#note that I still want him to take his shirt off twice per movie

[apicturewithasmile]

I just realised that Deedee Cracks is finally free to become a chonky boy now that he doesn’t have to workout to take his shirt off twice per movie anymore.

#note that I still want him to take his shirt off twice per movie #please give Benoit Blanc a belly #if not in part 2 then in part 3 #dilp science #Daniel Craig #about me

[holy-hyuck]

WayV Reaction: They See You Wearing Their Clothes

Kun

"Are you cold?" Kun asked as he took a seat next to you on the couch. You shrugged, half-wanting to say yes, but not wanting to trouble him. "Xiaojun, can you get (y/n) one of my hoodies?" he asked the younger male when he saw him going up the stairs.

Xiaojun nodded his head and motioned for you to follow him. In their room, he threw the three hoodies Kun owned on his bed and let you pick. One was a poop-coloured, oversized one, another a mix between red and pink, but you finally decided on a thick minty one, the one you gave him on his birthday this year. You pulled it over your head and made your way down the stairs once you realised Xiaojun went to take a shower.

You stopped in front of the TV, hands in the pockets of your boyfriend's attire, and it didn't take long before you felt his arms sneak around you. After giving you a kiss to your temple, he put his chin on your shoulder, breathing in his cologne mixed with your perfume.

"I'm so stupidly in love with you."

The words tumbled out of his lips simply, without much thought, but you both knew how sincere they were.

Ten

"Can I borrow your suit?" Your voice rang through the small apartment you shared with Ten. He made a face, looking away from his phone.

"Okay?" he yelled back, deciding that maybe not asking further questions was in his best interest.

Half an hour passed before he heard your footsteps coming into the living room. Looking up from his phone again, all he could mutter out was a 'wow'.

"I told you I'm going to that Halloween party with my coworkers! So, how do I look?"

With a stupid grin on his face, Ten stood up from the couch and walked around you twice, eventually back-hugging you.

"Stunning." He gave you a kiss on the temple. "As always," he whispered in your ear. "I'm kinda digging this, you know? Who knew Frankenstein could be so hot."

And then, he had to hold your laughing form before you managed to collapse to the ground, stuttering his words back to him, causing him to roll his eyes. Maybe he should have stuck to the 'wow'.

WinWin / Sicheng

WinWin never thought it would get to him as much as it did. Most of the times the two of you spent were with the other boys, the perfect opportunity to offer you his clothes being a movie night but he didn’t want to get teased by them.

The two of you were walking back from shopping, the weather not quite as nice as it was before. The wind picked up and you still had over twenty minutes to walk back to your house, and even more to the dorms.

Shivering involuntarily, you wrapped your arms around yourself to keep the cold away, but needless to say, haven’t succeeded.

With the wind blocking out some sounds, you didn’t hear the commotion next to you. Plus, Taeyong was trying to be subtle about it - that, however, wasn’t a problem with Donghyuck.

“Yah, Sicheng, aren’t you going to give (y/n) your jacket or something? You know, like a sweet boyfriend would,” he said, a hint of teasing present, as per usual.

Blushing, your boyfriend took off his hoodie, revealing a jumper underneath (so you knew he wouldn’t be that cold himself), and passed it over to you, without looking at you. You thanked him, putting it on, instantly feeling warmer. Sicheng wouldn’t look at you (besides the subtle glances) or speak to you until you arrived at your house, you promptly giving him his clothing back, and seeing how he reacted, you made a mental note to yourself to always try bringing a spare jacket with you when you two went out.

Lucas / Yukhei

You heard Yukhei before you saw him, sauntering into your apartment just as you finished up the dinner for your date.

"Look what I got you!" he exclaimed, fishing through all four of the shopping bags before digging up a bright pink jumper, at least two sizes too big for you.

You wanted to tell him that until he got a similar one out, only in your size.

"Matching jumpers! Well, kinda. I got them in the men's section because the material is thicker and I thought; why not? Try it on!"

He was so excited you couldn't make him wait, so you took off your shirt, leaving you only in a tank top, and scrambled to put the jumper on. It fit you perfectly, albeit the sleeves were puffed out slightly, but you reckoned that was just the design. You liked oversized things anyway.

Yukhei beamed, enveloping you in a hug that nearly made you suffocate.

"You're literally perfect. I can't believe how lucky I am."

Xiaojun / Dejun

You visited your boyfriend on the set for their new music video. He just finished getting his hair done when he saw you in the mirror, getting up to give you a hug and greet you. He scooped you up and spun you around.

"No need to rub it in!" You both laughed at Kun's words, who passed by and gave you a kiss on the cheek before leaving to film his solo scene. You watched his dark grey hair disappear, then came up to the clothing rack, fiddling with some clothes.

"So, do you like, get to keep any of these?" you asked, picking up a beret.

"Well, not exactly. But I do get to wear them on other sets and variety shows," he answered, giving you a back hug.

You hummed in response, spinning around and thus breaking yourself out of Dejun's hold. You put the beret on your head and posed for him.

"So, how do I look? Ready to debut in a group?"

Your boyfriend watched you, half with heart-eyes and half-amused.

"How do you look better in that than me?"

You laughed, taking the hat off and gently placing it back to its original place. "One of my many charms, Jun."

Hendery / Kunhang

"We're live in five!" You heard and fastened the button on your shirt. Well, Hendery's shirt, to be exact, but he stole your leftovers last week so you figured it was time for payback.

