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miinatozakiii · 8 months

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Zzz

chou tzuyu x fem!reader ; fluff

summary: three nights in a one bedroom hotel with tzuyu, it's different each time but it's heartwarming.

wc: 1.9k

a/n: im soooo tired :-( hope this is alright for you guys :'-)

you and tzuyu seem to pause in place when you notice that one bed is missing.

the hotel room was nice, sure. i mean it had a wonderful view of the city

the thing is: you didn't know if your heart could take sharing a bed with tzuyu.

the two of you were sent to a city a few hours away as representatives for the district, the two of you had made it to the finals for your own respective sports. tzuyu was the renowned archery star, everyone knew of her skills and a good amount of the trophies that were displayed in the lobby of your school were from her. similarly, you were the swim victor— you were also pretty well-known for your achievements, but tzuyu was certainly acknowledged more for her brains and especially her beauty, as well as her sweet, unreserved personality.

you and tzuyu were pretty friendly, good friends. the two of you had worked on a project before, she had come to your house and whatnot— your grandma had even asked if she was your girlfriend (and it had your cheeks all red, your grandma wanted you finished.)

you were not opposed to the idea of traveling with tzuyu to represent your school and district; in fact, you thought it would be fun to maybe get to know her a little better, i mean, the two of you had already spent a decent amount of time. you wouldn't mind spending time with the prettiest girl in the school.

"was there a mistake...?" you say lowly, trying not to offend her (maybe you're overthinking it, would it be offensive in the first place?)

"we could ask the front desk to change? only if you're uncomfy with, you know..." she starts. "but, um, i'm fine sleeping with... you know with you..." tzuyu trails off, implying that she's okay with sleeping next to you, but her brain scrambles and she can't muster up the courage to say what she's trying to.

you turn your head to look at her and your gazes meet, her cheeks are a little flushed.

"tzuyu i," your nervous words form, but you're unable to hold eye contact. "if you don't want to trouble them... i'm fine with you know, i mean, only if you're...?"

"yeah," tzuyu hums awkwardly, "we can do that."

"only if you're comfy with it."

"y/n, it's fine. i'm comfy and if it's you i'm more than fine."

your face burns at her last remark, you nod at her.

there are no words exchanged while you two unpack and situate yourselves in the cozy hotel room—you're especially grateful that the silence isn't uncomfortable, and the atmosphere of the room is seemingly brightened as tzuyu hums softly to a song playing on her phone, it's faint, but it makes your heart do a little flip.

tzuyu showers first and comes out in gray lounge pants, as well a beige t-shirt on, she's effortlessly beautiful.

"did i take too long?" she asks you while running a hand through her slightly damp hair.

"no, it's okay." you respond.

after getting out of the shower you change into your pajamas in the bathroom. you have on dark, plaid sweatpants and a comfy sweatshirt. it's simple and cozy. when you gaze into the mirror after moisturizing your face, you get a little self-conscious, i mean, you are spending the night in the same bed with chou tzuyu. half, if not most the school would kill to be in your place.

when you walk out the door and your gaze lands on the bed, tzuyu is already situated. her head is on a pillow and her cheek just barely mushes against the mattress while she looks through her phone. she looks so relaxed under the large, white blanket (and she looks so cute you might lose your cool then and there.)

don't make it weird.

tzuyu notices you rubbing the towel against your hair and smiles sweetly. you smile back and the slight tension seems to die down.

as you get yourself situated, tzuyu continues to pay attention to whatever was on her phone. you decide to go on yours as well to avoid anything awkward.

the moment of being glued to each others phones only lasts a couple minutes before you yawn, making tzuyu giggle quietly.

"tired?"

"a little." you sigh, putting the phone down.

you set your head down on the pillow and tzuyu turns to meet your eyes. it's strangely intimate and you have to shift your gaze away as you pull the blanket over your body—the blanket that you two have to share, and you're careful not to make contact with her legs under the cotton.

"we should probably sleep y'know, since we have our events," you mumble, still facing her with heavy eyelids.

there's a good amount of space in between the two of you, the bed is a queen-sized one after all. a foot of space sits between the two of you (you assume), yet you're still flustered from the shared warmth under the blanket—a small move and boom, you're practically cuddling with chou tzuyu.

"yeah, you should definitely get more sleep though—isn't your sport pretty tiring?" tzuyu questions.

"kinda." (very.)

"you're impressive, y/n." and tzuyu says that under her breath. it makes you smile and laugh softly.

"maybe." you mumble, eyes about to shut.

"goodnight y/n." tzuyu says, smiling.

"goodnight." you respond, and you shift over to turn away from her, just so it isn't too awkward.

tzuyu's a bit disappointed that she can only see your back. she might've wanted to see your sleepy look—but she'd never admit that.

even though you had fallen asleep first, tzuyu wakes up before you.

she shifts a little in her sleep before opening her eyes, and when she can process her surroundings she finds herself noticeably closer to you. tzuyu's face is a couple of inches away from your face, and she grins at the way your cheek smushes against the pillow.

cute.

you're turned on your side and one of your arms is dangerously close to hers, just barely grazing her own arm and it a warm feeling flashes through her chest.

tzuyu gets up slowly, rubbing her eyes as she looks towards the window of the hotel room. the sun is still rising—how beautiful, she thinks.

the shorter athlete gets up and stretches, a light groan leaving her lips as she gets up on her feet.

when tzuyu finishes getting ready in teh bathroom, she's met with a sleepy y/n sitting on the bed who's rubbing her face and stretching her arms out.

there's something about your messy hair, the way it falls down over your face and sticks out at the ends. there's also something about your tired eyes and puffy face in the morning—it's adorable.

night two.

it's almost identical to the night before, though you reach the hotel room with slumped shoulders and sore bodies instead of surprise from seeing a single bed.

tzuyu showers first again, and you shower thereafter—same as last time.

what's different about this night is that tzuyu is sitting up on the bed now instead of lying there cutely, but she's still on her phone scrolling away.

you're the one who lays down as soon as you reach the bed, sighing as the mattress eases your aching muscles. the exhausted sigh that you let out makes tzuyu redirect her attention towards you, and she smiles at the sight of you looking up at the ceiling tiredly.

"how did your events go?" tzuyu asks you, setting her phone down on the nightstand and giving you her undivided attention.

"overwhelming." you sigh. "everyone there was really good, different from our district."

"you made it to the finals though right?"

"barely."

tzuyu frowns at you and decides that your sulking isn't going to cut it.

"i saw you for a bit, you did well. gosh, swimming must be hard, but you looked incredible out there." tzuyu says, and it makes you smile softly. you move to prop yourself up on your elbows.

"thanks." you say, even though you're still a bit disappointed by your previous performance. "you did good too, i saw the way you hit bullseye."

"i missed one."

"at least you made third." you recall, trying to comfort her in some way. there's a small silence that stretches out after your response—it's interrupted by you collapsing on the bed again and sighing tiredly. "don't beat yourself up too much, you did great." you add, closing your eyes. "let's get some sleep so we can do better tomorrow, yeah?"

tzuyu hums and lets herself lay down next to you so that she's facing you. the evident difference from the night before was that this space between the two of you is just slightly closer.

"thanks y/n," tzuyu murmurs. "goodnight."

"sleep well, tzuyu."

the difference tonight is that you don't turn around completely; instead, you lay down on your back—which lets tzuyu admire your soft features before you close your eyes. tzuyu likes the sight.

the difference in the next morning is that tzuyu wakes up with her head close to your shoulder—basically against it—and her hand is rested against your forearm. the warmth radiating off of you is dangerous; it almost tempts tzuyu to press closer.

the faint scent of vanilla fills her nose as she breathes in, and she realizes that this is the closest she's been to you. it's nerve racking, it makes the butterflies down in her stomach start to flutter.

night three.

it's the same again: tzuyu showers first, you follow and end up on the bed less than fifteen minutes later.

the two of you lay down next to each other on your backs while facing the ceiling, the room is silent—the only sound heard is the small breaths from the two of you. both of you are a bit drained from your respective sports; especially you since you've had to swim so damn much.

tzuyu turns to her side, facing the side of your face.

"you did good, y/n."

"i tried." you mutter in defeat.

"third place isn't bad."

"you got first." you respond, though you make sure there's no jealousy or anything negative in your tone. you're genuinely proud of her getting first place, you remember smiling so brightly as soon as you saw her on the podium.

"well," tzuyu starts, but you cut her off.

"you don't have to comfort me or anything, i'm just glad i got to experience something as big as this." you begin, pulling the soft blanket over you and turning to face her with a cheek pressed against the matress. "and i liked spending time with you," the last part is muttered under your breath, nearly incoherent. tzuyu picks it up, though.

"yeah." she breaths out.

the two of you seem to stray away from the topic of sports that night, instead, both of you seem to ramble about anything else. it's unexpected, but it's really nice to let loose and forget about the previously demanding events.

what's different about tonight is that you two talk until you fall asleep—facing each other, an inch or two apart.

what's different about the morning is that tzuyu wakes up with an arm around her, and she breathes in the familiar scent of vanilla again. what's different is that her leg is tangled with one of yours—it makes her heart pound.

she looks up to see you sleeping peacefully—you manage to push her closer into you even in your slumber—tzuyu lets herself snuggle closer into you.

what's different about is that tzuyu lets herself sleep in a little, and she plans on waking up when you do.

#twice x reader #kpop x reader #twice imagines #twice fluff #tzuyu x reader #chou tzuyu #twice tzuyu

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filmofhybe · 7 months

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Chapter 9 - the one that dated him?

> pairing : Nishimura Riki x Female Reader

> genre : college student AU! , Pool Lifeguard AU! , smau , fluff

> warnings : SLOW BURN!! , swearing , bad humor jokes , kys jokes (die etc) , kissing , semi verbal bullying (no violence) , reader! injuring herself by accident , missing parent figure

> chapter synopsis : As break has ended, all student are finally back to school once again, which also means some new faces. Including Isabelle.

previous - next | masterlist

comment or reblog to ask be on the series taglist.

( I also just want to mention that this series is kinda slow burn, so if your not into slow burn or plot lines that can take a bit to develop than this story is probably not your cup of tea. But I do recommend checking out my other works if you want, enjoy!! )

Word count - 462

“oh my gosh intak just pick a shoe? It isn’t a fashion show.” Everyone was standing outside the boys dorm right now, all because Intak can’t pick his shoes because apparently his fit needed to be “sandwiched”. This would be a understatement right now because the school meeting at the hall would be ten times more important than some stupid shoe.

“Gosh I’m done let’s go!” Intak stumbles out of the door before locking it as the group walk towards the hall, chatting about what they should have at the restaurant after the meeting. The hall was crowed with people, with familiar faces all around once again. Lots of people went up to the group for a reunion hug and catching up. Y/n was distracted over Niki’s text, saying he would be waiting for her around the very back corner of the hall with his friends. Maybe I should go check?..

“Guys I’ll be back in a few. Please save me a seat.” y/n informed before stepping away from the group and walking towards the back corner of the hall. As she continues to walk towards the back, she sees a tall boy with black and blonde hair, wearing a loose plaid shirt and baggy stylish jeans. He was in a group, y/n assume it was his other six friends. She quickly walked towards him and tapped on his shoulder, which caused him to turn around.

“Omg hi y/n!” Niki heart was beating so fast, what do you mean this would be their proper first talk in real life? Y/n wearing that white strap top with a beige skirt and white platform but is still shorter than himself made him go feral. “Hi Niki! I’m doing well is nice to finally and actually talk to you.” Y/n chuckled before greeting the others until she saw the new girl. Wait isn’t she-

“Oh this is Isabelle. One of my childhood friends And Isabelle, this is y/n.” Niki introduced. That’s when your mind clicked. Isabelle. You know who she is, the girl who got with the guy you used to like, all because she was pretty but also because she spread a really disgusting rumor about you, which made everyone dislike you.

“Well don’t be so rude and greet me?” Her voice made you cringe so badly that you didn’t say much before shaking her hand with a firm grip. You can tell the boys feel the tension between you both. They have never seen you greet someone without a smile.

"Well, is nice meeting you. I think it is my time to go. I’ll see you soon.” You said as you left, anger was building up inside of you. Because now you have to deal with another problem when you already have ninety-nine.

Niki’s POV:

When y/n left, the tension between everyone thickens. “Ugh how rude is she..” Isabelle said. But no one makes a remark about it. “Well me and Jay are gonna sit down now I’ll see you all later.” Sunghoon said before walking towards y/n group of friends. The others nodded as they follow on another.

“Do they not like me or something?”

“I just think they are tired. Is okay I’ll sit with you..”

“Aww your the best Riki let’s go!”

series taglist : @surefornext @spilled-coffee-cup @haechansgf @txtistheloml@skepvids @syuuji @oshakyao @haechansbbg @en-happiness

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whumpy-daydreams · 1 year

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Welcome to Hell

Masterpost

Previous Next

CW: manhandling, prison

When Rowena came to, she was still in the van. Lights and faces swam as she recounted what had happened.

“Aren’t we there yet?” None of the soldiers showed any signs that they had heard her and Rowena wasn’t keen on being knocked out again, so spent the rest of the journey scowling to herself.

Eventually, the van stopped and the doors were opened to reveal a landscape of grey. Grey concrete walls, grey linked wire fences topped with grey barbed wire, grey gravel on the ground, grey sky of clouds. The whole area was crawling with soldiers and people in black who looked vaguely like riot police. Rowena was escorted out of the van surrounded by soldiers. She held her head high, smiling cheerily at anyone who dared to look at her with curiosity or malign.

The building she was led into was white and shiny, almost medical except for the number of guns everyone carried. Rowena looked around the reception area while someone talked to a receptionist. Laughter came from one corner of the room where a small group of guards were lounging in listening to rap through a tinny phone speaker. When a couple of them glanced at her she put on her flirtiest expression, licking her lips as she glanced them up and down. A sharp tug interrupted and she was frogmarched towards an elevator but looked behind anyway, winking at the guards who were still watching.

The whole place was the same: white plastic and vinyl, saline and sanitiser, grating beeps as each door was unlocked and locked again. Rowena glanced into some of the open doors, largely just seeing blank white rooms, occasionally with beds or surgical tables on. Most had a large one-way mirror in one wall.

“In here.” A smartly dressed man greeted them in the corridor, gesturing to an open room. “There are clothes on the bench for you to change into,” now he addressed Rowena, “if they’re the wrong size or you need anything else, just let us know.” His smile was clinical.

Prison clothes again. Rowena sighed at the sight of them: a pair of elasticated trousers and a t-shirt, both a blue-grey colour. At least there was fresh underwear.

The room was mostly empty. White walls, grey lino floor, built-in plastic bench, and a one-way mirror. Rowena took the opportunity to look at her hair and face in it, fully aware that there was someone on the other side watching her. She still had rainbows across her cheekbone which contrasted with the dark circles under her eyes, but her hair didn’t look too bad. It was a mess. But it had been worse. She ran through it with her fingers as well as possible, and smoothed it down until she looked half-decent.

Time passed slowly and it quickly became evident that no one was planning on interacting any time soon. So Rowena lay down on the bench and tried to get some sleep - a task that would prove to be more difficult than expected. Usually, she didn’t have difficulty sleeping in awkward places but something about the clothes and the surface were just too uncomfortable. Oh well.

The sound of a door opening woke Rowena from her light sleep and she jumped groggily to her feet.

“Hello, Miss Torsen. Apologies for the wait,” a middle-aged mousy man said. His hands pushed his white coat back to reveal beige trousers and a plaid shirt with the top two buttons undone. “I’m here to assess you before we get you settled in.”

“Settled in where?” Rowena demanded.

“This is a medical research facility for genetic conditions”

“And where is this… research facility?” The man paused.

“I’m afraid due to your status I’m not permitted to tell you.” Rowena smiled and looked down. And then lunged towards him, pressing him to the one-way glass by his neck.

“Tell me where I am,” she spat. “Or I will fucking strangle you.” As she spoke the door opened again and two guards rushed in, dragging Rowena off the doctor. She struggled against them, kicking and punching, but she was weak from her days in a cell and it was two against one anyway. They pulled her to a wall and restrained her against it while the doctor recovered himself.

“Thank you.” He brushed down his coat. “I will implore you to cooperate, Miss Torsen. Because you are here as part of your sentence, your position and any movements must be known at all times. In addition, force can and will be used to keep you within the building and of course if you become violent.

“Given your actions just now you will be allocated to a high-security unit and will remain there until it can be deemed safe to move you to a lower security one. Meals are delivered three times a day and you will be medically examined every morning. Do you have any questions?”

“Why am I here, and not in a - I don’t know - a normal prison?”

"You are mavori."

"And? I can move and create shit what’s so special about that?"

"We want to understand how we can better control the condition. With the appropriate application of knowledge, we could change modern warfare forever.”

"You mean you want to weaponise it to kill innocent people.”

“To save lives. If we can cure it we can also prevent numerous people from causing unnecessary damage through both stable and unstable use.” He took a breath and smiled. "Now then, are you calm enough to be physically examined?"

"Fuck you."

"Take her to her room, please." He sighed, standing aside to make room for the guards to escort Rowena out.

Acquisition form

#mortiawrites #land of liars #whump #prison whump #manhandling #my writing #original writing #whump writing

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clarkeayers5 · 2 years

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diazbates8 · 2 years

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norris82rivas · 2 years

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enhalite · 2 years

Text

6:27 AM ( ACHE )

lee heeseung x reader

word count : 681

It’s cold, the wind breaking through your jacket and making you shiver as you stand in place. It feels kind of surreal, in a way, that you’re seeing Heesung after so long.

Your boyfriend had gone off to study a semester in Europe — an opportunity you’d told him he couldn’t let pass. It’s not every day that you get a scholarship to travel to one of the most beautiful places in the world.

Was it London? Or Amsterdam? Maybe Paris; you’re forgetting. Heeseung had seemed to be in a different city every time he sent you pictures and, like, you understand Europe is tiny, but the pictures with the Buckingham Palace one day, and the Eiffel Tower the next sort of were whiplash-worth-it.

It doesn’t matter anymore, because the sun is rising and the cold is numbing but you’re minutes away from seeing the love of your life again. After months of seeing him through a screen, it feels surreal that you’ll actually be able to jump into his arms and kiss him senseless — and, honestly, you’re planning on doing exactly that.

“Landed: Flight 285,” the automatic voice of the airport speakers ricochets inside your brain like it were an echoing chamber, and you start shaking your leg in place as you know, now, that you’re merely minutes away from your Heeseung.

Your phone rings, and you stumble to answer it as soon as the contact picture of Heeseung’s face shows up on screen. Your fingers feel like butter, and you answer with a deep breath and excitement bubbling through your throat.

“Baby, hi,” you say.

He laughs. “You sound so tired. Are you here? I just finished getting my bags.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m waiting.” The excitement is too much now, and you feel your heart beating out of your chest as you start trying to recognize his face in the crowd of people. “I brought your car.”

“My car? Now, who told you you could drive it?”

“It has a bigger trunk!” You exclaim, and then your eyes settle on a sight: a boy, tall and lanky and beautiful, wearing that godly awful green and beige plaid shirt and sweatpants. He’s looking for something in his carry-on bag, phone pressed between his shoulder and his ear.

He laughs. “Your mom has a bigger trunk—“

“Heesung,” you interrupt.

“What?”

With a grin, moving through the crowds of people, you warn: “Get ready.”

He makes a noise of confusion, but you’re already running and heading straight into his arms. He must hear your footsteps, because he looks up and the grin that appears on his face is lovely — dazzling, gorgeous, so goddamn relieving to see in person again.

Within seconds, you’re slamming into him and he’s picked you up — bags be damned — to spin you in place as he laughs loudly. You can’t help yourself, laughing along and clinging to him like your life depends on it. It surely feels like it does.

“I missed you, I missed you, I missed you,” he keeps repeating. You just cling tight until he lets you down.

You two are sort of causing a scene, but you don’t care. At this point, all you care about is his lips pressed to yours, so you ignore the cold biting at your nose and the lack of sleep from both of you, and with your hands clasped around his neck, you get on your tip-toes to connect your lips.

