#ofc they stole the fucking body

[bonescaps]

[huevoconfrijoles]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ Guess *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ

Summary: he wants to guess the color of my underwear

Authors note: I’m so down bad for Joost it’s crazy.

Today was the day I decided to tidy up my room. The closet door barely even closed with all the clothes sprawled on the floor from times in which I swore to myself I would pick them up once I got home. I groaned, looking at the mess I made myself.

I managed to fix and rearrange most of my closet, but not without distractions. I found a bunch of clothes I stole from Joost including shirts and hoodies that were too big for my own body. The scent of his cologne lingered on my nose.

God, I miss him.

Wait, he hasn’t even texted me.

It was getting late, so I showered and got in bed, putting whatever show I came across first on Netflix for background noise. It was another hour before I received a text from Joost.

we just got done

you up? :p

Of course, I was up and he knew it. I can’t sleep without telling him goodnight. I mean I can, but I don't want to

yes im upp

im sleepy tho

I snapped a quick picture in bed showing off the shirt I had clearly stolen from him. A white t-shirt that read ‘I ❤️ Joost Klein’. That man loved himself maybe a bit more than me. I don’t mind.

what are you wearing? 🤨

a shirt lol

just a shirt then?

ofc not 🙄 im wearing stuff under too

i hope it’s another joost klein shirt with joost klein socks. he’s a cool guy.

yeah he’s the bestt

and unfortunately it’s not another joost klein shirt sorry 😔

i don’t know i might need proof

My cheeks started to burn up. He’s not even here next to me, and he knows how to make me flustered.

Fuck it.

I quickly pull off the sheets and roll my top up a bit just so there’s under boob.

see. just 1 joost klein top here.

id rather there be no top involved.

But let’s not say

My heart jumps at the notification.

1 image attachment

joost klein underwear over here

Like I said, that man loved himself more than me at this point.

I'm going to need some of those underwear

I’m sure the ones you have on right now are wayyy better than some loser named joost klein…

i bite the inside of my cheek at the thought of where this conversation is heading.

wouldn’t you like to know

i would.

what color are they?

He’s such a guy, of course he’d want to know

guess

pink

see through?

no idea (i’m a visual learner btw)

I soon got an incoming FaceTime call from a red-cheeked Joost.

“So was I right? ” His face was illuminated, but I could see the tiredness in his eyes mixed with lust.

“Not even close”, I laughed and sat up a bit.

“You’re lying, let me seppe.”

I gently bite the side of my lip while I fulfilled his wish. I lift the oversize shirt that was covering my lower half painfully slowly. So much that Joost groans out of frustration.

“Such a tease” he muttered.

I finally gave him a peek at my black lacy undergarment. The look on his face was pure desperation. He roughly swallows and ruffles his hair.

“I wish I was there with you” he says.

“I know baby” I said, looking into his blue eyes through the screen.

“ Can you touch yourself for me?” he quietly asks, to which I nod and comply.

My hand travels down from my chest to my thighs, my phone in the other tracking my actions.

I could hear his phone shake a bit. He adjusted the position so that his upper torso and lower half of his body were in the frame.

He palms himself through the tight fabric of his boxers. Soft moans escape his mouth every so often as his eyes follow my every move. His gaze never faltering from the screen.

My hand travels down to push the lace fabric to the side. My fingers work in a fast motion against the slickness, dipping in and out occasionally.

Our moans fill the atmosphere in my room. We both come down from our highs and are a panting mess.

“I love you, but now I have to go clean up the mess you made me do” he says, winking at me through the screen.

[paymechildsupport]

Doppel!GOJO x Reader // "Looks Satoru Enough.." [JJK x TNMN crossover au] 🥛🔵

---

PROMPTS (combined):

"so what about gojo but hes a doppelganger like the milkman. and basically (afab) reader is his girlfriend and doppelganger gojo pretty much is obsessed with reader. so then one day reader finds out and doppelganger gojo is pretty much just scared but all reader cares about is if he loves her. and so he basically confirms that he loves her and is obsessed with her, and then from that point on just smut....

"doppelganger Satoru who tricks you into letting him inside. But once he's in he doesn't care about killing the neighbours he just wants to fuck you and give you all his cum milk. If you're feeling extra down bad maybe some breeding kink 😊(ofc he's the milkman in this)"

---------------

>> @maskedpacific @sadmonke hope I did your prompts justice, a lot of it was winged 😋🥛

JJK TNMN au: all the characters of JJK just in TNMN

-!! Monsterfucking ; oral sex ; overstim(?) ; he has a really long tongue

-!! No pronouns, -- genetalia is referred to as a "hole" -- so creative reading freedom

——— 

Doppel!Gojo who assumed the identity of your pretty boyfriend after devouring his decaying corpse behind a back alleyway,— his first and only thought of entering the complex, your complex 

Doppel!Gojo who for months beforehand could only admire you from afar, confined to the shadows. He could look, but he could not touch. He’d glare in envy as his parallel self continued about his normal life,— milkman everyday, delivering your neighbors with their daily supply of dairy. His company slogan: “The Strongest”, because milk made your bones nice and strong (you see what I did there? You see the pun? Yeah.. okay, I’ll stop 😔). 

He was your boyfriend,— yet he’d never look at you. You’d simply be off to the side, smiling, forced to observe as you the frustratingly cocky real Satoru Gojo borderlined flirted with your other neighbors. He didn’t even touch you anymore,— so busy socializing, working- stuck in that silly little head of his,— every night your neglected body would have to sleep in a cold bed. 

The real Gojo also happened to be the strongest DDD agent out there, — the best of the best— ; when he wasn’t the milkman he was out slaughtering those wretched doppelgängers trying to claw into everyday human life. Single-handedly, he’d manage to keep your specific complex completely Doppel free for the past decade. You often wondered if you’d all survive a day without his protection. He had such a keen eye, always knowing a fake when he saw one. Yet another thing keeping him busy: he’s the strongest, he’s suppose to protect everyone,— and you were just his lover,— no, side piece. 

Doppel!Gojo knew he could do better, knew he could treat you like you deserve. If— no, when — he stole the real Gojo’s life his one and only priority would be to shower you in the love and affection you so deserved. He was by far the most advanced of his kind, an almost exact replica,— having all the same defining features as the original: snowy hair, bright blue eyes,— though slightly eerier than the original pair,— and that same cocky, lopsided smirk.

You’d started to branch out, seeing as your ‘boyfriend’ clearly had more important issues— he just wasn’t ready for a relationship,— you being the biggest victim of his inflated ego. Too proud to let you go, but too self conscious to properly stand by your side 

So, you’d often talk to the other residents of the complex: Nanami— a spokesperson, and Shoko— the surgeon, have quickly become your newest buddies. 

Doppel!Gojo knew you like the back of his charred, clawed hand— the only differentiating key feature,- a staple of all doppelgängers. Covering them with the gloves of Gojo’s milkman uniform was easy enough. He had spent ages observing from afar, admiring,- adoring,- practically drooling everytime you’d double take in an alleyway when you swore you heard a noise behind you. He could watch you for eternity, looking inside of your apartment through an open window, cock erect and unbelievably hard in the confines of those mortal pants. 

Doppel!Gojo has been patient, and now that it’s finally his turn, the only thing on his mind is getting your perfect body spread on his bed, fully bare and naked for him to feast upon. 

With the “strongest” dead, it would take practically nothing for the doppelgängers to break in and overrun the place,— but all he did was slaughter whatever doppelgänger crossed his path on his way to your room. Practically breaking the door down, you had no time to react before your boyfriend slammed you against the wall, mouth open in a small “o” as he began feasting.

---

“S—Satoru.?” it’s been forever since your voice pitched like that, syllables squeaking from the overdose of pleasure between your thighs

“Mmm?” the snowy white of his head lifts up momentarily from your thighs, blue eyes blinking innocently. He hums, playing with the elastic of your panties, pulling and slapping them against your thigh, “s’mthing you need, baby?” 

“I.. *hic*” sparks fly through your system as his warm tongue presses against the growing wet spot of your underwear, throwing your head back, “AH– .. *hic*. n-..no-” 

He smiles, all teeth, and you can’t help but feel like prey the way he eyes you; hungry, – starving, even. 

“Hmm.. if you say so,” 

You gasp as he tears your panties off, the cold air slapping you. He licks his lips, an animalistic urge overtaking him as he dips down between your legs. 

You're stuck wide eyed, only able to watch as his snowy head bobs up and down, tongue suddenly grazing your entrance. 

“S-SATORU– .. G-GAhh.. ngha~.” You mewl, pleasure curling through your body as he curls his tongue, flicking it just in the opening, almost exactly where you need him, “c-CAReful, – Sato..- aa OOh~” he takes long, full strokes with his tongue, the muscle slipping right into your slick hole. He groans at the taste of you, sloppily twisting his tongue inside. You buck your hips, fucking his tongue into you, squealing at the way he slobbers. His lips grace your ass, practically making out with the lips of your soaked folds. You can’t even question how he’s still breathing, being suffocated between your thighs, – nor why his tongue is so inhumanly long, hitting deeper than what even any human cock should, – not when he fucks you with it so good. 

Sharp blades pierce the meat of your legs, causing you to shriek, the pain immediately drowning in the immense waves of pleasure racking through your body. ‘Satoru’ grips you, spreading your plush ass further while his tongue digs absurdly deep inside you. Your insides are coated in his saliva, the warm, strong muscle of his tongue finally hitting your pelvis, – and you come hard. 

He eagerly laps you up, drinking from you like you were the finest of wines. 

“God.. you taste.. Heavenly” 

You can only shake violently as his tongue retracts from your inside, done invading your organs. Thick, heavy sobs rack your entire body, thick coils of pure pleasure tighten, wanting more. 

A predatory smile donning his features, ‘Satoru’ licks his chops like a dog eyeing a particularly tasty treat. Hastily ripping off his tie and peeling away his clothing, ‘Satoru’ eases your body onto the living room couch, spreading you out perfectly for him before lowering himself on top of you. 

You grab his face, cupping his cheeks in your hands. He’s practically glowing, pale, milky skin soft underneath your fingers. His blue eyes bore deeply into yours, absolutely stealing what little breath you had left away. 

You should ask what the hell that was, who fuck, – or rather, – what the fuck was he, and what’d he do to your cold-shouldered boyfriend. 

But as you gaze into those sapphire windows, you can only whisper; 

“Do you still love me..?” voice soft and thick with the tears choking your throat. 

‘Satoru’ brings is blackened claw to your face, long, agile fingers wiping away your tears, 

“Of course I do… I love you more than everything, – more than you could possibly imagine.” (not like he was wrong)

You smile softly, body too weak to lift itself up to kiss him. 

He brings his lips to yours, and you kiss him back. 

Looks Satoru enough. --

----------------------------------------------------------------------------

milk. 🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛🥛

[ynbabe]

Fake texts au- pt.8 bffs with the rookies+ The Hangover

Lando being Lando with .jpg and Max and Charles are now involuntary babysitters

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lando.jpg

liked by 321,023 users

Tagged: @/alex_albon @/arthur_leclerc @/logansargeant @/oscarpiastri @/its_y/n_love

lando.jpg "we will never drink again" just look at em lie

view all 10,874 comments

landonorris i dont even know how y/n is alive rn

logansargeant fr I don't even remember getting back to the horel its_y/n_love I DRAK TEQUILA FOR YOUR UNGRAEEFUL ASS SMH arthur_leclerc WHY AM I IN A SHOPING CAT??? oscarpiastri why are we sleeping on the road?

its_y/n_love damn slide 5 logsn stole my bikch 😥

oscarpiastri more importantly why am i little spoon? hello? logansargeant cause I'm built diffrnt 😤

maxverstappen Never get them near alcohol. ever again.

charlesleclerc atleast you didn't have to CLIMB UP A BUILDING TO GET ARTHUR AND LOGAN OKAY maxverstappen THATS BECAUSE Y/N AND OSCAR KEPT RUNNING ONTO THE ROAD!!

alex_albon ... why am i crying im slide 4

oscarpiastri cause you weer flirting witn lily and she told you shee had a bf alex_albon understandable

username omg not them drunk answering in the comments 😭

username ong what did they drink ?!?!?1 username tequila apparently username girl ain't no tequila doin all that

username WE FINALLY FOUND HER GUYS

username lando.jpg coming in clutch 💪 username not her endangering the driver's life by sleeping on the road and pushing arthur in a shopping cart 🙄 username fr like this isn't funny they should stop being friends with her look what Max and Charles said username can yall leave the poor girl alone! they're all adults it was their friends first point ofc they're gonna party ion see yall saying shit abt max and his redbull parties 🤨

After your wild night, it was Oscar who came through first, groaning at the awkward position he was sleeping in, his neck sore with a horribly tough and warm pillow under it. He tried shoving it off but was only met with soft groans and a 'fucking stop', well that was enough to wake up the Aussie.

He turned around to be face-to-face with his childhood best friend, he let out a small yelp and pushed himself off the small sofa they were sharing, waking up the others.

"Oh my god, please shut up," came the hoarse voice of his friend Y/n, from the other side of the bed, on which Alex was the only one sleeping, his phone still on Facetime with his girlfriend, Lily.

As Y/n began pulling herself up, a deep Monganesque voice protested, "Y/n, stop moving," making the young woman's eyes widen as she pulled her hand away from the shirtless f2 driver's chest.

"Why aren't you wearing your shirt?" She asked looking at the boy still lying down on the floor, head clutched in his hands, "actually, Albon, why don't you have your shirt either?" she asked pulling herself up and lending her hand to the struggling boy next to her.

"I can answer that," came a woman's garbled voice through Alex's phone making him jump up to grab it, "Arthur fell off the bed onto you and when you pushed him off he used his shirt as a pillow," 'oh, that's why my ribs hurt' the younger woman thought, throwing a look at her friend, "and Alex was 'literally on fire and going to kill whoever messed with the AC'" she said with air quotes, making her boyfriend turn red.

"Thanks, Lily, I'll call you later, love you." he spoke and cut the call, "Remind me to never ever drink with the four of you again."

"Oscar, you kick in your sleep," Logan complained as he sat up, exploring all the black and blue bruises on his body, "why do we look like we were in a fight club?" he asked out loud making the others look at themselves.

Oscar had a few scratches on his knees and arms, Arthur had bruises and scratches littered all across his palms and hands and a nasty hand-sized bruise on his back, Y/n had a swollen nose, with a deep-ish cut along her eyebrow, the only unscathed on was Alex.

They all got dressed not bothering to change, knowing whose room they were in and walked to the private buffet that had been set up for the driver staying in the hotel, courtesy of Paris Hilton's soft spot for Lando.

As soon as they walked in, they were greeted by Lando, smiling and laughing as he recorded with his phone.

"Merde, I'm going to die, shut the lights," the youngest Leclerc said as he threw himself on the chair, closest to him, letting his head fall back. Y/n was next to accept the defeat of being conscious, sitting and immediately letting herself slump over her head smacking the wooden table with a loud thud, the woman would have been hurt if Logan hadn't moved his hand under her face, letting it bear the brunt of the impact. The blonde wasn't in any better shape, throwing one of the table napkins on his face to block out all light and noise. Oscar was the last to sit, simply clutching his head in his hands, almost pulling out his hair, at the massive headache he had.

Soon after, the unwilling babysitters followed, scowling at the sight of the supposed adults who were in no condition to be awake.

"All four of you, delete my number from your phone," the Dutchman spoke as he sat down next to his British friend, "eighty-two calls of all of you singing Barbie girl at 2 IN THE MORNING," he yelled slightly making the four whine.

"Please for the love of god shut up," the Aussie spoke up surprising the three sober men.

"Arthur mate, what did you all drink?" his brother asked laughing.

"Last I remember were the shots," he answered in broken French and English.

"So you don't remember when you all ran out of the club and went to Costco?" Lando spoke with a smirk, "And Y/n pushed Arthur around in the parking lot in the shopping carts,"

"What?" the pair asked, the girl sitting up, letting the blonde take back his hand.

"Oh, that is not even the worst part," Charles continued, "You and Oscar stole traffic cones, put them over your head and began tackling each other, and slept on the road," he chuckled making the duo look at each other with wide eyes.

"Oh and let's not forget when Logan and Arthur climbed up a building," he said knudging the brunette next to him. The two in question looked sheepishly at the older men and back onto the table.

"I am never going to drink, ever again," Y/n groaned as she tried to keep her eyes open.

"Yeah right, let's see you in Vegas," The youngest Leclerc sniped, making the girl throw the napkin of Logan's face on Arthur.

"Hey, guys," Lando called out bringing everyone's attention to him, the six waited as Lando's eyes widened and widened, "WHY IS THERE A TWENTY THOUSAND DOLLAR CHARGE ON OSCAR'S COMPANY CARD?!"

oof this one was long af 😭 but I hope yall like how chaotic the boys get when they're with Y/n, cause we menaces frfr.