"(Y/n)!" You turned around and spotted the aforementioned running towards you.

"Hendery? What are you doing here? I'll be live in a few," you said in a hushed whisper.

"I wanted to bring you this." He lifted the small gold pin and grinned at you. It was your lucky charm. He pinned it to your blouse, then took the collar between his fingers with scrunched eyebrows. "Is that... Is that my shirt? I've been looking for it the whole weekend."

You grinned at him sheepishly. "But I look cute, don't I?"

He sighed, his mouth stretching into an involuntary smile. He planted a kiss on your forehead. "I guess you do."

YangYang

Along with some of your mutual friends, YangYang and you went to bonfire night. As the evening turned into night, and most of the people went home, you and your boyfriend decided to stay behind. The night was still, but the temperature has dropped significantly; thankfully, you came prepared.

Pulling a thick cardigan out of your bag, you were ready to be engulfed by its warmth, when YangYang stopped you in your tracks.

"Wait." He began digging in his backpack and pulled out a bright red sweatshirt, the same one he was wearing, and motioned for you to put your arms up. When you did, he pulled the piece of clothing over your head. "There."

Then, he snuggled up to you, leaving you confused as to what just happened.

"I've had that sweatshirt in my bag for two weeks now, waiting for the perfect opportunity. Apparently, you never get cold."

You snickered at his words, dropping the cardigan on the sand and placing your head on his shoulder, enjoying the night air, and the smell of YangYang's cologne on you.

#nct reactions #wayv reactions #nct fluff #wayv fluff #nct x reader #wayv x reader #kun reactions #ten reactions #winwin reactions #sicheng reactions #lucas reactions #yukhei reactions #xiaojun reactions #dejun reactions #hendery reactions #kunhang reactions #yangyang reactions

[brightly-painted-canvas]

Credo che possiamo affermare con assoluta certezza che tutte le bambine della parrocchia avrebbero una cotta fotonica per Nico l'animatore del Grest, E LE MAMME SAREBBERO PURE PEGGIO, "tanto un caro ragazzo lui..."

Ah, sì. Poco ma sicuro. Headcanon accepted. Passerebbe il tempo circondato da bimbe (e bimbi perché no) adoranti che lo seguono ovunque e che parlano di lui talmente tanto a casa che tutti i genitori si sono fatti assurdi film mentali su questa figura mitologica. E poi se lo trovano davanti all'orario di uscita e pure le mamme perdono la testa.

A riguardo, piccolo aneddoto personale: anche io quando facevo l'animatrice ero molto apprezzata dai più piccoli XD Una volta un bambino di seconda elementare mi ha regalato una carta Pokémon e mi ha chiesto di sposarlo.

Quindi, dato che avevo promesso avrei provato a scrivere un po', complimenti: hai vinto una drabble ispirata proprio a questo fatto realmente accaduto! :D

.

Innocent proposal (animatore!Nicky AU)

When the bell rings, announcing it’s time to gather up the teams for prayers before heading to the mess hall for lunch, Nicky is still helping Jacopo solve a math problem.

“It’s okay. We will finish this tomorrow.” he smiles at the 9 years old, who looks ready to bolt, summer homework already very far from his young mind.

“Grazie, Nico!” he exclaims, while dutifully picking up his book and pencil case.

Nicky gets up, helps the kids gather their stuff, cleans up the study room and heads down to the gym, where Don Luigi is waiting for all the 120 kids attending this year’s oratorio estivo to sit on the floor before starting his usually brief and often sung pre-lunch prayer.

.

The gym is already full of it’s typical colourful mass of kids, from the ‘juniores’ to the ‘seniores’, all with caps and neckerchiefs of their team’s colour: blue, red, yellow or green.

Nicky is about to slalom through a group of rowdy seniores to reach the side of the gym where the other animatori are seated, when he feels a tug at the back of his t-shirt.

He stops, turns his head and looks down, surprised in seeing little Chiara biting her lips and still holding the hem of his shirt in her tiny fist.

“What is it, darling?” he asks, smiling down at her.

When she lets him go, he turns and crouches down at her level, balancing on his heels, to give his whole attention to the shy, sweet 7 years old.

“Vanessa taught us how to make beaded bracelets.” she says, her voice so thin it’s almost impossible to hear her mumbling beneath the chaos of the gym.

“Did she? That’s very nice!” he encourages her, while in his mind he is revising his animatrice friend Vanessa, that very morning, cursing at all the colourful beads boxes she had to carry from the storage to the art laboratory.

Chiara, who already has her own bracelet around her small wrist, produces another bracelet from her jeans’ pocket: it has beads of all the colours of the rainbow, not really placed in a logical order. At the center there is a dice shaped white bead with an ‘N’ printed on it.

“This is for you.” Chiara says, possibly even more softly than before.

“Grazie, Chiara! È bellissimo!” exclaims Nicky, accepting the gift and immediately snapping the plastic elastic band around his thick wrist: the bracelet it’s a bit tight, but he’s surely gonna wear it proudly all through summer camp now.

“It’s because I think you’re very nice and handsome and I like you very very much.” says Chiara then, somewhere somehow finding the courage to even raise her voice a bit.

Nicky blinks exactly twice, then he smiles sweetly, trying not to burst into a laugh in the face of such a cute love confession: “Thank you, I like you too.” he says, taking the girl’s tiny hand in his huge one. He can’t help falling a bit in love with every small kid he tutors during oratorio estivo each summer: they’re adorable, even the most troublemakers.