For the first time in six months — and, God, it feels like coming home.

It’s not so much of a kiss as it is a touch of lips, interrupted by Heeseung’s bright smile that, in turn, makes you smile too. And now you’re both grinning into each other’s mouths, which causes you to giggle even more. You rest your head on his shoulder, leaving kisses on his neck.

Heeseung pulls you closer to him, and you tell him: “I missed you so badly it was starting to ache.”

“I think, for me, it started to ache when I got into that plane the very first night,” he replies.

perm tag list : @jungwonize @acciomylove @bambisgirl @fleurated

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michimichim · 3 years

Text

in-dee-ca | rosé

disclaimer: dom!fem!poc reader x sub!roseanne, substance use, semi exhibitionism, etc.

improved version

the church bells chime a brassy and insistent sound; an ear-splitting, melody you still struggle to get accustomed to as you leave the bustling building. your friends fall into step with you and together you trudge down the steps of assembly hall, hands in the pockets of your school blazer while they chortle with laughter.

a shiver wracks over your body as the breeze drifts into your hair and frost your cheeks.

“honestly,” it’s one of your closest friends who speaks up, “what does ‘stricter regulations’ even mean? as if the school doesn’t already have a stick up its ass.”

“it means open up your books for once, dipshit.” jennie, a senior and representative on the school board, snides as she brushes past you along some of her friends busy trailing after, hot on her heels.

you bite back a laugh whilst a ruckus of guffaws resonate around your small crowd.

“fuck off, kim.” your friend shouts after her, eyes rolling in nothing but annoyance, however their expression remain soft. they watch jennie’s retreating form before resting their eyes on something behind you. “here comes miss sunshine.” or rather, someone.

you spare a glance over your shoulder, an agitating feeling erupting in the pit of your stomach when your eyes fall on a familiar sight. she's surrounded by a total of three girls, all tittering as they saunter up the steps of the assembly hall. the dark red and blue of the school uniform brings out the peachy color of her skin, singling her out from the small crowd that’s assembled around. picture perfect she is with her plaid skirt hiked up. all pretty, pale thighs and slender legs. eyes naturally veer her way; she always seems to capture everyone’s attention, and it wasn’t solely due to her father being the headmaster, but rather the vivacious and nonpartisan aura she constantly carries around.

roseanne is the epitome of natural beauty. some still whisper about her loose hair and ruddy cheeks, and stout red lips, and lithe slender body that never seems to walk but rather float through the walls. she's perfect in every sense, the type of perfect that draws in boys and girls alike, girls like yourself.

as if sensing the heat of your gaze, her eyes flicker to yours and you stare back, eyes unwavering, challenging her to glance away first with a slight cock to your eyebrow. doe orbs scale down your body – syrupy and casual posture leaning against chilly stairs; it gives you an air of nonchalance – in such swift manner it might have never occurred, but attention from roseanne park could never be forgotten. dulce creamed, dreamy eyed with stars in her nebulas roseanne could never be forgotten. she averts her attention back to her friends.

“what’s it with you and the park girl?” it's someone else that speaks up near you, voice tinged with nothing but curiosity.

you turn to face them; their eyes seem to trickle with a mix of wonder and apprehensiveness.

you shrug in a dismissal manner, “nothing.” you hate denying it, but you learned to be discreet even when the questioning comes from your friends. even when you despised their questioning. even when you despised them for attributing you a role – one that doesn’t include roseanne in it, the golden girl who knows everything, does everything right. you disdain it and so does she.

the conversation lapses into one of silence and your friends say nothing else, some assess you before emitting out a low hum and dropping the topic.

you tune them out, distracted, as your attention returns to her, the latter’s laughing along to something – could be anything, really. it's not hard to get her laughing. you return your gaze to your friends and stand up. “i’ll text you.” you throw over your shoulder, willing an apologetic smile on your lips as you trade down the stoned stairs.

the sun’s seeping through the arched windows, a kaleidoscope of warm and golden light gushing out over your bodies, tangling with roseanne’s blonde locks. the room she pulled you in belongs to an abandoned and obsolete west wing of the school. no one actually comes here; it has been forgotten, gradually, by its founders until room 144 became nothing but a discarded memory. something close yet hidden.

the furniture around you is covered with white silky material, gently flapping from the frigid breeze sipping through the cracked open window.

your hand absently brushes up and down her smooth thigh, drawing arbitrary patterns; she's delicate under the pad of your fingers, a skin so silk angels would exchange for their wings. the hem of her blue plaid skirt is sitting higher than it ought to, her blouse unbuttoned lower than the hall surveillants would ever permit, and between her lithe fingers, something her father would pop a vein over – she’s at her best here with you. your rosie who plays the sweetest of melodies with your heartstrings.

the sound of fluttering pages fills the cracks of the comfortable silence and she shifts, her legs twirling down over your lap, shoes swiftly thrown off and her gaze, unknown to you, flicks towards your face. she calls you by your nickname, head tilted, exposing the slim curve of her neck as she releases a blanket of smoke through the cherry glossed curve of her lips.

“hm?” you hum in response and with one hand, the other effectively occupied with multitasking where they usually reside, turn the page of your book.

a laugh escapes the sheen of her lips. “i'm sensing some sexual tension between you and that book, am i interrupting?”

the side of your face ticks up into a half-grin, warmth infiltrating your ribcage and through your chest. you glance up from your novel, “kinda,” you tease, eyes softening into a warmer hue once they connect with pools of deep, hypnotizing browns. “mind giving us a moment?”

“ha. ha." the corner of her lips curve upwards, sarcastic, as she removes the blunt from her parted lips. she sits up and slide over the wooden floor, much closer to you and the substantial, sweet floral aroma of her jasmine and basil fragrance mingles with the herbal scent of weed as she hands the joint over.

“your mother was the one to assign this to me, you know.” you slump your weight against the soft beige wall, holding the blunt between your lips, before taking a drag out of it, inhaling, holding and releasing it through parted lips.

“of course she did,” roseanne replies, vexation beneath the delicate pastel shade of her words. you abstain from calling attention to it because here, golden girls like roseanne shouldn't feel anything synonym to anguish. golden girls like roseanne have everything, so why would there ever be a fold between her brows? here, golden, beautiful girl roseanne never has anything but euphonious laughter.

but the glint of sport in her eyes never wavers, so casting the book aside, you resort to laying a comforting hand on her thigh because you know the golden girl with saccharine smiles, the one who evoke tropical storms in your chest is solid bones and perfect imperfections in a sea of deceptive beings.

“what’s it about?” she adds, her fingers stringing with yours as the syllables overflow on her smiling lips. her smile, all-too-familiar, whirs something up your spine and her touch seems to burn into your palm, through the cracks of your fingers.

you take a drag, holding it until it burns, and pass it back to her, “charles duhigg,” your hands never part as you reply, a blanket of smoke slipping out. “the science behind habit, creation and reformation.”

“so, tell me,” she quips, rustling, inching closer, all hot breath and intoxicating perfume, the tip of her ears crimsoning when you maintain eye contact, “would you rather kiss charles duhigg or, me?”

"roseanne," you taunt good-naturedly, a laugh looming around to waver your lips. "are you jealous of a forty-something-year-old?"

you follow her eyes fluttering down to your lips, sharp and wanton. she breathes in another hit then says, "can you blame me for wanting all the attention?"

she wraps her lips around the opaque blunt once more, the scene arbitrarily sinful but then, rather than inhaling it, she cradles your jaw and hovers your lips. exhaling her breath into your willing mouth; it's undoubtedly one of the hottest things you’ve ever witnessed, and if possible, it heightens the smoke wafting in your gut with a coiling warmth.

“there’s no way i can blame you when you’re pulling shit like this.” you breathe out, slightly dazed from the smoke or her. you don’t really know.

“i know,” she whispers, several beats too late, breath ghosting atop your lips until they’re meeting in a smooth plash of lips, fluttering lashes and warm breaths.

the second roseanne’s tongue presses into your mouth, light and pliant and sweet-tasting of hot chocolate, imbued with the smoky aftertaste, you float through a state of euphoria. your hands linger down to the soft curve of her ass, squeezing. you can’t resist the urge, sticking a resounding slap on the round of her ass, loving the surprised moan that’s torn out of her.

she captures your bottom lip into her mouth, teeth toying with the flesh and something about that is thoroughly gratifying to you, as is her quiet pant against your mouth when you draw away – dizzy from lungs running out of air, she pecks your lips a final time before shifting back.

she sinks herself comfortably between your legs again, perched on your lap while you continue passing the second joint back and forth. as it shortens in size, you grow more physical. your hand never leaves her ass, ghosting over the silken lace of her underwear. roseanne is not far off; she sighs under every single one of your touches, hands threading down through the collar of your shirt, nails roaming up and down your back, scratching lightly at the plains of your shoulder blades.

you take two to four more hits, you think, you’re not too sure. you've lost count because now the haziness in your head is growing stronger, the sounds are softly intertwining with themselves that you have to haul her closer by the waist as to anchor yourself and think.

“you think,” you clear your throat, trying to swallow down the dryness. “you think we could order something to eat?”

roseanne turns her head languidly from the tiny spirals of smoke wafting in the air, her eyes fleeting to yours following a couple of seconds. she peeps at you, “mmhm," she utters. "i guess. well, yeah, it would make sense ... right?" and she titters.

after holding a straight face and retaining the roach (that you still haven’t noticed has been extinguished) for a few moments, contemplating, “rosie,” you let out a stifled laugh suddenly, like a blend between a snort and a chortle. “you really think the delivery guy, like, the car … can get up here?”

your bones feel weightless. like you’re soaring, there's nowhere else you'd rather be, and every bone in your body is at ease for the first time today. roseanne shakes with gentle laughter, cradling the scrap of the joint in her hands like religion and setting it aside, next to your knees.

she clumsily knocks the ashtray over, cursing. it's too endearing, you can’t help but mirror her accent, giggling when she pouts and steady herself from falling as you dissolve into a weed-induced puddle of laughter, stomach shaking, fighting a new hurricane of giggles herself. you just have a way of imitating her accent that is almost uncanny.

“asshole,” she leans her body into yours, pressing your chests together, feeling yours lift against hers. she then stretches her hand to descend the tip of her nail down your collar.

“your one and only.” you drawl, drawing in a long, faint breath.

the warmth hasn’t left your body still, it seems to be making its way from your chest to the rest of your being. you tip your head back so it’s resting on the back of the furniture, eyes lazily drifting over to the window. outside, the sky is clear, a stunning tone of cantaloupe, the sun about sitting so low in the sky it dazzles you through the clefts of the buildings and canopy of trees. this place has become your favorite; it’s all just so peaceful and beautiful here, away from the day-to-day activities.

you're feeling the floor below you stir like you’re in one of those massage chairs at the mall, combating the inexpressible comfort of roseanne’s weight on you and the sudden mass of your eyes – it wouldn’t be the first time you fall asleep right after smoking. usually, you'd instantly pass out to the steadfast rise and fall of her heartbeat, and she’d follow suit, curling in on herself against your chest.

“this weed is,” the sway of her voice brings you back from your daydream, “wow.”

picking your head up and letting the blood rush back down your neck, your brow ridges and you shift, sitting upright and inching closer to gaze into her eyes – they’ve turned a reddish hue, heavy-lidded, but as breath-taking as ever with pools of deep, mesmerizing, mocha brown, and you say, “well, it’s definitely hitting.”

you're becoming increasingly conscious of her nail gliding lower between the top buttons of your white buttoned-up shirt – you don’t recollect exactly when they’ve been popped open, but you don’t have it in you to think long and hard about it. the finger’s tracing the dark bites that have been pressed against the soft mahogany flesh of your skin, progressive shivers creeping up your spine.

“babe,” she whispers, and it’s the lilt of her voice that makes you glance up at her. when exactly did she pick the blunt back up? the shape her lips make to get those flawless smog rings remind you of the other instances when her mouth’s carved similarly – it’s when she first wraps her lips on your thumb and she teases, tongue swirling around the digit, just playing, taunting. she'd push it in and out of her mouth with suction and with her tongue, she’d bob her head, maintaining your eyes locked through the ordeal. knowing all too well that she's gorgeous with your fingers in her mouth.

“you’re okay to keep going?” she questions, moaning when you bunch her skirt up to press your hands back on the soft, small plump of her ass; they fill both of your hands, moulding back against your palms. you land a kiss on the sweet, red blossomed apple of her cheeks.

“how can i refuse when i’ve been eyeing this ass all day long,” you murmur, running a hand up, snapping the waistband against her skin.

that’s all she needs to press her lips against yours.

you lose yourself completely in how thoroughly your lips effortlessly glide against each other, it turns sweeter, cotton candidly sweeter. then lustful and something entirely more celestial. it could just be the weed accentuating the brush of roseanne’s tongue against yours but you know it would feel almost as good when sober, or even better – you’re not quite sure, each time always feels different than the last.

“rosie,” you ripple against her lips and she hums, moans mingling for a few moments, your hands gripping up the juts of her waist as she detaches from your lips to start mouthing at the junction of your neck and jaw, teeth scouring down your throat.

she grips, getting a fistful of your shirt in one hand with the other curving within the heated skin at the base of your neck. your bodies are so close, warm, and she wants to look at you but she’s in some kind of stage where all she aches to do is let her lashes wave shut, so that’s what she does along driving her hips instinctively down against your thigh.

even through all the layers of clothing between you, you can feel the wetness sliding through the flimsy fabric of her underwear on your bare thigh; the delicious friction of against each other.

your hands part from her hips to shed your school blazer instead, and roseanne opens her eyes to unbutton her shirt as you grab at yours, unceremoniously yanking it out of your skirt and sliding your palm up the delicate valley of her stomach. hand sliding up further still, you’re cupping, kneading her breasts, bringing an exceptional churning in her gut when one of your thumbs stroke her nipple through the lace. it's off with a quick push of your fingers.

she stretches out her stomach, feline-like, curves her back and chest out, granting you the sight of her petite breasts as she swivels back and forth back along the length of your thigh. “touch me,” she coos, “please, baby.”

“touch you,” you reiterate, finger tracing the outline of the damp spot lining up her labia. she pushes up her knees to raise herself only the slightest bit higher, “here?” she whines as your touch makes her nerves jump, stroking her lips slowly through the cloth, hoping to further drive her out of her mind.

slipping your fingers into the hem of her panties, the cloth clings against her sex until you push back against it. you shuffle a little so that you could capture her nipples between your teeth, sucking on the bud. her entire body tenses above yours, arms wrapping around your neck, cradling your head closer to her chest.

slick is smearing all over your panties, merely from relishing her like she’s a fucking gift from the gods, preening when her hands quaintly smooth over the back of your neck and your fingers play, lazily and easily through her lips.

she gasps against your ear as your fingers run over her entrance, pressing and teasing, slow and calculated, sliding in the slightest so rose could feel the webbing of your fingers just barely inside of her.

a final tug on her reddened nipple, you withdraw your fingers.

without notice, roseanne’s vision tilts, and she finds herself yelping with her back on the polished, wooden floor with your body hovering hers and a dopey smile adorning your lips. her focus narrows into the manner your eyes dilate – lust and the effects of weed in them. “was that … indica?” you ask, a childlike nature to your voice while sliding her panties down her legs, then yours. you drop them near and kneel before her.

“i don’t –” she cuts herself, contemplating the fleeting body-warming euphoria that expands through melting and blissful relaxation. “mhm.” she titters, letting the word draw itself out slowly.

she gives you that look – peering up at you, heavy eyes open and telling as she spreads her legs, revealing parted, wet lips, swollen and pink from what feels like hours of teasing. you stare longingly, pupils blown, squirming and urging to get your mouth to taste her.

you dip down. roseanne feels the warmth of your breath, and then the first hot touch of your tongue on sensitive skin. she breathes out, tilts her hips up against your mouth, so you move the muscle brusquely, forward at an angle that catches at every lap.

you’re ridiculously skilled at this; seriously, no one, not even her fingers, knows her body as you do. no one else makes the pleasure overtake her mind as you do, as you flick your tongue and suck on her clit, thoroughly enjoying the way her sweet, even as a salty mix dribbles down your tongue. you're murmuring what sounds like appreciative, sugary words that roseanne can’t entirely make out, she succumbs in the soothing oscillations of it, punctuated by the intervals when you prob and poke with the tip of your tongue. she pushes back into it, chasing the feeling of that tongue gently opening her up, exploring for more.

then, still feeling quite indolent and mellow, you're nonetheless agile to move, sliding roseanne’s long legs over your shoulders. and with a quick mewl and purr tumbling out of you, you grasp her skirt in the balls of your fist and shove it up her stomach, then gather yours to situate yourself over her glistening lips. the first thrust is everything. she had sealed her eyelids shut again, laid back down and gone docile, allowing you to rut freely against her like – contented with being handled however you like. but when her hips roll up to press back against yours, it startles a moan from you, the sensation of it making both of your bodies sigh.

there's a certain rush; like the one you get when you’re veering the wheels of your bike for the first time, or the one where you’re getting away with something you should not have. this rush is the one currently coursing through your veins, a rush of want that floods through you, feeling almost surreal, rendering you lightheaded. you're almost, almost worried something else was laced in the blunt, but roseanne’s pussy proves powerful for it gently coaxes you out of your anxiety-inducing thoughts.

they're gone with each thrust sending her body forward. you can’t help speeding and hardening the rolls of your hips in quiet appreciation. each jolt makes her whine and thrill— you have to grit your teeth to not reach your high before hers, intent on coming at the same time. you grind harder onto her, make her feel each thrust— no area of her core left untouched.

“you look so beautiful, rosie,” you lick your lips, the feeling jubilant. past rapturous you can hardly finish your sentence. "and warm, you’re so fucking warm.”

chest heaving, her throat’s enticingly on display and you think of wrapping your hands around it to feel the pounding of her pulse – it beats against your fingers, singing in no particular rhythm. but it remains a sound you wouldn’t mind feeling and listening to, over and over again.

you rub harder into the body lying beneath you, brutal and animalistic, carnal taking up your nature to feel more. the space between your bodies is so wet and she might be unbelievably tight, you regret not doing this at your place so you could fuck the living out of her with one of your straps.

“—fuck,” you hear her gasping, her nails drilling into the hand wrapped around her neck, “keep going, don’t stop—”

the wet sounds of your flesh meeting, the grip on her hipbone and your hand roaming all over her body every time you buck against her clit, hard and faster —the more you can’t take your eyes away from the jiggle of her breasts. you stroke your thumb up and down, feeling out the little lump of her thin nipple and her mouth opens in mid-gasp, grasping your ass when her hips give out, lazing prone on the cold wooden floor of the room as your body blankets over hers. your hips don't stop thrusting.

you're rendered voiceless and utterly reckless, letting natural reactions taking over. the sparkle in your eyes burn for a split-second, then a gut-wrenching moan, cut from deep inside you. roseanne throws her head back, returns travelling on her series of heresies, combined with a bit of praise in the mix. “god, babe, right there … mmm—my fucking god,” she cuts herself off as you almost effortlessly pin her hips down, not enough to hurt, but more in a show of dominance.

and the release that hits you just never fucking ends; it comes in waves. sober, you’d be surprised at how quick you’ve come, losing your thread altogether, but it only takes four long, premeditated but frantic rolls for you to send yourself in a complete state of a body awakening – it's almost too much to move any more than just the bare minimum – two more to enhance the sensations for both you and roseanne, the latter’s body reacting before her mind could race to a conclusion. her eyes flow open, hands scrambling to clutch your asscheeks tighter when she feels herself pulsing, thrumming and seeing white behind her lids.