Taglist: @dark-night-sky-99 @cashtons-wife @i-wish-this-was-me @thehufflepuffavenger1

[redr0sewrites]

HSR Characters When Your On Your Period Hcs

my period is kicking my ass rn ngl so heres how i think these hsr characters would be like if u were on ur period! i might do a part 2 to this 👀

🥀pairing(s): blade x reader, sampo x reader, kafka x reader, dan heng il x reader

🥀CW: reader is AFAB but i used gn pronouns, mentions of blood, smut, fluff

🥀minors dni with the nsfw portion

BLADE

when u first tell blade ab ur period, he is kinda confused

he knew ab periods ofc, hes been alive for a while, but he just doesnt know how to react 😭

at first he acts kinda cold and unconcerned, but SECOND he sees u doubling over in pain cuz of cramps or whatever hes rushing to ur side and worrying like crazy

if ur in pain bc of cramps, he will slowly open his arms for cuddles which is rare for him cuz hes scared of initiating intimacy

blade will do anything for u while ur on ur period, hes just very worried

he will heat up one of those packs or heat pads that u put on cramps, or he'll fill it with ice if thats what u prefer

he'll make u soup if u get headaches, and he'll give u head massages and belly massages for cramps and headaches

when blade learns that orgasms can help with period cramps, he is hesitant to try it at first

he doesnt want to accidentally hurt u and wants u to be comfortable

but if ur really needy cuz of hormones, he'll try it out

and suddenly

HE LOVE PERIOD SEX

blade has no problem with the blood, hes had enough experience with it already

in fact, he lowkey finds it hot

he finds it so arousing how desperate and sensitive u are, he loves how loud u are and how sensitive ur body is

hes esp soft during sex when ur on ur period, he worships ur body sm

all in all, blade is pretty helpful when ur on ur period and is very good at doting on u <3

SAMPO

ngl sampo would probably tease u at first

he would think its funny how easily irritated u are when ur on ur period and would try to annoy u for a while

however

if u get super irritated or stressed out bc of him he will feel super guilty

if u start to cry bc ur hormones r so out of wack and bc hes stressing u out, HE WILL FEEL SO HORRIBLE

sampo would do EVERYTHING in his power to make u happy again

he would be cracking jokes, telling funny stories, tickling u, anything to see u smile

if u ever snap at him during ur period, i feel like he would be the most likely to understand that ur hormonal and dont mean it

also since he KNOWS hes annoying u on purpose

if u have really painful cramps, sampo will go and ask natasha for some pain killers and medicine for u (if u want him to😭 im always too scared of taking medicine to take stuff for my cramps)

sampo is also super clingy and loves cuddling u, so u both are always cuddling and clinging to eachother when ur on ur period

if u get headaches, he'll just silently hold u and run his hands through ur hair while letting u rest

i also feel like he would give u a lot of gifts when ur on ur period, like a bouquet of flowers or a small piece of jewelry

when it comes to period sex, sampo is totally down

he just loves fucking u regardless of whether or not ur on ur period

he will go down on u without a care in the world, he'll lay a towel below ur hips and eat u out as if ur the most delicious thing hes ever tasted

i also feel like sampo would really enjoy u getting off on his thigh, seeing u all desperate bc of hormones and watching u grinding against his thigh and mewling his name is SO HOT TO HIMMMM

he'll start of slow, guiding ur hips to gently rock against him but pick up the pace until ur humping his leg, and then he'll start to bounce his leg and ur GONE. DECEASED I TELL U.

he will also finger u, and he enjoys watching u squirm cuz ur so sensitive <3

KAFKA

kafka has ur whole cycle memorized within the first 4 months of dating, she probably knows ur period is coming even before u do

listen, she is a planner. the second u say ur on ur period, shes pulling out a heating pad, an ice pack, some chocolates she stole bought, some extra pads, some tampons, ur comfort foods, EVERYTHING

i think kafka is really good at massages, and she'll totally give u a massage when ur on ur period, if u have back cramps, stomach cramps, thigh cramps, a headache, anything tbh and shes ready

kafka is very understanding if u need to rest, she would probably take the day off work to rest with u since u guys'll prob sync up eventually

its just a very relaxing day with her, u guys bathe together and do all different types of selfcare while just enjoying ur womanhood

she'll run her hands through ur hair while u lay on top of her, dozing off as she whispers sweet nothings to u

kafka is esp soft and doting when ur on ur period, she knows the struggle of periods

she will get any medicine that u need for cramps and anything else u need for that matter

shares ALL of her supplies with u

when the two of u sync up, i think kafka is super needy when shes on her period, she already has a pretty high libido but shes a whole different breed when shes on her period

she really enjoys when u two r grinding ur wet pussies together, ur blood mixing as the sound of ur moans fills the room while she grips her hands brutally into ur thighs, leaving behind dark bruises and scratches as the squelching sound of u two rubbing ur messy clits together fills ur senses

kafka would also be into boob stimulation, ur sitting in her lap while she plays with ur tits, mercilessly squeezing ur nipples and poking and prodding at ur breasts

she'll take one into her mouth, sucking and nipping at the mound while she pinches and rubs ur other nipple<3 the whole time ur grinding and whimpering in her lap, the stimulation making u both see stars

aftercare is important to kafka as well, she will prep u both a lovely epson salt bath to soothe u both, with bubbles and fancy soap and rose petals floating daintily atop the water as lofty music plays in the background

Dan Heng IL

dan heng is very considerate and kind when ur on ur period

like kafka, he probably tracks ur cycle as well and likes to stay relatively prepared for when its coming

he can also prob sense it with his vidyadhara-whatever powers/senses

he is always asking u how ur feeling when ur on ur period, if u need anything, he wants u to feel as comfortable as possible

dan heng will invite u to sleep with him and cuddle u, wrapping his tail around u and keeping u close

hes a little more possessive than usual when ur on ur period bc he is just worried ab u

he will certainly keep u occupied, he'll talk to u ab the archives and the worlds hes visited and all of his interests and will gladly listen to u too

if ur hormonal or sad, dan heng will gladly listen to u vent ab whatever ur upset ab and do whatever he can to change it

DAN HENG LOVES COOKING FOR U WHEN UR ON UR PERIOD‼️

hes just do caring and he loves doting on u when ur on ur period

u barely ever have to lift a finger when ur around him on ur period

dan heng loves to read to u a lot, and when ur relaxing on ur period thats what he does <3

if u get headaches, he would just lay with u and give u a head massage and hum softly while his tail curls around u

i feel like he wouldnt be super good at massages but hed try!

if u need a medicine/painkiller or anything for ur cramps, dan heng would immediately consult the other express members ab where he can get it

he would probably ask himeko for advice a lot

overall, when it comes to period sex, i feel like hes prioritizing ur comfort over his

dan heng is super big on cleanliness, and whenever u guys r fucking he will lay a towel under u

he also enjoys taking baths with u, and washing ur hair for u!

i feel like he would like it when u rode him during ur period, theres something so arousing to him ab u taking the pleasure u need from him

dan heng needs eye contact during sex, ESP DURING PERIOD SEX!

he wants to read u and know how ur feeling at all times and also to make sure he isnt hurting u

i also feel like hed enjoy simple missionary while ur on ur period so he can be close and intimate with u, plus eye contact!!

URGHH WHAT CAN I DO TO GET ME A S/O LIKE THEMMMMMMM IM IN PAIN 🫠

[hitlikehammers]

bring him home

rating: t ♥️ cw: Eddie in the Upside Down,; Steve on what he thinks is a retrieval mission for his body (it's not); Eddie Munson Lives; Kas!Eddie (ish) ♥️ tags: established relationship, secret pre-S4 relationship, post-S4, presumed dead (Eddie), mourning and heartbreak (Steve), happy ending (because Eddie is alive, ofc), soul-deep love

for @steddielovemonth day twenty-four: Love is the only thing we can take with us (@thefreakandthehair)

oh hey look, another day I didn't intend to write at all ♥️ but then @pearynice was intrigued by a stray half-baked idea and I struggle to not at least try to provide content in such instances ♥️

He’s only thought it since, since, but he’s actually kind of grateful no one knew. That no one could even have guessed. They’re on eggshells around him enough as it is, thinking it’s the loss, finally, that he couldn’t walk them back from, couldn’t recover them allfrom safe if not wholly sound. They think he’s dealing with survivor’s guilt or just the general blow of a failure so immense, maybe long overdue: and that’s probably part of it.

But only because it’s part of the bigger thing. The real loss.

They would have been together nearly ten fucking months, y’know; the better part of a whole goddamn year since that day at the mall, eyes catching and something just…clicking. Like the barest whisper breathing this could be something into the universe for them to catch if they wanted, and for all that’s still good in the world they both wanted, beyond any kind of logic they both fucking reached.

And Steve knows he’s worrying everyone, knows Joyce cooks for him because she’s sacred for him, knows Claudia bakes for the very same reason; he knows Robin’s gone back to biting her nails over him, and he hates that, he hates it but, like: Steve feels like he left his soul in that hellscape with the man he’d wrapped up in it; knows he left his heart there, because he gave it to that same man ages ago and never ever considered taking it back—and he’s kind of just a, a shell, now, and it’s good that they all think Steve’s just fucked up over the lost, over-inflated savior complex, Rob had muttered more than once and sure, fine—let them think that’s all it is.

It means he can plan without interference.

It means he can drive to the last oozing rift in the world with axes he found in the garage, a crowbar he grabbed at The War Zone—which he knows because he found a receipt, not because he can remember going, driving, paying; he fucking can’t—a fucking tire lift that he things is better suited to trucks than his Beemer but that’s why he needs it: he need to rip open the earth beneath his feet because maybe his heart died down there with the boy he loves in ways he didn’t know he could, not until he found those reserves of feeling inside him well up for the fact of him and maybe it’s too later for his heart, and maybe his soul’s locked in as a funeral shroud but godadmn it all—

Steve needs to bring Eddie’s body home.

Dropping through he fissure in the ground is second nature, like something calling him through the break and that feel right, because the Upside Down for what it is alone is somewhere Steve never wants to be, never wants to touch: but what it holds now what it stole from him and claimed and kept: Steve wants that back beside him, it doesn’t matter how. Cold, torn, broken, gone—Steve’s already those things himself. Now he’s just a raw nerve, but if that nerve could go numb, could freeze for so much pain, so much abuse and hurt. He feels more for the knowledge of how much things should destroy him; he thinks his body is more of an echo chamber, a void that moves but isn’t…there anymore.

Is here, because he left the best of him, the whole of him here, and he—it creaks in his knees when he hits the ground on the other side, shoots up his spine from the bones of him on contact; it should hurt, it should hurt but he can’t feel so much, and he needs to get his bearings, needs to orient, needs to figure where he is and the quickest way to Forest Hills, to where Eddie—

He can’t feel shit when he’s got a purpose, here: the first he’s had in weeks.

He moves to stand, gets to his feet at—

It’s unexpected, how much he feels the impact that knocks him back down, the weight that pushes him to the ground again and covers him, snarls at him, breathes hot and violent against his jaw, against his neck, and Steve—

Steve’ll die here, that’s clear from the hiss above him, the way he’s pinned like prey, like a meal, and the only thought he really has, in all honesty, is he’ll die here.

But he already died here, so it just feels kinda anticlimactic.

The panting against him keeps up, but it…it doesn’t go anywhere, it doesn’t become other, or more—there’s no teeth, no clawing or biting or ripping him apart, draining him dry. He doesn’t think he was afraid for any of it, exactly; his heart’s pounding but it feels distant, other and something far from him, disconnected: not a part of his shell-self, so he thinks that’s just ingrained, just an automatic response to a demo-something, probably, sizing up its meal but like, it’s not doing anything and Steve, Steve doesn’t…he’s not invested, exactly, he doesn’t even think he cares, but—

He squints his eyes open the barest crack where he’d instinctively squeezed them shut and he looks, expects the toothy petals, or even a veiny body; he looks and—

“Eddie?”

Oh, good. Heart, soul: may as well add losing his fucking mind to this place, too, third time’s a goddamn charm.

Because it’s not Eddie, it can’t be…it can’t be Eddie, and—

Not-Eddie leans into him, presses onto him full-bodied, hips to chest, thighs spread to hold him down like he’s going anywhere because, because…

Steve feels that. He feels the pressure, he feels pain where this body drags against scrapes in Steve’s skin, he feels his heart pounding, Jesus fucking Christ, that fucking hurts, but he looks at the face that’s looming over him, tipped to the side like it’s asking a question, like it’s considering Steve below, and it: the bones are sharper, the skin more pale, more drawn up tight and pulled—the eyes are red, bright like when the lighting cuts the sky, here, but everything else…

“Eddie, oh god,” Steve doesn’t want to question it, Steve doesn’t want to keep his mind if the alternative is moments with some version of Eddie whose breath he can feel again, it’s, he’s;

“Eds,” he chokes, and Eddie’s got him wholly pinned down, he can’t reach for Eddie’s face to cup it, to cradle it, so he lets his breath catch, his lungs hitch, lets the tears burn on their way from his eyes in streams as he twitches his fingers, stretches the tips to brush Eddie’s palm where he holds Steve down and—

Eddie stills, and his eyes narrow, and…

And if Steve has to die here, again: let it be at Eddie’s hands. Let it be maybe for Eddie’s…benefit, he’s wellbeing, however he survives here. Let it be for Eddie.

Always for Eddie.

But then Eddie: Eddie doesn’t let him up, still lean into Steve from the middle, but—he buries his head at Steve’s neck, and breathes in so deep, Steve gets to close his eyes and soak in the feeling of his chest rising into Steve’s own: strong.

Real.

“Known,” Eddie murmurs, shakes his head like he’s trying to shoo a fly, but then a shiver trembles through the whole of him, Steve can trace its trajectory where Eddie’s held against him, and then Eddie growls—it’s not a wholly new sound but it’s deeper, more animal in it than Steve’s ever heard and then he bites out through bared teeth: “Known.”

Then he draws back from Steve’s neck, studies him shrewdly, a little hesitant, like he’s unsure of whatever’s happening to him, in him: then he nods, chews at his lower lip in a painfully familiar move before his hands leave Steve’s wrists and he’s—

“Known.”

He’s tracing Steve’s cheekbones, the line of his jaw; he’s running his nose against the slope of Steve’s, he’s…it’s like he’s tracing him, and he does it so gentle, he almost like he anticipates it, he’s—

“Known,” and Eddie’s fucking…it’s not a growl this time but somehow whatever it is, is deeper, stronger, and he mouths at Steve’s neck again but instead of breathing him in, he’s sucking at the lines of his arteries down the sides, up and down, and then he follows the blood to the sounds, groans at a pitch Steve’s never heard before but it’s still, it’s sill Eddie, and—

“Hurt?” Eddie mouths at his chest through the layers of his clothes, sounds mournful, stills as he considers something, intent with it before his head pops up, those red eyes so wide and aching as his hands tap against Steve’s arms, frantic and—

Oh.

Oh; they’re tapping out Steve’s heartbeats to every racing clench-give echoing through his ribs and Eddie moans, almost wails, then—

“Hurt,” and he looks frantic, his eyes wild, and his mouth dropped open, bereft and seeking and oh, oh: Eddie thinks his heart’s pounding because he’s hurt, because he’s in pain and kinda, a little bit but not like that and—

“No,” Steve’s quick to try and soothe, even if his voice is barely a rasp; “no, no,” and his wrists are free to he reaches, covers Eddie’s hands and links their fingers together, feels something in him reanimate, come straight back into being just for that touch, and that it’s warm:

“Happy,” Steve gasps, and squeezes Eddie’s hands with force, with feeling; “happy, to see you,” and he closes his eyes in something like relief when Eddie’s mouth stills against his chest again; sighs when Eddie nuzzles there, like he always did, like he belongs because he always belongs.

“So fucking happy,” Steve breathes, and he feels weightless; wonders if he died. If he hit the ground and snapped his neck. If the impact was a monster and not the love of his life, somehow saved from ruin just to save Steve back in kind.

“Mine,” Eddie whispers, a little bit of a hiss for the feeling in it, the intensity sewn in as he mouths around the beat of Steve’s blood: that’s what he means. That’s his, that and everything it powers, everything it lends life.

His.

He pulls back, and Steve bites back a whimper for the loss before Eddie’s eyes find his and he looks…he looks lost, then, grasping, in need as he almost begs, like the answer is the end of all things:

“Mine?”

He lifts one of their joined hands—he doesn’t disentangle them, and fuck if Steve’s ever letting go—but he lifts them to Steve’s chest and holds there, presses down and looks pointedly at the way his palm covers Steve’s heart, looks up in askance, up and down, there and back over and again, more desperate every time and Steve tightens his fingers around Eddie’s and nods, just nods because his voice is gone, his throat’s too tight, he’s—

But Eddie sees it. Eddie understands because Eddie…

Eddie always understands what Steve can’t say.

“Mine,” he exhales like it’s the answer to the universe, like it’s proof of god and the devil, like it’s more than air to breathe and Steve’s…

Steve doesn’t even know what he is. Except: he’s alive.