Then Chiara asks suddenly: “Will you marry me, Nicolò?”, catching him so off guard he almost loses balance on his crouching and falls on his ass.

He fumbles, looking into her hopeful, big green eyes as she waits for an answer. He knows he can’t get away with a joke or an attempt to gloss over. He has to give her a reply, so as not to hurt the shy girl’s feelings.

.

Later that evening, Nicky is sprawled on the couch eating popcorn, distractedly watching some superhero movie on Joe’s big flatscreen TV while his boyfriend slowly and lovingly massages his sore feet and calves. Joe has had Nicky’s legs propped on his lap since the moment they sat down, claiming that helping Nicky relax and ease the pain of more than 8 hours spent standing, running and lifting heavy stuff, was his favourite job.

Above them the ceiling fan whirs in a monotone and Nicky is almost falling asleep were it not for the loud booms of explosions from the TV and the many sounds of late summer evenings coming from the street’s bars and restaurants below. Joe’s apartment is in a very lively neighbourhood.

By the minute Nicky is feeling his eyelids drooping and his breath becoming deeper and slower and he’s about to let slumber win when Joe suddenly moves, getting up.

“I bought gelato. The pistacchio and stracciatella one you like so much. Want some?” he asks, already smiling, knowing that not even deep tiredness could deter Nicky from eating his favourite summer dessert.

“Ti amo tantissimo.” he just mumbles as a reply, smiling dumbly with his eyes half closed and his neck skewed at such an odd angle he must have at least five chins showing. He can’t even English at the moment, so he just continues with much fondness: “Cosa devo fare io per meritarmi un amore grande così…”

Joe snorts, having heard him from the kitchen.

He comes back a few minutes later, one cup of ice cream and a spoon in each hand, and places them on the coffee table before bending to kiss Nicky on the (slightly sweaty, ugh, gross) forehead.

“You have to kiss me, hold me close even if it’s summer…” he starts listing, plopping down on the couch and then in Nicky’s arms, linking their legs, pushing his face against Nicky’s too warm collarbone.

His mop of curls brushes under Nicky’s nose and he huffs, but still accepts the weight (and warmth) of his boyfriend on his tired body.

“You have to take me out on dates, go to the beach with me when oratorio estivo is over and, one day, you will have to marry me.” continues Joe, each word kissed against the skin of Nicky’s neck.

“Marry? You wanna get married?” asks Nicky, worsening his multiple chin situation to look down into Joe’s glinting eyes.

“Eventually? In our late twenties? When you’ll be a doctor and I’ll be a famous artist? Yes.” he confesses, suddenly almost shy, but with a gaze full of trust and love.

“That’d be nice.” immediately replies Nicky, heart engulfed in the same sentiment he sees in Joe’s perfect eyes: “But alas,” he sighs theatrically, placing the back of his right hand above his forehead, for emphasis.

“‘Alas’ what?” asks Joe, pushing himself up a bit, looking confused.

“I’ve already accepted one marriage proposal today, I’m afraid.” admits Nicky, showing the beaded bracelet on his wrist, his new love token.

“Excuse me?” protests Joe, his disbelieving expression so cute Nicky can’t help but grin and boop him on the nose.

“Yeah, a young suitor asked for my hand in marriage, today. In, let’s see… 11 years, she will be of age and we will tie the knot.” he explains, barely succeeding in holding back a laugh.

Joe sighs exasperatedly, a mischievous grin spreading on his beautiful red lips. He flops down heavily once again, punching the air out of Nicky’s lungs and then he rubs his itchy, bearded chin on his boyfriend’s chest. “That’s alright,” he declares after he’s satisfied with his retaliation methods: “I’ll just have to kidnap and marry you before that, then.” he reasons.

“Oh, you brute.” sighs Nicky, finally placing his hand on Joe’s jaw to guide him up and steal a kiss from his smiling lips.

Joe kisses back, with mirth and then with intensity, stealing his breath and dissipating, in an instant, all of Nicky’s tiredness.

When they part, Joe has his hands in Nicky’s hair and Nicky’s left hand, the clever bastard, now rests on Joe’s ass.

The movie, the lively evening outside, the fatigue of the day, everything is forgotten. Except: “Now that that’s sorted out, amore mio, pass me the gelato.”

.

Notes: Nicky is 18 and Joe is 21 in this, I guess. Sorry for the mistakes, English is (obviously) not my first language. Hope you enjoyed!

#fanfiction #drabble #tog fanfic #the old guard #kaysanova #joe and nicky #nicolò di genova #yusuf al kaysani #annoying italian dude nicky #nicky animatore estivo #modern au #inspired by true facts (happened to me - as in i got proposed once by a 7 years old while being animatrice di oratorio estivo) #don luigi is the priest in my church when i went to oratorio estivo too #ask #reply #regina-del-cielo

[queenshelby]

Unexpected Circumstances (Just Friends Part 7) - Cillian Murphy Imagine

Featuring: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Warning: SMUT

Words: 5789

Notes: I have decided to include one of the requests I received in this series as I didn’t know how to best write it as a standalone at this point. I think it makes sense as part of this series as trust between Cillian and the Reader has been clearly established. I might still write a stand-alone piece as well incorporating the same request as this is the sort of Smut I like. So, stay tuned for that!

------

The Letter

It has been five weeks now since Cillian and you admitted your feelings for each other and things were going great.

