#snippet

Spoiler not spoiler: the whole chapter will be just and only about them (and their first time!!) because, c'mon, they deserve it <3 #sorrynot sorry Aren't they superlovely? *O* p.s. thanks to (bearded) Penn's and Blake's past love story that provides the proper pics to me ;P *

“Be honest with me: how many things inside it are clothes and how many… books?” Joe chuckles as he chooses his outfit for the night, deciding that a pair of black jeans will be okay. “You really don’t want to know that.” He mutters, closing the trolley and placing it under the bed. “And that is already the answer.” She points out. “What can I say? Clothes only dress your body, but books feed your soul.” “Oh! This is so deep. I guess my soul is starving, then, while my wardrobe is about to explode!”

“So, do you think that you can draw something casual from your wardrobe that is about to explode?” Serena cocks a curious eyebrow at him.

“Casual, did you say? What are you planning?” “Yesterday you said you wished for us to go to a theatre as a couple and not while I have to work. Well, let’s say I found a way to please you, but it doesn't require the dress code of a theatre.” He explains as he rubs his hair inside a towel. “Uhm, I like mysteries.” She smiles. “I hope you also like the quickness.” “Huh?” “For what I plan we are supposed to be there in less than one hour and you still have to change because, of course,  you look stunning with that Christian Dior silver, glittery, strapless dress with a train, but I’m afraid it would be too inappropriate.” “Oh.” She chews on her lower lip, staring at her reflection in one of the golden wall mirrors. “How did you know it’s a Christian Dior’s?”

“Just a wild guess.” He shrugs. “So, please, Serena, could you be that kind of girl who if she says she’ll be ready in twenty minutes she actually means it?”

She smirks. “I’m going to astonish you. I’ll be ready in fifteen minutes on the clock.” She promises, right before grabbing something from her wardrobe, so fast that he can’t see it and then she disappears in the bathroom.

Joe takes advantage of that to use the hairdrier, before finally getting dressed.

At the fourteenth minute of clock, Serena steps back, in a white, knee-length pleated shirt, that she decided to use like a dress, with long brown boots.

Her hair is gathered in a sort of messy low bun, her make up so natural it almost seems there’s none.

And she looks beautiful, as effortlessly as usual. “Mesmerizing, fast and true to her word. You’re just my type.” He beams. “Well, well, Johnny, I like your idea of casual outfit.” She purrs, as she walks closer to him and caresses his lightly sea-though brown T-shirt.

“And I’m astonished by the fact there’s something in your wardrobe that’s not high fashion.” He gives her a peck on her lips.

She smirks again.

“Who said it isn’t?”

“Another Christian Dior?” He stares at her, skeptical.

"What're you doing?"

"Getting dressed?" She says, looking up from where she'd been digging through her drawer.

Paige is staring at her, stomach still flat on the bed. She shakes her head. "No, stay naked."

Azzi laughs. "Are you really ready to throw this plan out the window already?"

"No," Paige says, "I just want you naked."

"You want me naked?" Azzi asks, crossing her arms. She's still in her towel, but her forearms smush her breasts upwards, showing her cleavage.

While he's trying to figure out who is his killer, he crosses paths with Stephen.

If they knew each other or not before I'll leave it up to you...

There was something wrong with the man watching him from the back of the deli. Wrong but familiar. Stephen’s order was called and he quickly retrieved his food, not taking his attention away from the man watching him.

Of course today was the one day that Wong hadn’t accompanied him to the deli. But Wong was in another dimension at the moment and Stephen had been hungry for something he didn’t have to make himself. He debated with himself for a long moment before he decided to do the sensible thing—though Wong would probably call it reckless—and figure out what, exactly, was so off with this man.

He moved deliberately toward the back of the deli, making eye contact with the man, making sure that he was prepared at any moment to pull out dimensional energy.

The man stiffened a little, as though he hadn’t realized until this moment that he’d been caught, but he didn’t move or try to escape.

Stephen settled across from the stranger, that sense of wrong and familiar even stronger now that he was close and looking the man in the eyes. “Is there a reason you’re watching me?” Stephen asked, keeping his tone deliberately light, as though entirely unbothered and unconcerned. 

“Yes,” the man said. 

“Why are you watching me,” Stephen asked, when it became clear the man didn’t plan to elaborate.

The man’s lips tightened into a thin line. “I figure of everyone out there, you’re the most likely to be able to help me,” he said.

Stephen arched an eyebrow, pretending he had no idea what the man might mean. In some ways it was true. The average person should know nothing about what Stephen did. After Thanos and Titan, Tony had helped obfuscate Stephen’s and Wong’s identities. A flicker of pain twisted in his chest. Tony’s death only weeks ago—suspicious in too many ways, even if it’d been declared a heart attack—still hurt. In the months after Titan, Tony had become a friend. But Tony’s work had been good. No one should know who Stephen was or what he did. “How so?”

The man sighed, running a hand through his hair. “You’re going to think I’m crazy.”

“I’ll suspend my disbelief,” Stephen said dryly. He’d seen far crazier things than this man could imagine.

It was clear the man didn’t fully believe him. “A few weeks ago I was murdered,” the man said. “I don’t fully know who, I didn’t have the good fortune of seeing them before they injected me. I’ve been trying to figure it out, but with no luck so far.”

Stephen froze, a dozen thoughts racing to potential conclusions.

“Except, instead of dying, I woke up in the hospital in someone else’s body. They ‘resuscitated him’, except not, because I was in there, not whoever Jacob Worthington is.”

“Tony?” Stephen asked, the name coming out more a whisper.

The man—Tony—gave him an unhappy smile. “Alive and in someone else’s flesh.”

Stephen stood, almost forgetting his sandwich in the process. It seemed a lot less important now. “Come with me,” he said. “This isn’t a conversation for the deli.”

“You’ll help me figure this out?” Tony asked.

Pierrot~

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While washing, you got reminded of that gripping hug from Pierrot. He tightens his grip like you were going to leave him, that won't happen, of course. Though you love seeing him get so possessive of you everytime. Thinking about him makes you think of lewd things. He's already cute when he blushes; he'll be cuter if he were blushing under you. Grabbing his waist roughly as his ass grinds your cock desperately, covering his face in embarrassment, tears falling as he calls out your name in little whimpers. "My Lord...Ah....More, please more~."

You hate having such thoughts about him, but you can't help it. His adorable face he makes when he's happy to see you. Makes you wonder if he'll make that face still if you mark him as yours... Maybe you are the possessive one. You can't fully blame yourself, though. He's definitely the canvas, and you want to paint all over him~.

art by @sixcat69 on Tumblr

(if you want me to take the art down, I will, just let me know)

☆. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁ ⟡ ݁ . ⊹ ₊ ݁.☆

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