He died before he left here last time, and now somehow he’s alive. “Known, s’known,” Eddie mutters, shakes his head slow and pins his gaze on different parts go Steve’s body, touches and looks up to Steve like it serves as confirmation just to meet his gaze, to watch him blink; “know, know,” and Eddie bends again, mouths at his chest and inhales sharp as he rips out, almost feral: “mine,” and then something in him gives, and he falls to Steve’s chest and Steve’s heart skips, the terror in him tangible, but he throws out his hands, lets Eddie’s grasp go to hold Eddie up and Eddie panting, gasping, something has to be wrong—

“St,” Eddie’s voice is sandpaper rough, but…but full somehow and Steve can’t name what it is, save that it makes him feel warm, from the inside, in a way he’d thought was gone forever. It prickles at his eyes and he doesn’t fight the tears:

“Ste,” Eddie coughs a little, and then he looks up, brow furrowed and muscles tight as he locks his eyes on Steve’s and grits out:

“Steve?”

And those eyes: those eyes meet Steve’s now—color in them, that depthless nightshade, drenched in that deep warm chocolate shade: Steve’s breath catches. His heartbeat skips again, but wholly different, and it looks, it feels like a weight’s been lifted; a spell’s been broken. And somehow, somehow even before anything shifted, somehow Eddie, his Eddie, he—

Whatever’s happened, whatever’s been done to him: somehow, deeper than any of it, he kept the love.

“Steve.”

Eddie’s voice shakes and he drops his weight again but this time when he presses against Steve it’s to wrap him close, to hold him a little clumsy, a whole lot desperate, and it…it feels like maybe Steve’s soul where it’s wrapped around Eddie? Like maybe he gets a little bit of it back; like maybe he can inhale and it could mean something again.

Eddie only draws back to tuck his head under Steve’s chin, to dip lower and put his lips to the center of Steve’s chest, to breathe there, like life into the heart of him again and fuck, but he feels it.

He kinda doesn’t need to know anything more, doesn’t need to have any more answers to know whatever this is, whatever Eddie needs: they’ll figure it out. Eddie’s lips are on his chest. His heart’s a mallet against Eddie’s mouth, beats up into the warm rush of his breath: there. Real.

Steve feels it.

also on ao3 🖤

tag list (comment to be added): @pearynice @hbyrde36 @slashify @finntheehumaneater @wxrmland @dreamwatch @perseus-notjackson

♥️

divider credit here

[sh1-n0bu]

hey hey!! new anon here,,

not sure how to write this but I'll try

could we get a scara x amab reader, with praise, overstimulation, and if you're comfortable body worship? (for scara ofc) i wanna make him cry 🛐

also !! can i be 🍷 anon?? <3

♡︎ 𝙮𝙤𝙪, 𝙢𝙮 𝙝𝙚𝙖𝙧𝙩 ♡︎

characters: sub!scaramouche x dom!AMAB!reader

warnings: praise, overstimulation, body worship, dacryphillia, overall very soft and fluffy

notes: of course you can be 🍷anon! slowly but surely clearing out my inbox and thinking on holding a 3k followers event. if you guys have any ideas, lemme know!

wanderer — formerly known as scaramouche, balladeer and the sixth of the eleven fatui harbingers — has always been a shut in type of person. always preferring his own space, solitude and of course, a bitter tea to go along with everything. so when you, his assistant since day one, had suddenly proposed your affections for the angry gremlin he rejected at first.

but that never deterred you. you would try over and over again. asking him out on dates, offering him some help, cuddles if he was being restless and stressed, holding his hand while he undergoes the painful weekly tortures of il dottore — you did it all for him.

and one day, scaramouche did indeed cave in and decided to accept your nth suggestion for a date. it wasn’t like he had liked you or anything, he just wanted to make you shut up quickly. he’s lying, he loved you way longer than you did him.

since then, going out on “dates” had become a usual thing between you two. you two would meet up in certain places, hang out for some time, talk for a bit, hold hands if scaramouche is feeling gutsy enough and say your goodbyes.

it had continued on for so long until it suddenly came to a stop when scaramouche had to go to sumeru with il dottore to take buer’s gnosis. of course the plan worked and the second harbinger came back with the gnosis but no scaramouche.

for some time after that, you seriously thought you were tripping absolute bonkers. everyone kept saying the sixth seat of the harbingers had been vacant and the name scaramouche or balladeer doesn’t ring a bell. you even held an audience with her majesty, the tsaritsa as well and yet she said she doesn’t remember!

that was until you decided to desert the fatui and go to sumeru yourself to find out just what the fuck was going on. it took incredibly long time — sumeru’s rainforest and desert aren’t the most hospitable places for someone so used to the cold like you — but after a whole half a year of searching, you managed to see him again.

him. the one who stole your heart. the one who caused you to desert the fatui despite knowing the punishment would be death. the one that cradled your heart gently in his hand since you’ve been assigned to be his assistant.

and by the archons was it worth the whole thing. to be chased down by the people who were once your comrades. to suffer heatstrokes in the hot desert of sumeru. to continuously get pelted by the rain and thunder in the rainforests of sumeru. by the archons was it all worth it when the moment you two locked eyes. it was as if your first meeting all over again.

by the archons was it worth it when he recognized you, dropping the scrolls in his arms as he runs up to you. it was worth it when he came to a stop in front of you — hesitating. waiting. wondering. before finally muttering “fuck it” and getting on his tip toes to plant a kiss on your lips. it was worth it all — even as you gently broke him down and rebuilt him again a whole new in your arms in the comfort of your now shared home.

scaramouche has always been a shut in type of person. always preferring his own space, solitude and of course, a bitter tea to go along with everything.

but wanderer was a bit different. he preferred to be alone, alone with you. a bitter tea and your voice going “yuck!” whenever he made you take a sip, lying and promising he put sugar in it this time. a shy stolen glance at each other and a peck or two followed by the silence of each other’s presence. “lonely together” you once called your relationship. he couldn’t agree more.

even as his first time is taken by you — the doll couldn’t be happier.

even as he whimpers and whines whenever you praise him, planting kisses on his skin as he blushed a beet red. weakly thrusting his hips back to meet yours under the dim lights of the lit candles. desperately reaching back, tangling your hair in his hand to tug you down for a sloppy kiss to try and hide his moans when you called him your “good boy”, “pretty doll” and your “one and only”.

a weak sob and sniffles resounding in your shared home as wanderer comes on your cock for the nth time. how many times had he cum by now? he’s too hazy and lust ridden to even keep up count.

tears kept falling down his face as he unconsciously grind back into your cock, wanting more. a cacophony of keens and moans and shrill sound resembling a squeal coming out of him as he feels your tip hit his prostate again. archons, he wanted to feel that again and again. feel himself get broken down by your hands, by your lips, by the soft praises coming out of your mouth, by your dick just fucking into him so good to the point his mind becomes a mush.

when you gently put him back together again — wiping away the sweat and cum staining his skin, when you cradle him gently as you two share a quick bath together, when you wrap your arms around him and hug him close to yourself — the pupet couldn’t help but smile.

a genuine, unadulterated smile of happiness spreading on his face as he hears your words of affirmation. in soft moments like this, the puppet couldn’t help but whisper out weakly in a hoarse voice.

“you, [name], my heart…” before slipping off into a dreamless state.

[novashimo]

Izuku never got Katsuki’s autograph even after all these years after graduating.

Logically it makes sense for Izuku, Pro Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight literal hero partner and Childhood friend to have Bakugou Katsuki’s autograph.

But he doesn’t, and GOD does that make Izuku upset.

It’s not because Izuku never asked, or that Katsuki is being petty and refusing to sign anything for Izuku. It’s a literal mystery on how Izuku doesn’t have an autograph for Katsuki.

The first time Izuku got Dynamight’s autograph was in their second year when the younger broke his arm and was put into a cast. Katsuki did his normal yelling and teasing but towards the end Izuku made a joke about he could atleast give him a signature on the cast as return if he was gunna be yelled at. But oh wait Katsuki’s arm was still fucked up and Izuku guess they can both have fucked up arms until they heal.

Katsuki being the little shit he was took at as a challenge and spent the next 30 minutes trying to sign Izuku’s cast with his left hand.

It was messy, after all Katsuki only been writing with his left hand for a few months at this point but it was legible.

The problem was that although Izuku had the signature, he wasn’t able to actually keep it, the cast eventually got sawed off and off that means the little sawblade went right through the scribble of a signature that Katsuki left.

Izuku obviously realized this and pouted and Katsuki looked him dead in the eyes before sending a small explosion into the others face.

“It’s just a shitty signature, wait until I catch up with my shitty handwriting and its fucking over for you”

Ofc that means it wouldn’t be until months later when it’s was Izuku’s birthday during their third year where Katsuki was fluent in writing with his left hand.

But this time, it literally went missing out of nowhere. Izuku carefully placed the autograph with a really well taken action photo of Katsuki and sent the largest hug the blonds way. Everyone took photos of Katsuki’s face that night. The Photograph stayed carefully out of reach from any cups that could spill until Izuku could take it up to his dorm room after they finished the party.

The problem is that after they ate cake and went to go clean everything up it literally just disappeared.

The whole class searched the room up and down and it literally just disappeared.

(No body realized that Koda’s bunny had reached up and snatched it off the table and was currently chewing the Picture to bits in the little kennel they had in the dorm floor)

And the cycle just continued from there

Izuku had a day off work after a long first year as the news Modern Hero Art History teacher, (because Nezu found it most interesting to have the first quirkless graduate of UA become a teacher and they never found a fitting person to take over Midnights old position) and went to a hero convention, and Katsuki’s PR team forced him to be a surprise guest.

Izuku waited in that line for HOURS and turns out he was the last person in line next to a little kid, after Izuku went into the corner and got nagged at by Katsuki for “wasting his money on a person he literally had dinner plans with later this week” Izuku got a signature.

When Izuku walked out and he saw the little kid he was in line with crying, he immediately realized that the guards must have cut the line off after him due to time and security reasons.

So Izuku did the next logical thing and gave his autograph of Dynamight to the kid.

(Katsuki rolled his eyes and smiled when Izuku told him, fond of the person he was slowly falling in love with)

The longest Izuku had Katsuki’s signature was a week before someone literally broke into the UA teacher dorms and stole it.

The fastest the autograph was gone was in less then under a minute, Izuku was on a date with Katsuki and the restaurant was suddenly being robbed, the duo off jumped into action and at the end when Izuku was giving compliments to the older, Katsuki just made a joke and signed a napkin saying ‘To my Izuku, my number one fan’. Not even 3 seconds into the napkin being placed in Izuku’s had the villian from earlier spat in their direction and landed on the napkin which suddenly burst to flames.

Acidic Spit

Katsuki burst into laughter because fate or whoever was above *really* didn’t want Izuku to have his signature.

After 8 long years of saving up, Katsuki carefully placed his autograph in the fold of the mecha suit for Izuku before going out and handing it to Toshinori.

Weeks after Toshinori gave it to Izuku, the blond asked if Izuku received his surprise, and Izuku replied happily on how he loved the suit, but doesn’t mention the autograph.

After some careful probing Katsuki realizes that the nerd never got the autograph.

Turns out that Toshinori accidentally let the photo slip out and it landed in the halls of UA somewhere, and now some snot nosed brat has a special signature From Dynamight and GOD that’s embarrassing because Katsuki wrote some really sweet lovey dovey shit on the back.

When they get married, Izuku makes a joke that the marriage certificate is the only signature that He’ll ever get, and less then 12 hours after leaving the courthouse they get a call to come back because the Documents got caught on fire.

Eventually they just kinda accept it’s never going to happen and Pro Hero GEMGD is an autograph he might not ever get.

Atleast no until their wedding night a couple months later when Kota, one of Izuku’s current 2nd year students walk up to him extremely embarrassed and hands over his wedding gift. Which turns out to be the extremely sweet message that Katsuki tried to give to Izuku a year prior with his hero suit.

Izuku definitely cried twice that night and now a specific autograph is framed and hanged in Izuku’s home office.

[mysterious-moonstruck-musings]

Closed Position: Week 5 (Rumba Part 1)

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

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

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

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

Chapter Word Count: 9.5k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“There’s also the fact that I was a complete asshole last time I was on the show. I know half the cast hate me. I’m sure they’re expecting more of the same nonsense. That’s why I was so shocked they asked me to come back. They had to be desperate.”  

She sighed, squeezing my hand a little tighter, “Stop talking like this, you don’t know that. You’re too hard on yourself.”  

I felt her shift beside me before reaching to cup my chin to turn my face toward her, “Also, it’s not your first job since being clean…dancing was and you’re totally kicking ass at that.” 

I scoffed, “Yeah, but that’s with you. You make it easy.” You make everything better.  

She smiled, “And I’m here with you now. What can I do to help?”  

She took my hand in both of hers, gently stroking the palm with her fingertips. It wasn’t much, but I could already feel myself calming under her touch. I also found the sight of her bare ring finger to be distracting for a brief moment.  

I shook my head, “I think just having you here is enough if I’m being honest.” 

She gave me a small smile, continuing to rub my palm until we got to the studio. As soon as we walked into the main entrance, we were whisked off to a sizable conference room where the writers and cast were sitting around a large table reviewing scripts. Everyone paused, eyeing us as we found our way to the open seats near the head of the table. A few people gave us polite smiles, but there was definitely tension in the room.  

The Director, Liz, greeted us and quietly got us up to speed on where they were. I only vaguely remembered her, but from her reserved demeanor, I assumed she remembered me well.  

“How much time do you think you’ll need to look over the scripts?” Liz asked. 

I shrugged, “I’ve already looked over them all.” I grabbed my phone, pulling up the app I used to make notes, “I’ve made notes too. So, I’m ready to start discussing them when you all are.”  

The room was eerily silent all of a sudden as I realized most eyes were on me. Fuck. I don’t like this. I guess they weren’t expecting me to have my shit together.  

Liz now had a surprised smile on her face, “Well, that’s good news. Maybe we can pull a writer to get you started on your monologue then.”  

I gave her a tight smile. This might make their fucking heads explode. “Actually, I’ve got a rough draft for the monologue already…if that’s ok?” 

She gave me a skeptical look, “I mean, it wouldn’t be the first time the guest host has written it themself, but it doesn’t happen often…mind if I look over it? Can you send it to me?”  

I nodded, pulling up the file to airdrop to her and feeling proud of myself that I remembered the steps of how to do that after my assistant showed me how to the previous week. As Liz sat in silence, reading the script I had written, my leg involuntarily started to bounce a mile a minute under the table. As I glanced around the room, I could see everyone watching Liz for any type of reaction to what she was reading - waiting for her to laugh me out of the room. It suddenly felt like the walls were closing in as the sweat beaded at the back of my neck.  

Then, I felt Kat’s hand on my knee, calming my nerves almost immediately. I took a deep breath and grabbed her hand under the table, squeezing it gently before she turned it to lay palm up on my knee so that she could stroke it with her fingertips like she had on the drive over. She seemed to sense how that calmed me. I chewed on my bottom lip, glancing in Kat’s direction where I was met with an encouraging smile.  

Liz set her phone down and leaned back in her seat as she gave me the oddest stare. “You wrote this?” she finally asked. I nodded shyly, unsure of where this was going.  

A wide smile broke across her face, “This is actually pretty damn funny, Bravo.”  

I let out a sigh of relief as a goofy grin slid across my face. The confused faces that surrounded me did not go unnoticed either.  

Liz’s eyes drifted over to Kat, “Kat, would you be willing to be in on the monologue? Instead of having random audience members chime in, I think it would be funnier if it were you.”  

Kat’s eyes widened, “I don’t know. I’m not an actor…this could end badly.” She chuckled nervously.  

I bumped my shoulder against hers, “Come on Kit Kat, it’ll be fun.”  

She arched a brow in my direction. “Come on, you love giving me a hard time. That part will be easy for you,” I added. 

She smirked, “Fair point.”  

I snapped my fingers, “Oh, that reminds me! Do you have an extra copy of that Dirty Dancing skit? Kat hasn’t seen it yet.”  

Kat’s brows furrowed, “You really suggested that?”  

I snorted, “Hell yes. It’s gold. I couldn’t let that idea go to waste. I do have a few edit suggestions though.”  

Someone slid a script across the table toward Kat, she reluctantly picked it up with a soft “thank you” to whoever sent it over. I watched as she skimmed through it with a smirk on her face, her head shaking from side to side as she sat it down. She let out a nervous laugh, covering her face with her hands, “God, I can’t believe I’m considering this.”  

Liz gave me a sly smile before her eyes flicked back to Kat, “Come on Kat, that’s one I really wanted to do. It would be awesome to have you guys in it together. I don’t think it would be as funny without you.” 

Kat sighed, “I dunno. I’ve never acted before.”  

I cleared my throat, “Technically, you kind of do when you’re dancing. It’s still telling a story, just in a different format.”  