Some days you couldn’t believe how lucky you were to have found a man like him, someone who cared not only for you but also your son Max.

Cillian adored Max and Max enjoyed Cillian’s and Cillian’s children’s company.

Cillian would often pick Max up from preschool when you had to work late and prepare dinner for you and Max. Max thought that this was fantastic since you were a terrible cook.

But, despite this, it was sometimes difficult to arrange dates when you both had children to look after. You both tried to work around this issue as best as you could but, realistically, you only managed to have three sleepovers per week, mostly when Cillian didn’t have his boys. This was when he came over to stay at your house and you always hated when he had to leave.

After all, you were madly in love, a feeling which was unfamiliar to you. You wanted to be around him all the time and whenever you weren’t together you missed him.

As expected, you received some backlash from strangers due to your age gap but you tended to ignore the frustrating comments. They didn’t know you and they didn’t know your relationship.

The comments you received from your friends were nothing but supportive and even your grandmother thought that Cillian was good for you, much unlike your previous partners.

You still haven’t told your parents about your relationship, but your sister was aware. She followed Twitter quite eagerly and loved Cillian’s TV Show hence the reason you told her.

Your sister was concerned that your father wouldn’t approve of your relationship due to the large age gap, but that wasn’t a problem you were ready to face yet and little did you know that you were about to have bigger problems than that coming your way.

Bad news was about to hit you like a freight train. It was 10am on Friday morning. You were working from home while Max was at preschool as the doorbell rang.

It was unusual for the postman to drop off letters personally. Usually that meant that you had to sign for your letters, which was never a good sign.

You thought that it must be a vehicle recall, or notice of some sort. But it was worse. It was a letter from your real estate agent advising you that you will be required to vacate the premises within 30 days.

You could not believe it. It was difficult enough for you to find this townhouse as a single mother in an area where the schools were decent enough. You were always on time with your rent and never missed a single payment. You had no idea why you had to move out.

You called the real estate agent immediately and were advised that the owner is returning from America and requires the premises at the end of the lease term. There was nothing you could do.

The real estate agent advised you that there were no suitable rentals in the area within your price range but that they were willing to give you a good reference should you find something else with a different agent.

You were devastated. The last thing you wanted is to take Max out of preschool just after he made some friends. Furthermore, Cillian’s youngest son was attending the same preschool and it was a perfect arrangement for the both of you.

As you went on with the day, you put your non urgent work aside in order to search for rentals online as, all of a sudden, the doorbell rang.

‘Oh Cillian… I totally forgot’ you said as you opened the door.

‘You forgot our date?’ Cillian chuckled as he walked in the door, giving you a quick kiss.

‘I must be the worst girlfriend’ you said with some embarrassment. You never forgot a date with your boyfriend before. After all, it was what you looked forward to the most.

‘Relax, it’s fine Y/N’ Cillian said before noticing that your face was slightly flushed and your eyes were red.

‘Are you alright though? You look like you’ve been crying’ Cillian said as he ran his hands over both of your arms. He knew that something was wrong.

‘Yes, I just had a very stressful and shit morning. I am alright now though’ you said as you walked into the bedroom to get changed, ready to go out for lunch.

‘Do you want to talk about it?’ Cillian asked from the hallway.

You took the letter which you received from the real estate agent from the sideboard in the hallway and handed it to him.

‘I’ve just been searching for a new rental but they are either too expensive or out of the area. But, I have found one in North Dublin and the schools there have halfway decent reviews so…’ you explained and, before you could finish your sentence, Cillian interrupted you.

‘The schools here are much better Y/N. I don’t think you should change Max mid-term; it will put him behind’ Cillian said.

‘Don’t you think I know this?’ you asked frustrated. You were still quite upset about having to move.

‘I will lose the enrolment as soon as I move out of area. Despite, I cannot drive backwards and forwards with work. I barely make pickup time now with the hours I am at the office’ you added just as tears began to build up in your eyes again.

‘Common, sit down’ Cillian said as he sat down on the bed next to you and wrapping his arms around you.

‘I might have a solution’ he said as he wiped your tears away.

‘Go on then’ you said, still sobbing.

‘You and Max could move in with me. That way, we could spend more time together and Max won’t have to change preschool and can start year one with Charlie’ Cillian suggested.

‘Move in with you? Cillian, don’t you think it’s a bit too early for that? We have only been together for 5 weeks’ you said.

‘Yes, but we’ve known each other for a few months now. Seems like a perfectly reasonable timeframe’ Cillian chuckled, making you laugh. You knew that he was being sarcastic. He always had a good sense of humour.

‘Coming from the man who just a couple of months ago didn’t want to settle down’ you smiled.

‘Well, that was before I got myself such a beautiful girlfriend’ Cillian said before giving you a passionate kiss. He could taste the saltiness from your tears but it didn’t seem to bother him.

‘You are crazy, you know that’ you chuckled after your lips drifted apart.

‘Well, you do that to me’ Cillian said while cupping your face with both of his hands.

‘We would, however, need to work on your cooking skills’ he added jokingly, earning him a nudge.

‘Very funny’ you said with a laugh.

‘Seriously though, what do you think?’ Cillian asked.

‘I think Max would really love this idea and I would love nothing more than sharing a bed with you every night. I am just worried that you will get sick of me after a while’ you said.

‘I don’t think I could ever get sick of you Y/N. Just your cooking’ Cillian chuckled before telling you that he loved you.