“holy -”

“fuck.” you finish for her, elbows coming down on either side of her head, so close to collapsing if it wasn’t for the way roseanne’s staring up at you. it's the look of admiration she always gives you when you’ve fucked her just right.

you kiss down her body – but not without a little slap on her ass. as you lay pecks on her thighs, kiss bruises and marks onto them, you bite and nibble on them, clit twitching at the familiar scent of her dripping heat. it just has that thing that makes you delirious, like alcohol. you give a tentative lick.

she jerks from over-sensitivity, while her cunt throbs for what is to ensue. walls stretching to accommodate the length and thickness of your fingers slowly entering her, lewd sounds and heat licking deep through her chest. you dip the second digit in earnest, your burning touch only seems to make her core burn with greater need.

then, in the spirit of simply breaking her, you find her g-spot easily, ramming your fingers into it repeatedly with faultless confidence before pulling away.

roseanne clenches, whining at the emptiness. being filled just a few seconds ago to feeling friction, to her walls abruptly empty. the pressure inside of her gone, she squirms around trying to find your finger to sink back into her body. she moans, then tries again when all she receives is a giggle, hearing the teasing in your voice, but not possessing the patience to deal with it right now

... “daddy, please.”

it comes out breathy —imploring and wanton and you almost shake in rapture.

“you know i love it when you call me that, rosie,” you come up to murmur against the shell of her ear, words dripping an avid rush of honey. it repels any form of weed-produced laziness that’s taken ahold of your limbs.

roseanne guides your hand back towards her entrance, gripping down so you can’t move away from her – except, she knows it wouldn’t take much to overpower her, but she does it anyway. she feels the plush push against her walls, then you’re slowly filling her again, setting her nerves ablaze and she let herself cry your name, light curses, whatever comes through her mind out as you rub the spot that makes her toes curl.

you're gradually lured into snapping your hand, just to wallow in the release of breathy sighs and cries of ‘daddy’ in the crook of your neck that leaves the blonde’s lips every time you force the sound out of her.

you press your body flush against her form and writhe your fingers in a single-minded purpose inside her dripping entrance. you lick at her pounding pulse and plunge deeper in to make it soar higher and faster than weed ever could. she presses her hands into your shoulders, digging half-crescents into the fragile texture of your skin; clutching for more of your warmth against her.

with the windows open, people could definitely hear the mundane debauchery taking place right up inside the building. but she simply can’t hold in her moans, despite her best attempts at deadening them.

body unfurling, as your prodding fingers slides out at her entrance, pressing harder and harder until they slip back inside to hook deeper into her warmth — she sighs and throws her head back, body moving, torso arched, light nipples on opaque skin scrounging for your tongue. however, you’re pre-occupied with sliding in and out of her, kissing the pretty gasps out of her lips.

your palm hits against her clit each time, her inner muscles beginning to contract and squeeze around your fingers. she's so fucking close, you know it, so before she can start thrashing, you get better leverage. you push one of her legs wider with your knee to get deeper and pump freely inside of her, and the increased volume of her moans send a wave of arousal through you.

the more stimulation to her body causes the buzz to alter in one way or another. her vision is fuzzy as lazy eyes squint up at yours, body like jello that could collapse into a puddle any second. for the briefest instant, it’s almost too much to wrap her head around. it's some sort of fucking extraterrestrial experience, her almost entirely useless brain offers, as it proceeds to liquefy completely, overwhelming orgasm burning down her abdomen like scalding lava, leaving her breathless.

a while later, when the sun’s stopped blossoming in the sky and a blanket of stars have taken the grace of a breeze over your heads, you’re back in your original position – roseanne straddling your waist, buttermilk hair brushing over her breasts, lissome and comely body draped back in her bra and skimpy panties.

she leans down and inches her chin forward so she can seal her lips and mouth over yours. she drags her tongue, asking for permission. the taste of your skin, your perfume and scent of your body is intoxicating. the high’s worn off, now she could get drunk from just having her thighs wrapped and caging around you, kissing you for hours on end.

“hol’ up” then she’s pulling away, before leaning over the side to reach for your bag, procuring a small plastic bag.

you eye her with amusement, “while i don’t mind lighting up another one,” you start, the sweet, nonetheless imposing, concern in your voice is palpable, “grab my sweater first in there.” you nod towards the bag. you've closed the window but the weather is known to seep through bones once blankets of dark clouds had already rolled in.

roseanne smiles and rolls her eyes, dropping to kiss your cheek, then neck, then cheek once more. she has to tear herself away with a fit of laughter when you reach up and get a hand in her milky curls, directing her mouth to yours in a show of biting and toying with the sheen of her lips.

the wool blend of your sweater looks the best on her, it draws down to expose one finely boned shoulder and you wish to paint constellations on the exposed neckline, to dart hot kisses against the silky skin.

you watch, admirably as roseanne uses your abdomen as a workplace to pack the bits of weed into the blunt wrap she had also pulled from your bag. her nimble fingers work everything expertly into a rather attractive roll before bringing the blunt to her lips to lick down the length.

“the joy of roleplay,” she mentions, quite pleased from the attention. “we should do it more often.”

cocoa eyes peek at you from under long lashes before swiftly looking bavk down at her work. “daddy~” she adds.

“christ, rosie, don’t make me take you here again.” you deadpan, embarrassed, looking at her as though she’s meant to understand the gravity of your statement.

roseanne just laughs, conspicuously displaying how perfectly aware she was on the effect of her recurrent use of your ‘nickname’ in the most inappropriate choice of settings and moments.

you slide one hand up, rubbing and massaging the curve of her waist while she soothes down the edges with her fingertips, and grabs the discarded lighter from the floor to light the end up.

“professional,” you chuckle, and wrap your arms around her. she blows smoke halos in your face, bubbled laugh when you playfully gust them away before bringing you into a kiss. she hums as she closes her eyes, and glides her tongue across your bottom lip. “we’re never getting out of here if you keep this up.” your words a breathy pant between grazes of tongues.

“good,” she whispers, connecting your foreheads, unfocused gaze of seductive, glassy-eyed squint burning as she flicks them down to look hungrily at you. “because i'm taking what’s mine until i'm satisfied.”

and you wisely do not voice an objection. one of your last sober thoughts before your skirt’s tugged down your legs.

#blackpink smut #rose smut #kpop smut #sub kpop #gg smut #wlw

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hwrryscherry · 3 years

Text

The one where Harry and Model Y/N go undercover in the internet

characters: HARRYxMODELY/N

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N go undercover on the internet with fake accounts on TikTok and Instagram for an interview for GQ magazine on a video pre Grammys.

word count: 3.3K

HARRYxMODELY/N masterlist

author's note: HI GUYS! This is a request that I received a while ago but only finished it now because of school and all that stuff that I've told y'all a million times. Anyway, I tried my best on this request cause I think I lost my way of writing a little lol but anyway, I hope you like it and I hope that for the ones who misses Harry and Model Y/N this can be a great gift. Love y'all and thank you for the constant support and love on them💜 Stay Safe and Always remember to tpwk and that you're so golden💜💜💜

It was about 3 pm when you and Harry naturally came into the studio set on the building of GQ magazine with tender smiles on your faces covered by masks as you greeted everybody in the room in which there wasn’t many people in it. Harry was dressed in one of the many Gucci shirts he owned, with freshly washed hair that made you smell his pleasant scent from inches away just because he was wearing your favoured one and you'd always recognize it. You also detected the many rings on his fingers, including the one that you had bought for him as a 27th birthday present and by god, he was so thrilled about the ring and had a big smile on his face all day so he felt like he wanted to use it every day. Oh and how good his birthday was. You weren't able to have a party, obviously, but you still managed to celebrate somehow. In the morning, you gave him his favorite breakfast and then he, Gemma and Anne stayed on a zoom call for about an hour. You bought some yellow balloons to put in the living room just to give that birthday vibe and during the night, you had no more than four friends in your LA house, all properly protected and saved. You just ordered a few pizzas and watched some of Harry's favorite movies. It was simple but with an incredible energy, receiving a tiny group around while doing something y'all liked was everything Harry wanted most, mainly because he would have to wake up early the next day to go to the set of "Don't Worry Darling." as they were about to finish filming.

But today was another day. In earlier Febraury, the GQ magazine team reached out to your businessmen with the proposal that you and Harry would record a video together answering questions about your relationship to be published before the Grammys and after you consider whether it would be the best thing to do or not because of the many reactions you could get from it, you both agreed to do it. You’d always try to consider every little possibility when it comes to your and Harry’s relationship as the media can be very mean and disrepecftul.

Instead of Harry, you had a black miniskirt, long sleeve white blouse and a small black blazer with your Fendi plaid boots, which was Harry's personal choice for today as you’ve told him that he could chose an outfit for you to wear. You two spent a few minutes in the makeup chair doing touch-ups on your hair and makeup right before you were both ready to shoot. You walked from the makeup table to the center of the studio where you could see the crew behind the cameras and the big white background with a table and two black chairs right in the center. The table had a computer upon it only. After sitting down and having the microphones popped at you, you looked up when you heard the directors asking if you were ready and when you nod and the count is over, the camera started recording.

‘‘Hi, I'm Harry Styles!'’ You greeted the camera with a big smile on your face, eliciting a laugh from Harry about your unexpected "joke.". Honestly, today was a good day for both of you where you were both in an extremely good mood. Unlike the other days where you were quarantined, you were emotionally untired and in the mood to film and have a small social interaction, which is rare.

‘’And I'm Y/N Y/L/N!'’ Harry said joining in the joke with you and then looking at you as he waited for you to say the rest of the introductory phrase but only realizing you were smiling at the camera without saying anything. '’Y/N!'’ Harry called calmly causing you to turn your head to face him and realize he wanted you to continue instead of continuing himself.

'’Oh sorry, I thought you were going to continue'’ You whispered conspiratorially to him before taking a deep breath and resting your hands on the table when you returned your gaze to the camera. ‘’And we’re gonna go undercover on the internet today!!’’

‘’Yeah, I'm scared!'’ Harry said when opening the laptop that was over the table and turning it on. You sat back in your chair so that you could see the laptop screen clearly and smirked a little when you heard your boyfriend's words.

‘’Hm... Let's do TikTok!'’ Harry said after a few seconds in silence while thinking. Harry's words made you chuckle his words because you knew that Harry doesn't comprehend anything about TikTok and didn't have an account but you both would usually find yourselves in bed watching tiktoks for hours. '’Which username should we put in?'’, Harry asked without taking his eyes off the screen.

‘’You should be! I’ll expose all of your deepest secrets in this video'’ You said while raising your eyebrows in a playful way eliciting a laugh from Harry, one by the way, that he tried hard to sound a little desperate for people watching '’Alright, what should we do first?’’

‘’Put ‘’simp4harry’’ !" You said with a smirk on your lips as Harry let out a nasal laugh but put that username either way.

‘’Okay, but how did you think of that username so fast? I think it’s very creative'’ Harry asked as he finished creating the account.

‘’It's the username I put on everything!'’ You answered as you ran your right hand through your hair.

‘’Oh yes? So is this your Only Fans username?'’ Harry mockingly asked making you laugh and take your eyes off the screen and look at his face.

‘’No, I don't even have an account on Only Fans, for God's sake Styles'’. You answered as mockingly as he did, '’Why? You have one?'’ You asked calmly.

‘’No, I'm a one-woman man!'’ Harry said to cause you to smile convincingly.

'’Can someone get me a bottle of water, please?'’ You asked gently for the people who were on the set and smiled thanking the person who brought you.

‘’Thank you!'’ You answered sounding a little bit shy, even though you’re a public person and listen to compliments quite often, you still don’t know how to react to them. You took a deep breath and raised your eyebrows before using your finger to point to the laptop screen as he opened your tiktok account, ‘’I mean, I don’t even know why I’d be one of the best ones to follow since all I post on tiktok is unnecessary and stupid things that goes through my mind during the day.’’

‘’So inconvenient!'’ Harry whispered playfully. You two had this habit of being sassy to each other, and everyone around you was used to it. This craze started because the first time you guys hang out together in Shanghai, you just talked like you’ve known each other for years and not just five hours.

'’I didn't drink water today, do you want me to be thirsty? I thought you loved me!'’ You used a dramatic tone when speaking before drinking a sip of water.

‘’I did!'’ Harry replied in a low tone finishing logging in the TikTok feed.

‘’What do you mean ''you did''?'’ You answered in a loud tone holding the laugh with Harry.

‘’Okay, focus on TikTok! Focus on TikTok!'’ Harry said with a laugh as you now brought his attention to the screen as well, ‘’Hm, let's look at my girl's account!'’, Harry said as he typed your tiktok username in the search bar. You took a sip of the water in the bottle and put it on the table, ‘’AND by the way, do you guys know that this woman over here was listed by The Cut as one of the best tiktokers to follow today? And I’m so proud’’

‘’Well, I love how you appreciate your talents, love!'’ Harry replied sarcastically with a smirk on his lips making you chuckle. He didn't like it very much when you belittled something you did, even if it was something that was really bad, he didn't like it. Not just with you though, but with all the people in the world. Harry doesn't like it when people don't recognize their worth.

‘’Ok, here’s the first one! I’ll be reacting to it!'’ Harry spoke in a playful tone while clicking on the video as he knew very well it was not a react video but to answer questions. Harry clicked on the first video, this time you were propped up with your face close to the camera with folded arms dubbed to the sound that was in the background. You then take the transparent glasses pulled over the beige in a matter of color that was in front of you on the table and put them under your eyes never failing to dub the song. Then you move away from the camera and can see you are wearing leggings and a sweatshirt. And then you take your Louis Vuitton Coussin PM silver bag and place it on your shoulder before the video ends ‘’Alright, so on this video you don’t do anything else than mimicking to the song.’’

‘’No, but like, seriously!'’ You complemented. '’We’ll watch some of them, and you’ll see how silly they are!

‘’I know that’s why I said that it stupid!'’ You exclaimed as you crossed your arms on the table. ‘’Let’s see the comments'’ You, yourself clicked on the comments area with your hand before Harry did and observed as comments poped up.

‘’Ok so the user @username1 asked ‘’How does it feel being the coolest person ever’’, tell me Y/N, how does it feel like?'’ Harry asked with a smirk to you as he turned his head to encounter your face with raised eyebrows.

‘’Oh, it feels so nice!'’ You responded in a playful tone causing both of you to laugh at your conviction, even though you knew it was a teasing tone and not narcissistic ‘’Everybody knows I’m like, the coolest person alive so...'’ You convincingly said running your hand through a few strands of your hair and then take a deep breath and put a lock of hair behind your ear. ‘’No, I’m just kidding. I’m not cool everyday, honestly there are days that I’m the most annoying person ever so I definetely have my good and bad days.’’

‘’Oh and those annoying moments'’ Harry said in an ironic tone, letting out a dramatic sigh causing you to frown and slightly open your mouth as an offense while holding your laughter as you exclaimed a loud '' excuse me?’‘ as an answer. Harry returned his attention to the comments on the screen again and frowned and brought his face slightly closer to the screen to read ‘’Okay so @username2 asked ‘’new trend: are you engaged?’’. No guys are not. We’ve never been engaged.’’

‘’I feel like we’ve been engaged since 2017!'’ You said sarcastically remembering all the rumors about engagement, babies and dating. Since the first time you has met there were rumors, thousands of them, all the time but you and Harry chose not to comment on them as it would just be a big waste of time.

‘’Exactly and we weren’t even dating in 2017!'’ Harry complemented by looking away from the camera at his nodded face. '’But anyway...’’ Harry said taking a deep breath '’I love how random your tiktok actually is!’’

"I know! I am planning a whole video to film on Grammys day because I'm in love with my outfit and i’m so excited for it!" You said changing the subject but being excited about the idea. After the announcement of nominations and with all the excitement you felt for Harry, you agreed you would attend the Grammys together; it was something important because not only was he running for three awards but also because you never attended any events side by side, except at the 2019 Met Gala. Then the pressures would increase but Harry knew it would be so much easier if he had you there with him. Because whether or not he took the awards home, he knew you were there and he would be grateful for at least being nominated for sure.

"Wait, which outfit did you pick? " Harry asked as he left the tiktok site on the laptop and entered Instagram. Harry selected searched for the hashtag of both of your names as a ship name on the explorer, so it would be easier to find what both of you wanted. "You showed me three different outfits but didn’t told me which one you chose!"

"Oh, I choose the black Prada one!" You answered calmly. Harry stopped using the laptop and turned his head quickly to face his face causing you to look surprised and confused at him due to your reaction. It was his favorite outfit from the three that you had shown to him. "What?I wanna look great before you win your first award and I start ugly crying."

"Oh my god, you’re probably more excited than me." Harry said turning his attention back to the laptop screen.

"Of course I am, I cannot wait to walk around telling people that my boyfriend is not only a three times grammy nominated but a grammy winner!" You answered as you grabbed the water bottle that you had previously asked and drinking a sip.

"Anyway, let’s see!" Harry said as he started searching through the hashtag posts, also drawing his attention to the same screen. You then see a post that catches your eye and points it so that Harry can click. The post was a picture of Harry on the Met Gala carpet with ‘’Harry pierced his own ear for the Met Gala with a needle’’ written on it. "Ok, that’s true! But, now ask me why I had to pierce my own ear?!" He asked ironically, as if he were playing a trick on you, because he knew very well you had a mini argument that day since you refused to pierce his ear with the fricking needle.

"I told you I wouldn’t do it! Do you even have any idea of how dangerous that was?" You replied right after rolling your eyes, but your tone of voice remained calm and you didn't get heated when you spoke. "You know you need to sterilize, right? And what if you had caught an infection? Do you really think I was going to do that? You're an adult. I can't stop you, but I wasn't going to pierce your ear."

"Hey, hey, hey!" He said causing you to stop talking and look at him. Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at you with a smirk before speaking. "The thing is: I really wanted to pierce my ear, and we wear finishing getting ready in New York. I asked Y/N if she had a needle. Neither her and Alessandro wanted to do it. Literally no one wanted to do it but I was very much decided so I did it myself and my ear is completely fine by the way" Harry said the last part making you roll your eyes again while looking at the camera and take a deep breath.

"Anyway..." You said as you dived back into the posts. In one of them you read someone saying in a comment that you and Harry would probably never fight. "Here, this one says ‘’I feel like they’re the type of couple that never fights and when they do, the fight lasts for 30 seconds’’".

"Absolutely untrue!" Harry said almost that immidiately while you nodded agreeing with him.

"Guys, every couple in the world argues. It’s natural, it’s not because we don’t have big arguments and talk shit about each other on the internet that we don’t have conflicts or understatement" You explained. You and Harry are really compatible, but you still have your moments and it’s important to recognize it. No relationship is perfect and disagreeing on things is absolutely understandable.

"Yeah, specially ‘cause we’re different people that come from different places and had different experiences. As long as the disagreements are not causing you serious mental and emotional harm is normal" Harry complemented your thought. It’s important to notice when a relationship is not making you feel good anymore. If your unhappy for any reason is important to leave and to search for help if needed. "See, if you could change anything in our relationship, what would it be?" Harry asked making you pay attention to his words and face as you thought attentively in silence for a few seconds.

"I think I would probably change the fact that we’re usually really far away from each other!" You said calmly while looking at him. "Like, you’re always travelling and so I am, so I feel like it can get hard sometimes because of that and I’d definitely would change that if I could do it without like, changing our whole careers and lives."

"Yeah, I’d probably change that as well!" Harry agreed nodding to you as he was thinking as well. "I’m very grateful for quarantine on that point because we could spend more time together without being so long apart from each other. Of course I wish it was on different situations but I’m grateful for that" Harry said and you could understand that completely. You and Harry had been dating since 2018 and had spend months apart from each other and only you both truly knew how hard it could get sometimes, specially when you had the whole world to judge both of you.

"I fully understand it! Sometimes I think about everyone who spent this past year alone, and I’m really grateful for having you with me...LIke, you’re my best friend, you know this" You said looking at Harry’s face. He had a growing tender smile on his face that was starting to make you nervous and emotional on the same time as you remembered the past year. You felt your eyes getting wet and let out a chuckle looking away from his gaze. "I’m getting emotional! It’s all about my cancer rising today!"

"Oh sure, it’s always zodiac’s fault!" Harry said laughing and then looking at the screen and the crew on the backstage while gesturing with his hands. "That’s probably one thing about Y/N that you guys don’t know. She fully believes on zodiac signs and those stuffs. Actually, there was one time when she told me that we couldn’t be together because our signs were incompatible."