She gave me a blank stare for a moment, her brows raised slightly. Shit. I hope she doesn’t think that’s all I’m doing is acting. 

Liz cut in, “Also, this skit will be pre-recorded. So, if you fuck it up, you can try it again. There isn’t as much pressure to get it right.”  

I nodded, “Remember, I can coach you through it…it’ll be fun…and there’s dancing too. It’s not that big of a stretch.” 

She sighed, “Ok, fine. I’ll do the Dirty Dancing skit…I need to think about the monologue. Doing something live is a whole other can of worms.” 

I snorted, “Says the woman who lets Dieter Bravo sling her around a dance floor on live TV once a week.”  

She chuckled, “That’s also a fair point. I do let you do that.” She inhaled deeply, “Can I see the monologue?” 

I nodded excitedly and handed her my phone. Kat snickered quietly to herself as she read through it. All eyes in the room were still on us through this entire discussion, but it somehow seemed like the tension in the room had lessened.  

A few minutes later, Kat handed my phone back to me. She leaned back in the seat with a somewhat mischievous smile on her face, “Can I make some suggestions?”  

My brows pinched together. I wasn’t sure if I liked the sound of this or not. Liz, of course, told her to “have at it.”  

She chuckled, “We can make sex jokes, right?” 

My eyes widened. That is not what I expected to come out of her mouth.  

Liz chuckled and nodded.  

Kat smiled, “Well, dancing is often compared to sex…this bit where he’s talking himself up about being a good dancer…I can totally twist that.”  

I snorted, “What did you have in mind?”  

“You remember when I said you have loose hips?” She paused, giving me a wicked smile. “And to be clear, this was in reference to Latin dancing, so don’t you all get any ideas,” she added for those listening. The room filled with quiet snickers at her words. 

I nodded, unsure where this was going. She chuckled, “Well, you can mention something about your loose hips and how that makes you good at lots of things…some sort of sexual innuendo. I can interrupt you and point out that you have loose hips with no rhythm, so it’s pointless.”  

Me and several of the guys in the room gave each other curious looks while several of the women snorted out a laugh. 

I gave Kat a confused look as she chuckled. “The women get it,” she added.  

It finally clicked, “Are we talking about orgasms right now?” The question was out of my mouth before my filter kicked in.  

All of the women in the room cackled with laughter. Kat leaned over toward me with a smirk on her face as she peered up through her lashes. She was so close the sides of our bodies were pressed up against each other and I could smell her, a mixture of citrus and floral notes completely invading my senses.  

“Yes, we’re talking about orgasms right now. Specifically…how men fuck them up.”  

Fuck. She can’t be talking about this. My dick instantly stood to attention. I had never been more thankful to be sitting behind a table in my life. I laughed nervously, “Well, that’s an interesting take that I’m sure will get some laughs.”  

Liz leaned forward, still snickering slightly, “I may just let the two of you come up with the monologue yourselves. I never would’ve guessed you play off each other this well.”  

Liz called everyone to attention after that to see if they were ready to start narrowing down the scripts. I squirmed in my seat, attempting to adjust myself without being obvious when I felt Kat’s hand on my knee again. Fuck. No. Please stop. I glanced at her with a tight smile. She was biting her bottom lip as she winked at me and squeezed my thigh. It was meant to be a comforting gesture, but my dick didn’t see it that way. It took every ounce of strength I had not to come in my jeans. It’s gonna be a long fucking week full of cold showers.  

It was obvious what she was doing, trying to break some of the tension in the room. She had effortlessly succeeded in doing that and also managed to give me a raging hard on in the process. To make it worse, I think she was mistaking my tense posture for nervousness. She pulled my hand to rest on her thigh under the table so she could continue lightly stroking it with her fingertips. I could feel the feather light graze all the way to my toes and it was making it nearly impossible for me to focus on anything but her touch.  

Luckily, Liz asked to start with me on skit feedback. So, I took the opportunity to pull my hand away to open the notes I had made on my phone. It turned out to be just the distraction I needed, allowing my body to calm the fuck down before I made a fool of myself.  

After sharing my top 15 skits, we were quickly able to narrow it down from there. Surprisingly, Liz encouraged me to suggest edits on the final scripts. I couldn’t remember her wanting me to be this involved last time I was here. I took that as a positive sign and freely gave my thoughts and suggestions as we did some quick read throughs. That whole process went surprisingly faster than we had anticipated, which meant we got to start the photoshoot a little earlier too.  

After getting polished up for the shoot, Kat and I were waiting around in the hallway for the photographer to get the lighting the way he wanted it. As we stood there, we were approached by some guy who I thought might be one of the writers. I vaguely remembered him from the last time I was on the show, but I couldn’t remember his name. Dan, maybe? Daryl? Derek? I went through a list of names in my head, but nothing sounded right. I’m sure I was too messed up to have made an effort to remember it.  

Kat and I gave him a polite smile as he approached. I assumed he wanted to chat about one of the scripts. However, the way he pulled me into a tight hug and lingered in my space told me otherwise. Dammit, please tell me I didn’t fuck around with this guy.  

He finally pulled away, eyeing me up and down appreciatively. Yep, we definitely fucked around. Fuck.  

“How ya been, Bravo? Haven’t heard from you since you were here last.”  

I gave him a tight smile, “Good, been busy.”  

I felt Kat’s hand rest on my back as she moved in a little closer to me. She could clearly sense the tension. Fuck.  

“Ahh, yeah. Well, you free after this? We could head back to my place and have some fun. I’ve got some good shit you need to try too.”  

He ran his fingers down the front of my chest in a suggestive way. I could feel Kat tensing beside me as she realized what was happening. Fuck.  

I took a step backward, my brow furrowing as I shook my head. “Sorry, man. I’ve kicked the habit. I’m not into that shit anymore. I’m living the clean life now.”  

His eyes widened, “Oh. So, all that rehab gossip is true then?”  

I nodded.  

He shrugged, “Well, we can still have fun without the drugs. I don’t have to have them.”  

My eyes darted to Kat. She looked absolutely mortified. I was already fucking this up with her. 

He must have caught my worried glance because his eyes shifted to Kat, just noticing her for the first time. My realization finally kicked in that he was already high on something based on the way his pupils were dilated.  

“You can bring your girl, too. You know I'm all for a group thing.”  

Kat scoffed, “Excuse me?”  

I started shaking my head and moved to put myself between them, “Look, Dan…” 

“Dave,” he corrected me.  

Close enough. I gave him a tight smile, trying my best not to be an asshole, but he wasn’t taking the hint.  

“Dave, I’m not trying to be a dick when I say this…but I’m not interested in anything you have to offer. I’m clean and I don’t do the random hookup thing anymore. Got it?”  

His mouth dropped open slightly as he moved backward a couple of steps, looking between Kat and I. Kat’s arm looped through mine as she pulled me in closer to her. I now realized why, there was something off about the way Dave was looking at us. I chalked it up to him being high. His pupils were so dilated that his eyes appeared almost black. 

His lips eventually turned upward, “I get it…you’re in, like…an exclusive thing now, right? Well, more power to you babe. Can’t believe someone finally locked him down.”  

Kat and I were both shaking our heads as Dave turned to walk away without another word.  

I sighed, “I’m sorry about that. I’m pretty sure he was messed up on something.”  

Kat shrugged, “Why are you apologizing? You’re not the asshole here, he is.”  

I puffed air out of my cheeks, “Yeah, but if I hadn't been such a disaster before, he wouldn’t be talking to me like that.”  

Kat grimaced, “So, you hooked up with that guy before?”  

It was my turn to grimace, “I honestly have no fucking clue. If I did, I don't remember it. I’m still sorry you had to experience that though. I can tell it made you uncomfortable.”  

She cupped my cheek, “I’m fine. It just took me by surprise. I know you’re not that person anymore, so it doesn’t bother me. I’m proud of you for telling him no and sticking to it.” 

I gave her a small smile, “I appreciate that.”  

Her face changed to concern, “Are you ok? That can’t have been good for you to experience either. Do you need to talk about it?”  

I shook my head, slightly confused by her question. 

She seemed to sense it, “Someone just offered you drugs. Did it make you feel any kind of way? Do I need to be concerned?”  

My brows pinched together as I considered her questions, “No, not at all. I didn’t really feel anything other than concern about you having to deal with that shit. Really, zero cravings. The thought never crossed my mind.”  

She nodded, “Good. Seriously though, if you feel the urge to use or drink, please talk to me about it. I know this whole situation is stressing you out a little.” 

I pulled her in for a tight hug, burying my face in the top of her hair and inhaling deeply, “I promise…I’m good. You’re a good distraction from all that nonsense.” Damn Bravo, don’t push it.  

I felt her chuckle against my neck, her hot breath blowing against my skin in a way that felt far too intimate and caused little Bravo to twitch in my pants all over again. I’m definitely gonna need a cold shower later. I loosened my hold on her, reluctantly. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry to let go either but did. At that moment, someone from the hair and makeup team popped out into the hallway, “Kat, Liz just called and said she wanted to get you in a few of the promo shots if you’re willing. You cool with that? We can glam you up right quick.” 

Kat gave me a nervous look, before agreeing and disappearing into hair and makeup. The photographer was ready for me soon after that. We got started on some solo shots, going through several wardrobe changes and backdrops in the process. Kat finally joined me, in a deep purple evening gown. They put me in a tux but kept the look relaxed with the top shirt buttons open and tie undone. For the most part, Kat was out of frame, pulling me by the tie hanging loosely around my neck or pressing her foot to my face. It was all very playful, which led to a lot of laughter between us. 

It was hard not to be distracted by her as she stood just out of frame, essentially manhandling me under the direction of the photographer. She looked so fucking good. They actually hadn’t put her in a ton of makeup, allowing her natural beauty to show through the way I liked. The deep purple of the dress against her skin was creating so many images in my mind that I knew I would come back to later.  

The photographer did take several shots with Kat in the frame as well. I was excited to see the ones of her sitting on top of a piano while I fake played. There was something sexy about the way she was stretched out in front of me. There were also a few shots where I had my back toward her, and she was leaning down with her hands splayed out over my chest. In another, I was leaning back between her knees with one arm looped around her leg to rest my hand on her bare thigh. At one point she ran her fingers through my hair, tugging it slightly so that I looked upward at her. The photographer loved it…and so did my dick. I’m pretty sure I even whimpered a little, to my embarrassment. I had to start going through a list of plant names in my head so that I didn’t get hard again.  

Some of the photos seemed a little sexy for a SNL promo or bumper, but we went with it, giggling like teenagers through the whole process and relishing in the light touches. I couldn’t help but to joke about how the Dieterina stans were going to lose their minds over the photos, which honestly, I think was their intent. They had to be aware of the online gossip just as much as Stacia and Joe were. Why else would they be pushing so hard for Kat to be involved? 

Soon after that, we were finished with our SNL duties for the day. Both of us were already running on fumes by the time the driver picked us up from the studio, but we still had to put in dance rehearsal time. I tried not to complain too much because I told Kat that I would work my ass off to be able to do this and I meant it.  

We decided to grab some takeout on the way back to the hotel. After picking up the food, my cell rang. It was my assistant, Evan, calling to check in and go over some minor scheduling changes for the following day. I took the opportunity to see how things were going back home, “How’s Zee doing? Did she eat today?” 

Evan huffed, “D, I swear, that cat fucking hates me. She just gives me a judgy stare from across the room…like who the hell are you and why are you here? She swatted at me when I walked through to go to the kitchen, then hissed at me when I set her plate of food down.” 

I chuckled. I don’t know why, but it made me feel all warm and fuzzy that she didn’t like anyone but me and Kat. “It’s your vibes man. You need to relax and stop being so uptight around her. She doesn’t like that shit. Did she eat?”  

I glanced at Kat and smiled as she arched an eyebrow in my direction.  

“Yeah, she did. That’s not been a problem.”  

I nodded, “Good. I was worried she wouldn’t if I was gone. Did you do today's plant care routine yet?”  

Evan chuckled, “Yeeees, I’m working on it now.”  

I scratched my chin, now feeling like a nagging parent. “You’re using the rainwater, right? Not tap water?”  

Evan was silent for a moment before he finally answered, “I mean…does that really matter?”  

I let out a controlled breath and pinched the bridge of my nose, “Please tell me you're joking? Yes, it matters. The tap water has chemicals in it. It’s not good for the plants. The chlorine is terrible for the soil bacteria, and it can cause calcium and magnesium build up which fucks with their ability to absorb nutrients.”  

I could feel Kat’s eyes on me. I shot another glance her way, finding her fighting a smile as she turned to look out the window.  

I heard Evan snicker, “D, I’m messing with you. I’m following your instructions and watering schedule to a T. It’s fine…just relax and try to have some fun while you’re there. I’ve got it covered here.”  

I huffed, “Dude, don’t mess with me like that. It’s not funny.” 

Evan snorted, “It kind of is, actually.”  

I shook my head, “You’re a dick sometimes. You know that? Anyway…just a reminder…when you take care of the plants in the art studio tomorrow, make sure Zee doesn’t go in there, please. Those plants are poisonous to cats.” 

“I’m sure the giant ‘No Cats Beyond This Point’ sign on the door will remind me well enough, but thanks,” he replied sarcastically.  

I snickered, “Hey, I’m just making sure bases are covered. If my cat dies because you can’t follow directions, I’ll have your ass.” I was only halfway joking with that statement.  

Evan scoffed, “Excuse me? I’m the one that was hired to hold your hand. Don’t give me that shit. Anyway…go spend time with your hot dance partner. I’ll check in tomorrow.”  

Shit, I hope she didn’t hear that. I glanced at her again, she was still staring out the window with a smile tugging at her lips. Evan had been giving me hell about having “the hots” for my dance partner for the last few weeks. I hadn’t told him it was true, he just assumed based on our chemistry on the dance floor. He was very pro Dieterina. Knowing him, he was probably the one who got that hashtag started.  

Evan and I finally said our goodbyes just as the SUV was pulling up to the hotel. I quickly hopped out of the vehicle to open Kat’s door just in time for her to hand me our drinks. She grabbed her purse and the takeout bag before sliding out onto the sidewalk. Once back in the suite, we ate our takeout in hurried silence. Afterward, we quickly changed into more comfortable clothes then decided to rehearse on the large outdoor terrace just to save us the hassle of finding the conference space that had been reserved for us.  

I could tell Kat was tired. Her eyes looked heavy, and she wasn’t as energetic as she normally was during rehearsals. I felt kind of bad for dragging her into this craziness, but I didn’t regret having all of the extra time with her. I couldn’t. I was enjoying it too much. She didn’t let the exhaustion get her down though, immediately switching to teacher mode as soon as we stepped out onto the terrace.  

“So, the rumba originated from Cuba. It’s known for a specific hip movement which is often called the ‘Cuban Motion’ combined with two quick side-steps and a slow forward-step.”  

She showed me the movements as she talked through it. I tried to focus on her words rather than the way her hips were moving, because if I didn’t, I was going to have a problem…again. I mimicked her footwork as she smiled and nodded in approval. It seemed simple enough.  

“The rumba tends to be a very flirtatious and sensual dance. Think of it as…a vertical representation of a horizontal desire.”  

My brows arched at her words. Fuck. Here we go with the sex talk again. I’m done. I snorted, “Pretty sure I could pull that desire off vertically too. No representation needed.”  

Kat’s eyes widened. Oof. Too far, Bravo. Too Far. I pursed my lips, waiting for her admonishment. Instead, she chuckled, “Pretty sure we would be kicked off the show and arrested for that.” She paused, now smiling to herself as she peered up at me shyly, “Funny enough, the Cuban government did ban this dance at one point because it was too sexually charged to be performed in public spaces.” 

Well, that’s not a no. Is she teasing me? I gave her a flirty smirk, “Well, I’ll try to keep the lewd acts to a minimum then.”   

Her eyes narrowed as she fought a smile, “At least keep them off the dance floor.”  

My teeth sunk into my bottom lip as my brow arched in her direction. I really didn’t know how to take this. Is she flirting? It felt like she had been more and more as the day went on. I finally huffed out a laugh, “Don’t worry. I’ll behave unless I’m told to do otherwise.”  

She rolled her eyes playfully, “Noted.”  

An odd silence stretched between us as our eyes took each other in. It wasn’t uncomfortable or awkward, but it was different. She was standing a few feet away from me, but I could still feel the heat radiating off her as if she was pressed against me. I cleared my throat, needing to change focus to something else before I got another raging boner.  

“So, what are your plans for this one? Any ideas?” I finally asked.  

She sighed, “Yeah, some. I tried to think ahead on it because I knew we would be pressed for rehearsal time this week. Maybe we can go through what I have so far and take it from there?”  