‘I love you too Cilly’ you said before kissing him passionately.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.

‘It’s a yes, thank you’ you said before pushing him back onto the bed.

‘The lunch reservation is at 1pm Y/N’ Cillian said as you hoovered over him.

‘Forget about lunch’ you responded just as you threw your t-shirt to the floor.

However, just as you were getting down to business, your phone rang, not once, but twice.

It was Max’s preschool and you knew that it was urgent.

You quickly returned the call and were told that you must pick up Max as he had a fall on the playground.

You got dressed quickly and drove to preschool to pick up Max. You were advised to go to hospital to see whether Max’s arm was broken.

Being cautious, you followed the teacher’s advice and took Max for an x-ray at hospital. Luckily, it was just a sprain which should resolve with some rest. Unfortunately, by the time you got to leave the hospital it was 6pm. You were there for hours.

Cillian suggested that you and Max come over to his place for dinner. You gladly accepted the offer and this allowed you both to talk to your kids about moving in together.

As you told them, they were beyond excited and Max was quick to arrange a sleepover for the following night.

You and Cillian agreed but, for a change, arranged a babysitter to look after your three boys allowing you to go for dinner and to the movies with your friends which was something you didn’t do very often.

Movie Night

The next evening, Cillian’s sister came over to watch the kids. This was the first time you met someone from Cillian’s family and she was quite excited to get to know you.

Apparently, Cillian had told her and his parents about you already.

After you chatted with her for half an hour, you both made your way to the restaurant.

Unfortunately for you, your friends had invited Jeremy, unaware of the fact that he continued to message you daily much to Cillian’s frustration.

Regardless of this, both you and Cillian were polite as you sat down across from Jeremy and your friends.

‘What did you guys do with the kids tonight?’ your friend Amy asked.

‘My sister is looking after them at my house’ Cillian responded.

‘What about Max?’ she asked.

‘Max is at Cillian’s house as well’ you said, which is when your friend Amy slipped the news. You had already told her that you would be moving in with Cillian just before he starts filming again.

‘Oh well, better to get used to it. Living with 4 boys soon Y/N eh? That shall be interesting’ she said.

Her comment quickly raised a lot of questions, in particular from Jeremy.

‘You really are becoming a sugar baby Y/N aren’t you?’ he said sarcastically, causing Cillian to laugh. He tried very hard to take Jeremy seriously, but it was difficult.

‘A sugar baby? Is that even a word?’ Cillian asked.

‘You know what I mean’ Jeremy said.

‘No, please enlighten me’ Cillian responded.

‘Alright’ Cillian chuckled.

‘It’s none of my business Cillian, but why is that you actors have to get involved with women who are so much younger than you?’ Jeremy said.

‘You are right, it’s none of your business Jeremy’ you said harshly while Cillian tried hard to bite his tongue.

Your friends quickly changed the conversation after that but you couldn’t keep your hands of your boyfriend that evening simply to annoy Jeremy and Cillian played along.

‘I am sorry he’s been a tool’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear as you walked to the movies with your friends.

‘I find it very difficult to remain polite around him’ Cillian said.

‘I know’ you responded just as the theatre opened.

You took your seats and, to your frustration, Jeremy sat down right next to you, causing Cillian to get annoyed.  

After what Jeremy had said to you and Cillian, you refused to speak to him and largely ignored him until the movie started.

About twenty minutes into the movie, you started to get rather bored. You couldn’t believe that you had to be there for another two hours. Who decided to choose a two- and half-hour movie in French, with subtitles? Of course, you did, without doing any research.

You looked over to Cillian and noticed that he was disinterested in the movie as well and stopped reading the subtitles. It was evident, he was somewhere in dreamland, probably thinking about how he could annoy Jeremy after his most recent insult.

Noticing your boyfriend’s disinterest in the movie, you reached for his hand, running your hand over the top of his gently. You had his attention now and he gave you a warm smile for all you could tell in the dark theatre.

Taking his hand into yours, you guided it on top of your thighs which is where it sat for a while. Not getting the hint, you arched back into your seat and guided his hand further up beneath your loose cotton skirt.

Whilst you couldn’t see much, you noticed Cillian turn his head towards you. Just as he did, you guided his hand further up your thigh while biting your lip. You tried hard for your eyes not to leave the movie screen.

He finally got the hint and squeezed your thigh gently before handing you your cardigan from your bag.

You placed the cardigan across your lap just as Cillian lifted up your skirt slightly beneath it, giving him better access.

You glanced to your right to ensure that Jeremy, who was sitting next to you, didn’t see what Cillian was doing.

Luckily for you, he was intensely focused on the movie although, no doubt, your boyfriend would have preferred if Jeremy knew what you were doing. After all, Jeremy had just insulted him and it wasn’t long before Cillian and you got together, that Jeremy had told him that he would like to get into your panties.

Just as Cillian’s fingers wandered up your upper inner thigh, you released a sigh and parted your legs slightly while making sure that your cardigan provided enough cover.

By the time Cillian’s fingers reached the apex of your thighs and touched your panties, they were already damp.

You were grateful that the theatre was so dark because your skirt was up to the top of your thighs and draped over Cillian’s hand which would otherwise have been clearly noticeable beneath the thin cardigan.

You were panting with desire, just from Cillian stroking and squeezing your thighs and running his hand over your wet panties.