"Okay but like, Harry is an Aquarius and I’m a Taurus. We are incompatible when it comes to zodiac signs!" You said between giggles as you tried justifying your point even though Harry knew you were joking when you said that to him. He didn’t know at the time though he was very much surprised and scared when you said it.

"But anyway, I’m glad that we spend this time together. It’s been weird and funny at the same time like the spaghetti day!" Harry said holding his giggles as he watched your eyes widen because you knew exactly what he was talking about.

"NO, we're not talking about this!" You talked fastly while laughing at the same time as Harry as you both remembered that one night in quarantine when a spaghetti night went completely wrong and he came on the kitchen to see you and a kitchen with spaghetti and tomato sauce all over the floor and the walls and how you cried to convince him to clean the whole kitchen alone and failed. "Ok, let's finish the video here before things are leaked!" You said giggling.

"Alright, this was very nice. Thank you GQ for having us and I hope we weren't the worst guests you've ever had!" Harry said joking even though you both knew that it was quite hard to be very open in the media specially about your relationship but you tried your hardest.

"Don't forget to watch Harry peform on Grammys on sunday!" You said.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader

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thevintagetee · 2 years

Text

Chapter Five: Chaos

Fifth Chapter of My Lethal Liability Fic

Warnings:

Mentions of drugging, ableism, blood, gore, side character death.

After taking an agonizing short shower, since you didn't want to be rude and waste their water, you combed your hands through your hair and put your shower supplies that you packed with you back in the ziplock bag it came from. A sigh escaped your lips as you took in the figure in the lightly steamed mirror in front of you. A large black shirt and some plaid pants covered your body, with some black socks to match.

You dried your hair in your towel that you had brought with you and gathered up the rest of your belongings- casting one more glance over the old styled bathroom case you had missed anything. It had white tile floors that were tinted a yellowish color- not from grime or dirt but rather from age. The tub-shower combo was also white- with a beige shower curtain that separated it from the rest of the small bathroom.

Unsurprisingly- the toilet was old as well, those odd circular ones that felt weird when you sat down on them, with a beige matt at the foot of it. There were more old photos and paintings on the old wooden walls which at some point must have been painted tan- but that was gone now, only small spots of peeling paint remained. The sink was suffering from the same type of wear as it was just a ceramic bowl with a spout- the body of it wooden yet covered with specks of old white paint. Next to the faucet lay a cup with a couple of toothbrushes in it, some half used toothpaste laid haphazardly next to it, and a rusty soap dispenser.

After cleaning up any messes you made, you exited the bathroom with a content sigh- glad that you were able to avoid having to come in contact with the group you were previously with. You glanced at the door that led to the room that they were staying at, as it was right next to the bathroom, and paused a few steps away from it- waiting until you made sure you heard nothing from the other side of it before you sneaked past it and down the stairs. Your dirty clothes were wrapped in a white plastic bag that you had brought with you and you couldn't help but wonder if Mrs. Mae would let you clean your clothes later as well. It had been a while and you were running out of clean clothes to wear anyway.

When you reached the bottom step you peaked your head into the dining room but saw no one was there. Another content sigh left your lips as you trudged over to the couch in the living room- a tired smile on your face as it too was deserted. You hummed to yourself as you put the rest of your things in your suitcase and plopped down on the couch face first- letting a relieved groan escape from you as you collided with the soft cushions. After shuffling around, you noticed a pillow and some blankets were already laid out for you, and without second thought you decided to get some sleep before dinner was announced.

~ ~ ~

A small hand shook your shoulder gently and you opened your eyes in a groan- turning to see Luda Mae smiling down at you. “Well you must've been tired.” She smiled, backing up to let you sit up and stretch. “You slept through most of clinkin’ and clankin’ in the kitchen made from me and that girly Desiree.” She chuckled as you rubbed your eyes to get rid of any remaining grogginess and looked at her- still very much half asleep. And habitually, your hands went to smooth down your hair- which never stayed in place when you slept and always decided to defy gravity when you woke.

“Hell, you even slept through me callin for everyone to come and sit down for dinner.” Luda giggled to herself once more and only then did you hear the shuffling from around the house. Footsteps from upstairs, the front and back door opening- and some unintelligible grumbling coming from further away…. probably from that old sheriff.

“I slept through helping with the rest of dinner?!” You gasped, the tight grip of slumber now leaving as you saw the dinner table slowly begin to fill up, catching the glances of the men as you did so. “Oh Mrs. I'm so sorry I didn't-” A finger was held up in front of your lips to silence you. The sudden finger being thrust in front of your face caught your attention, and you focused on the digit that was mere centimeters away from your lips- looking back up to her with wide eyes. “Now child,” Luda began with a stern tone. “You obviously needed some sleep. You helped me plenty earlier- it was the other's turn.”

She huffed, resting her hand back at her sides and gestured for you to get up to follow her to the dining table. As you did so you noticed that at some point while you were turned away talking to her Thomas seemed to slip into his seat. Your eyes trailed down to the two empty seats next to Desiree and Aleic- giving them a quick irritated glance but before they could say anything two more sets of footsteps sounded from outside the dining room and the missing couple walked in.

Zach immediately shot a harsh glare to you, one which no one missed...except for the old man in the wheelchair whose name you believed was Monty. His attention was between Lidnsey and Desiree- making the two of them obviously uncomfortable. You made your way to your seat, squeezing in between Luda and Thomas.

Suddenly Hoyt stood up, looking over the rest of the table with stern eyes before beginning to say his prayers. His religious words caused you to shuffle uncomfortably, you weren't too keen on the whole religion thing….but you figured in light of respecting the people that had been nothing but kind to you- you could at least bow your head.

As he spoke a shiver ran down your spine. The way he thanked his god for being able to meet you and this group felt off. Something was hiding behind his words and everyone at the table knew it. It didn't help when he decided to gaze at each of you individually with a smile. When his eyes settled on you, you clenched your hand around your shorts- gripping at the fabric to help calm your nerves. A fleeting spark of regret coursed through you. Perhaps Desiree and Aleic were right….but you shoved that thought to the ground immediately. He was just a creepy old man, nothing more, nothing less.

Once prayer was over, which felt like eternity to you but you knew it was only a minute at most, everyone began to eat. Once again you noticed an odd taste and assumed it was the same mixture as Luda explained before. Of course, Zach’s reaction was broadcasted to the entire table through his facial expressions while the rest just sat in silence.

“What's wrong boy?” The voice of the sheriff interrupted your thoughts and you looked to see him glaring daggers at Zach. “Don't like the cookin’?” Your eyes flickered to Zach, silently praying he wouldnt say anything stupid. “No sir.” You tensed at his response- apparently, your prayers weren’t heard.

“Well then if that's the case why don't you either make something yourself or get out.” The man snapped, standing up and pointing at the door for effect. You blinked at the sheriff in surprise, he sure had a short fuse. You opened your mouth to try and diffuse the situation but Lidnsey spoke instead. “My apologies sir, don't listen to what he’s saying. He doesn't know what he’s talking about.” Zach’s head snapped in Lindsey's direction. “I for one think this tastes lovely.” She paused- taking a spoonful of the food to prove her point, but not doing well to hide her distaste for the flavor of it.

Her response seemed to satisfy the sheriff as he sat back down with a lopsided grin- clearing finding amusement in Lindsey’s reaction. With a sigh you began to relax when you saw Aleic obviously kick Zach under the table. An uncomfortable silence blanketed the table once again- more off-putting than before thanks to Zach- and you just tried your best to ignore it… bouncing your leg to keep you occupied.

A bit more time passed and you were almost finished with your dinner, silently pleading to whatever god listened that the rest of dinner would go by smoothly. It wasn't until when you were almost finished did you realize that your eyes were growing droopy again and suddenly the warm comfy couch seemed to be calling your name once more. Why were you so tired? You had just woken up from a nice nap after all… Perhaps you needed more sleep than you thought.

Before you could linger on those thoughts any further, Zach opened his mouth once more. “So what's with the mask, big guy?” Your head shot up in disbelief, just in time to see Thomas’ eyes narrow and his shoulders tightenen. Obviously, you weren't the only one surprised as Desiree’s mouth fell open.

“Why do you have to wear that while eating? Are you that messed up under the mask or something?”

“Zach!”

Both you, Aleic, and Desiree spat at once while Lidnsey sat quietly. With a quick nervous glance around the table, your throat tightened when you saw the rest of the family glaring at him- gripping their utensils a bit too tightly for your comfort. “What?” The blonde asked, raising his arms up like he did nothing wrong. “It's a question...you can't tell me you guys aren’t wondering either!” He paused to look at his companions before continuing. “Why do you let him walk around like that? Don't the other people in this town think it's weird?” He directed his questions now at the family. As he persisted you could only stare at him with a gaping mouth. What possessed him to be so rude? “It makes him look retar-”

“That's enough.” You growled- pushing out of your seat so roughly that your chair fell backwards and the glasses on the table rattled at the suddenness of your movement. You made your way to Zach and he stood up in response-challenging you to do anything, and fueling your anger. Thomas only took a few seconds to watch before he went to push himself out of his seat to try and stop the situation before it happened. Before you could get to Zach, however, Aleic pulled him back roughly by his arm so he couldn't walk further in your direction. You opened your mouth to shoot an insult at the blonde but Aleic beat you to it- dragging Zach out of the dining room chastising him in hushed tones.

Though your anger was immense and you struggled to keep yourself from going after them, you couldn't help but notice as the two of them seemed to be wobbling in place. You chucked it up to Zach struggling under Aleic’s iron grip and you shook your head. Whatever was happening between the two right now didn't matter. What mattered right now was apologizing to the family. As you ran your hand through your hair to calm yourself down you returned your attention to the people sitting at the table.

For a few moments you didn't know what to say- you just stared into the eyes of Thomas hoping that somehow he could read your mind and therefore hear your unsaid apologies that piled up on top of one another like overfilled wasteyards. Though, after a few seconds you knew you were getting nowhere and wasted no time mustering up an apology for the stranger that you barely knew. “I'm sorry he…I don't know why he…I can’t-” The sound of Lidnsey roughly pushing out from her seat cut you off. You watched as she walked over to where Aleic and Zach were arguing and talked to him in a hushed tone with gritted teeth.

Your eyes caught that of Desiree’s, and you both stared at each other for what felt like hours before you could only look helplessly back to the family. You didn’t know what to say, if you could even say anything at all. “If you want us to leave I’ll be more than happy to pack my stuff and-”

“Its alright dear.” Luda cut you off, and though you were sure she meant to sound sweet there was venom hidden behind her words. So much so, you feared that if you got too close it would uncoil and latch onto you at the smallest of movements…poisoning you before working its way towards the others. Her eyes held a similar story, it felt- though not pointed towards you- that she could kill anyone with the daggers she hid behind her gaze. A mothers rage, you reminded yourself. This was her son. You suppressed a shiver that attempted to run along your spine. A mothers rage was by far the most terrifying…and lucky you…you came with just the right group to prod the bear.

“It's a common reaction to people like us.” She forced a chuckle but it only caused you further discomfort. There was something lurking behind her words. She was angry, that was for sure…but she seemed oddly calm about the whole situation. Too calm for your liking. Nevertheless, you pushed aside your gut feeling and responded. “No ma’am. It's not. I swear when I met them they were the nicest people...I could have never guessed that they were so….” The word got caught in your throat, like you didn't want to admit it. That these were the people you had chose to be with. Instead, you chose a lighter word. “...insensitive.”

“Insensitive?” The sheriff- Hoyt- snapped, pushing up from his seat so harshly it shook the whole table and caused you to fumble backwards. It looked like he was going to say something else, but the sudden movement caused a sharp pain that stabbed in between your eyes. You winced, placing a hand up to the area and shutting your eyes as if that would help with the discomfort. “Y/n... is everything alright?” Luda spoke, though her voice seemed distant and fuzzy, echoing around in your brain as it bounced from one side of your skull to the other. You groaned in response, shutting your eyes harder as you tried to focus. Was this some sort of heat related illness? No...it couldn't be. Sure you were dehydrated but it shouldn't be so delayed.

Hoyt was saying something but you couldn't make it out, and suddenly your hands and legs began to tingle, growing numb and causing you to lose strength momentarily- and suddenly your knees buckled from underneath you. Someone was quick to catch you and hold you up. Luda was speaking again, though you barely could hear her. Her words were no longer comprehensible as it sounded like some sort of distant fuzzy tv audio.“What the hell…” You muttered- finally opening your eyes and watched as your vision shook and pulsated without you moving. The sight made you nauseous, and you clenched your eyes shut once again to try and stop yourself from puking, placing a hand over your eyes for extra umph.

Suddenly there was a thud from upstairs, followed by a few others. “Wha-” You croaked, blinking in confusion as you were unable to finish any thoughts you started. On shaky legs, you went to investigate what was the cause of the sounds but immediately your world began to spin and you absentmindedly grabbed on to the nearest thing you could for support- which so happened to be Thomas’ arm. Was Thomas standing now? When did he get up? “Mrs.Mae?” You muttered. “I don't….” Another wave of fatigue crashed over you. “I think….someone fell…” The others just stared, your words being so slurred together they could no longer understand you as you couldn't them.

If you could, you would hear Luda fretting about how much she poured in your glass.

It felt as if the hand that was stabilizing you, which you were able to make out as Thomas due to its size, tried to gently push you to sit down- but in a fit of determination you took another step to try and figure out what that thud sound was caused by. You confidently took one step, but much to your dismay- you were falling face first to the floor instead and you were too out of it to care. The last thing you remember is being caught midair, hearing Luda order Thomas to take you to her room and then being carried by strong arms up the stairs before you blacked out completely.

~ ~ ~

A chainsaw revving nearby pulled you out of the darkness- causing you to sit up in panic as your fight or flight instincts took control. You went to stand up, hoping to identify where that sound was coming from and if it was any danger to you, but instead you yelped as a harsh throbbing in your head surfaced from the sudden movement and you fell back to the floor on weak legs. Immediately your vision blurred- causing your body to pump out more adrenaline in response to the sudden loss of a sense.

Thinking quickly, your hands searched the wooden floor- fumbling around like a person who lost their glasses as you desperately tried to find something that could help prop yourself up. You blinked your eyes rapidly, hoping that it would help you focus but no matter what you did you couldn't combat the darkness that was crawling into the edges of your vision. Just as you were slipping back into unconsciousness a terrifying scream cut through the air- causing you to snap back to reality.

It was a man’s- the kind of a scream someone had when it was their last try. Their last hope for some sort of savior to burst in and get them. It was gut wrenching, and you could have sworn that it was Zach before some sort of gurgling and muffled chainsaw sounds followed. Wherever that sound was coming from…it was definitely a threat. You would have loved if that sound fueled you to get up and move, but instead it caused you to cover your ears in an attempt to block you from hearing the sounds that you could only link to gore. A panic set in and you began to hyperventilate. What was happening? Where were you? It was so dark you could barely make anything out.

Multiple pairs of footsteps and more shouting pulled you from your thought process and you began to cry. You heard another voice yelling something- it was doused in a heavy country accent, and you could hear as the front door practically splintered from the force that it was opened by. The screaming came from outside now, and though your mind screamed at you to get up and run- you could only shake as you lowered your head to your chest- your hands still covering your ears as you huddled into a ball.

As if you were blessed by some sort of god, the distant sounds all got muffled as darkness overtook your vision and you were thrown into the void once more, your forehead colliding with the wooden floor in a harsh thud as you fell.

It felt like only a short few moments had passed before banging on the door caused you to stir once more. You glanced around the poorly lit room, ignoring the pain pouring from your head, but frowned as your eyes were still refusing to focus. So, instead- you sat there, not understanding what was happening or why you were here. Another thud on the door caused you to jump and scramble back on the wall behind you, the distant sound of gunshots and high pitched screaming from outside seemed to bring back the memories you had just made moments prior.

Looking to the door in fear, you scrambled to get to your feet to block it-not wanting to have to meet anyone that had anything with the outside world. The thuds kept on getting louder and when you couldn't find anything to block the door with you quickly decided to hide behind the bed- curling into a ball on the floor with your back still pressed against the wall- tears beginning to stain your cheeks as you braced yourself for what was about to happen.

A final kick to the door sent it flying inwards- the sound was more than enough to cause you to scream in terror- immediately giving away your hiding spot. You dug your nails into the back of your neck so harshly that your knuckles began to whiten and you could have sworn you felt a warm liquid trickling down from the little intrusions. “Leave me alone!” You sobbed- pressing up to the wall as much as you could, shaking your head and screaming louder as frantic footsteps raced towards you.

Suddenly, your head was pulled back by your hair and a large hand was covering your mouth. You went to scream once more but stopped as you realized it was Aleic, and you watched as Desiree shut the door quickly. An immobilizing horror washed over you as the two of them sported wounds all over their body both deep and shallow. And what was worse? They were drenched in blood. Was it their own? Someone else's? You didn't want to know. Your eyes flickered down to the hand that was covering your mouth and you flinched as it too was covered in the dark red substance- effectively adding you to the quite literal bloodbath.

“Shut up.” Aleic growled- looking around tensely before back down to you. Something was different about him, and you had a feeling that even though you had barely known the man…he was not the same as before. He had seen things. Things that would change him forever. His eyes were like that of a caged animal, terrified but ready to strike at any invitation of possible escape. Those same eyes sported a newfound suspicion..and you realized in terror that it was aimed towards you.

You, who sat there perfectly unharmed- except from the nail wounds that you had just dug into your own neck. “Where the fuck were you?” He hissed, grabbing your hair tighter and moving his hand to roughly grasp your neck- a gasp of surprise left you in response as you could no longer breathe. It was so sudden, the loss of airflow- you could only stare up at him in panic. That apparently wasn't what he wanted.

He pulled you up to your feet by your hair and threw you against the wall- never once losing his grip around your neck. Whatever air you had left was knocked out of you when your back collided with the harsh wood- and suddenly it was like a switch. You couldn't breathe. You were going to die. And suddenly your fingernails, now stained from your own blood, began tearing at whatever they could to free you…but unfortunately the man wouldn't budge. From what he went through tonight, you were nothing. He repeated his question, throwing you against the wall once more but you couldn't respond. Your vision was darkening and you were losing energy.

“Aleic!” You heard Desiree from behind him before he let go of you- causing you to drop down to the floor, gasping for air as you gripped at your neck- fingers shaking uncontrollably as you realized now that you almost died. You pulled them back to see them drenched in blood. Someone else’s blood. If you were in the right mind, you would’ve gagged. “What the hell is wrong with you?” She spat at him before going up to see if you were ok- wincing at the bruises that were already forming on the tender skin underneath the red that stained it.

“Where were you?! I thought he killed you...” She looked at you as Aleic began to move things in front of the door- mumbling something about someone never going think that they went back here. You looked past the girl and towards him. What did he mean? She shook you to get your attention. “He?” You croaked out- moving your now bloodied hand to hold your throbbing head. “What do you mean? Who is ‘he’?”

“What? What does she mean?!” Aleic spat- reciting your own words as he turned to look at you. “While you were god knows where, we were being hunted out there like fucking animals!” His attention turned back to his girlfriend. “Desiree this is a trap- I told you that they were working with them! We need to-”

“Aleic shut up! You’re being too damn loud! He’ll hear us!”

“That doesn't matter! I know he already heard them scream! It's only a matter of time! We need to get out of here!”

“We can’t just leave! We don't know where the rest of the family is!”

You sat there looking between the two of them completely lost, unsure of what to say and quite frankly- you were sure the moment you opened your mouth a cry would come out instead. The distant sound of another gunshot and some shouting caused you all to jump and the pair lowered themselves from the view of the window to avoid being seen. “Aleic I think they were given something. They can't even stand properly.” She paused. “I think they did something to all of our drinks. It’s just like how we could barely move around when we first woke up...but..” She placed a hand on your chin to have you look up at her. You gave her a questioning glance, not understanding that she was looking at your dilated pupils.

“...they drank the most out of all of us.” She finished- seemingly content that your eyes proved her right. “Alright- let's go with that. They were drugged like us. It doesn’t explain why they were locked away in a room. They could’ve left!” He was only met with silence on her part as she watched you place a hand to your head…feeling drowsy once more . “Aleic we need to help them.”