I nodded in agreement. She approached me, holding her hands up, signaling for me to join her in a closed position. My left hand snaked around her waist and pulled her against me, much closer than she really needed to be for the dance, but she didn’t correct it. Rather than her right arm resting along mine, I noticed she had placed higher up allowing her fingers to gently run through the hair at the nape of my neck. The feel of it sent shivers down my spine and caused my skin to heat under her touch. When she took my right hand in hers, I felt her fingers lightly run along the inside of my palm before initiating a grip. It caused a tingle in my hand that radiated down my arm and through the rest of my body.  

There was something about the position this time that made it seem significantly more intimate than it had in the past. My senses felt heightened and craved her touch. I couldn’t get close enough. Maybe it was the fact that we were completely alone, dancing under the night sky and surrounded by the twinkling lights of the city - setting a completely different mood. Or maybe none of that mattered at all and it had everything to do with us pushing boundaries to see where the other stood. No matter the cause, I was loving every second of it.

We started by going through the basic steps together, then slowly worked through the rest of the choreography she had planned out thus far. The air remained thick between us and our touches seemed to linger, but that didn’t stop us from taking the rehearsal seriously. If anything, it seemed to make it more intense than usual. It was nearing midnight before we decided to call it quits. We had managed to get the first half of the routine nailed down, which was actually a really good start. We felt pretty good about having that much figured out so quickly.  

It was an odd feeling having her nearby as I got ready for bed. I swear that I could sense her presence two rooms away and it was torturous. I couldn’t help thinking how easy it would be to go to her room and slip into bed with her. I wondered how she would react if I did. These thoughts bloomed into a full-on fantasy that had me straining against my boxer briefs as I tried to fall asleep. I was torn between getting up to take a cold shower and taking care of it. I reasoned that a cold shower would only delay the inevitable. I sighed, leaning over to grab a towel from the floor that I had left there from my morning shower, then pulled my boxers down and got to it.  

The images in my head were so vivid. I could see her room and that damn mirrored ceiling above the bed. I could imagine how our reflection would look as we joined in various positions. Sometimes we were soft and sensual, others fucking and being absolutely feral for each other. I wasn’t sure which way I wanted her more.

Being soft and sensual was sort of foreign to me, making me realize that it seemed more alluring than my usual style of fucking. I finally settled on those images as I stroked myself languidly, panting and sweating as I imagined how her face would look when she came and the soft sounds she would make against my lips as I took her over the edge. It wasn’t long before I had to fight back my own moans of pleasure, turning to my side to bury my face in a nearby pillow as I spilled into the towel.  

I laid there, breathing heavily, now realizing what a long week this was going to be. I didn’t know how I was going to survive it. It was either going to break me or break us. I wasn’t sure which I wanted more.

Next: Week 5 (Part 2)

A/N: Happy Tuesday my lovelies! I'm sure you weren't expecting a new chapter this quick after yesterday's update. Luckily, I didn't have much left to add to the first part and I was able to finish it this morning. 😘

So for part 1, we got Dieter's point of view of how their week in NYC has started. Are we surprised at how nervous he was for SNL? And why? How do you think their first day went? Also, how about that interaction with Dan...Dave? I already forgot his name too...

Anyway, we see what our boy is up against in his sober life. You can bet that won't be the last interaction like that for him. It's really giving Kat a dose of something new that she's never really experienced.

We also got to see a little bit of worried Cat/Plant dad Dieter. He's too damn cute with that and I can't handle it. And we can't forget his reflection on the moment he realized that pesky ring was gone. Poor guy was feeling ALL the things.

Now, can we talk about the flirting? It's only the first day and Dieter already can't behave himself. I'd love to hear your theories on how all this is going to go down. 😂

Also, quick shout out to @quicax3 for sharing that "vertical representation of a horizontal desire" line with me. We can thank Mark Ballas from DWTS for that gem. If there ever was a line to make Dieter lose it, it's that one.

I have some good news! Part 2 is mostly written. I have a few sections I need to go back and add in from where I skipped around. I plan to post that early next week, so you won't have to wait long! That will be a rather LORGE chapter in Kat's POV.

I also have a good chunk of Part 3 written as well. No ETA on that one yet, but I don't think you will have to wait too long after part 2 is posted. Part 3 is where things really go down, so it's going to get a little extra attention from me before posting. It will definitely be smut heavy, but we will also get to see some of their vulnerability too. It will alternate between Dieter and Kat's POV. 👀

As for this chapter's video, I feel it's appropriate to share Jennifer Grey doing the Rumba. We can't talk about Dirty Dancing and not include Baby herself. Enjoy!

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[beach-hermit]

(alot of) Elliott headcanons

Some are random, some are unnecessary detailed

-Has a hair and skin care routine (that's why he needs that long to leave his house in the morning)

-Has a drivers licence, but he doesn't like to drive (mainly because he doesn't own a car, since he is in Pelican Town)

-Wears glasses when he reads or writes (I imagine when his kid shows him something on the phone, that he has to first pull out his glasses)

-Twirls his hair when he is concentrating or nervous

-Combs his hair when he's bored, even if it's already perfectly combed

-Can't cook very well, but is always trying his best

-Can sing and likes to sing

-If Elliott didn't became a writer, he would be a musician

-Likes to dance

-Randomly uses other language(s)

-He is confident, especially when it comes to his looks. He likes his appearance, but doesn't brag about it

-Coffee addicted

-Elliott picked up drawing, because he thought it looked easy when he saw Leah doing it without problem

-Likes all the flowers, but the rose especially

-Is a foodie (ofc)

-Doesn't swear. He thinks it's unprofessional and will ruin his vocabulary

-When he's mad or irritated, he'll accidentally say fuck or shit, but will instantly, dramatic cover his mouth in shock

-He doesn't get angry easily, but gets fustrated alot

-Elliott would never resort to violence, if there isn't a reason too (only if he gets attacked or his partner gets attacked)

-Probably had a little drinking problem before he got married, but doesn't like to admit it

-He's lightweight (gets drunk easily)

-Always wears a hair tie on his wrist. Just in case

-Actually doesn't like getting his hands dirty

-He talkes alot and most of the time, people don't really understand him, but they just let him talk

-Elliott uses large words that the average Pelican townie hasn't heard before

-Loves telling bad jokes

-Has no idea how to use a computer

-Carries a small notebook with him, in case a idea pops up for his novel

-Stole from Pierre once because he didn't had enough money, Elliott felt extremely guilty but also didn't wanted to tell Pierre, so he didn't shop there for a few weeks

-He doesn't shave constantly, but when he does, he shave his whole body as soon as he can't see his skin anymore

-He only shaves his beard to make his face look more youthful and to show off his bone structure

-He's always warm

-Elliott sometimes walks around naked in his cabin, mostly in the morning or at night (also in the farmhouse)

-Will occasionally takes morning laps (single and married)

-Has tried smoking once and almost threw up

-If Elliott has a problem with a townie, he just won't speak with them, if the issues wasn't his fault. (He basically waits until they apologize)

-His voice gets higher when he's nervous or scared

-He snores, not extremely loud but you can hear him outside of the room

-Sweats easily

-Elliott is soft spoken, if he's mad tho, his voice ton gets "dark" and even a bit louder

-Elliott's a fast thinker, he always has the "right" thing to say and knows good comebacks

-Elliott knows alot of useless stuff about alot of things

-Remembers the names from people he just met

-Pays attention to small details (people or in books)

-Gets offended when someone uses foul language, in front of him or to him

-He has problems to fall asleep sometimes

-His handwriting is small and in cursive, that almost no one can read, everytime he writes something down for someone, he writes in block letters

-He is expressional, you can tell if he's sad, mad or happy

-Doesn't really celebrate his birthday, for him it means that he'll get older and that makes him depressed

-Elliott is strong

-But he got no combat knowledge

-Falls in love FAST

-Is good at guessing

-Gets spooked easily

-He collects useless stuff like: shells, rocks, leaves and blossoms

-Elliott is resentful, he'll never forgive you for divorcing or cheating, but he'll cry about it for a looooooong time

-Writes love letters and poems, that he wishes to someday he can share with his future spouse

marriage

-When it's a slow, lazy day on the farm, Elliott would just wear a tshirt and sweatpants, when he knows he won't go outside today

-Elliott only shows that side of comfort to his spouse. He'll never walk outside not wearing his signature formal wear, because he likes people to believe that he always dresses that good.

-Doesn't want to stay in a dirty place for too long, that's why he likes to clean the farm house

-Is always paranoid when his spouse comes home too late (even if it's only 5 minutes)

-Preferres gardening work over farming work

-Elliott jobs will be: planting plants, takes care of the greenhouse, laws the lawn, waters everything and remove weed

-Actually took his piano with in the farm house. (would be cool if the piano would be in his farm room or at least a furniture item that you get when marrying Elliot)

-When his spouse is home and tense, he'll give them a massage, draw them a bath or just be there for them

-Elliott will "force" his spouse to take a day off, to just relax and spend some time together

-Will agree on being a house husband

-Now that Elliott has access to a kitchen, he'll try some dish combinations

-Elliott only cooks when his spouse isn't home, so that they can't see the mess Elliott is going to make in the kitchen

-If his spouse is pregnant, he'll take over the farm and other activities for them, so that they have no stress

-Will speand his own money on giving gifts to his spouse or child(ren)

-His spouse may wake up with Elliott's hair on their face

-Elliott needed to get used to sleep in bed with someone, so in the early states, he would take over the whole bed on accident

-Usually calls his spouse: love, dear, honey, sweetheart, sweetie and darling. If the name allowds it, he also gives them a nickname

-If he finds his spouse passed out (and isn't hurt), he carries them all the way home

-If his spouse has long hair, he likes to play with it

-Secretly watches his spouse from afar if they work on the farm

-Puts his relationship experiences into his novel

-He keeps a picture of his spouse (and children) in his wallet

-Elliott always wears the mermaid pendant, it doesn't matter when or where

-Give's his spouse a good night kiss, if they fall asleep before him

-Man loves to cuddle

-Likes to rest his head on his spouse's chest

-When he's in the town, he wears the mermaid pendant and a wedding ring, to show off and let everyone know that he belongs to a wonderful person

NSFW version

[mynameismckenziemae]

A Little Bit Stronger

Part 7

(previous part here, next part here)

Bradley ‘Rooster’ Bradshaw x OFC

Summary: Bradley is happy to let you try something you’ve always to do. You and Bradley help Jake surprise Reese.

Just like everything else I write/post: this story is for 18+ only. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. It will contain smut, adult themes, situations and language. Please also note this story may be triggering due to the topic of domestic abuse (physical, emotional, sexual) violence-feel free to message me with any questions before reading.

Warnings: Smut, oral (m receiving, mentions of f receiving), a whole lotta fluff, talks of being blindfolded, etc.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

There’s a pleasant ache between your thighs, soft snores in your ear, and a hardness pressing against your ass when you slowly open your eyes to the early morning sun just starting to come through the windows. The two of you had finally succumbed to sleep a few hours earlier, exhausted from the pleasure you’d wrung from each other.

There had been more passion, more emotion, more feeling in one night of lovemaking with Bradley than in all the years you’d been married.

A smile tugs at your lips when Bradley’s snoring pauses to pull you in closer. Arousal races down your spine and between your thighs when you feel his boxer-clad morning wood against your bare bottom from where his shirt you stole to let Hank out rode up during the night.

“I can’t think of a better way to wake up than with you in my arms,” he murmurs against your neck, his gravely morning voice making you shiver.

“No?” You gasp as he gently sucks on the side of your throat, releasing you before it leaves a lingering mark, “I can think of something.”

“What’s that?” He hums, smiling as you turn to face him.

“Can I try…” you trail off, feeling suddenly shy.

“Anything,” Bradley finishes for you, “anything you want, Shae.”

There’s so much adoration and trust in his gaze, that it has you blinking back tears.

“Okay,” you whisper, gently pushing him onto his back.

“I like it already,” he smirks, but it falls at your wince when you straddle him, “what’s wrong?”

“Just a little sore,” you lean down for a kiss.

“Sorry,” he murmurs with the cutest frown when you pull back.

“I’m not complaining,” you assure him with a small smile before kissing the scar on his jaw down to the one on his neck.

“This okay?” You ask, running a fingertip over his nipple.

“Ye-yeah,” his breath catches when you pinch lightly, just like he did the night before, “I like it.”

“What about this?” You whisper before ducking your head and flicking your tongue over one while teasing the other with your fingers. He gasps when your lips close around it and suck.

“It’s good,” he groans, cock twitching eagerly at your ministrations, precum staining the front of his boxer-briefs. “Fuck, Shae. That-ah! That’s good too,” he pants when you add your teeth, nipping gently.

You smile against his skin before switching sides to see what further reactions you can elicit.

It’s not long before you’re soaked and grinding against his thigh for friction at the sounds you’re pulling from him.

His hands slide into your hair as he grows desperate, more as an anchor than to persuade as you explore his body. Eventually, you continue south, pressing wet kisses to his heaving chest and stomach.

“I love these,” you breathe as you come across the V-shaped muscles low on his stomach, flushing at Bradley’s chuckle when you realize you’ve said it out loud. It turns into a wheeze when you suck a bruise right above the waistband of his underwear before pulling them down.

Your mouth waters at his cock just inches from your face, and the need to taste him far outweighs any nervousness.

“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to,” Bradley reminds you, brushing your hair out of your eyes.

“I want to,” you whisper, refusing to give into the urge to look away as you slowly lick up his shaft, reveling in the way he shutters. “Tell me what you like,” you continue, licking down the other side, “I want it to be good for you.”

“Oh God, it already is,” his head drops to the pillow, hands fisting the sheets as you lap at the beading precum before sucking gently on the head, moaning at the salty-bitter taste.

“Yeah,” he breathes, cheeks ruddy, eyes falling shut when you slowly bob your head, getting used to the weight of him on your tongue. “That’s it, just like that.”

His hands find your hair again when you take him as far into your mouth as you can without gagging. He inhales sharply while his thighs tremble as he fights the need to thrust into your mouth when you swallow. You moan and repeat the action when you’re rewarded with another burst of precum.

Your hand replaces your mouth when you pull off to catch your breath, stroking him like you did the night before. “Will you cum in my mouth?”

His hips thrust up into your fist, eyes wild as they fly open to meet yours, “Wh-you want me to?”

You nod before lowering your head again, using your hand to pump him in time with your mouth.

“I-I’m getting close,” he warns as his hands gather your hair into a loose ponytail to watch, “it’s okay if you change your mind,” his tone grows desperate as he babbles, “and-and you don’t have to swallow, spitting-whatever you want is f-fuckkkk!”

You whimper at his drawn-out groan while your neglected pussy clenches as he cums in your mouth.

He slowly opens his eyes to meet yours, inhaling shakily when you swallow. “Come here,” he rasps, pulling you up his body.

You squeak as he kisses you, surprised he wants to kiss you after…that. But you melt at the first swipe of his tongue against yours.

The world spins as he flips you onto your back before sliding down your body and settling between your thighs.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

The rest of the day is spent in his bed, as well as every other moment the two of you get alone over the next week. When you are apart, you can’t get your mind off of him either.

Reese notices, laughing at the way you flush when she has to repeat herself more than once at work.

The weekend is here again before you know it.

“You got the goods little Kernsie?” Bradley asks on Saturday as Drew climbs into the backseat of the Bronco while you fail to suppress your yawn.

Bradley had kept you awake until the wee hours of the night, and you loved every minute.

You wave to Reese and Jake standing on the porch as Bradley drives off. Jake’s smile is forced, obviously nervous for what’s to come.

“Yeah,” Drew’s practically vibrating with excitement as he hands you the small ring box. “Here Shae, will you hold it until we get there? I don’t want to lose it.”

“Course,” you smile, “are you excited?”

“Yeah,” Drew grins, “Jake’s the best. Do you think I’ll have to give a speech at the wedding? ‘Cause I don’t know if I want to talk in front of that many people. Will I stand on Jake’s side or Mom’s? I’ve never been to a wedding so I don’t know how any of this works.”

You smile and Bradley chuckles as he reaches absentmindedly for your hand on the console.

“I’m sure your mom won’t make-“ Bradley starts.

“Roo! Are you boyfriend and girlfriend now?!” Drew interrupts excitedly, noticing your intertwined fingers.

Bradley gives you an apologetic look but before he can reply, you do.

“Yeah,” you smile at Drew as you squeeze Bradley’s hand, “we are.”

“Yes!” Drew exclaims before smacking Bradley’s shoulder, “I told you she liked you back!”

You laugh when Bradley’s cheeks turn red as he shakes his head.

“This is the best day ever!” Drew sighs with the biggest grin, “Unless my mom says no. She won’t, right?”

“I’m sure she’ll say ye-“

“Yeah, she’ll say yes,” he agrees before Bradley can finish. “Wait, Shae! Does this make you my aunt?” Drew asks, his brow furrowing adorably, “Or do you have to be married for that?”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“There!” Drew says excitedly an hour later, “That’s gotta be it! Jake said it’s the field with the yellow flowers.”

“I think you’re right Little Kernsie,” Bradley agrees as he slows the Bronco.

Rows upon rows of yellow daffodils line the field, pretty and bright even with the overcast skies.