You slid down a bit in your chair and spread your thighs even more. The adrenaline rush had your inhibitions going out the window.

You could hear a slight chuckle from Cillian as he noticed you pushing your body down against his hand.

Just in that moment, you felt his fingers sliding your panties to the side.

Within seconds, he dipped a finger inside your wet entrance, gathering some of your natural lubrication, then moved it upwards toward your clit.

You sucked in a breath through your teeth, hissing quietly. By that time, you both had completely stopped paying attention to the movie.

Cillian started in a slow rhythm, circling your clit a few times, then dipping down shallowly into your entrance, repeating it over and over.

Your fingers were digging into his forearm on one side and onto the armrest on the other.

Your hips were moving of their own accord as you were whimpering quietly as Cillian’s fingers moved in and out of you.

Suddenly, it hit. You groaned quietly, gripping boyfriend’s hand, pushing his finger into you even deeper and grinding your clit against the palm of his hand.

Your walls clenched around his fingers as your orgasm washed over you and you couldn’t help it but let out a shallow moan.

‘Are you alright Y/N?’ Jeremy asked, noticing the sound you made while looking at you with some confusion.

‘Yes, I am fine’ you said bluntly and with a deep breath while Cillian pulled his fingers out of you with a grin on his face.

You handed Jeremy your popcorn before rearranging your skirt and handing Cillian your cardigan. At this point, he needed it more than you as his erection pushed against the zipper of his jeans.

‘Follow me’ you whispered into Cillian’s ear before standing up and excusing yourself, walking past Jeremy.

‘Where are you going?’ Jeremy asked.

‘Bathroom’ you responded. You were still annoyed with him and he wouldn’t get anything from you but stern and short answers.  

Cillian waited another minute or two before following you so that he wouldn’t raise any suspicion.

You waited for him in the front of the cinema with a big smile on your face.

‘You choose the worst movies’ Cillian said with a cheeky smile.

‘I have been enjoying it so far’ you smirked before taking his hand and pulling him towards the parents’ room.

‘Y/N, I don’t think this is a good idea’ Cillian said as you locked the door behind you.

‘Relax, it’s 10pm. No one will need this room until tomorrow. We will be safe. Despite, I know you, this won’t go down any time soon unless we get to it’ you smirked as you placed your hands on Cillian’s crotch before crashing your lips onto his with haste.

Without wasting any time, you unbuttoned his jeans and pushed down his zipper before running your hand inside his briefs and stroking his hard cock.

‘You’ve got ten minutes’ you said after breaking the kiss and before turning around, leaning forward over the wash basin.

Within seconds, Cillian lifted up your skirt and pushed down your panties before lining himself up with your wet entrance.

You smiled at him in the mirror as he gently pushed your legs apart and grasped the perky butt cheeks before him.

Cillian pried them apart and stepped forward. He was flush against you and you couldn’t help it but release a soft moan.

His cock slipped between your legs, and the head glided across your sensitive lips.

‘Fuck I want you so much’ you moaned as you pushed back against him in anticipation.

Without words, Cillian pulled back a little and then pushed up into your tight tunnel.

‘Fuck’ you moaned loudly as your walls stretched to fit his length inside you.

‘You got to be quiet’ Cillian whispered from behind you as he began to thrust in and out of you.

He gave you barely a moment to brace yourself before he gripped your hips and pulled back. His cock slipped out almost the whole way before he thrust his hips forward and dived back into your heat.

Cillian set a hard pace, knowing that you didn’t have much time together before someone would get suspicious.

You could hear his laboured breathing behind you as you held onto the basin tightly.

‘God yes’ you moaned quietly as the tip of his cock hit your cervix over and over again.

Cillian smiled at your reaction and reached down to grab your thighs. He spread your legs even wider. By that time, you were on your toes, with no leverage of your own.

‘Don’t stop’ you whispered as you could feel another orgasm build up in your stomach and, within seconds, your walls constricted around him.

You cried out a little too loudly, and your whole body shook as your orgasm slammed into you.

Cillian kept his brutal thrusts up as you rode out the waves of pleasure. Your legs trembled before him and he smiled as you whimpered with every thrust.

The contractions around his cock and your moans sent Cillian over the edge also and, shortly after you came down from your high, he reached his and filled you with his warm cum.

‘Fuck Y/N’ he moaned quietly as he slowly began to relax, his face resting on the back of your shoulders, kissing them gently.

After he came down completely, he pulled out of you and you could feel the mixture of his cum and yours drip down your thighs.

Cillian handed you a paper towel but you declined the offer and simply pulled up your panties.

‘I like to remember this for the rest of the night’ you grinned before giving him another passionate kiss.

Your comment earned you a chuckle but, deep down inside, Cillian liked the thought of knowing that your panties will be wet from his cum for the remainder of the night.

After making sure that no one was around, you left the room together and made your way back to the theatre together.

‘You’ve been gone for a while. Is everything alright?’ Jeremy asked as you sat back down next to him.

‘Yeah, I had to make a phone call’ you said just as Cillian sat back down next to you.

You both had a cheeky grin on your face as you watched the rest of the movie.

‘The movie was great, wasn’t it?’ your friend Alice asked as you left the theatre and Jeremy agreed simply because he knew that you chose it.

‘What did you think about the twist towards the end Cilly?’ she then asked.

‘Yeah, uhm…yeah it was alright’ Cillian said, not knowing what she was talking about.

