,000,000 subs yet . Pipe down”

So in those examples, I just affirmed a reality where:

- I great healthy body

- im in a happy/content state of being

- $100,000 in in my bank account

-I have plentiful bountiful investments/crypto currency

-my YouTube channel successful

-I’m getting great sponsorship opportunities

And because I used other people to affirm those for me, it’s a stronger self concept/reality. Because I’m affirming it in, first person, third person and second person( by default).

This technique works with any “negative” dominating emotion.

So if you were anxious or have anxious dominant feelings. Start affirming, anxious thoughts that you would WANT to have.

For example:

“I hope my professor doesn’t hate me for being more educated/smarter on the subject than he is 😭. Like I get he spent years in school studying this stuff, but it comes easy to me and surpass his expertise every time without fail. I hope he doesn’t think I’m trying to show him up😰”

“ I hope the bank doesn’t get suspicious about how much money I’ve been depositing into my account. 😥Plus I’ve been getting so much money this year from random sources, in such large amounts, I’m kind of worried that the IRS is going to get involved and make filing my taxes a little complicated this year.☹️”

So, in those two short sentences, you just affirm that

you’re smart,

you’re doing well in the class, and

you’ve been getting large amounts of money throughout the year, from expected and unexpected sources. 

Remember if you want it, you can get it. Try “under-thinking” , it’s easier than you’d expect. No matter what state you are in. If you were able to tell a consistent story about how you want to be, you’re good.

* when I use the word “negative”, I’m talking about the words you are using to describe the situation. Because by default every situation is neutral. It doesn’t become positive or negative until you choose to assign it a value .

Don’t force yourself to be happy, force your thoughts to tell a better story. One that wouldn’t mind living out and experience. And the only except thoughts that affirmed the reality that you want. From any angle. You have to learn when and how to work with your emotions. Emotions are only bad if you identify them as bad.

When you come up with any other examples, please, I would love to hear them. share them with me.

[transmascissues]

I cannot thank you enough for your posts about top surgery. I'm hoping to get mine in a couple years. Your updates are really comforting to me, even (maybe especially) the bad stuff because it makes me feel more prepared. I hope your recovery keeps going well!

On another note, how did you decide whether to keep your nipples or not? I like how chests look with and without them, so it's hard to choose

for me there were a few factors that led me to go nipless:

the biggest thing was that when i imagined my body post-op, i naturally always saw it without nipples. that was just what felt right when i thought about how it would look — i didn’t even have to think about it, that’s just what came to mind. i figured, if i’m automatically picturing myself like that, that’s probably a good indication of what i would be happiest with.

i’ve also always had sensory issues related to my nipples. i basically wore a sports bra constantly, including when i slept, because i hated the feeling of loose fabric touching them and moving against them. so if i had kept my nipples, i would’ve ended up with either no sensation or more discomfort, not anything positive.

i really didn’t want to deal with the healing process for nipple grafts. my skin is super sensitive and finicky, so if anyone would be almost guaranteed to have problems with graft healing, god only knows it would be me. i also know i’m more prone to infection than most people, so avoiding the part of the surgery that has the highest chance of infection seemed like a good plan. on top of all that, i’m also a huge baby about having to touch any sort of injury on my body (just putting moisturizer on my mostly healed incisions was something i had to work up to), so i knew doing the graft care would be difficult for me too.

i know that i can be super picky about the way things look, especially when it comes to things like spacing and symmetry. so if i had gotten nipple grafts, i think it’s super likely that i would’ve ended up feeling like they were put in the wrong place or being bothered by any asymmetry in how they healed. obviously i wanted to pick the kind of surgery that was the most likely to give me results i would be fully satisfied with, so getting grafts despite knowing i’d probably end up nitpicking them for years to come just seemed silly.

i honestly really love the idea of having a chest that’s visibly different from a typical cis man’s chest. the goal of my transition has never been to look cis and i take a lot of pride in being recognizably trans, so having a kind of surgery that isn’t just trying to imitate what i would look like if i were cis was really appealing to me.