“No!”

“No?!”

“No. I say we leave them here- don't you think it's weird that they happened to cross our path a day before our car broke down? Then miraculously clicked with these freaks?!” He stopped her before she could say anything. “Something isn't right and I'm not risking our lives for someone we barely know.” His expression turned soft and he went to grab Desiree by the shoulders, lifting her back up to her feet so she could look into his eyes. “We lost Zach and that shouting sounded Lidnsey….I….I can't lose you too.”

Desiree only looked at him for a moment, debating something over in her mind before he was shoved back by her. The shove was light but he tripped, causing him to stumble backwards into the dresser up against the closed door. The sound of him colliding with the furniture caused everyone to tense, and you all sat there waiting for a few more moments to listen for any sounds of movement before continuing.

“I can't leave someone like this- it's not right. There are killers out there and you suggest leaving them behind?! They could die here Aleic! And what? You’d let this happen over mere speculation? What the hell is wrong with you?” Desiree’s voice seemed more panicked now, the sound they were making was causing her, and everyone else in the room, to grow jittery.

You let out a pained grunt as Desiree began to lift you up roughly - having your right arm draped across her shoulder for support as she gripped your waist. “Desiree…” Aleic whispered. “Do you even hear yourself?” He choked out, placing a shaking hand on his forehead as he looked at her in disbelief. At this point the man was entirely leaning against the door, needing some form of support for his quivering legs.

“Yes, I do Aleic. I'm not letting anyone die when I could've been here to prevent it. We have to all get out of here and call the police.” She was only met with silence from the man and she sighed before looking at you. You were completely out of it at this point, their words seeming to bounce around in your brain as you struggled to maintain consciousness. Luckily, Desiree shook you slightly everytime it looked like you were about to doze off.

“Fine then. How are we going to get out of here? Do you even see them? We will have to drag them around… Do you know how much that will slow us down? Dez?! It's best to just lea-” Heavy footsteps sounded from outside the door, and before anyone could react the rev of a chainsaw sounded from behind him- you stood there in horror as the metal blade pierced through the door. Aleic only had time to turn his head before the metal pierced his back and worked its way through his chest.

The sight was unreal. The man who was formerly able to walk and talk was now shaking violently around the invasive metal. Blood, guts, and presumably flesh splattered all across you and Desiree. She screamed but you could only stare in horror- the imagery in front of you mesmerizing you like it was some sort of sick ballet…and you couldn't look away in fear of missing what the dancer did next.

Desiree saw your paleing face and moved to turn you so you were safely out of the way from the onslaught of matter now flying towards you. His pained screams only now registered in your mind- the only thing you were able to make out now- but the way his body was shaking left a memory imprinted in your mind forevermore- you were already able to see him perfectly when you closed your eyes.

You could only stand there, frozen in horror as you practically heard the life being sucked from Aleic. Only a few more seconds passed before you had heard silence- and immediately you knew you needed to run. Yet though your brain screamed at you to bolt, your feet stayed glued to the floor- and you began to cry when you realized that you were not moving. No, you couldn’t move.

#thomas hewitt x you #slasher fandom #texas chainsaw massacre #texas chainsaw the beginning #thomas hewitt #slashers #thomas hewitt x reader #thomas hewitt x y/n #slasher x y/n #y/n fanfic #slasher fic #second person pov

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sttngfashion · 3 years

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5.26 and 6.1 - Time’s Arrow

Oh my god. Y’all. It’s a new Fashion It So post. In the year of our Picard 2020. Yes.

For literal years, Charlie and I have been like UGH WE NEED TO DO TIME’S ARROW PARTS 1 AND 2 BUT IT’S JUST SUCH A MONSTER.

Well, I’m doing a complete rewatch of the series with my partner and we just got to these two, so IT IS TIME.

We open in a cave in San Francisco, where Data and Picard are checking something out:

Rent for the cave is $6,000 per month

Showing them around is this guy in a Science Outfit:

He’s ready to go night biking

We’ve seen this look before in both Silicon Avatar and Devil’s Due, and it’s functional, yet cute. Basically a windbreaker in jumpsuit form.

They find a couple of items in the cave, including a pocket watch from 1889 and also:

I left my head in San Francisco

IT’S DATA’S HEAD!!! And it’s been there for FIVE HUNDRED YEARS. What could have caused this? And why is Data’s head so absolutely terrifying?

Is that fondant

This head is, in a word, haunting. The 2020 of heads.

Data and Geordi chat in Ten-Forward about what the presence of Data’s head in the cave means. Data says it means he’s mortal; that someday he will die, and that’s comforting. Spoiler alert: that’s not what it means. But it’s a nice conversation.

Also, Guinan is here!!!

Merlot My God!!

Or maybe: Burgundy-lightful!! Or perhaps: De-Crimson-alize Sex Work!! Okay that last one was a stretch but I really think I missed my calling as a nail polish shade namer.

Anyway, she’s here in her classic look of a pizza-sized hat and a flowing gown/coat/top/robe. The collar here is a little too close to a mock turtleneck for my liking and honestly - this is a little staid for our friend Guinan. I want a TEXTURE or a SWEEP or some WIDE RIBBING or some PLEATS. Don’t worry, though...she will get plenty more later.

Then there’s some plot which frankly we DO NOT HAVE TIME to get into but let’s just say: the away team goes to a planet, there’s a temporal disturbance, and Data ends up here:

Huge mood

Where are we? Or should I say WHEN are we??

Well that old-timey font is a good clue...also the horse

Are we in the Old West land of an off-brand Disneyworld? Are we going to ride something called Large Lightning Mesa Train Tracks? What colorful characters will we meet here?

Winner of 1893’s Mustache Medal

This type of ‘stache is called a Fu Manchu, after the character Dr. Fu Manchu. It’s not...a great look? But it is memorable, which is sometimes enough. He’s also wearing a simple black cap, probably made of silk. He’s keeping it cazh.

So where are we?

SAN FRANCISCO, OPEN YOUR GOLDEN GATE / YOU’LL LET NOBODY WAIT / OUTSIDE YOUR DOOR

Yes, it’s San Francisco. And it’s *eyes popping out of head like a cartoon wolf seeing a busty babe* 1893!!!! That temporal disturbance was...disturbing.

So who else do we have hanging out?

Please check out our Vaudeville act, Knit Cap ‘n’ Bowly

These dudes understand those famous Bay Area MICROCLIMATES, amirite? We’ve got a Henley. We’ve got a buttondown. We’ve got a vest. We’ve got a coat. No matter which way the thermometer decides to go, THEY ARE READY. Also loving the pop of forest green on Knit Cap’s knit cap.

We also have a 49er:

No, it’s not Steve Young. I googled “famous 49ers” to complete this joke so if there is a more famous 49er please let me know

It’s a literal 49er. Since it’s 1893, this guy’s been hanging around in town for a while, and he’s also familiar with the layering techniques one must master if one is to conquer the Bay Area’s climate. He also has a kicky Colonel Sanders-type tie. He asks Data for money and gives him a few panhandling tips. He’s chill. We like him. But don’t get too attached if you know what I mean!!!!

Data decides he needs somewhere to stay, so he finds a hotel:

Brian.

Why is this so funny to me. Brian. Why would you name your hotel Brian. Brian!!!! I know it’s a last name but like...Brian. HOTEL BRIAN.

This bellhop’s name is not Brian:

Where’s your hat, bro

He’s giving us a classic bellhop look, complete with too many buttons. He gives Data the very important information that there’s a poker game happening in the back of the hotel, which means: Data is about to be RICH rich.

The poker game includes a few good looks:

Louie Anderson IS Wolverine IN a Lands’ End barn coat

Two plaids? Sir...I salute you

Colonel Sanders Goes to Carnaval

Data, of course, wipes the floor with them so hard that he wins their clothes:

Didn’t get that barn coat tho

Yes, that’s the actual vest and the actual hat of those guys from the previous scene. Oh, I love it. I love Data in a vest over his uniform and I love Data with a feather in his cap. Let’s call it macaroni.

Meanwhile, out on the street, the plot is happening:

Beige: inescapable

This is our first taste of the decadent 1890’s sleeves that appear in this episode, and these aren’t even the best sleeves!! These are an amuse-bouche of sleeves. An armuse-bouche, if you will.

Anyway, these two are aliens disguised as humans who are here to steal the 49er’s life energy.

Pew pew pew

I told you not to get attached!!!

Back on the Enterprise, Guinan is doing mixology:

She would never call it something as stupid as mixology though

She tells Picard that he needs to go check out the temporal disturbance, too, even though captains don’t normally go on away missions, and then she gives him this look:

It’s that serious

When Guinan looks at you like this, you do what she says.

Now this outfit is much better than the earlier one. We have some pleated sleeves, which I didn’t even think was a thing you could DO. We have some sort of functional(?) strap(??) across the front. We even have matching fingerless gloves which always make a look A LOOK. And if Picard wasn’t sure whether he needed to go on this away mission, she then gives him THIS look:

Okay now it’s REALLY serious

Back in 1893, Data is making something:

It’s actually just a really complicated and large music box that plays “I Left My Head in San Francisco”

He’s gotten his hands on some more period-appropriate clothing, including a bow tie and a vest. Since he’s not wearing arm garters and his sleeves appear to be the correct length for his arms, we can conclude that the shirt was custom-made, not ready-made, because Data is now a baller due to his poker earnings.

Then, Data sees this in the paper:

I know her!! From work!!!!

Yes, it’s Guinan. In 1893. In a hat!!!!

We cut to the literary reception, which is honestly not as well-attended as I thought it would be, considering it got a GIANT photo of Guinan on page THREE of the paper, but okay. And who should we spy there but:

You’ll love my secret blend of 11 herbs and spices

No, it’s not Colonel Sanders. (Sorry, I really have Colonel Sanders on the brain because of that Lifetime movie.) It’s Samuel Clements, AKA Mark Twain. I had an English teacher in high school who explained the origin of his pseudonym (it indicates a mark of two fathoms, aka twelve feet, on a steamboat) and for some reason she shouted MAAAARK TWAAAAAIN when she told us that story so now her delivery of that line is in my head until I die I guess.

Anyway, it’s Mark Twain.

He’s wearing his iconic white linen suit with a black bow tie, and he’s also wearing a lot of prosthetics, because the actor playing him (Jerry Hardin, AKA Deep Throat from The X-Files AKA Melora Hardin AKA Jan Levinson-Gould’s dad) (was that too many AKAs) (you get it, right?) didn’t look enough like Mark Twain, I guess? In conclusion: what if eyebrow wigs were a thing?

Twain is having a chit chat with “Madame Guinan,” who is wearing what can only be called a sumptuous gown:

It’s 11:30 and the gown is sumptin’ sumptin’

There are so many ELEMENTS to this look! First of all: the color. Royal purple. Fit for a queen. Appropriate.

Then: those sleeves! These sleeves are known as “leg of mutton sleeves” because they KIND OF look like a leg of mutton. Have you ever seen a leg of mutton? I haven’t. I’ve only seen these sleeves. Plus they have a stripe?? No, I don’t know why, but I LOVE IT.

The cuffs and the cravat bring this from “dress” to “lewk.” Top it all off with this hat and you have a true 1893 mood.

What bird is that feather even from

We get a few good extra looks in this scene as well:

Pink Lady is NOT wearing a corset

Look, sometimes you don’t have enough period-appropriate undergarments for all the background people and that’s fine. But I WILL notice.

Is that Loretta Lynn

I am loving all of this! That purple dress is fantastic, those stripes? I die. Military man has some fun flair on his shoulder, and there is a dude in a beautiful turban back there. Plus, another Black lady in addition to Guinan and That One Ensign Who Is On The Bridge Sometimes.

Data rolls in to the literary event in a different suit with a CRAVAT:

Craving a cravat

Data is like “we serve together on the same starship in the 24th century” and Guinan is like “huh” but then she’s like “okay” which...I’m not sure if I would believe that? But let’s just say it’s fine.

Over in the 24th century, the literal entire bridge crew is checking out the temporal disturbance and I DON’T LIKE THIS AT ALL:

Blue Man Group...on ACID

These beings are like ghosts but also like Dr. Manhattan but also like pure energy.

Then everyone goes through the temporal disturbance AND THE SEASON ENDS.

Fortunately for you, this post will continue...right now.

Okay, so we’re back in San Francisco in 1893. You can tell by the horses:

Also the fruit carts

Samuel Clemens is strolling around with a reporter, telling him that he has a great story for him that involves time travelers and, like, protecting the nation.

Here’s the thing about this episode’s version of Mark Twain: he’s kind of a dick. Was the real Mark Twain kind of a dick? I just feel like Mark Twain should be JAZZED about meeting time travelers and not acting like a fuckin’ time cop* and trying to put the Enterprise crew on blast.

Anyway I love his double-breasted vest.

See my vest

The reporter’s hat is technically period-accurate, but that style is SO associated with the 1930s-1950s that I would have gone with something else. He looks cute though.

Meanwhile, Data is wearing a three-piece suit:

My positronic olfactory synapses are interpreting something as...a fart

I hate brown, but this is fine.

Additionally, the beige baddies from before are back and this time, they’ve got a SNAKE CANE:

Love the snake cane, hate how they suck the life out of people

But we are not here for them, we are here to see our faves in period clothing. Our first look is at Riker, who is dressed as an actual cop, not a time cop like Mark Twain:

The past just had...so many buttons

I guess if you’re a time-traveling white man there are worse disguises than a cop. But WHERE DID HE GET THIS UNIFORM? I choose to believe that he found a cop with a similar large handsome body to his own and beat the shit out of him and stole his clothes. Now we can all enjoy imagining a cop being beat up.

The badge that Riker is wearing is a great historical detail; the SFPD started wearing them in 1886 and are reportedly the first law enforcement agency to have worn the seven-pointed star, which is now a common shape among sheriff’s departments across the United States.

But let’s move on to a better look: Dr. Beverly Crusher:

Curlz MT

Okay, now I have more questions. Beverly obviously wouldn’t beat someone up for their clothes, so where did SHE get HER outfit? And who did her hair? Did she do her OWN hair? Where did she get a curling iron? Does she know how to use a curling iron? Was it one of those ones that’s actually made of iron that you have to heat up in a fireplace?

We will get answers to zero (0) of these questions.

We actually get a much better look at her dress later, so let’s focus on that cloak!!! I love it and I also love her hat. Okay, I guess I had less to say about those than I thought.

Bev and Will, along with the rest of the officers, have somehow procured a room/apartment in some lady’s lodging house. It’s cute!

They gave it 5 stars on AirBnB

This also raises questions. How did they get this room? How many bedrooms does it have? Are they sharing one large bed? If so, who has to sleep crossways at the foot of the bed and why is it Geordi? We will get zero answers to these questions as well, so let’s move on to arguably the hottest costume in this two-parter:

I’ll be in Holodeck 4

Whewwwwwww. He’s giving us a rolled sleeve. He’s giving us a casual tweed vest. The pants? They’re perfect. And he KNOWS how that slouch is working. It’s working VERY well. But the Irish landlady? She’s having NONE OF IT.

Absolutely NO nonsense

She needs the rent, but Picard charms her and she leaves. So I guess that’s how they got the room. Her look is knitwear-forward:

Eileen Fisher does sound like an Irish name

She’s got a shawl AND a cardigan! The cozy factor is OFF THE CHARTS. She also has a brooch, because a touch of fancy is always welcome. I will say that her hair is a little more fashion-forward than I’d expect for a woman of her age and station. This is straight up 1890s hair, and she would probably still be rocking an 1860s look, which isn’t as sweepy and would likely involve more braids. Still, she looks lovely.

Geordi is also here looking dapper:

Make the collar as high as you can. I want to be sliced open by my own collar

You CAN go wrong with a three-piece suit, but it’s difficult to. He can’t wear his visor, so he has some kicky shades which we’ll get a better look at in a sec.

Back at the Hotel Brian (lol), the bellboy (who we learn in this scene is Jack London, inspired to be a writer by Mark Twain [citation needed]) lets Mark Twain into Data’s room and allows him to look around unsupervised. This is very bad hotel management.

Great Scott

Then Data and Guinan show back up, and Mark Twain hides in an armoire.

One short day in the emerald brocade

I think one reason I love Guinan’s looks so much, both in the 24th and the 19th century, is that our color palette is very similar. We’re both winters. Bold jewel tones are the vibe. This one is in a beautiful deep green fabric with what looks like a velvet flocking pattern on it. The collar is also velvet, and I love that sleeve with a flounce on top like there wasn’t already enough fucking fabric on the sleeve so they just added a random piece to be like “yes, bitch. I’m a sleeve.”

Naturally, the hat is also jaunty af:

San Francisco’s hottest milliner is: Madame Guinan

This hat has everything: feathers, netting, a brim, an angle that makes you think it’s going to fall off but it doesn’t. We stan.

Meanwhile, Picard is setting up a sensor in a hospital while wearing a hat:

I’m bowled over

We haven’t even asked where Picard got these clothes, but I would like to point out that he’s dressed as a lower-class guy, while Riker is a cop, and Geordi looks like a gentleman. Was there even a discussion they all had about how they would disguise themselves? Was Picard like “I just really want to wear a beat-up bowler hat” and since he’s the captain, they extrapolated from there? This episode is NOT CONCERNED about any of this. They all have clothes, end of story.

Bev even has TWO outfits!!

Hello nurse!!!!

I love this look. She still has her unlikely hairstyle happening, which means her nurse’s cap is sitting atop her voluminous hairstyle. (Not very practical, but realistic!) She’s sporting a simple striped dress and a button-on apron. (Look closely and you can see the two buttons holding the apron to the dress.) The fabric underneath might be cotton seersucker, but it’s likely a lightweight cotton or linen twill. You can see how closely her look matches these nurses from a similar time period:

Hello nurses!!!!

Deanna is also in this scene and this episode, but you wouldn’t know it from what she’s given to do. HUGE SHOCKER: TROI NOT GIVEN ENOUGH TO DO IN AN EPISODE. 🙃

She still looks beautiful:

Why aren’t capelets more popular

We never get a really GREAT look at her whole outfit, but I can tell you that it has a capelet, it’s in the red family, and the hat has a lot of business going on. For those reasons: approved. It has a flounce in the back too:

More fabric = more wealth

Sometimes I think about just how much fabric it took to make these old-timey dresses and I’m like...how did anyone get anything done?? It takes me like 4 weeks to finish a pair of leggings and those have like 5 seams and I own a serger. These historical bitches were sewing whole ass dresses in no time at all.

Okay, so Bev is in this hospital and here come some more energy-stealing aliens, disguised as healthcare professionals this time:

I cannot take a medical professional wearing a LIGHT BROWN TOP HAT seriously, sorry

Bev AND this energy-stealing alien have BOTH managed to get their hands on the SAME nurse’s uniform?? I guess in the case of the alien, she is a shape-shifter, so she got her clothes from...that. And her hair.

I hate this light brown top hat. If you’re going to wear a top hat, don’t DISRESPECT IT by making it BROWN, but if you’re going to make it brown, make it a good brown, like chocolate. Stupid energy-stealing aliens.

There’s a skirmish, the energy-stealing aliens disappear, and the real cops show up:

MOUSTACHE

Of course, the cops showing up is bad, because when has a cop showing up ever made a bad situation better? Never. Defund the police, but don’t defund handlebar mustaches. Those can stay.

Fortunately, Data has gotten a ping on that machine he was building before and shows up on a motherfucking HORSE:

Brent just wanted to show off

He’s back in his brown striped suit and red tie. Okay.

Everyone returns to the boarding house to suss out the situation, and we get a look at what Riker is rocking underneath his cop jacket:

Suspend me daddy

You can see very clearly here how the collar is not actually attached to the shirt. This was a thing people in the olden days did so they could wear their shirt for multiple days in a row and just switch out the collar and cuffs so they looked clean. As someone who is wearing the same sweatshirt for the third day in a row, I support this method. (If you’re interested on more info about collars, here is a very enjoyable article about them.)

We are also blessed with a better look at Deanna’s sleeves and bodice:

Black lace cuffs? Decadent!!!