‘There was a twist?’ you whispered to Cillian as you walked outside the theatre.

‘I think we missed the majority of the plot babe’ Cillian whispered back before taking your hand into his and following the others to the pub.

Jeremy kept starring at you and Cillian and you could notice the frustration on his face. You enjoyed it, a lot.

Later at the pub, Cillian received the usual attention from some young females. It always made you chuckle but it really annoyed Jeremy.

Despite the fact that Cillian enjoyed Jeremy getting annoyed, it soon became too much for him and, after about three drinks, you both decided to leave.

Getting Down to Business

You called a taxi and drove back to Cillian’s house.

‘It’s unbelievable’ you giggled sheepishly and slightly tipsy from the three gin and tonics you had earlier.

‘What is?’ Cillian asked, closing the door behind you.

‘All the attention you get from all of these young women every time we go out’ you said.

‘What can I say, it’s Tommy Shelby Effect’ Cillian laughed.

‘Hmm I think I get it’ you said and, just after this comment, you kissed him passionately just as his sister walked out of the living room.

‘Alright, I am going’ his sister chuckled.

You both thanked her for looking after the children and made your way to the shower. You both smelled like beer and popcorn.

Just as you got into the large shower together and were talking about the evening, Cillian couldn’t help it but complain about Jeremy.

‘You know, I am yours Cillian!’ you said as you ran your hands over his chest.

‘You are mine, are you?’ he chuckled in response to your comment which reminded him on his script for Season 5 of Peaky Blinders.

‘Yes…’ you whispered into his ear just before biting his earlobe gently while the hot water ran down in between you.

Cillian’s hands soon moved from your back down to your naked butt cheeks while his lips kissed the bare skin on your neck.

‘I love you Y/N’ he said in between kisses.

‘I love you too Cillian and I want you to fuck me as if you own me’ you whispered. ‘Take me the way you want to’ you added seductively.

‘You’ve been watching too much of this TV show’ Cillian said with a chuckle, referring to a new TV documentary series that you were watching on Netflix about BDSM.

‘It’s intriguing though, isn’t it?’ you asked running your hands over Cillian’s chest and down in between his legs. He grew hard almost instantly as you touched him.

Your face was inches away from his and you could see pure hunger and lust aflame in his eyes as you were stroking him gently. His warm breath fanned over your face like an aphrodisiac and the want in his eyes was intoxicating.

He remembered the last episode of the documentary quite well and grabbed your hair at the back of your head gently, causing the hot water to run down your breasts.

You bit your lip with excitement, fire building up in your eyes.

‘You really want to try this don’t you?’ Cillian asked, causing you to nod.

‘Alright’ he sighed with a smile and, with his free arm, he pushed you onto your knees almost instantly.

That’s it, exactly what you wanted.

He pulled on your hair, making you look up at him while you were biting your lips.

You suddenly felt a wretch in your stomach. Cillian wasn’t normally that forceful with you and you knew that, for him, it was a roleplay more than anything. Being with an actor clearly had its perks.

‘Is this what you want?’ he asked, causing you to nod again.

With his hand still firmly in your hair, he guided your mouth towards his hard cock.

You open your mouth willingly and, within one thrust, the head of his hard cock hits the back of your throat, making you gag.

You didn’t even try to pull away and he slowly and deeply began to thrust in and out of your mouth, giving your barely enough time to breath.

You gave into his rhythm as the warm water was running over your back.

‘God, your mouth feels amazing’ Cillian moaned, knowing that you enjoy it when he is talking to you while were intimate. You loved the sound of his voice.

Just as you got used to the sensation of being forced up and down his cock, he began to tweak one of your erect nipples with his free hand, causing you to moan around him.

‘Good girl, keep going’ Cillian said with a slight smirk as he toys with your nipple, pulling and rolling it between his fingers.

The pit of your stomach was set aflame and your thighs were slick with your juices.

With his cock in your mouth and your nipples being aroused, you are under sensory overload.

As he continued to thrust in and out of your mouth, you closed your eyes trying to concentrate on the raw pleasure that was radiating from your body in waves.

‘Look at me’ he demanded, causing you to open your eyes again and dig your hands into his thighs as he kept going.

‘That’s it’ he moaned, thrusting into your mouth a few more times before pulling you away from his throbbing cock and your mouth comes off with a satisfying pop.

Some small tears were running down your cheeks, your mouth sore from opening so widely and your hair was still in his hands. He roughly wiped away the saliva around your mouth and wrapped his hand around your throat gently.

You looked up into his blue eyes and wanted nothing more than for him to take you, fuck you hard.

‘Common, let’s take this to the bedroom’ he said as he began to notice the water getting cold.

‘Yes sir’ you winked, earning him a chuckle.

‘You defiantly are serious, aren’t you?’ Cillian said as you dried each other off. He was slightly out of his comfort zone but decided to play along as he could see the desire in your eyes. You were by far the most adventurous and kinky woman he’s ever been with.

Moments later, you made your way to Cillian’s bedroom.

‘I don’t think so’ Cillian said firmly as you reached the edge of the bed.

With his hand on your throat gently again and the other on your waist, he guided you towards the large reading desk in the bedroom.

‘Turn around’ he instructed and, as soon as you complied, he pushed you down onto the table.

Just as you your face leaned against the cold wood, he took both of your arms and secured both your hands behind your back.

Electricity shot down your spine as you tried to struggle out of his grasp teasingly.

You were completely under his control just as you wanted.