“Wow,” you murmur as he parks out of sight, “it’s beautiful.”

“It is,” Bradley agrees, leaning over for a kiss once Drew gets out, “doesn’t compare to you though.”

“Thank you,” you murmur against his lips.

“Come on guys! You gotta see this!” Drew shouts from outside.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Bradley and Drew race down the rows while waiting for Jake and Reese to arrive. You trail behind, smiling at Drew’s peals of laughter as your mind wanders to thoughts of Bradley proposing, getting married, and maybe having his children someday.

The thought makes you pause, realizing this is the first time in years that the thought of having a baby doesn’t fill you with dread.

“What’s up?” Bradley asks breathlessly as he runs back, Drew thrown over his shoulder. He giggles as Bradley sets him down before taking off again.

“I love you,” you whisper, cupping his jaw before capturing his lips in a tender kiss.

“I love you too,” Bradley smiles as he pulls back when his phone pings. He turns to Drew when he checks it. “They’re almost here, we should be able to stay hidden over by that tree there until Jake’s ready for you.”

“Okay!” Drew agrees before running that way.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

Drew giggles when he sees a blindfolded Reese get out of the truck with Jake’s help.

Once he gets her to the middle of the field and gives Drew a thumbs up, you press the record button on your phone while Drew creeps out of hiding as Jake slips off the blindfold.

Surprise flashes over her face before she bursts into tears. “Oh, Jake.”

There’s no holding back your own tears as Jake starts crying too, murmuring something in her ear for a moment before he gets down on one knee, just as Drew approaches them from behind.

Reese laughs in delight when Drew slips past her to hand Jake the ring, and she nods eagerly before he can even ask.

The sun has been elusive all day, but shines through a hole in the clouds when Jake slips the ring on her finger; a sunbeam highlighting the 3 of them as they embrace.

“I knew he’d make an appearance,” Bradley whispers thickly, yet there’s a smile in his voice.

Your heart pinches in your chest when you lower your phone and see the tears steadily flowing from his eyes.

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

“You knew and didn’t tell me?!” Reese laughs as she pulls you in for a hug.

“Not only did she know, she came with me to approve the ring I chose,” Jake smiles, hugging you next, “thanks again, Shae,” he whispers, giving you a squeeze before he releases you.

“‘Of course,” you murmur.

“God, you’re good,” Reese shakes her head, “I had no idea. We even talked about it last weekend!”

“I’m glad,” you reply, “I would’ve felt terrible if you would’ve suspected anything.”

“I didn’t until he had me put the blindfold on in the truck. I figured he was either going to propose,” she pauses to look for Drew, making sure he can’t hear, “or things were about to get kinky. Though Jake’s usually the one getting blindfolded…”

“Jesus Reese,” Bradley cringes, making you laugh while color rises to Jake’s cheeks.

“Alright alright,” Jake shakes his head, blushing furiously as he grabs her hand before turning to find Drew, “that’s enough outta you.”

“Might be fun,” you whisper to Bradley as you follow them to the vehicles before you chicken out.

“What’s that?” Bradley asks.

“Using a blindfold,” you reply, looking down when you start to second guess it, “maybe? We don’t have to either, I just thought it might be fun. If you’d want to…too.”

He stops walking and raises your chin to look at him.

Your breath catches at the heat in his eyes.

“Oh, I want to.”

•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•.•

A/N: Eeeeeeeeeeeeeek! Jake and Reese are engaged 🥹 Shae’s getting bolder too. 😏 Let me know what you think! Also…who’s going to be the one getting blindfolded?

As always, any interaction is appreciated but I LOVE hearing what you think in the comments/reblogs! Seriously, feedback helps me more than anything.

Tagging:

@lexixstewart

@dizzybee03

@its-the-pilot

@hookslove1592

@hisredheadedgoddess28

@atarmychick007

@littlezee80

@k-k0129

@phoenix-rising-starbird-one

@jessicab1991

@djs8891

@lonelysoul50

@mrsevans90

@landpiranha-blog

@bellaireland1981

@shanimallina87

@writtingrose

@fandomology101

@amiets2

@psuedochakra

@lyn-js

@averagereader35

@emma8895eb

@midnightmagpiemama

@blindedbythelightt

@whitewolfsbitch

@that-daughter-of-hephaestus

@sbdunksblog

@glowingtree

@thelightnddarkness

@seitmai

@skathanstewart

@els-marvelvsp

[rottindecay]

Hobie Brown Headcannons!

just some silly stuff ! >__<

warnings: i believe none.

[this is my first time ever posting smth like this..hopefully it’s good enough.]

*Reblogs, notes n comments r much appreciated >O<!*

Starting off strong- this man definitely craves physical touch. Like have you SEEN him with the anarch-kids?

He cant live with out ur touch like seriously, it would drive this man insane.

You love your personal space? He loves yours too.

Especially out in public. This guy will have a finger around one of your belt loops/belt, holding onto your bag or hand, even has his arm snaked around your waist or shoulder. He needs your touch!!

he loves to cuddle. More of a big spoon kinda guy because he finds it funny how his body just completely takes over yours, ykwim? (If ur shorter than him ofc)

but won’t mind being little spoon fr. Loves to have his head laying on your chest as you guys sleep in each others arms.

Speaking of sleeping- he’s a really heavy sleeper.

when he sleeps he’s sprawled all over the bed so good luck trying to wake him up to give you room.

When you do try to move him, he dosent move or make room for you LMAO

he just groans before pulling you into his embrace and resting his chin on your head fast asleep with his arm around your waist.

He’s an ass lover.

Wearing shorts around the house? He’s telling you you look good in them. Bending over to pick something up? He’s playfully slapping ur ass and snickering as he does so.

Like- if your on youre phone or reading a book or whatever and your laying on your stomach, he’s gunna come over and lay his head on ur ass like a pillow and take a nap or do smth on his phone.

Same with thighs fr

When you guys are out walking around or doing something and you have back pockets, expect his hand in your pocket.

Because he could keep you close and get to feel your ass. Win win in his book!

He loves ur ass!!!!!!

He adores little trinkets.

He has them all over his house

Like the first time you walked into his house, you just saw a lot of bowls laying around in places like in his room, kitchen, living room ext with just small little knickknacks he found or bought (stole)

Loves to receive and gift them to people hes close with.

He’s like a crow honestly.

90% of the time when you guys are hugging, he would go limp out of nowhere and now here you are trying to hold up a 6’5 180 lbs guy as he’s chuckling his ass off.

Puts his arm on your shoulder or head like an armrest.

Never calls u by ur first name. always has some nickname for you like “darling” (since he’s a Brit n all) or a nickname that connects to an embarrassing moment of urs LMFAO

He’s stupidly smart but dosent put effort in it ykwim?

Same goes for cleaning like yeah he could clean it, but why would he? He knows where everything is so it’s fine.

Also loves to hug u from behind and burry his face into your neck.

Also neck kissed Are his favorite thing like cmon now.

Honestly dosent care What pronoun you use. You could call him ball/ballself and he would look over at you without batting an eye to that.

Knows how to sing, just dosent do it. But if u ask nicely he would as he strums his guitar professionally!

He snores and drools everytime he sleeps.

Also luvs to do and wash ur hair for u.

Hobie has ADHD idc argue with the wall.

If ur ever doing chores around the house he’s 100% always going to help you with whatever your doing even if it’s something as simple as sweeping the floors. He dosent want you to think your juggling to many responsibilities.

Typa guy to know a guy. He knows a lot of people.

All his fingers are decorated with rings. Once you guys start to actually get serious he would give you one of his favorite rings since he dosent believe in marriage.

It’s nothing too big though, it’s just a simple silver band that’s obviously been shown some love throughout the years.

Dosent really label your guys relationship. Why would he need to box you in like that? It’s stupid. He knows he can trust you and you can trust him so there’s no need to be calling each other “boyfriend” and “girlfriend”

Makes playlists for you and burns them into CD’s

We all know he’s alr stupidly smart, yeah? Well he was the kinda kid to always be sleeping in class, not do any work and fail it even though he was the smartest mf there.

Also hated to do homework so he didn’t do it. Who was gunna stop him? NOBODY.

Also sucks at spelling tbh

Like he dosent care abt it. “Apple” is now “aple.”

Loves to DIY stuff like clothes, pins, patches, jewelry n much more!

He’s punk so he obviously listens to punk music, but he also listens to more than that. He hates consistency !!

I think he would be a really good cook he just won’t put effort in exploring that part of him LMAO

he obviously has really good sense of style. I think a lot of people forget he was FORMALLY A RUNWAY MODEL. HELLOOOO???

So if he sees shitty quality clothes, hes gunna point it out to you and suggest something else.

When being taken out on dates he dosent really do anything fancy, not his style yk?

But he does take you out on the most amazing places only a few know.

Shows you the coolest pubs hidden in alleyways, site seeing, walking around London in his dimension and just little fun activities.

(maybe even steal from big corporations too.)

[whatsnewalycat]

Psychomanteum / Chapter 17

Pairing: Dieter Bravo x OFC Louella (2nd POV)

Chapter 17: I'll Be Your Mirror

Chapter Summary: Fin.

Word Count: 6.0k+

Content / Warnings: listen if you made it this far you know what it is

Notes: Chapter title from “I'll Be Your Mirror" by Nico and The Velvet Underground. Ok I know I said there would be an Epilogue, but I decided... I really love it as is. This story is my baby and the feeling of finishing it is so bittersweet. Thank you to everyone who has ever given me the encouragement to feel this story is special. There are so many of you, I don't even know where to start. You know who you are.

[ Previous Chapter ] [ Series Masterlist ]

“Dee?”

He looks up from the notebook in his hand and goes still. 

To say that your heart skips a beat when he meets your gaze is an understatement. 

It freezes, along with everything else in the universe. You can’t move. You can’t breathe. You’re almost certain the Earth stops turning. 

Is he angry? Relieved? Shocked? 

You can’t tell. 

But then his tensed muscles go slack. His hunched shoulders drop from his ears. Glossy, pained eyes melting wide into wonderment. 

“Lua?” 

Hearing your name on his lips makes your stomach flip into free fall. Your pulse jumps. A sound escapes your chest that’s halfway between a sob and a laugh.

He drops the notebook and strides towards you.

You can only take one step forward before he’s pushing your back to the door, lips pressed against yours. His hands slip around your waist and pull your body flush to his while you comb your fingers through his hair. He groans into your mouth, tongue rolling soft on yours as you whine at how fucking perfect it feels. 

Unzipping your jacket, Dieter pulls back and rasps hot against your cheek, “I’m so glad you’re ok, I thought I fucking lost you.” 

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, pressing your foreheads together as he strips off your jacket, “It was stupid, I shouldn’t have left like that—”

“Later,” he murmurs, shrugging off his fuzzy coat, then brings his mouth to your pulse and sucks the thin skin so hard you gasp, gripping his broad shoulders to bring him closer. 

His hands slip under your shirt—his shirt, actually, you stole it from a laundry basket before leaving his house—and he slides his heated palms against your bare skin. With a chuckle, he looks down at the garment and says, “You little thief.” 

You bite your lip and shrug, flicking your eyes around his face. 

“God, I missed you,” he grins, dimples and all.

“I missed you, too.”

Both your faces fade from amusement to something heavier as you study each other. Heat flickers at the middle of you when he brushes the back of his hand against your cheek. Your gaze dips to his mouth when he murmurs, “Don’t you dare leave me again.”

“I won’t—”

“Please.”

“I promise I won’t.” 

You meet his eyes so he can see how much you mean it, stroking the soft whiskers on his jawline with your thumb, “I love you, Dieter. I love you so fucking much.” 

His warm gaze flicks all over your face, “I love you, too.” 

Your throat thickens. You try to swallow down the discomfort before asking, “Are you mad?” 

“Mad?” 

You nod.

“No,” he scoffs, gently taking your hand to kiss each of your fingertips. 

It’s reverent, the way he does this. Worshipful. Like he’s thanking every piece of you for existing. 

He clears his throat. Pain creases his forehead, making his dark eyes go all gooey soft when he whispers, “I was so scared. I didn’t know if I’d find you dead or alive.”

It hits you hard. Right in the heart. 

You let out a guilty squeak. Your face crumbles. Tears cloud your vision, distorting him. You draw a shattered breath before responding. 

“I was going to do it. I was going to, umm,” you avert your eyes and shake your head, “I was gonna drown myself, Dee. I had everything ready, but… I couldn’t.”

A sob bursts from your belly. 

His body tenses and he pulls back ever so slightly, as if he were seconds away from calling off the conversation. But you stay firmly planted. You link your hands behind his neck and meet his tear-brimmed eyes with your own. When you speak, your voice trembles with honesty. 

“I thought that I was supposed to die. That my being here was a mistake, or like I was cursed or something. Destined to destroy your life if I stayed in it. I didn’t want to do that to you. But also,” you swallow hard and search his face, “I didn’t know if I could trust you not to break me like he did. I didn’t know if I could trust myself not to break you, either. I was so afraid… of everything. Of all the possibilities. Of not knowing what would happen.” 

The way he looks at you—shoulders slumped, jaw set, eyes all dewy with sorrow—it’s fucking torture. But you continue. 

“I was so afraid of everything… except dying. Dying felt like the best option.” 

Dieter sobs. It crushes your ribcage to dust. You have to keep going, though. You need him to understand that you mean this. 

“But I realized—just now, before you got here, like,” you laugh with bemusement and shake your head, “Immediately before you got here, your timing is truly blowing my fucking mind right now—”

He chuckles and wipes at his damp face. You smile, tilting your head at him. 

“I realized that… I was being a fucking coward. You’re not Ethan and I’m not Anika, and you and I… we’re something different. Dee, our love feels big the way the universe feels big. It’s never-ending and always growing and it is fucking forever. To turn my back on something like that would be… well, it would be fucking blasphemy.”

He smiles back at you, grip digging into your waist to bring you closer. 

You cup his cheeks and tell him, “There will be good days and bad, but I know that I will never regret choosing to stay.”

He stares at you with so much love and awe your chest aches. You can’t stop yourself from beaming at him. 

“No matter what the future has in store for us, I know that it will be worth spending every second I can with you in this beautiful, painful, amazing life.” 

His smile widens and he shakes his head, choking out, “Fuck, how do I follow that up?” 

You laugh, this soggy, wet laugh and bury your face in his shirt, then mumble against his chest, “You don’t have to, love, I just needed to tell you.” 

“Thank you,” he murmurs, wrapping his arms around you. 

“For what?”

“For staying. For sharing with me, trusting in me—trusting in us. Without you… I don’t know. Everything is fucking stupid and meaningless. You make me a better me. And I need you. So. Thank you.” 

Your heart swells. 

“You make me a better me, too.” 

He pulls back to look at you, the warmth of his gaze sticking all over your face. Heat glints behind his eyes when they drop to your mouth. 

Something profound throbs between you. Newborn with shaky legs, taking its first breath. Intentional, fearless certainty. 

You kiss him, hard and purposeful, and he responds with fervor, the tips of his fingers digging into the tender skin of your waist. His tongue slides soft and wet and hot against yours, a slick writhing that hypnotizes you. Between the gentle crush of lips and nips from teeth and quiet whimpers that echo back and forth, you get lost in him. 

Time and space slip away and this kiss becomes the only thing you long to feel.

Dieter pushes your back flush to the cool door, warm hands exploring the tender skin beneath your shirt. His shirt. His skin. 

His his his—

He cups your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples. The tedious touch sends a rush of need through your body. Whining into his mouth, you slide your nails down the expanse of his back, beckoning him closer, wordlessly begging for more. 

Of course, he gives it to you. 

Of course he pinches your nipples so hard you gasp, then tugs even harder. 

Of course he activates something primal deep within your brain, making you hiss, “Fuck yes.” 

“Does that feel good, baby? Hmm?”

“Yes—”

“Good,” he husks.

One hand unclamps. It slips under the waistband of your pants and slides down between your thighs, down to the hot, slick middle of you, where it rubs all those attention-starved nerves and makes them fucking purr. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. 

“Mmmm, how about that?” 

“So fucking good, Dee,” you moan, nodding your head in vehement approval as you arch your hips towards him, “Oh my god, yes.” 

Pulsing heat creeps up your spine, making your mouth go slack and lids drift closed. 

“Look at me.” 

Your eyes snap open to meet his. He searches your face with intensity, watching you twist up with pleasure, and drops his gaze to your lips when your panting becomes tainted with whimpers. 

“You’re so fucking hot I can’t stand it,” he mutters, shaking his head, “God, I wanna fuck you.” 

“Oh my god, please—”

“You want me to fuck you?” He releases his tight grip on your tit to stroke your cheek, his low voice almost a growl, “Hmm? Want me to fill your tight pussy?” 

“Yes—”

“Yeah?”

“Yes yes yes please, I wanna feel your cock inside me, Dieter I fucking need it please—”

“I want you to come for me first,” he works you faster, pressing his forehead against yours as he coos, “Can you do that for me, baby? Come all over my fucking hand?”