You can also see Geordi’s shades, which suit him really nicely. One thing I’ve been enjoying on this rewatch is just how well LeVar Burton can act without having his eyes visible. He’s great. Let’s just all think about how great LeVar Burton is for a second

And also Bev’s dress:

I legitimately want this dress

I don’t think those buttons are functional. Can you imagine how annoying THAT would be? But I am absolutely in love with this dress. Two paisleys, Beverly???? A goddess. I’m also dying for that brooch with the chain. A+ look all around, great work.

Finally, FINALLY, Guinan meets the rest of the crew:

When you meet someone you won’t actually know for 500 years

She is wearing a hat that looks like a toilet paper cozy. Did your grandma have one of these? They’re so stupid and I love them so much.

Picard and Guinan meet for what is the first time for her, but not the first time for him, and honestly it is...sensual?????

If I got a m’lady from P. Stew I wouldn’t even mind

Patrick and Whoopi truly do some nice work in this ep. But we are here to yell about clothes, so: LOOK AT THIS DRESS ON AN EXTRA:

Gimme dat dress

I just want that dress to wear around my house. I legitimately bought an 18th century costume dress to do just that, so don’t think I won’t literally do this.

OKAY, WE ARE ALMOST TO THE END.

The crew, plus Guinan, go back to the cave where this all started:

Cave Club, the only club that meets in a cave

We get a nice look at the bodice of Guinan’s dress here and guess what: MORE BUTTONS. Buttons on the lapels, and also buttons on the front panel with the pointy top. I wonder if she has multiple front panels for that dress in different colors, like a Swatch watch.

Unbeknownst to them, Mark Twain followed them!! Then there’s a scuffle with the energy-stealing aliens during which a few things happen:

Data’s head flies off

Mark Twain gets sucked into the temporal disturbance

Guinan gets hurt

Picard stays behind to make sure Guinan is okay

So we end up with Mark Twain on the Enterprise, where he sees Worf, and he’s like:

Buh-WHAT

Worf is also confused:

This is...extremely perplexing

We have a few more looks back on the Enterprise, including Regular Guinan:

ShoulderSpreads™: The Bed Spread for Your Shoulders

I love love LOVE this outfit. The color is perfect, the shoulderspreads are perfect, the front draping is perfect. It looks like a velvet housedress from the 1960s except FANCY which is kind of my ideal aesthetic. And it’s red (my fave).

We get a quick glimpse at the barber uniform:

Bitch let me pass, idc if you wrote Huck Finn

This barber does. not. give. a. fuck!!!!

Geordi reattaches Data’s head, the one they already had, which means this whole thing was a ding dang closed loop. The reattachment also kind of diminishes the whole conversation they had earlier about how Data’s head in the cave meant that Data could die someday, because...he didn’t. He still might, but his head is back and he’s fine now.

Meanwhile, Picard is still back in 1893 and they have to go get him, but only one person can come back through the temporal disturbance, so Mark Twain is like “duh I’ll go get him.”

And finally Guinan and Picard can talk about how their friendship spans 500 years!!!!

Hey girl

Hey

YOU’RE WELCOME

*abolish the police

#SEASON 5 #SEASON 6 #TNG #TNG FASHION #STAR TREK #STAR TREK FASHION

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it-was-summer · 3 years

Text

Video Killed The Radio Star- Chapter 7 (Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader)

A/N: thank you all for being patient with me and for reading my series! Happy Sunday to you all and I think that if I update every Sunday it will work out fine! If school gets in the way I will let you all know! Please take care of yourselves and be happy!!

Warnings: Overall fluff, two dorks being dorks, etc.

Plot: Things start to feel better with Spencer around. Spencer and you enjoy a nice spring Saturday and Spencer gets an enticing invitation.

Word Count: 3.1K

It was childish to want to look cute for a friend, a cute friend, but still a friend. You were trying on outfit after outfit, eyes always drifting to the black boot stuck on your leg. In the end, you settled on a simple tee-shirt and jeans combo. You wanted to admit that the tee-shirt didn’t have a slightly low v-neck, and you also wanted to admit that your hair wasn’t a beautiful mess of brush out curls. You were trying your hardest to look both casual and stunning, the way heroines did in romance novels, but the longer you looked in the mirror you felt painfully obvious.

Spencer told you he had the upcoming weekend off, and lucky for him you had another two months off, so it worked out perfectly. You tore your eyes away from your reflection, confidence falling as you stared at the clock propped up on your desk. It was twenty minutes till noon, and you had suggested a near-by cafe.

If you didn’t count the time spent with your mother this would be your first time out of the house since the incident, a shiver caressed your spine. You drew in a calming breath, eyes closing as you exhaled. You didn’t have the mental capacity for a mental breakdown today, you needed him to see that you were fine. Stable.

Your lips turned up in a nervous smile as you limped over to your purse and crutches, trying your best to keep the strap slung over your shoulder. You had called a cab ahead of time, you would’ve walked, but you didn’t want to arrive with sweat dripping down your back.

The cab dropped you off early, giving you ample time to find a place to sit and wait. The wait also gave you plenty of time to silently panic; did this seem like a date? Did you look like you were ready for a date? What if he thought you looked bad? You rubbed your palms against your jeans, sweat clingy to them desperately, so much for the cab ride.

Spencer spotted you before you spotted him, a smile taking over his face immediately, watching as you talked to the waitress with a kind smile. It wasn’t until she was gone that you saw him, waving him over with a loud giggle. Spencer felt a familiar feeling swimming in his chest, the feeling of beating wings, a small gust of wind brought him back. Spencer sat across from you, smiling wide, “Hi,”

A nervous laugh erupted from you, “Hey,” you took in his appearance; messy hair, clean face, beige slacks, and a dark blue sweater-vest. “Blue looks nice on you.” you hear yourself say unexpectedly, surprising yourself and Spencer simultaneously.

“Blue?” Spencer repeats as he looks down at the sweater vest covering his chest, a tiny laugh escaping his lips.

You feel your mouth open against your will, words spewing out, “I don’t know why I said that, I just noticed that your eyes look nice in dark blue, and the sweater-vest is a nice shade of navy,”

“Thank you,” Spencer cuts you off in a gentle tone, eyes meeting yours quickly.

“You’re welcome,” you muttered softly as the waitress made a reappearance. After having a glance at the menu, Spencer ordered a peppermint tea, and you ordered a coffee. As she left the two of you alone, you tilted your head towards the side.

“Is peppermint tea your favorite?”

“I would say it’s in the top three,” Spencer joked lightly, trying to relax under your gaze. Even if the two of you were here just as friends, the way the sunlight was illuminating your hair made Spencer’s throat tighten with anxiety. “It calms me down to drink something nice and,” Spencer noticed how fast he was talking, “Warm. Something nice and warm,” he repeated slower, calming himself down.

You leaned in slightly, “I loved the tea and the book, it was very thoughtful.” you resisted the urge to reach for his hand that was resting on the table, retreating into your seat nervously.

“I’m not a big coffee drinker,” Spencer paused, “Well, actually, I am! I just need the coffee to be extremely sweet.”

“Oh, you’re one of those.” Your voice carried a playful tone as you trailed off.

“One of what?”

“Those people. They need to have cream, sugar, and a dollop of coffee!”

Spencer looked at you, eyes wide, “A dollop?”

“A dollop, yes.”

“That’s the word you’re going to use?”

“Do you have a problem with it, Doctor?” you teased him, tension leaving as you heard Spencer chuckling across the table. The wind blew his hair into his face and you swore you could smell the faint smell of peppermint and aftershave. Your eyes darted towards his lips for a second before the waitress set a cup in front of you. “Oh, thank you.”

Spencer gave a quick thanks to the waitress, eyes staying on you as your cheeks became a tinted pink. You were looking around, eyes never focusing on one thing for too long. Something was making you nervous, and Spencer couldn’t help but feel like he had done something wrong. “Is everything alright?”

You poured a small amount of cream into your coffee with a false smile, heart-pounding inside your chest, “I’m fine,”

“You seem tense,”

“I just had an intrusive thought,” you lied as you stirred in some sugar. You couldn’t tell him about your dreams, the two of you were friends and it was the first time the two of you were together under normal circumstances. You didn’t want to ruin this, you couldn’t ruin this.

Spencer noticed the lie and let it slide as he nodded. He blew on his tea carefully, eyes peeking over the rim to stare at you. When you looked up from your coffee, he simply blocked his vision by taking a sip of his tea. When he brought down his cup, he noticed that you were staring out onto the street. He followed your gaze slowly, children walked hand and hand with their parents, the wind shook budding trees and a couple was kissing on the sidewalk.

“Sorry,” you broke Spencer away from his thought, head turning to look at you. “Sometimes I get distracted,” you explained, the light hue of your cheeks turning a shade darker. Whenever you looked at him, the only thing that you could see was his eyes, his lips. Then all you could think about was how wonderful those lips would feel pressed against yours.

Spencer could feel your eyes on him, he watched as your eyes would dip between his lips and then his eyes, repeating the movement over and over again till he felt his cheeks heating up. He convinced himself that you saw the couple and thought about him for a moment. It wasn’t uncommon for things like that to happen, and the idea of you liking him flew over his head effortlessly.

You took a calming sip of coffee, closing your eyes as you sipped the beverage, letting the warmth of the liquid warm your chest. Once you felt less flustered you opened your eyes slowly, setting down your cup with a tiny sigh. “Spencer,” Spencer’s eyes were already on you “Describe your perfect day,” you demanded gently, hands moving as you spoke.

Spencer let out a chortle, “What?”

“Tell me about your perfect day!” you urged, a tiny giggle escaping you for a second. “Do it Miss United States style,”

“A beauty pageant?”

“A scholarship program according to the movie ‘Miss Congeniality’,” Spencer’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you let out an audible gasp, feeling like a teenager. “Come on! The movie! Sandra Bullock is this F.B.I agent and she has to go undercover!” You explained desperately as Spencer only shook his head ‘no’.

Your hands covered your mouth, hiding the beaming smile on your face as you giggled. “Oh you would hate it,” you teased gently before letting your hands drop back down onto your lap.

“Do you still want me to describe my perfect day?”

“Very much so, yes!” you answered, scooting closer to the edge of your chair.

Spencer nodded a little, looking off to the side as he tried to think. Most of his days were spent chasing after murders, sometimes he wondered if he would ever have a perfect day; a day where he didn’t think about death. He clicked his tongue gently, “ I think it would be a Saturday,” he began, watching as you closed your eyes. He smiled as he continued, “I wouldn’t wake up before the sunrise and I would be able to sleep in, the phone is off, and by ten o’clock I’ve had breakfast.”

You opened one eye, waiting for him to continue, “Spencer, I need more than that.” you declared, closing your eyes once again.

“Fine, fine!” he hummed gently, fingers tapping against the table. “I’m with someone, maybe someone who cares about me?” Spencer questioned himself gently. “We’re not going anywhere, not talking to anyone, we’re just staying inside and watching ‘Doctor Who’.” He said, his cheeks burning as he watches you hold back a sound of adoration.

You open your eyes, clapping your hands together quickly. “I love that!”

“You do?”

“It’s very cute and relaxing. I imagined you in your pajamas, I’m thinking plaid?”

Spencer shook his head in disbelief, laughing with you. As the laughter died down, he decided it was your turn. “Okay, tell me about your perfect day,” he said, leaning forward to rest his head on his hand.

“Mine?” you said, motioning towards yourself quickly. “Well, I pick Saturday for my day as well. It’s wintertime and it’s snowing, not in a crazy blizzard way, but in a calming way. I would probably think about playing in the snow, but the heater would win that battle.” You played with the coffee stirrer, “I would stay inside, most likely watching adaptations of books turned into a film, before giving up and watching some ‘Doctor Who’.” you finished confidently, lifting your head to look back up at Spencer, a giddy smile on his face.

“You said ‘Doctor Who’ because that’s what I said didn’t you?”

“Don’t tell me that you think you’re the only one who watches that show, Spencer.”

“Well, obviously not,”

“Good,”

Spencer sent you a playful glare as you rolled your eyes at him, “You stole my perfect day, Y/N.”

“No, I simply made it better,”

“Sure,” Spencer scoffed as he watched your smile fall into a comfortable grin, feeling his face doing the same.

“Can I ask you another question?”

“No, it’s my turn!” Spencer snapped back at you in a playful tone, biting his lip as he tried to think of a question. “Would you ever want to be famous?”

“Oh, Doctor Reid!” you exclaimed, tapping the rim of your coffee cup as you gave the question some thought. “No, I don’t think I would ever want to be famous.” you paused for a second, “The money would be great and I would like the recognition, but I don’t think I could deal with the paparazzi and all the drama.”

Spencer nodded slowly, agreeing with your reasoning quickly. Spencer would hate the attention and he would hate the dramatics even more. “I couldn’t do it either,”

“But, if you were famous, what would it be for?”

“Hopefully, something intellectual,”

“Like a Nobel prize?”

“Probably,” Spencer watches as you relax in the chair, feeling consciously better that you seem better now. He knew that it could have all been a mask for him, a mask to cover up how you were actually doing. He wore a mask for a while, sometimes the mask would fall and sometimes it would get harder to take off. He knew what it was like to pretend that everything was okay, to pretend that everything was going to be okay. Spencer debated asking how you were for a second, but if you wanted him to know how you were, you would tell him.

You took a long drink from your cup, silently trying to come up with more questions to ask Spencer. You wanted to know more about him, you wanted to be a good friend. Yeah, a good friend. “Are you happy that you’ve got the weekend off?”

Spencer nodded quickly as you set down your cup, “Usually the weekend is paperwork or taken over by another case.”

You bit your lip, mulling over a question, “Do they ever get to you?”

Spencer inhaled slowly, thinking about the best way to answer, “They get to all of us, but it’s the job. It’s not easy and we try our best.” he answered, feeling satisfied as your lips turned up into a gentle smile.

“I can’t help but think that you’re amazing,” you confessed sweetly, cheeks heating up instantly. Spencer could feel heat rush towards his face, feeling very hot all of the sudden. You laughed, trying to cover up your nervous fidgeting, “No, I know that you’re amazing. Especially you, Spencer.”

Spencer felt his mouth go dry, he brought the cup of tea to his lips, trying to remain calm. He wasn’t the best when it came to compliments, he would always find himself rambling and the team would send him a look. People said he was smart and that he was intelligent, but he never heard the word amazing, it didn’t seem like he was amazing. Morgan was amazing, Prentiss and Hotch were amazing, Garcia was incredibly amazing, while Spencer was just … Spencer. “Thank you,” was all he could manage.

Your smile grew, teeth showing, “I can’t express how much you’ve helped me,”

“I didn’t do anything amazing,”

“Spencer, you sent me your favorite tea, and Oscar Wilde, you’re my white knight.” You said, laughing as you watched Spencer’s face grow a noticeable shade of red. You had to admit that he was your savior. He had helped you through the dark parts of the night and sometimes the darker parts of days. You knew that if you needed him, he would help you. He was amazing.

Spencer’s mind was still repeating the words ‘white knight’ over and over again, trying to make sense of it all. “Peppermint has great healing effects and tea, especially, has great benefits!” he babbled, the sentence coming out at the speed of lightning. “In fact, the amino acid that teas carry, theanine, helps with balancing your hormones as you drink it.” You nodded quickly, not seeming to mind that he was spewing random facts.

“Did you know that ancient civilizations, like ancient Greece and ancient Egypt, used to use peppermint as medicine?” You giggled lightly. “I googled some things about peppermint tea after you sent me some,” you admitted to him cheerfully.

Spencer felt the tension in his back dissipate, finding it comforting that you didn’t seem frustrated with him for babbling. Instead, you seemed to have enjoyed it, it didn’t seem to bother you at all. He heard your laugh and found that the sound was butterfly-inducing, a giddy smile reaching his face as he laughed along with you.

---

Spencer insisted that he walk you back to your apartment, as well as insisting that walking would be good for you as you hadn’t been out of the house in a couple of days. So, how were you supposed to refuse, he won you over with the offer with those beautiful brown eyes, you were sure of it. Your crutches made a soft clicking sound every time you moved, but you were too busy listening to Spencer talk about Oscar Wilde.

This was every librarian’s dream, to have an intelligent and dreamy man walk you home as he talks to you about the symbolism in Oscar Wilde’s ‘Nightingale and the Rose’. He demanded that it’s the story for true romantics, while you argued it was a story for hopeless romantics. Whenever you said that he would say that they were the same thing, making you laugh.

As your apartment building came into view, you felt your legs become weaker, almost like jelly. “Spencer,” you muttered as the two of you stopped outside of the lobby, “Thank you,”

Spencer’s brows knitted together in confusion, “For?”

“Being with me today,” you admitted, feeling lame as he stared at you. “I already owe so much to you,”

“You don’t owe me anything,”

“I do,” you pressed quickly, standing straighter with the help of your crutches. “I owe you some much, you didn’t have to do all of this,” you motioned between the two of you with a grin, “but you did, you’ve been such a great friend and so helpful. I can’t thank you enough.”

Spencer smiled at your thanks and simply shrugged before saying, “It's what I would want if I was in your position, I’m sorry the only thing I can offer you is a helping hand.”

“Your helping hand has been the best thing to happen to me in a long time, so, again, thank you.” you conceded, your legs no longer feeling weak as you finished. Your mind reminded you gently that the two of you had been here before, in a dream once. Shoving the thought down you smiled up at him nervously, “Would you want to come up and maybe watch an episode of ‘Doctor Who’?” you offered, your voice breaking slightly due to anxiety.

Spencer tried his best not to looked shocked at your offer, every bone in his body screamed that he should accept, “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, or for it to be weird,”

“Why would it be weird? It will be like your perfect day,” you assured him sweetly, heart beating fast at the thought of his rejecting your offer. Spencer swiped his tongue over his lips nervously and you knew that it was probably a bad idea to invite him up. It was probably a bad idea, yes, but you found that you didn’t really care. You wanted him to be around you, you wanted to be with him, just as friends.

Spencer slowly nodded, “Okay, sure,” he settles, feeling slightly more confident as you break out into a bright smile. “Who’s your favorite Doctor anyway?”

“What a silly question, you’re my favorite Doctor, obviously,”

“No, I meant in the show-”

“I know, that was me messing with you, genius.”

Spencer felt his heart crawling into his throat as he watched you get into the elevator. You frowned at him, waiting for him to get into the elevator, “Come on, Doctor.” You urged him quickly as he shuffled into the elevator. A small thought came to mind as he listened to you hum along to the elevator music, maybe he lied earlier, maybe today was the perfect day.

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avintagekiss24 · 4 years

Text

Hot for teacher [1] > Bucky Barnes

PAIRING; Dark!Professor!Bucky Barnes x black!reader

WORD COUNT; 2,558

WARNINGS; Age difference, teacher/student dynamics, female masturbation, eventual dub-con elements

SUMMARY; You’re in your final year away at boarding school. There’s a new ethics teacher in town, and instead of helping you to straighten out your principals, he twists them all up.

NOTE; This is for @darkficsyouneveraskedfor Precode Challenge. I chose the movie Madchen in Uniform from 1931, where a girl gets sent off to boarding school and falls for her teacher.

I’m not sure how many parts this’ll end up being, but I have a lot of ideas, lol. Reader is a smart ass in this one, but Bucky likes a smart ass. Hope you guys enjoy on this fine Saturday evening :)

☞ PART TWO | ☞ SERIES MASTERLIST

You tap your pencil against your open textbook absentmindedly as you glance around the room. Your foot swings wildly from side to side as your brain races. You take a deep breath. You’ve always loved and hated the first day of school. You hate it, because from the moment your alarm goes off on the first day of school, the anxiety and pressure sets in. The word perfect comes to mind. You have to be perfect - straight A’s for mommy and daddy and nothing less. You love it because it’s really the only thing you’re good at. You’ve been perfect for so long that you don’t know how to be anything else.

You always sit up straight. You always cross your legs. You always eat your salad with your salad fork and your dinner with your dinner fork. You say please and thank you after every interaction with another human. You are prim and proper and perfect - always have been, always will be.