going without grafts is just cheaper, so given all of the other reasons i didn’t want grafts, there was just no reason for me to spend extra money on them. i want a few extra hundred dollars in my bank account way more than i want nipples.

and in hindsight, i genuinely couldn’t be happier with my decision. when i look at my chest, even now while it’s still not fully healed, it looks just like how i always imagined i would look with a flat chest and feels like the most natural thing in the world.

if you’re having trouble deciding which you like better, i would try just closing your eyes and imagining both on your body. this was one thing i did if i saw someone with grafts whose results i really liked and felt uncertain in my decision, because what i always ended up realizing was that no matter how good they looked on other people, it felt super weird imagining them on myself. in fact, most of the time i struggled to really even picture it at all.

you could also try gathering a bunch of pictures of both types of results and seeing how you feel about all of them. maybe when you look at the results with grafts, there’s only a few that you feel like you would be dissatisfied with, but when you look at results without grafts, there are a lot more that you probably wouldn’t want. or maybe it’s the other way around. like i said, you’re going to want to go with the kind of surgery you’re mostly likely to be happy with, so if you seem to be more critical of one kind of surgery’s results than the other, that can help guide your choice.

and if you really don’t feel any differently about them, consider the other factors: how do you feel about the healing process? is sensation in your nipples something you find pleasure in and would consider trying to preserve? what does the difference in cost look like for you and how important is that to you? how important is it to be able to pass as cis if necessary? and so on. your decision might end up being made based on something other than pure aesthetics and that’s totally okay.

[carriesthewind]

(This is a guide I’ve made for myself. Posting this here in case it is helpful for anyone else.)

“Overreacting.”

I hate that word. For many different reasons. But one of the biggest is that it is not useful. It’s effectively just an insult, because it provides no useful information.*

*Based on the general culture use of the term. No judgment if you personally use it to mean something more specific.

When I start to think or question if I am “overreacting,” here is how I try to redirect instead:

1) Figure out what I am actually doing and feeling (and make a list if necessary). This helps me remember that doing something and feeling something are different things. It also helps distinguish what I actually did already and what I am considering doing in the future, as I sometimes spiral the both together. It also helps ground me and helps me understand my own reaction. It’s especially helpful because the nature of the insult is “I did a bad thing,” and having an objective list reminding me what I actually did is really helpful to keep me from spiraling.

Note: While I find it most useful to follow these three steps in order, the questions within each step are to help guide my process, and may, but do not need to be, answered in the order given.

2) Considering if I have or am harming anyone:

Harming myself: This can include both actions (whether voluntary (e.g. forcing myself to not take a break) or involuntary (e.g. biting myself)) and emotions. Figure out what I can to stop or mitigate the harm. Figure out, to the best of my ability, why I ended up harming myself, to set myself up later to figure out ways to avoid doing so in the future. (E.g., if I had a meltdown, figure out what triggered it, what if any circumstances lead to me be vulnerable to a meltdown, and how I can try to mitigate or avoid doing so in the future.)

Sometimes the harm is something I intentionally choose to mitigate a different harm (e.g. intentionally biting myself as stim rather than screaming at someone). That is ok. It is still important to recognize it is a harm, and to recognize why I did it.

Harming bystanders: Are there people completely unrelated to the situation that I am harming? If so, how? Is there anyway I can stop or mitigate that harm? What responsibility do I have to stop or mitigate that harm?

Harming the person/people I am reacting to: Again, this can include both actions and emotions. Am I harming them, and if so, how? Is there anyway I can stop or mitigate that harm? What responsibility do I have to stop or mitigate that harm?

When I ask these questions, sometimes I can’t answer them because my reaction is some version of, “I don’t care, they hurt me, [so they deserve it/so it’s their responsibility].” Regardless of the truth or falsity of this response, this reaction is not helpful in answering the question, because even if it is the case that the harm someone else suffers is not my responsibility to mitigate (e.g. if I cut off a former friend because they are treating me badly), it’s not good for me to ignore the existence of that harm just because of my own hurt.