His request gushes hot down your spine. You gasp and nod frantically, then choke out a throaty moan as heat starts to branch out inside you. Your heart pounds hard and fast in your chest, white-hot need overflowing your veins and pooling thick between your legs, pulsing and growing, stronger, wider, pushing you up up up up—

It overtakes you. Rips you into a million pieces and puts you back together again. 

Your legs clamp shut. You twitch and whimper and gasp as his touch softens and slows. 

It doesn’t stop entirely, though. 

Just a gentle, languid back and forth that persists through ebbing aftershocks, assuring you he’s not done with you yet. 

Dieter rests his forehead against yours, breath warm on your parted lips when he says, “You’re fucking amazing, you know that?”

You let out a dreamy chuckle, hooking your hands behind his neck.

And, fuck, his fingers feel so good. Sliding up and down, spreading your slick in a gentle manner, teasing but patient. So fucking patient. 

“I mean it. You are… amazing. I love every single thing about you.” 

He dips a thick fingertip in your entrance, sending a heady rush of need through your body, then drags it out to draw slow circles around your clit. His touch prods the glowing embers in your belly. They smolder beneath your skin and make your heart race. 

“Oh my god, Dee—”

“Even the parts you don’t think I want. I want it all, Lua. Forever. I never want to wake up without you by my side again.”

“I’m yours,” you breathe, “Forever and ever until I’m nothing, Dee, I’m fucking yours—”

His lips crush into yours. You moan into his mouth, accepting the warm caress of his tongue, urgent against yours. Between your thighs, he rocks his hand against you hard, then slips a digit inside you. 

Head rolling back onto your shoulders, you gasp, “Jesus fuck.”

“So fucking ready for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” he laughs, delirious and breathy, then takes a step back, removing himself from your body completely. 

The loss sends you reeling. Like a puppy, you glob onto him, not wanting to part from him for a second. 

Regarding your desperation with a smirk, he takes your hand, “Come on.” 

You follow along behind him, grinning at the way he carries himself with authority, striding through the cabin like this has been his residence for the past few days, not yours. 

When you cross the threshold into a bedroom, he turns to ask, “This one ok?”

Nodding, you push him back towards the bed and tug at his clothes, a silent plea he quickly grants. You mirror his actions, stripping down to nothing as he sits down on the edge of the bed and stares up at you, all fuck-me-eyes and parted lips. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” you coo, slotting yourself between his knees, combing your nails through his hair, “Looking up at me with those puppy dog eyes. I love it.” 

His eyelids flutter and his cock twitches. A little bead of pre-cum sprouts up at the tip. 

You lick your lips and smirk, wrapping your hand around his girth, gasping when you smear the swollen droplet with the pad of your thumb. 

Dieter groans, grabbing your waist. He twitches again. 

You pull back his foreskin, forming an ‘o’ with your mouth when more of the viscous liquid slips against your thumb. 

You think about how it might taste, salty and hot on your tongue. You think about his hard, smooth length stretching out your lips, soaking wet with drool as he fucks your face. 

“If you keep looking at it like that I’m gonna blow my fucking load,” he mutters, burying his face between your breasts. 

When you respond by churning your grip, a moan vibrates against your sternum. As if he can’t help himself, Dieter slides his hands up your body and grabs your tits. 

He takes one in his mouth, then the other, sucking and licking and biting your swollen nipples while you work him, slow and meticulous. His muffled whines stoke your desire, flames hot and tingling up your spine. 

Looking up at you with big doe eyes, he flattens his tongue against your nipple, then moves his head from side-to-side. 

“That feels fucking amazing, Dee, oh my god,” you pant, drawing your brows together as you nod in approval at the heated sensation that clings to your bones. 

Arousal urges you to pump him faster, and when you do, he husks, “Fuck, Lua—”

“Hmm?”

“Please.”

The tips of his fingers dig into your waist and he scoots further back onto the bed, ushering you onto his lap, “Wanna feel that sweet pussy wrapped around me, please, baby, please.”

Your knees settle on either side of his hips and you fold forward, smoothing your hands up his broad chest, to his neck, then you cup his cheeks. He searches your face, wild-eyed and desperate. 

“I love seeing you like this,” you purr, brushing your thumb against his bottom lip, “So fucking needy.”

He groans and his hips jerk, the tip of him nudging up against your entrance. You tease him with it, letting him feel how hot and wet you are without allowing access. 

“Do you want my pussy, baby? Or do you need it?”

“I need it,” he rasps, the tendons in his neck going taut he grips your hips with bruising strength, “I’ll fucking die if I don’t feel it, I swear to god, please—”

You lower yourself down slowly, whimpering at the exquisite stretch that reverberates through you. 

His back arches off the mattress and he groans, “Fffffuck yes. Holy fucking shit, Lua—”

“So fucking good, oh my god,” you croak, rolling your hips.  

You take him slow at first, savoring the way he fills you so perfectly, how he rubs along every tingling nerve inside you. Beneath you, Dieter pants and writhes, devout hands roaming your humid skin, worshiping you.

“Jesus fucking Christ, I love you,” he pants, thrusting up into you so hard and deep you moan. He lets out a gasping chuckle, then drives his hips up again, and again, and again.

You nod in approval. Thick static bubbles at your center. You press your forehead against his, pushing back against his thrusts as they establish a steady rhythm. 

“Wanna spend the rest of my life with you.” 

“Wanna spend—fuck,” you whimper, nodding again, “Wanna the rest of my life with you.” 

“Wanna marry you, make you my wife—”

Still nodding, you choke out, “Yes, oh my fucking god yes—”

“Would you like that? Hmm? Get you a pretty dress and a ring? Show the whole world that I’m yours and you’re mine?”

“I want it, Dee, I do. I’m yours I’m yours I’m yours—“

He captures your lips and pounds into you, hard and fast, exchanging moans with you like vows, vibrating on your tongue as the tingling heat in your belly stretches wider, climbing up your body, swelling and swelling, pulling your muscles tight, until you find yourself suspended in a moment you both never want to end and don’t think you can stand any longer. 

Then, it bursts. 

You sob when the wave of pleasure washes over and under you, making this sick wet sucking noise as your whole body convulses around him. 

Dieter whines against your mouth, fucking up into your fluttering cunt with crazed, frantic thrusts. He goes rigid and silent for a second, then releases a guttural noise from his chest. 

When his breath returns to him and his muscles start to slacken, you meet his eyes with a grin that spreads to his lips. 

You kiss him, slow and deep, then go limp on his chest, “I love you.” 

“I love you.”

The two of you stay here for a while, content and rubber-limbed. His fingertips trace the scar tissue on your shoulder and arm while sand gathers heavy on your eyelids. 

“I haven’t been able to sleep,” you mumble into the damp crook of his neck, “Not sober, at least. Now you’re here and we have so much to talk about.” You yawn, “And I’m so tired.”  

He kisses the crown of your head, then gently persuades you to roll off him onto the mattress. Like a sleepy child, helplessly lethargic and too engrossed in comfort to do it yourself, you let him pull the bedspread out from beneath you and tuck you between the sheets. 

The warmth of his skin presses up against yours as he drapes an arm over your belly and tugs you close. When he speaks, his breath is warm on your cheek, voice low and quiet. 

“Get some rest, love. We can talk more tomorrow.” 

His offer is tempting, but one question nags at the back of your brain and gives you a small burst of energy. 

You roll onto towards him, blinking your weighted eyes open to meet his, all gooey and soft as they search your face. 

“Did you mean it?” 

A mischievous smirk plays on his lips, “What, that I wanna marry you?” 

You nod. 

“Yeah,” he grins and grabs your hand to kiss your palm, then holds it to his cheek, “What about you? Did you mean it? Do you wanna marry me?”

For some reason, your cheeks get hot and you laugh. The noise is water-logged, struggling against the tears that burn up your throat and blur your vision.

“Yeah, I really fucking do.” 

These aren’t the kinds of tears you’re used to crying. They’re celebratory. Joyous. You find yourself unable to stop smiling through them. 

“This is crazy,” you tell him, shaking your head, “I love you so much it’s fucking crazy.” 

“I love you,” he smiles and brings your hand to his chest, pressing your palm against the thump-thump of life and light and love, “Do you feel that?”

“Your heart?”

He nods, “That’s yours. ‘Til my last breath, then after. It’s yours.” 

—

Dieter listens to the peaceful dozing huffs that blow hot across his chest, cherishing each and every one. 

He savors the heat of your body on his, the blood pumping through your veins, and the flutter of REM behind your closed eyelids. Proof that you are here, alive and safe in his arms. An answer to his desperate prayers. 

Something like relief but bigger engulfs him. 

Warmth tingles through his limbs and tears sting behind his eyes. His throat gets all thick with emotion as he pulls your pliant body closer, pressing a kiss against your forehead. 

Careful not to be too loud, he whispers, “Thank you.” 

He’s not sure who he’s thanking. You or fate or whatever omnipresent puppeteer pulls the strings behind the scenes. He just knows he means it with his whole heart. 

Dieter lays here for some time, live-wired with optimism, thinking up a million ways to convey the intensity of his gratitude. His mind wanders into tomorrow and buzzes with anticipation. He gets to tell you about his impromptu trip to New York, and that your charges are dropped. 

Goosebumps prick his skin as a realization dawns on him. 

You don’t even know. 

When deciding to stay, you factored in the consequences of these charges. Your devotion to him was not because of this resolution, but in spite of it. 

You had every single reason to doubt this would work. Probable prison time. Shrapnel from the fame machine. Ongoing recovery. The ugly demise of his marriage. The tragic end to yours.

Fuck, it’s a shit show. 

And yet, here you are. 

He gazes down at you, far away in dreamland, cheek pressed against the rise and fall of his chest. All angel-faced, but with a little drool at the corner of your mouth. Fucking beautiful. 

On one hand, he could stay here watching you sleep like a fucking stalker for hours. On the other, his stomach growls for attention. 

When he contemplates whether or not to untangle himself from you and tend to this need, you let out a little grumble, then start wiggling around, rolling away from him. He misses the heat of your body as soon as it’s gone, but lets you go anyway. 

He carefully gets out of bed and wanders through the dark cabin into the kitchen. 

The cupboards are essentially barren, which is both disappointing and unsurprising, but he finds some bread and drops a couple slices into the toaster. While guzzling down a tall glass of iron-flavored water, he notices piles of towels and blankets stacked on the kitchen counter. This piques his curiosity. 

To put it lightly, you are an incredibly neat and tidy person. Normally you wouldn’t allow this kind of disorder in your living space, however temporary. He should know. Last week you pulled the clothes out of his dresser and gave him a tutorial on how to fold “the right way” before organizing the acrylic paints in his studio by hue. 

Your need for order only increases when you’re distressed, which you definitely were, so… what the fuck is up with this? 

When he rounds the countertop peninsula to investigate, something catches his eye. Big slabs of wood propped up next to a door in the hallway. The door sits ajar, the crack emitting a warm golden glow. 

His footsteps creak across the wooden floor as he approaches it. Somehow he knows what he’ll find when he opens the door, and releases an amused chuckle when his suspicions are confirmed. 

Dark fabric draping the walls. A dimmed-down lantern propped up behind a makeshift seat. The seat, a makeshift nest of pillows and blankets, faces a mirror. 

You built a psychomanteum. 

Something tugs at his memory, causing him to turn on his heel and walk towards the couch. He picks up the notebook he discarded when you walked through the door and revealed yourself. 

He studies the page in abstract, catching little glimpses here and there. Words like unrecognizable and hopeless and monster. Fragments like swerving around traffic, and crying, begging.

Some sentences stand out so much, he can’t help but snag on them. 

It was over, I couldn’t do it anymore.

He called me a bitch. A rat.

It didn’t seem real.

He said we had to do this together.

Far away, the toaster pops. He’s not even hungry anymore. In fact, quite the opposite. He feels fucking sick. 

A smattering of circles distort in the paper, black ink bleeding out from your script as if diffused by tiny droplets of moisture. Probably tears. 

Grotesque curiosity churns beneath his skin. 

He swallows around his thick throat and looks up at the closet. The psychomanteum. 

The first time he tried to read the passage, before he knew you were ok, he was in such a state of panic that he didn’t fully understand what it was. But he understands now. He sees the pieces and how they fit together. 

His stomach twists when he recognizes the pattern laid out before him. His ribcage shrinks two sizes, pushing his pulse to his ears. He runs a hand through his hair and wrings his tight neck as he realizes with horror that he has been a similar kind of monster. 

He knows he had a problem. And it wasn’t as much the drugs or infidelity as it was the emptiness. An infection that set in early and rotted out a cavity in his chest. In his heart. 

He knows it made him change in unspeakable ways, altering the very nature of his character. It made him angry and reckless and fucking ravenous. Starving for anything that would fill him up, however fleeting. 

He was a fucking beast. 

He also knows you love him. Flaws and all, you love him. You had the grace to forgive every unforgivable mistake he made. 

Could Dieter do the same? 

He tosses the notebook down on the coffee table and walks to the closet, opening the door. As he steps inside, he takes the lantern from behind the seat and turns to face him in the mirror. 

He studies the face, recognizing the distinct nose and dark eyes. Mop of messy brown curls atop his head. He looks tired, but hopeful. 

Staring at his reflection, Dieter tells himself, “I forgive you.” 

—

The first thing you notice when you rouse from sleep is the warmth that surrounds you. 

You feel Dieter’s chest flush to your back, arms wrapped around your middle, face buried in the crook of your neck. Your combined body heat under the covers makes your skin stick together. The steady rhythm of his breathing moves in time with yours. 

Before you even open your eyes, you smile. 

Your fingertips twitch against his arm and you try to wiggle even closer, intertwining your legs with his. 

Behind you, Dieter stirs a little, then mumbles into your neck, “G’morning, doll.” 

“Good morning, love.” 

He takes a deep breath in, squeezing you tight, and exhales a groan, “You smell so fucking good what the fuck.”

“I haven’t bathed in days,” you giggle, reaching back to run your fingers through his hair, “I’m stinky.” 

“Bullshit.” 

“You’re bullshit.” 

He laughs this big, boisterous laugh as he rolls onto his back, separating from you save for the arm pinned under your side. 

You miss his heat immediately and turn over to face him, scooting close enough to feel it. His gaze holds pure adoration. Your fingertips meet his and play this sort of dance before he laces your hands together. 

He asks, “Wanna take a bath then go get some grub?” 

—

Dieter lathers up a washcloth, watching the muscles shift beneath your skin as you rinse the remaining conditioner from your hair with a shower head attachment.

When you turn it off, you glance over your shoulder at him and announce, “I’m probably going to prison.” 

He sits up and presses the steaming washcloth to your back, working suds up the curve of your spine. 

“You’re not going to prison.” 

You relax into his touch and snort, “Oh yeah? How’s that?”

“I took care of it.”

“Wha—wait,” you sit up, then turn around to face him, water sloshing around with you. You furrow your brow and stare at him, “What does that mean?”

“It means the DA dropped the charges against you.” 

Your eyes narrow as you search his face, “Are you fucking with me?”

“I’m dead serious.” 

“How?” 

His tongue clicks against the roof of his mouth as he averts his gaze, shrugging, “Let’s just say that, for plausible deniability reasons, it’s best you don’t know anything else.” 

“You’re fucking with me.”

“I’m not!” he laughs, tugging at your waist. You jokingly wrinkle your nose at his affection, but let him pull you into his lap. 

“C’man, sweetheart. Look at me.” He waits until your eyes meet his, then tells you, “I swear to god I’m not fucking with you. You’re clear. A free woman.” 

Your shoulders fall away from your ears. You clamp down on your huge smile, then it breaks free, “Really?”

The way you light up at this news… It is breathtaking. Jesus fucking Christ. Worth every second of misery. 

“Really,” he smiles, cupping your cheek. 

You try to blink away tears with a relieved burst of laughter. You stare at him, glossy eyes all ripe with admiration as they flick around his face, “Thank you.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he murmurs, holding your gaze, “I’d do anything for you, Louella. You know that?”

Your smile gets bigger somehow. You nod, “I do.”

His stomach flips when he imagines you saying those words in front of that ordained minister he saw in his near-death vision. Little details come into focus. He can taste the salt of the ocean and feel heat from the overhead sun. Light filters through a canopy of sheer white fabric. 

The crowd of onlookers is small. Of course, he sees Parker and Darlene and Lincoln. He sees Glenn, looking like a fucking dick as usual, but grinning nonetheless. He sees his brother’s family, the small children all wriggling around in their chairs. He sees a couple, a man and woman around retirement age, that he doesn’t quite recognize, but he understands that they’re Ethan’s parents. He sees his mother dab her eyes with a tissue while his father curls an arm around her shoulders, letting the faintest smile creep across his lips as he watches you slide a wedding band on Dieter’s ring finger. 