You glance at the clock on the wall - leave it to the new guy to be late on the first day. You roll your eyes and let out another sigh as you continue to kick your foot out of boredom and anxiety. People talk and laugh around you but you tune it out as you chew on the inside of your cheek. You glance at the clock again - come on.

The door suddenly opens, snapping all of your attention toward it as a short haired, stubble chinned man enters, “Sorry guys,” he starts, as he moves toward his desk, “It’s not the first day of school unless I’ve set a bad example for you.”

Laughter sounds around you but you don’t join in. You blink slowly as you scoot to the edge of your seat.

“So, first things first,” he starts, sitting on the edge of his desk and stretching out his legs to cross them at the ankles, “I’m Professor Barnes, but I don’t want any of you calling me that. We’re all adults, right? I mean, you’re all almost eighteen, if you aren’t already. Call me Bucky.”

Bucky. You’re not sure why but a jolt of something flashes right through your body. Bucky. It’s oddly erotic. You sit up a little straighter (if that’s at all possible) in your seat.

Your eyes sink down his lean frame. He’s dressed like you’d think an ethics teacher would be dressed - a brown and beige sweater covers a striped button down dress shirt and matching tie. His legs are long in his brown slacks, the material hugging his thighs slightly tighter than they should. The outfit is capped off with a pair of brown loafers - the expensive kind - as he shakes his foot.

“I’m also not going to lie, I’m probably going to be late more often than not. I’m not a morning person.”

He chuckles after his admission and you groan inwardly. Your eyes squint slightly as you bring the eraser of your pencil to your mouth to chew on it. Your crossed legs start to sway to and fro as your eyes continue to move up and down his body. Your thoughts turn from straight A’s and extra credit to things that would make your mother blush. He looks like he works out. He looks… firm.

A short, dark haired girl lifts her hand from the second row and he nods towards her, “So, what happens if we’re late? Are you going to count it against us?”

He cocks his head to the side and bends his lips down before he shrugs, “What do you think I should do, Miss…”

“Amy, Amy Podkulski.” She says, tucking her hair behind her ear, “I think as long as we’re here within a reasonable time, we should get a pass. As long as we aren’t taking advantage of it, you know?”

He nods slowly, keeping his blue eyes on her as she talks, “I think that’s fair. I mean, listen, I’m supposed to be preparing you for real life, right? For college and beyond - look, things are going to happen. People are going to get sick, they’re going to oversleep, they’re going to have car trouble. That’s real life. I’m not a hard ass. I like to think of myself as understanding, so, as long as you all are honest with me and don’t take advantage of me, an occasional tardy won’t bother me.”

You watch as several students nod and smile, already catching onto his casual vibe.

“That’s cool,” Amy Podkulski nods and you can hear the smile on her face, “Thanks Professor Barnes.”

“I told you,” he starts, crossing his arms over his chest, “It’s Bucky. Any other questions? Come on guys, I don’t bite.”

Your brain spins at almost a million miles a second as you chew on your pencil. You lift your hand slowly, a smirk playing on your lips as you come up with something shitty to say. Being a smart ass just comes with the territory you suppose.

Bucky links eyes with you seconds later and you almost gasp at the intensity behind them. You swallow quickly and clear your throat, regaining your composure quickly.

“You say that you’re supposed to be getting us ready for real life, right? So, how would you letting us be intentionally late, set us up for success?”

He smiles at you and pride swells in your chest, “Things happen. I’m not allowing you to be intentionally late for the hell of it, I’m being understanding.”

“Yes, but what supervisor or manager cares about what your morning is like?”

“Good ones.”

You shrug, “How many good supervisors or managers have you had?”

He smiles again, but this time wider - broader - showing off his perfect white teeth and the crinkles that form at the corners of his eyes, “Touche. What’s um, what’s your name?”

“I didn’t say.” You smirk back, enjoying this banter back and forth.

You’ve always tested your authority figures, trying to see if they can keep up with your quick wit and sharpness. You’ve dismantled a few, earning yourself more than a few tense classroom experiences, with one even having you switched to another teacher. This Bucky guy though? He’s good.

Truth be told, this is exactly what you wanted. Not so much to challenge him per se, but to have his full attention, all on little old you.

“Okay,” he starts confidently as he stands and starts to pace, his arms still crossed over his chest, “You think I’m being too lenient?”

“Not so much lenient, but you giving us the belief that as long as you're honest, people will both believe and forgive you. That’s just not true.”

“Interesting,” he nods as he continues to pace. He stops and cuts his eyes toward you again, “That’s a tad bit cynical, don’t you think?”

You shrug again as you feel the eyes of the rest of the students on you, “Maybe.”

“So, you don’t think that you’ll ever get the benefit of the doubt? That every single time you do something that’s considered a punishable offense, you should, but more importantly, you will be penalized? You think that is the real world?”

“That’s what society has shown us to believe, isn’t it? People get fired every day for being a few minutes late more than twice a month, aren’t they?”

He chuckles again, “Well if that’s the case, I should have been fired years ago.” Laughter rumbles through the classroom, “So you believe that you should be held accountable for everything?”

“Would I be taking ethics as an elective if I didn’t?”

He matches your smirk. He stares at you for a few seconds, his eyes dipping down your face slightly before he returns them squarely to your eyes. Your body is shaky and hot, your panties wet for a multitude of reasons. You’re a show off, and it gets you off when you get to parade your intelligence in front of an audience. You like a quick banter, you like knowing that someone can stand toe to toe with you on an intellectual level. You also like him. Bucky.

You’re going to touch yourself tonight.

If you can make it that long, that is.

“How about we do this, miss I didn’t give my name. How about I hold you, and only you, accountable for your tardies, hm?”

You shrug defiantly, “That’s fine with me, but, how are you going to do that if you’re not going to show up on time?”

His voice drops to a dangerously low octave, “Oh, I think you just made me a morning person.” Your lips part as you sense the slight edge in his voice, “Anything else?” He asks, quirking his eyebrow.

You shake your head, “No sir.”

The next hour goes by all too quickly if you do say so yourself. You could listen to him speak for hours on end. You’ve got almost six pages of notes - things scribbled in the margins, arrows pointing every which way. You currently sit with your chin in your palm, your eyes squarely on him, your blood rushing as your clit throbs between your legs.

“Alrighty,” he sighs, checking his watch, “That’s all I’ve got today. I’ll see you guys on Wednesday, okay? Hope you enjoy the rest of your first day back.”

You shut your notebook as the rest of the class moves around you, chatter instantly filling the room as the bell rings seconds later. You shove your book into your bag and stand, adjusting your plaid skirt before you move between the seats and down to the door.

A hand stops you - thick fingers and a warm palm wrap around your bicep. You turn on the balls of your feet to face the strong jawed Bucky Barnes. He looks just past you as the rest of the students file out one by one.

“I’m going to take this as a personal challenge, I hope you know.” He simpers, still ready and willing to play with you.

“Well, I hope you do, Mr. Barnes. I’m always up for a challenge.”

“I can see that,” he winks. You catch a whiff of his cologne and it nearly bowls you over, “I look forward to this semester with you.”

You bat your eyes towards him and drop your chin as a small, soft smile tugs at the corners of your mouth, “You as well Mr. Barnes.”

He lets you take a few steps before he calls to you again, “It’s Bucky.”

You stop, glancing over your shoulder, “I prefer Mr. Barnes.”

You feel his eyes on you as you pass through the door.

You’re not going to make it until tonight.

You check your watch quickly before you eye the sign for the girls bathroom. Seven minutes. You can make it happen in seven minutes. You make a quick b-line and push into the crowded bathroom, thankfully finding an open stall. You move inside and shut the door, slamming the lock into the small hole. You drop your bag to the floor - something you’ll ultimately regret later due to your germaphobic tendencies - and shove your hand into your skirt.

You close your eyes as your fingers start to move quickly, Bucky’s voice filling your head. I’m going to take this as a personal challenge, I hope you know. Your fingers dance between your wet lips, quickening as flashes of your excitement start to bounce through you. Your heart flutters. You can hear your wetness as you massage your clit, your hips starting to roll into your fingers.

Six minutes.

You bite down on your bottom lip, trying to stifle a soft moan as your free hand slips into your shirt. You squeeze your breast before pinching your nipple to bring it to attention. You toss your head back as thoughts of Mr. Barnes’ beard scraping against your thighs as he sucks you off ravage through your brain. You shove your fingers into your wet cunt, pushing them in and out, in and out as you roll your nipple between your fingers.

You release your breast and slip your hand into your skirt to accompany the other. You rub quick circles against your clit as you fuck yourself in the stall, just inches away from the flood of girls that move in and out of the bathroom.

So you believe that you should be held accountable for everything? You grunt softly as his words replay in your head. You want him to hold you accountable all right. Bend you over his desk, lift your skirt, spank you like the bad little girl you are.

Five minutes.

Your stomach jumps into your throat when your hips hitch at the thought, your orgasm building faster and faster. You push your hips into your hands as your skin starts to prickle with sensitivity. A shiver runs the length of your spine as you work yourself over, trying to stifle the high pitched noises that squeak out from your tight throat.

Your muscles clench your fingers as they start to quiver from the impending rush. Your heart leaps into your throat, your breath quickens as your body tenses.

Four minutes.

You hum quickly as you focus on coaxing out the sweet orgasm you so desire. You bite your lip again, imagining that your fingers are Mr. Barnes’ - scratching, groping, fingering, pumping into your flesh. How he’d ruck your skirt around your waist, nibble on your neck and earlobe, whisper sweet nothings as he finger fucks you up against his desk.

So, you don’t think that you’ll ever get the benefit of the doubt? That every single time you do something that’s considered a punishable offense, you should, but more importantly, you will be penalized?

You cum with three minutes to spare. You grunt quietly, biting down on your bottom lip so hard that you think you might draw blood. Your cunt clenches around your fingers as your clit jumps with convulsions. You thrust your hips forward as it consumes you - your pussy squirting, your warm juices splashing against your thighs and the floor below.

You fall against the wall, rolling onto your back as your chest heaves. Your eyelids are heavy as you can barely see through the slits. You hum again as a smile spreads on your face and a giggle sneaks through. This’ll get through the day. Now, you’ll be able to make it until tonight when you can slip under the covers with your vibrating boyfriend.

Two minutes.

You clean up - wiping at your thighs and then the floor with some toilet paper before collecting your bag. You move out to the sinks and wash your hands, keeping your eyes on your reflection in the mirror. Girls buzz around you, applying makeup and laughing and talking as you dry your hands before smoothing them down your jacket and skirt.

One minute.

You throw your hair over your shoulder, take one last glance at yourself before you move out into the hallway. You hurry toward your next class, slipping into the large room and taking a seat in the second row just as the bell rings. You wait a few minutes until your trigonometry teacher is deep in his lecture before you pull out your phone, flipping to your mother’s number.

I need a new backpack… dropped mine on the bathroom floor.

#precodechallenge #dark!bucky barnes #dark!bucky #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!bucky barnes x black!reader #dark!bucky barnes x you #dark!bucky x you #you x dark!bucky #professor!bucky #professor!bucky barnes #dark!fic #dark!#dark!marvel #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fandom #avintagekiss24 #hot for teacher

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teenwolffanclub-me · 4 years

Text

Season 1, Episode 1: Wolf Moon (Part Two)

Hey there beautiful reader! If you’re new here, this is a series I’m writing where each chapter is an episode from the first season of Teen Wolf. If you’ve been here before, hey! I missed you! Previous and future chapters are linked at the end of each part if you want to catch up.

Pairing: Stiles x Psychic! Reader (eventually)

P.S. Stiles and Y/N finally talk! Yay!

————————

I nearly jumped out of moms car as she skidded to a stop outside Beacon Hills High School. Somehow, I was late on my first day. Not a good first impression. She started her new job at the hospital today, too, but she didn’t have to be in until around noon.

“Good luck honey!” She called out and I sent a dismissive wave over my shoulder.

I slammed the passenger door shut and walked briskly toward the school. I was supposed to meet the principal out here for some reason, so I found a bench to sit on while I waited. I plopped down and immediately noticed a girl sitting on the bench across from me, talking on the phone. She had long dark hair that fell over her shoulders in loose waves and dark brown eyes. She looked tall and slender as she crossed her legs and ruffled through the beige bag beside her.

“Mom, a call on my first day is a little overdoing it.” She huffed and continued searching in her purse. “Everything but a pen. Oh, my God. I didn’t actually forget a pen. Okay. I gotta go. Love ya.”

Just then, a man wearing a grey suit approached us. He stopped in front of her and smiled politely at us both.

“Sorry for the wait.” He greeted.

I stood and slowly made my way toward both of them, assuming that she was another new student getting a chauffeur to her first class, too. She pulled her sleeves over her hands and sent me a timid smile. I returned the favor.

“Allison, meet Y/N. Y/N, Allison.” The man started walking and we followed silently. “So, you were saying San Francisco isn’t where you grew up?”

I figured he was talking to Allison since I’ve never lived in San Francisco nor spoken to him before.

“No, but we lived there for more than a year. Which is unusual for my family.”

That piqued my interest.

“Y/N, I take it you recently moved here as well?” The principal’s eyes met mine and I nodded.

“We move a lot, too.” Allison looked relieved not to be the only one and I had to admit that I was glad too. It was nice to know someone who could relate to my weird upbringing, even if we didn’t end up being friends.

“Well, hopefully Beacon Hills will be both of your last stops for awhile.” Our tour guide said cheerfully with a grin.

He led us into the school and through the halls casually. They were empty since we were late, and everyone was in class already. I glanced around, noting that it looked utterly normal. Normal was good. Normal was safe. Despite that revelation, my heart rate picked up and I wiped my sticky palms on my jeans. I always hated starting over. It made me incredibly nervous every time.

The principal made a right turn and opened a wooden classroom door. He stepped inside and both Allison and I followed. We must have the same first period. She looked even more nervous than I felt. She was constantly fidgeting with her hands and wasn’t making eye contact with anyone as we stood before the class. I, on the other hand, let my gaze sweep over the room as he introduced us.

“Class, these are our new students, Allison Argent and Y/N Y/L/N. Please do your best to make them feel welcome.”

He left quickly, leaving us to find empty seats. Allison instantly started walking toward the back of the room, probably not wanting to be the center of attention anymore, but I hesitated as I caught sight of two familiar people. It took me a second, since I’d only seen them in the dark, but those two boys were definitely the same ones from last night.

The one with shaggy hair, Scott, was staring at Allison with a small, dopey smile. His friend with the buzzed hair was glaring at the back of his head, as if he could sense that he was thinking something stupid. He, once again, was wearing too many layers. He wore a t-shirt, a grey zip-up hoodie, and a black jacket. I figured it must just be a style choice.

I forced my legs to move when I noticed that Allison was already sliding into the chair behind Scott. I made my way to the only other free desk, which was a row over behind his friend. Once I was seated, I let my bag fall to the floor beside me and tried to relax. That had been pretty painless.

I fished inside my bag for a pencil and watched as Scott turned to Allison. He handed her a pen and she took it with a quiet, “thanks”. My brows furrowed. How did he know she needed a pen? She’d said she forgot one while outside, but she had barely just sat down. He had no way of knowing.

“We’ll begin with Kafka’s Metamorphosis on page 133.” The teacher announced, and my attention snapped back to the front of the room.

Well, that was weird.

————————

The bell rang to dismiss us for the day and I rose to my feet quickly. My first day hadn’t been awful. I’d chatted with a few classmates and hadn’t felt too lost in my classes. Sometimes it was hard moving from place to place, because not every state teaches on the same schedule.

I glanced down at the piece of paper I’d written my locker number and combination on and made my way toward it. It was only when I started dialing in the numbers that I noticed Allison was standing beside me at her own locker.

“Following me?” I joked, and she laughed lightly.

“Hey, us new kids have to stick together, right?” She flicked her hair over her shoulder and concentrated on opening her lock.

She popped it open and glanced across the hall. I followed her gaze and rolled my eyes when I saw that Scott was staring dreamily at her. He was leaning against his own locker, looking like a lost puppy. She sent him a timid smile in return and turned back toward me.

A sudden voice from behind had us both turning around. “That jacket is absolutely killer.”

The compliment had come from a petit girl with strawberry blonde hair and an outfit to die for. She was wearing a red, white, and blue plaid mini skirt with a royal blue sweater tucked inside. Her beautiful green eyes were expertly framed by subtle makeup. She looked more like a model than a high school student.

“Where’d you get it?” She prodded when Allison didn’t respond right away.

She hesitated for another moment. “My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco.”

The girl’s gaze moved in my direction and she looked me up and down. I prepared myself for the worst but was surprised when her eyes lit up in excitement.

“Those shoes!” She gasped. I looked down at my ankle boots then back up to her. “Is your mom a fashion buyer too?”

“No,” I chuckled, relieved that she was actually being nice to me. I didn’t have a great track record with the popular crowd. “She’s a nurse.”

“And...you are my new best friends.” She smirked as Allison and I shared a quick, uncertain glance. This girl was nice, sure, but also a bit over the top for my liking.

Just then, a guy walked up and put his arm around our “new best friend”, who I realized still hadn’t formally introduced herself.

“Hey, Jackson.” They shared a brief kiss before both of their gazes were on us again. Well, at least I know his name.

He was admittedly a very attractive guy. His blond hair was short and spiked at his forehead, and he was clearly muscular beneath his thin t-shirt and plaid button up. He even had a strong jaw and striking turquoise eyes, to boot.

“So, this weekend there’s a party.” The girl crossed her arms and leaned back against Jackson’s chest.

“A party?” Allison echoed with a swallow.

“Yeah, Friday night. You should come.” Jackson chimed in, smirking devilishly.

“Oh, I can’t. It’s family night this Friday. Thanks for asking.” She quickly brushed them off. It was clear that she was lying. To me, at least.

All of their eyes moved in my direction and I glanced between them as I weighed my options.

“Sure. I’m in.” I shrugged.

I had never been a big partier, but it wouldn’t hurt to socialize a little. I’d never been invited to something on my first day at a new school, so I took it as a good sign. I wanted to make friends here. I wanted normalcy. And fun.

“We have tryouts in a few minutes.” Jackson suddenly announced. It took me a moment to realize that he was inviting us to watch. “That is, if you don’t have anything else...”

“Well, I was going to...”

“I actually have...”

We were both cut off as the girl gripped each of our wrists lightly.

“Perfect.” She smirked and urged us with her eyes to comply. “You’re coming.”

———————

I took a seat next to Allison and Lydia—yes, I finally asked her name—in the stands, rubbing my hands together against the chilly late afternoon air. I was slightly surprised to learn that we’d be watching lacrosse. I just assumed the tryouts would be for football.

I watched as Allison and Scott stared at each other from across the field very obviously and wondered what their deal was. It was almost like they had a history or something.

“Who’s that?” She suddenly asked, her eyes still on him.

“Him? I’m not sure who he is. Why?” Lydia’s tone was slightly judgmental, giving her feelings away easily. She clearly didn’t like to associate with anyone outside her clique.

“He’s in my English class.” Allison muttered, seemingly embarrassed to have asked.

I saw him cock his head to the side out on the field, almost as if he could hear us. I narrowed my eyes as the coach blew his whistle and Scott covered his ears like it physically hurt him.

“His name is Scott.” I said without thinking about how I shouldn’t know that.

Both girls looked at me in question and I shrugged with a sheepish smile. “I’m observant.”

They easily accepted my answer and turned their attention back to the tryouts. I winced as the poor guy took a ball to the face. After that one hit, he did surprisingly well. He caught each pass that came his way without effort. After Scott caught another round of balls, Jackson shoved his way to the front of the line, looking pissed off.

He threw as hard as he could, jumping a couple feet in the air as his body twisted from the force of it. We all watched with baited breath as the ball flung toward Scott. The stands erupted into cheers the second he caught it. His friend with the buzzed hair jumped up and waved his hands excitedly. Even Lydia stood to clap her hands.

“That’s my friend!” The guy shouted. Jeez, I really need to learn his name already.

Lydia cheered again and sent Jackson a pointed look. It was as if she were scolding him from afar and saying, “I’m only dating you because you’re the best player, so shape up.” He glared back, his nostrils flaring in anger.