HOWEVER, it is useful to recognize that I am experiencing that reaction. I am not wrong or a bad person for having that reaction. Nor is it productive for me to try to push past that reaction and look at things “logically” or “reasonably” or whatever. I cannot make my emotions go away by ignoring them. And also, if I am looking at things from that lens of pain, it often means I can’t distinguish between any retributive anger I am feeling and reasonable self-protection. So if I try to push past my own hurt, I can end up also pushing past my self-protection.

Instead, it’s best to recognize that I am having that reaction, and take it into account when making my decisions moving forward. Having that reaction is not a negative nor unreasonable, it is just useful information to understand my own emotional state. I should also continue to try to check in on that reaction as time passes, to see if it has changed (and if and when it does, take the time to re-evaluate this list).

3) Consider whether my actions were productive. Not all actions (or reactions) need to be productive. But I should try to break down: what are my goals? If I don’t currently have any goals, do I want to make some? Do I want to my reaction or continuing actions to be productive to those goals? Were/are my actions productive to these goals? Were they actively unproductive? If they aren’t productive, what are some productive things I can do (and do I want to do those things)? If they were unproductive, what can I do to mitigate the damage and/or move things in a more productive direction?

[yourhighness6]

A Yue Stan's Thoughts on Yue's Character in NATLA

As much as I appreciated what NATLA was trying to do and think it is worth a rewatch, can I just say as an unapolagetic Yue stan that they completely ruined her, and Yukka by extension.

And say whatever you want about her scenes leading up to the sacrifice (which did make me cry, I'll admit, her speech about living was actually a nice addition), but it was actually this line that left me absolutely seething and in my opinion proves that the writers completely misunderstood what made the sacrifice so powerful:

I actually had to pause the television and collect myself after this one because holy fuck is this the stupidest thing I've ever heard. The entire point in the animated show was that she didn't get to make her own choices before this point. She didn't get to choose who to marry, she didn't get to choose her role in society, she didn't get to choose basically anything about her life besides maybe how to style her hair or something. Yue was a character who was extremely dutiful, but also extremely boxed in by her duty. It was both her greatest strength and her greatest weakness, a parody of itself, just as her mere existence was a parody: while she was saved by the moon spirit as a child and allowed to live on, it was that very reason that she eventually gave up her life. And the very fact that she was given these choices in the first place in the LA seriously undermined the idea of her sacrifice. Yue was told her entire life what to do, and although she did manage to find a bit of freedom through her brief romance with Sokka, ultimately, she still didn't get to publicly be with him or reject Hahn or anything similar. Her sacrifice was what she saw as her duty, yes, but her sacrifice for her people was also a way of standing up for herself and finally resolving to make her own choices. In that moment, she not only saved her people, but she finally made a decision for herself instead of doing something someone else told her to, even going against Sokka's wishes to do what she thought was necessary. So in the LA, with her having a place of influence in her community, with her being able to call off her engagement, with her being told that she could one day be chief, to that stupid fucking line implying that she was in no way ever repressed and free to make her own decisions the entire time, removing all of her character growth and any character significance to her actions, it was all basically pointless. It made Yue into a plot device for Sokka to bond with and to move the Aang-and-Kuruk plotline forward. In the animated series, Yue was not a plot device, and she was extremely well written, whereas in NATLA, her character fell completely flat. She talks about responsibility and pressure in her first scene with Sokka, but other than that, she has no depth. In other words, she has no depth besides her relationship to him.

Anyway, I hope we can all agree that her characterization and a lot of the decisions made in the last two episodes of NATLA were nothing but a pile of bulshit. From Iroh killing Zhao to Yukka having zero chemistry to Katara just magically becoming a master to Zuko being shelved to the plotline about Aang not feeling like he belonged having absolutely no buildup beyond a throwaway line in the second episode to everything about Yue I spelled out above, I would go as far to call it just plain bad. Again, I'm glad it got renewed, and I'll be the first to say a lot of other episodes get unnecessary hate, as well as that we are working with slightly different characters (especially Azula) in this version than the first, but I was really disappointed with seeing Yue in LA for a second time.