Atop your head sits a band of stars, forged from gold and adorned with dazzling crystals that glimmer in the sunlight. Corona Borealis for his Princess of Crete. Your dress is cream-colored chiffon and lace and fucking perfect. You have on that smile, the one that takes up your whole face. The one you’re wearing now. 

You take the washcloth from him and dunk it under the hot, sudsy water, then bring it to his chest. The smile on your lips lingers as you wash, lathering up his skin with tiny iridescent bubbles. 

“What does Darlene think of all this?” you ask, glancing up at him. 

Smoothing his hands around to the small of your back, he shrugs and pulls your slick body closer, “In a personal sense, supportive. She helped a lot actually. Held down the fort while I was in New York.” 

“While you were—” you scoff, shaking your head with an amused grin, “Dieter, what the fuck have you been up to?” 

“Long story, I’ll tell you on the drive home,” he grins. 

“Fine,” you snort and roll your eyes, but fold forward against his chest. His eyes drift closed as he relaxes into the heat of your body pressed to his. Fingertips sliding against his collarbone, you ask, “So the blowback to your career has been minimal?” 

He gulps when he contemplates how to answer, not wanting to scare you into a spiral that sends you running again. But it is what it is. You’ll find out sooner or later anyway. 

“Not… necessarily. It’s been pretty brutal, actually. Mark and Darlene wanted me to throw you under the bus and move on without you, but I refused. So they dropped me.” 

You prop yourself up and frown at him, “I thought you said Darlene—”

“She was helping me find you, Lua. She’s supportive of our relationship as my friend, but…”

Your eyebrow quirks, “The optics are shit?”

“Yeah,” he chuckles, searching your surprisingly serene face, “It’s ok, though, you know. You were right, I don’t enjoy it anymore. Acting, I mean. I think I’ve been too scared to try anything else, but… I don’t know. I think I’m ready now. I’m ready for the next chapter of my life.” 

“You could try writing,” you offer as you trace his jawline, “I could find a job at a bakery or something. It’ll be ok. We’ll figure it out, I know we will.” 

He nods, “We will.”

“I love you, Dee,” you say, holding his gaze, “We can do fucking anything together.”

Your certainty hits him square in the chest. 

For him, love always cast a dark shadow of fear that warned him to be distant. Not too eager or enthusiastic. Careful not to be fumbled by the wrong hands and wind up broken. 

It doesn’t feel like that anymore, he thinks. 

Your presence in his life has always been big and blinding. The warmth of your love has blistered his skin more times than he can count. He has dedicated hours upon hours of his life this past year trying to understand your magnitude and longevity, trying to measure the shadow that the fear of losing you cast. The dimensions fluctuated in a non-linear sort of way, waxing and waning with the circumstances surrounding your relationship. 

But now? 

You are the sun at high noon. No fucking shadow in sight. 

—

“All set?”

“I think so,” you zip up your suitcase and look up at Dieter as he leans against the doorframe. Your stomach growls and you groan, “If we don’t get food soon—” 

“I found a Denny’s about 30 miles away. Open on Christmas.” 

“Thank fucking god.” 

Dieter chuckles and buries his hands in his coat pockets, “Oh, by the way…”

He pulls out a small, familiar sketchpad and hands it to you. Nostalgia spreads warm across your chest as you open the cover and flip through Ethan’s artwork. Each page depicts dark and painful images that tug at your heart, reminding you of how much he was suffering. 

“How did you—?”

“Part of the long story. Tell you on the way home. But, umm… I figured you should have it.” 

You nod, pausing to study a high-contrast illustration that feels different from the previous pages. At first, it just looks like a collection of bold black triangles. The edges and points are crisp. Precise. But as you stare at it, your perspective shifts. The white paper beneath the black ink starts to stand out bright, then rises above the dark hollows. 

When it comes into focus, you gasp. 

It’s a face. 

It’s your face, carved out from negative space. 

“That one’s my favorite,” Dieter tells you, “He, umm… he was really talented.” 

Through your burgeoning tears, you smile, “Yeah. He was great.” 

You tear the portrait from the sketchbook and hand it to Dieter, who asks, “What about the rest?” 

Instead of answering, you step past him and take the sketchbook to the living room, where you lower yourself down in front of the fireplace and open the grate. Dieter follows, sitting down beside you as you tear out the first page and feed it to glowing embers in the hearth. 

Flames crackle to life, burning the paper to ash. 

You give it another. 

And another. 

And another. 

When the sketchbook is just an empty shell, you toss it in. Then Dieter hands you something. You glance it over for a moment, recognizing the painful passage you wrote the night before. You give that to the fire, too. 

He takes your hand and sits there with you while the flames die and return to smolders. 

“How’d that feel?” he asks eventually. 

“Fucking perfect.” 

You turn to him, searching his face, “Thank you.” 

The corner of his mouth turns up in a smirk and he squeezes your hand, “Anytime, doll.” 

When you lean in to kiss him, his lips are soft and warm against yours. A sensation swells in your chest, this glowing kaleidoscope of patterns that shifts and twists into a million brilliant images. It feels like forever in the best way. It feels like heaven. 

He pulls back, those big ganache eyes meeting yours, “You ready?” 

“Yeah,” you nod and smile at him, “I’m ready. Let’s blow this popsicle stand.”

Groaning, Dieter climbs to his feet and holds out his hand to you. You accept it, letting him help you up. Your hands stay firmly locked together as he grabs your ratty old suitcase and leads you to the door, out of the dark room and into the bright midday sun.

[cometsandstardust]

I’m rewatching Agents of Shield and here is a (final) list of things I genuinely forgot happened:

(and also little things i enjoy)

season seven:

- deke printed out sheriff stars

- “i just can’t seem to hold down a husband as they all just turn up with broken ribs when they give me lip” - daisy

- coulson learned about the speakeasy in a first year history course at the academy

- the first thing may says after finding out she’s in 1931, was “i’m hungry”

- “i’m a doctor, not a dame” “i’m a biochemist not a bird” fucking icon jemma simmons

- deke tells freddy that he invented the walkie-talkie

- “agent may, if i may?” enoch is so funny

- …may says she doesn’t feel anything when she wakes up, even though her empathy-ability is already present (though no one knows it yet). she wakes up and feels nothing because the only other person there is enoch, who isn’t human, and therefore doesn’t feel anything, at least not the way we do

- she also talks in a very-enoch like connotation during these scenes (same sort of lilt in her voice)

- they brought koenig onboard the zephyr and he said “excuse me if i’m not impressed” and then immediately lost his shit. he also called enoch a robot, and enoch made a very “bitch, please” face

- freddy shot koenig in the shoulder

- enoch is shown to be working as a bartender at the end of s7ep2 for koenig

- the zephyr scared two teenagers half to death when they got to the fifties

- younger daisy (aka skye ig) believed that area 51 was controlled by shield and was proven right

- the first time may showed signs of her empathy besides the monotone killer mood was when trying to single out the chronicom starting up helius and she basically had a panic attack

- also the chronicom they’re chasing has a very dottie underwood like aesthetic (ofc i’m referencing agent carter when my boy sousa is back)

- overriding the system knocked out the two chronicoms and coulson.

- the camera zoomed in on coulson’s eye and showed a circuit flickering

- the reason s7ep4 is in black and white is because of a malfunction in the wires

- sousa was considered the first fallen soldier of shield

- sousa called howard a pompous ass (he’s right and he should say it)

- mack compared the effect of sousa’s death on shield to the effect of coulson’s to the avengers

- sousa stole a motorcycle from the zephyr

- deke said he wrote the song “don’t you (forget about me)”

- he also name drops daisy in his own lyrics

- coulson’s in a tv

- sybil’s “dumb bot” acts just like a dalek for a sec

- may and yoyo sparred to try and trigger yoyo’s powers into working again

- yo-yo got stuck on the quinjet at the beginning of each loop

- in several loops, mack gets blinded by a radiation flare

- deke gives the distance from the center of the time storm in kilometers, which i initially thought was strange cause y’know american, but then i realized that deke literally grew up in space and that fitz-simmons basically created all the tech/software on board so yeah metric system

- daisy proved to simmons that she was in a loop with the fake word: “phlebotinum”

- when trying to remove the implant, on the first two tries, a lethal gas filled the room killing simmons (and the second time, daisy)

- in one loop, sousa grabbed the machine to remove the implant from the drawer instead of daisy or simmons and started coughing up blood

- also he literally grabbed it so that if something went wrong daisy wouldn’t die and lose her memories of the time loop

- may initially didn’t want to tell kora about jiaying but then brought her to see her body

- kora tried to help her mother heal by giving her energy

- simmons started forgetting fitz after malick put her in the memory machine

[bloopitynoot]

Reading SVSSS: Chapter 13

For those who don't know, I am reading SVSSS for the first time and sharing my thoughts!

If you have not read it, there will be spoilers! Consider this a warning.

Also- if you want to follow along, I am aiming to post updates daily. You can find all the posts in the tag bloopitynoot reads SVSSS. You can also check out the intro post for context on my read.

I'm here! Finally posting yesterday's read.

Last night I was watching critical role and making flower crowns for the ren faire today and I totally lost track of time. But I did read earlier and I have the notes!

Anyways; no tea- I slammed this coke zero. The flower crowns ended up being real cute though.

Here we go; last chapter of book 2!

I'm already nervous :( this chapter is titled coercion. Coercion of who?

Well. Shen Qingqiu arrives and the mountain is already under siege- solid start. p283

This is less a reflection on this current chapter and more a thought about the longevity of this character; but I feel like Luo Binghe is going to inevitably perish. The reckless abandon in which he approaches anything Shizun adjacent is going to end this man. Like in this chapter- fully just tells everyone he's of demonic heritage- 0 fucks, no care for his own life now or in the future. Sure, he's powerful as hell but like eventually he has to sleep. p284

Oh gosh. Both Yue Qingyuan and Liu Qingge are in a bad way AND they are in the same room as Luo Binghe. p285

Okay but to be fair, when it comes to the body of Shen Qingqiu I am on the side of the sect here. Like bare minimum even if this man supposedly committed all the crimes (he didnt and they do know this) he still deserves to have proper death rites. Luo Binghe did do some unhinged things. pp 286-287

RIP Shang Qinghua LOL everyone knows you are an opportunist with nary a loyal bone in your body. Congrats on your entire sect knowing now p288

OOP. the audacity of Luo Binghe to Liu Qingge "ah! The loser I defeated" I mean not wrong but you dont have to be a dick about it. p289 Luo Binghe is so cocky!

and here we have SQQ inserting himself into mortally dangerous situations that he could have walked away from. The self sacrificing he has been doing this entire book (intentional or not) is so wild. This man cannot do anything in a stealthy way- everything dramatic and loud and at the centre of attention. p290

WAIT! "caught you shizun" p290 He did know! I had a suspicion!

What did you expect SQQ ofc he meant to draw you out. He could have tracked you but he lost the ability to do so with the other demon. p293

as an aside I am now wondering how this is going to work out. The Zhuzhi-Lang can also torture and track him at a distance- this is going to be a later problem for SQQ and Luo Binghe no doubt

oh poor buddy "you're not a fool...I am" p293

ooooooo. "didn't my sweetness make shizun oh-so happy?" p294. that's not even it oh no so much emotional damage

Also Shang Qinghua exposed again with the mushroom info p294

I am on SQQ's side with this one. How can the sect be mad about him not going there right away when he was kind of underground and also had to relearn how to move his own body p295

I am annoyed at Liu Qingge and I think, maybe, unjustifiably. I feel like his character is complicated and eventually I want to read a character study or two about him for more insight. What prompted this is: he is both acknowledging that SQQ is doing something utterly selfless for the sect but also pissed that he's doing it at all. Like- is it him feeling inadequate? Or is it how he feels about SQQ or the sect? idk- I will continue to think about him. p297

Luo Binghe was not satisfied with mushroom-zun he also wants the original body?? p299

RIP all of SQQ's dignity and his mental health "I've already submitted to you" p299 his word choice though LOL

His body is missing?!?!?!?!?!? p300

what a cliffhanger! Now I need to know who stole his corpse! If it ends up being 2 SQQ's OR that Luo Binghe's dad is using SQQ's original body I am done done LOL.

We finished book 2!

Thank you to those who have been reading along- this has truly been so fun! I appreciate all the comments and clarifications; they have been helpful and have been making this reading process super engaging. Getting to chat about the thing I am enjoying with others who also love The Thing has been a solid highlight of my days!

[woodle-isbae]

Hi! I’m a huge fan from ages and I have a request, if you’re comfortable ofc!

So could you do male reader (top) x Joost (bottom) smut, where reader get jealous at a party cause this girl flirts with Joost and Joost says it’s nothing so reader slowly works Joost up during the night to the point that he is really needy and kinda desperate for his touch. Reader then takes him into the bathroom and proves who’s in charge. (sorry if that sounds weird)

Please and thank you (I love your work sm, don’t stop 🙏🙏🙏)

🎐anon

You entered the costume Party with your Boyfriend , Joost , him dressed as a man in black and you as a vampire

The party alive and wild , with people playing crazy beer games and couples all up on eachother in the corners of the house

"I'm gonna go get us drinks..be right back"

He hummed in confirmation, allowing you to dissapear off into the dimly light house.

You were mixing up some drinks all together for you and Joost until a softer voice came up behind you.

"Your gonna drink all those by yourself?"

It was some chick dressed up as an angel , the extremely short pink dress and white wedge heels.

"Uh..nah I'm drinking these with my..uh friend"

She giggled at what you said , mabye it because you were awkward about it or the fact you said it in a dumb vampire accent

"Your really hot...you got a girl?"

"Well-kinda?"

"Would she mind?"

You were kinda taken aback by her boldness , she really expects you to cheat on your partner for some one night stand? Jeez.

"Well-I have to go-"

You couldn't even bother to give her a smile or anything , wasting no time to get lost in the crowded living room. Trying your best to find some platinum blond hair in the wave of bodies before you.

In the corner of your eye you saw your boyfriend laughing with some blond girl , not being able to tell what they're talking about but it seems entertaining.

Just as you began walking towards them, they began walking to the dance floor , dancing all up on eachother. Placing the drinks down on the table before you pushed through people to get to them , throwing your arm over his shoulder

"Exuse-"

"Who do we have here?"

You looked over at the girl and it was the same chick from the drink table. She moves on fast. Turning back to face your boyfriend who was avoiding your gaze

"You wouldn't mind if I stole him huh? Great ,thanks."

Not even giving her a chance to speak before you pulled him away from the dance floor , shoving him into some seat.

"Fuck around and find out"

"Wha- what do you mean?"

You simply shrugged at his question, helping him get up from the seat before brushing your hand behind his neck , face being dangerously close to his collar bone. Moving away from him with a cheeky smile as he was about to grip onto you.

This continued on for the rest of the night, constantly sending him lingering touches and being all up against him. He was ready to explode by the time you let your touch linger longer than the rest.

. . .

"Where are you taking me?"

"I fucking need you."

You held back a chuckle , for his sake , allowing him to shove you into the bathroom. Locking it with haste before he turned over to face you , his outfit was absolutely ruined , his tie sitting loose and shirt slightly unbuttoned.

"Your a mess"

"I wonder why."

"Watch your tone."

Sloppily making out with him against the bathroom counter , clothes flimsely being removed before Joost stood before you , only in his Vest and briefs. Wasting no time to unbuckle your belt and drop your pants , boxers following suite

"Fuck prep , just do it."

Taken aback by his need , you allowed it. Turning him over to face the sink mirror , staring him in the eye as you entered him, shockingly easy to get in but obviously not with full prep.

"R'you sure?"

"Fuck- yes! I'm sure."

The desperation in his face evident as he bucked his hips back into you, your own following the steady rhythm. In a blink of an eye the taller man beneath you was ruined , face pressed into the sink and hands held behind his back.

"This what happens when you try f'king around."

Your anger proven in the harsh thrusts and grit of your teeth , the way you shoved his face down and held his hand with the other hand. Hips not giving out the slightest.

"Flaunting around , y'tryna fuck someone?"

Pulling his head up by his hair , forcing him to look at you both in the mirror. The sly smirk on your face enhanced by the dark red contacts and the dimly lit bathroom. His face red and covered in tears , moans choking out of his puffy red lips

"They know you liked to get fucked? Like some whore , always wanting me..even at parties"

"N-no! -fuck- I won't do it again-pleasepleaseplease-!"

His voice cracking , barely being able to form a full sentance , too fucked out to even thunk about what you said , all the things he did earlier in the night far from his worries

"You can cum , you deserve it after all huh? Say it."

You were also nearing your end , unable to hold back anymore but still wanting to torture him a little bit more.

"I- fuck - I deserve it...I deserve to cum"

Those words were all you needed to hear , letting go of his hands and turning him over , kissing him as he came all over your torso.

A few more pumps and you pulled out , gasping out as you came in between his legs , coating his inner thighs with your cum.

After cleaning up and getting redressed you both left the bathroom separately, Joost heading over to some corner of the house to regain his composure while you went to get some drinks.