—————————

“I made a complete and total fool of myself.”

I rolled my eyes and shut my locker with a quiet click. Allison was freaking out over nothing.

“He asked to you to go to the party with him.” I reassured her, leaning against the cool metal while I waited for her to gather her things. She had graciously offered me a ride home from school since my mom was working until late tonight.

“Probably out of pity or something.” She sighed and shut her locker.

She was nervous that she had scared Scott off after rushing into the animal clinic last night with a dog she’d somehow run over. Clearly, it was fine. Despite her “utter hysterics” as she called them, he’d invited her to the party this weekend. That was a good thing. It meant he didn’t care that she was an over emotional dog-hitter.

Speaking of Scott, we were quickly approaching where he stood at his locker. We were still at the end of the now empty hall when Jackson walked up and harshly slammed the metal door shut. On instinct, I grabbed Allison’s arm and dragged her into a nearby classroom.

I moved my head into the hall just enough to see them. She looked at me like I was crazy until I pointed in their direction. She seemed to catch on and ducked down beside me.

“Alright, little man.” Jackson huffed, invading Scott’s personal space. “How about you tell me where you’re getting your juice?”

“Juice?” Allison murmured, and I shushed her.

“What?” Scott sounded breathless.

“Where are you getting your juice?” Jackson enunciated each word, as if dumbing it down for him to understand.

He hesitated for a long moment. “My mom does all the grocery shopping.”

I had to slap a hand over my mouth to keep my giggle from outing us. I mean, come on. That was so dumb. Allison glared at me for laughing at her crush, but I saw her lips twitching as she fought a smile.

“Now listen, McCall. You’re going to tell me exactly what it is and who you’re buying it from, because there’s no way in hell you’re out there kicking ass in the field like that without some sort of chemical boost.” Jackson spat the words in Scott’s face, sounding incredibly angry.

“Oh,” Scott’s eyes lit up with recognition. “You mean steroids. Are you on steroids?”

Jackson slammed him into the lockers and both Allison and I jumped in surprise at his aggression. “What the hell is going on with you?”

“You wanna know whats going on with me?” He shoved Jackson away harshly. “You really wanna know? Well, so would I! Because I can see, hear, and smell things that I shouldn’t be able to see, hear, and smell. I do things that should be impossible! I’m sleepwalking three miles into the woods—.”

My shoulders tensed as memories of me doing that exact thing the other night flashed in my mind. He’d been sleepwalking too?

“—and I’m pretty much convinced that I’m totally out of my freaking mind!” He breathed out a heavy sigh and let his head fall back into the lockers.

Allison and I stood completely still, stunned by his words. So he had been listening to her phone call on the first day. That’s how he knew she needed a pen. And he’d heard us again in the stands at tryouts. He’d just confirmed it, he had supernatural abilities. By the sounds of it, they were new, too. But how?

“You think you’re funny, don’t you, McCall? I know you’re hiding something. I’m gonna find out what it is. I don’t care how long it takes.” Jackson slammed his fist against the lockers and stalked off.

I shut the door to the classroom we were hiding in and leaned against it, my head swimming with information. My eyes caught Allison’s and she looked back at me, slightly terrified.

“What. The. Hell. Was. That.”

————————

I shifted my red solo cup between hands and leaned against one of the thick columns on either side of the pool. Lydia really knew how to throw a party. The outdoor space was packed with dancing bodies. Music thumped loud enough to wake the whole neighborhood. It looked like everyone was having the time of their lives, my friends included.

Scott and Allison were dancing a few feet away from me. On the car ride home, we’d decided to investigate his weird outburst another time. It was just too much to deal with right now. It appeared she’d moved on from it already as they got progressively closer. Lydia and Jackson were grinding against the column beside me, although she was glaring in Allison’s direction with a hint of jealousy, which was weird.

Just then, someone bumped into my shoulder, causing my drink to spill down my arm. I jumped back, trying to keep it from going all over my clothes, and glared at the perpetrator next to me.

“Ah, sorry.” He winced before turning away. I rolled my eyes at his quick departure. Great, just great. It was bad enough that I was fifth-wheeling at this thing. Now I was cold and sticky.

Surprisingly, the guy returned a moment later with a handful of napkins. Way too many napkins. I let him dab at my arm for a few seconds until he was satisfied that it was dry. He glanced up at me, and I realized it was Scott’s spaz of a friend.

Now that I was less than a foot away from him, I noticed how adorable he really was. His boyish features were littered with small freckles and his thin lips were pulled into a sheepish smile. His light brown eyes, the color of molten caramel, were warm and kind.

Those eyes flickered around my face before landing back on my own.

“Stiles...” He mumbled, sounding breathless.

“What?” I wasn’t sure if he’d just sneezed or had a stroke or what, but that was definitely not a real word.

From the corner of my eye I saw Scott suddenly wince in front of Allison and stagger away from her. She watched him disappear into the crowd, looking both confused and concerned. His friend called his name and immediately ran after him, ending whatever weird conversation we were starting.

Just then, I felt a dark presence behind me. My heart started racing and my shoulders tensed as an ominous feeling overwhelmed my senses. I turned slowly to see a tall man in a leather jacket staring straight at me.

That is definitely not a teenager.

He took a step forward and I took one back.

“You know, you shouldn’t make a habit of trespassing on private property.” His voice was deep with warning. He stared straight into my soul and I gulped.

My brows furrowed in confusion. “Excuse me?”

I was suddenly missing the goofy boy’s company. Before the creepy guy could say anything else, Allison appeared at my side with tears in her eyes.

“I wanna go home.” She sounded incredibly upset that Scott had just up and left her. I couldn’t really blame her, either. He was acting really weird. “Who’s this?”

“My name is Derek.” Creepy guy shoved his hands into the pockets of his thick jacket. “I’m a friend of Scott’s.”

I eyed him carefully. I’d never seen the two talk and he looked way too old to be friends with a sophomore in high school. The guy practically exuded dishonesty.

“Need a ride?”

I was about to politely decline when Allison nodded enthusiastically. She just wanted to get out of here, and since we both drove with other people we were kind of stranded. She started walking away with him so I had no other choice but to follow along, I didn’t like it one bit. My stomach was churning uncomfortably at the thought of us being alone with this guy.

Whatever happened to stranger danger, anyway?

Although the ride was a little awkward, we both made it home safely that night. Little did we know what was lurking just around the corner.

Episode 1, Part One Episode 2, Part One

#stiles stilinski #stiles x y/n #stiles #teen wolf fic #teen wolf fanfiction #teen wolf series #teen wolf imagine #teen wolf #scott mccall #allison argent #lydia martin #teen wolf season one #derek hale #dylan obrien #stiles x original character #stiles x oc #stiles imagine #stiles stilinksi imagine #teen wolf rewrite

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leafs-lover · 4 years

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 9

Series Masterlist

A/N: I linked the outfit in case you’re interested.

Summary: Fred has a game in Toronto so he visits as your due date arrives. You get to meet some of his former teammates and make a decision on your future,

Warnings: Smut, swearing, soft Freddie, oral sex

Word Count: 2,985

November 3, 2021

Fred left shortly after breakfast that day. You have sent some messages back and forth and exchanged phone calls once sometimes twice a week. Neither of you have discussed what you thought happened in Denmark, making you think you imagined it.

He hasn’t brought back up the idea of you moving to Pittsburgh after the baby is born. It would be easier, and during road trips you could fly back to Toronto if you wanted to see friends/family. It would be good for both Fred and your son to have that time early on to bond. But if you do, how long will you go? What if he meets someone and wants to take her on a date, hearing he lives with the woman he got pregnant might be a hard thing for someone to understand. If the situation was reversed you wouldn’t go on a date knowing that, it’s a complicated situation.

And even if you do go there for the entire leave which could be 18 months if you chose, what happens after that. You have a 1 ½ year old, he can’t fly alone. So you go back to Toronto and still have to constantly fly to Pittsburgh and back during the season. By going to Pittsburgh you aren’t solving any problems, just postponing them, and creating some new ones.

The season has started, and Pittsburgh is playing the Leafs on the 4th. Fred got permission to fly out the morning of the 3rd and miss the practice to spend time with you. You open the door, to see him in a dark peacoat, grey plaid scarf and toque. He steps in and takes his coat off, you see his tight and toned upper body in a light long sleeve shirt, your breath hitches.

“Wow you look amazing" he says placing his hand on your stomach. So do you, you think to yourself

“Really? You’re lying? I look like a whale. Everything is sore. My back, legs, feet. Oh my feet are so sore.”

He smiles and leans down putting his arms under your leg and behind your back, lifting you up as he walks to the couch.

“I’m not lying you look amazing” he says setting you down gently and begins rubbing your feet. “Ohhh" you moan, Fred's eye brow lifts.

“You don’t see me for 2 months, I hardly touch you and basically have you coming undone.”

“Pregnancy makes my sex drive crazy, but it also makes everything sensitive. Told you it’s like everything is heightened, all the time.”

“I think I’m just that good.”

You laugh as he keeps massaging your feet, applying light pressure to the ball of your feet. “So how are you, apart from sore, how are you actually doing?”

“Unbelievably stressed. I don’t think I’m close to ready for him, I don’t have any furniture at the other apartment, the movers are coming soon. And I’m due in 14 days so I’m stressed. And there is just questions of the future, having a baby with someone who lives in a different country isn’t the most ideal. How are you doing?”

“I mean I’m stressed too, a lot going on, a lot to think about. New team and expectations is stressful enough. But I have something planned for today that I think will help both of us.” He grabs your hand and you head down the elevator. He leads you to a rental car, opening the door and helping you in.

He pulls up to a spa and you look at him. “You have mentioned being sore a few times on the phone, so I thought a pregnancy massage could help. So I booked us a couple massage.”

“Wow that’s amazing Fred, thanks “

You walk in the door and they lead you to a private change room. You strip down completely except your panties and place the plush white robe on your body. When you’re done you open the door and enter the treatment room, where Fred is already sitting on his table in his boxers, his robe hanging on a hook. He walks over to you, taking your robe and hanging it beside his. You turn around to head to the bed and his hand reaches out to touch your stomach, he begins stroking it his thumb grazing your nipple sending a sensation down to your core.

“You look stunning, pregnancy suits you” he leans down to kiss your cheek. A smile comes across your face as he takes his hand off and helps you into the table before walking over to his table. You watch him as he walks over to his table, his boxers are tight on his ass, resting part way up his large thighs. You feel wetness pool staring at his muscular back while he climbs into the bed.

You both get a 90 min massage, and it was exactly what you needed, with you dozing off for part of it.

You return back to your apartment when Fred speaks up. “So some of the guys on the Leafs invited me for dinner, was wondering if you wanted to come. They are super nice, and have a chef coming to make dinner.”

You are hesitant not wanting to impose, but Fred convinces you to meet his friends. You shower and stare into your closet. You have some nice outfits, but most of your maternity wear consisted of leggings and sweater dresses. Your clothes mostly focussed around comfort and warmth. You finally settle on a pair of maternity jeans, with a white long sleeve shirt. You complete the look with some beige booties and a plaid wrap. You and Fred arrive at Fred’s old apartment building, your soon to be new apartment building. This time he leads you to the 41st floor. The door opens and Auston Matthews is on the other side, the two briefly hug before Fred is practically knocked over by a bernadoodle. “Hey I’m (Y/N)” you say as you step in.

“I’m Auston, this is Mitch and his girlfriend Steph he says pointing to them. And that guy is Felix.” You reach down to pet Felix as he weaves around your legs wagging his tail. Dinner with them flowed easily, you were originally nervous but quickly realized you had no reason to be. After dinner the chef has left and you are all sitting at the table talking.

“So are you scared to become a dad Fred?” Steph asks.

He looks at you briefly before responding “No, not really.”

Silence falls briefly as you stare at him. “Are you serious? You’re not nervous? I’m absolutely terrified to become a mom.”

Everyone stares at you for a second.

“Oh thank God” Fred responds. “You seem so confident and together with everything. I thought you wanted to hear I was too. So I lied. I’m scared shitless” everyone laughs.

“What scares you the most?” Mitch asks.

“Well I think every first time parent has the same fears and concerns am I going to be a good parent, am I going to make mistakes blah blah blah . I think most of those fears get erased in the first month or so of being a parent. But I think my biggest fear is not handling this thing in the best way" he looks to you “the co-parenting with someone in a different country” he finishes.

“It’s a unique situation with him leaving for Pittsburgh and me living in Toronto. Like I don’t know what is the best decision for our son. Like stability and routines are all so important for babies. But that’s hard when each parent is in a different country” you add.

“Have you given much thought into what you will do once he comes?” Mitch asks.

“Yeah I’ve been thinking about it non-stop. I’ve been considering spending part of my mat leave in Pittsburgh. That way when he is playing at home they can have that time together. But I worry about what to do after my mat leave. It’s just delaying everything. Like are we better off trying to create some kind of a travel routine now and stick to it after I return to work. And in the beginning I’ll be breast feeding so I’ll need to be around but once I’m able to pump enough I don’t need to be and can give him some time alone to bond with him. But what do I do, fly there drop him off and leave? Stay in a Pittsburgh hotel alone, I know nobody there. And also travelling with a baby doesn’t sound exciting at all. So it’s just a lot to consider and lots of options. And I just don’t know what’s best. I don’t want him to resent me down the line because I made a bad choice. It’s hard"

Silence falls over the room “sorry” you say realizing you rambled for a while.

“Yeah it’s a lot you are dealing with. I can’t imagine" Steph finally says. Fred puts a hand on your leg squeezing lightly “we’ll figure it out” a soft smile on his face.

Later that night you are at your place getting ready for bed. After brushing your teeth you crawl in next to Fred. His hand falls to your stomach as he shifts to put his head just above your stomach as he starts talking to your baby, you run your hand gently through his hair.

“Hey baby boy, I can’t wait to meet you. It would be really awesome if you came tonight or tomorrow while Daddy is here in town” he kisses your stomach. “I just want you to know that things might be a little crazy sometimes, and because I live so far away I might not get to see you all the time, but it doesn’t mean I don’t love you or I’m not thinking about you.” You zone out as you feel tears beginning to rise, you focus on breathing trying to supress them as he continues talking to your stomach.

“Goodnight baby boy” he says rubbing your belly before kissing it. He crawls up behind you, his hand still resting on your stomach.

You drift off, waking up in the morning and realize you slept straight through. Fred’s arm thrown across you, holding you close, you can faintly smell his cologne. “Wow I haven’t slept for 8 hours in a long time. This guy doesn’t normally let me” you say groggily.

“He doesn’t’?”

“No he is normally up all night, kicking and moving, he’s a night owl. Since you got here he has been much calmer. It’s like he knows his dad is here and is on his best behaviour.” Fred laughs, rubbing your stomach and leans down lower “you are supposed to behave for mom, we’ve talked about this.” He places a kiss on your stomach, a light moan leaves your lips as he crawls back up behind you.

You lay there silently, him stroking your stomach, placing soft kisses in your hair. His eyes get heavy as you whisper “Fred?”

“Mm, what is it dear?” he questions weakly.

“I don’t think I can do this” you say with tears in your eyes. His hand stops as he rolls you onto your back slightly, looking at your face. Concern washes over him.

“Do what? Be a parent? Seems like you could have made that decision months ago. Kind of late to make that choice don’t you think. How can you even think about leaving him?"

“Noo, no no no, not that!” you cut him off quickly. “I don’t think I can do this without you. I just, I..I uh… I don’t want to do this without you around every day. I need you, we need you.” You look up at him and continue “I want to come to Pittsburgh after he is born and stay with you for my mat leave. I will tell my company I am taking the 18 month leave, and I’ll come down. We both need you around. I was thinking I could stay with you at first and when he is 3 or 4 months then get an apartment and we can do the split custody thing around your schedule.”

“Just stay for the whole thing, I have 3 bedrooms.”

“Yeah one for him and the other should be for guests, like your family. Besides it could be weird if you are on date and have to tell the girl your baby momma lives with you"

“Well I haven’t talked to them much since Denmark, after you left things got a little intense with them. I’m not ready to talk to them. Also I don’t see myself going on many dates as a professional athlete with a newborn, but if she had a problem with it she isn’t the one for me. How about we see how it plays out, and if it’s working you stay the whole time. If it isn’t we’ll find you a place.”

He doesn’t let you respond leaning in and kissing you passionately causing you to moan lightly. He takes a finger down into your pyjamas, and strokes over your folds. He slides it in you and begins gently thrusting “oh my god" you scream breaking the kiss.

His mouth returns to nibble on your ear alternating with placing kisses on your neck. It’s been so long since you’ve felt anything, and your body is heightened and extra sensitive. He slides down your body, placing a pillow in his spot. He pulls your pyjama bottoms off and begins licking up your folds, he uses his fingers to create a scissor and open you up as he sucks lightly on your clit.

“This okay?” he asks.

A soft moan leaves your lips in response, “good. You taste so good” he says as he dives in further, his nose brushing against you. He increases the pace, slipping his tongue into the mix, his fingers curling inside you. He sucks on your bud his fingers pumping in and out of you.

You feel your orgasm approaching as you squirm, your hips lifting. You grip the bedsheets, your toes curling as Fred continues pumping. He sucks hard on your bud causing an intense orgasm to crash over you. You lay there as his pace slows but he doesn’t stop. He finally pulls out his fingers and wipes his hands on your bed. He removes the pillow replacing it with his body, your head falls back onto his shoulder and he leans in to kiss you. Your juices still fresh on his lips, he pulls away slightly but still close enough for his beard to tickle you.

“So, I bought a book on sex positions for pregnant women” he whipsers.

You laugh “oh really?”

“Yeah… I mean I wanted to make sure you had a good time obviously, but also that you are comfortable. I know this” he rubs your stomach “can make you uncomfortable and can make certain positions not as enjoyable. We tried a few out before leaving. There is still a few we can do if you are up to it.”

“Yes. I’m definitely up for it”

“You sure? I don’t want you to be too uncomfortable.”

“I won’t be! I have wanted to do this since I opened the door yesterday. Then I saw you in your boxers at the massage; I almost jumped you then.” He leans his head back laughing. You continue “besides some people believe sex this close can help kick start labour, and others believe it can help with pain during labour. Make it easier to push a baby out if you aren’t so…tight.”

A grin crosses his face as he pulls his pants off and pumps himself a few times.

As he is lining himself up you question “do we need a condom?” He looks at you questioningly “I don’t know if you met someone in Pittsburgh… you’ve been gone for a bit.”

“Just you babe, just you.” With that he pushes in gently as you lean your head back onto his shoulder.

You’re lying on your left side and he slightly bends your right knee, and places a pillow under your stomach.

“Good babe?”

“Fred fuck. I need you.” he pulls out and pushes in fully “bad" you practically screaming the last word.

Fred keeps pulling out and pushing back in but at a slow pace. You know at this pace it will take a while for you to reach your high, but he doesn’t want to push you too hard. He pulls out and as he is pushing back in you force yourself back bottoming out “faster.”

Fred reaches around you placing a hand on your clit and begins playing with it. He keeps pulling out and pushing back in but his pace is starting to quicken, you groan “yes.” He leans forward and kisses your shoulder. You feel yourself getting very close as Fred’s hand continues to apply pressure on your clitoris. You grind back on him searching for your high. Fred continues his pace, you feel him becoming sloppy behind you as you become undone gripping the bed sheet as your pussy clenches around him.

He bites your shoulder as you feel his warmth fill you up. He lays there still inside you for a few minutes as you both catch your breath. A hand comes to your chin and turns you to look at him, engaging you in a soft but passionate kiss. He eventually pulls out and wanders to the bathroom starting the shower. He carries you into the shower, helping to rinse you off.

Outfit

Next Chapter

#Freddie Andersen #Frederik Andersen #Freddie Andersen Smut #Frederik Andersen Smut #Freddie Andersen Fic #Frederik Andersen Fic #Auston Matthews #NHL Smut #NHL Fic #freddie andersen x reader #fred andersen smut #fred andersen x reader #fred andersen #fredzilla #because two people got drunk #my writing

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