He put your two wrists wrapped around one hand and with the other, slowly traced a finger up your inner thigh.

You bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from moaning too loudly.

Cillian took his time, exploring every inch of your thighs and ass.

‘So sexy’ Cillian said as his fingers brushed against your wet folds, causing you to whimper.

He continued to run his fingers up and down your pussy, teasing to put his fingers in.

You whined and struggled against his grasp, your wetness started trailing down your thighs.

‘Oh god yes’ you moaned as Cillian slowly eased his fingers inside, scissoring his fingers as he went.

‘Shh’ Cillian said, knowing that you had to remain quiet with the boys in the next room.

Your mind went blank as pleasure shot through your nerves, spreading like wildfire.

Cillian’s fingers swirled around inside of you languidly, leaving no space unexplored and, moments later, he brushed against your g-spot causing you to jerk.

‘Stay still’ he said as he pressed his body down, immobilizing yours.

He knew very well that you liked to squirm when he reached your sweet spot as the intensity was too overpowering.

This time, you wouldn’t get away, no matter how hard you try.

‘Oh god Cillian, please’ you yelped, the feeling of his fingers on your g-spot being too much for you to handle.

But Cillian wouldn’t let you squirm away and you soon learned that you had to just give in, surrender to him.

But, just as you relaxed and could feel your orgasm approach, he pulled his fingers out of you.

‘Did I say you could come?’ he teased as he placed his fingers into your mouth, making you taste your wet juices.

‘No sorry’ you said, hoping that he would put his fingers back inside of you.

‘Sorry what?’ Cillian asked sheepishly.

‘Sorry Sir’ you grinned just before you ran your tongue along the length of his fingers.

‘Good girl’ he whispered just as he trailed his fingers back down towards your wet entrance.

Within seconds, they entered you again and continued where they left off.

You tried hard not to come right away and, after several more minutes, you couldn’t control it any longer.

‘Cillian please, can I come?’ you moaned, your walls already beginning to contract around his fingers.

‘No Y/N, you cannot’ he said, withdrawing his fingers once again, pulling your head back on your hair and kissing you passionately.

Just as he pushed you back down, you could feel him line himself up with your entrance.

Your hands were still pinned behind your back as he pressed the tip of his cock into you slowly. Your walls clench instinctively.

‘Don’t you dare come until I’ve given you permission’ he murmured into your ear as he pushes into you torturously slow.

‘I promise I won’t come without permission’ you said as you could feel Cillian’s body against yours and his hands gripping over your hands pinned behind your back and your hair.

‘Good girl’ he whispered as he continued to push inside you slowly until he was completely inside.

You tried to wriggle so you could adjust to his size, but Cillian held you in place. He slowly moved out until only the tip remained inside and thrusts back in deeply.

You moaned loudly into the table as he continued his rhythm, fucking you slowly but deeply. Your mind blanks, pleasure rocking through your body.

You could feel him tighten his grip over your hands as he slowly pulls out and slams into you, eliciting a yelp.

‘Yes, oh god, yes’ you moaned loudly as he began to pick up the pace, knocking you almost breathless.

Your moans caused Cillian to place one of his hands over your mouth gently. You were way too loud.

You felt like a wound-up toy, yearning to be released from the tension. With every thrust, you come closer to your orgasm. He's hitting you fast and deeply, but not enough to send your over the edge. You whine and whimper, weakly struggling against his body. You are so close, teetering on a cliff.

‘Please’ you moaned into his, desperate for your release.

‘Please what?’ Cillian asked as he thrusts in and out of you and removing his hand for just one moment to allow you to speak.

‘Please let me come’ you responded.

‘You will need to do better than that’ Cillian said as he thrusts into you even deeper.

‘I do anything, please’ you moaned, your walls beginning to clench around him.

‘Anything? Hmm, alright, that seems like a fair deal’ Cillian said picking up the speed.

With those words, you let go. Pleasure rocked through your body like a wave.

You tried to fight the feeling of falling and flying at the same time as your orgasm washed over you.

Cillian moaned at the same time as he felt your tight walls close around his cock and, with three more thrusts, he came inside of you.

You could feel his cock throb inside of you as your legs shake from the powerful orgasm.

Just as you both came down from your high, he slowly pulled out of you, causing some of his cum to leak out.

He released your hands and helped you up from the desk.

You turned around to face him and, with one of your hands, you reached in between your legs collecting some of his cum before licking it from your fingers suggestively.

‘I enjoyed this’ you smirked, causing Cillian to stare at you in disbelieve.

‘You are naughty, aren’t you?’ he chuckled just before giving you a kiss.

‘Yes I am’ you smirked before you both made your way to the bed.

By that time you were exhausted.

You curled up in each other’s arms and shared some gentle moments together.

‘I am looking forward to sleeping in this bed with you every night’ you said.

‘So do I’ Cillian responded, before turning off the light.

Morning After

The next morning, you got woken up by the smell of pancakes and three missed calls.

Your father had tried to call you to congratulate Max on his recent soccer medal.

You returned the call and handed the phone to Max while you joined Cillian in the kitchen for a coffee. Just as you were drinking your coffee, you listened to Max speak to his grandfather on speaker.

‘So how have you been Max?’ grandpa asked.

‘Good poppy, we are having pancakes’ Max said.

‘Mum made pancakes? Do they taste any good?’ grandpa laughed.

‘No Cillian made pancakes. Mum and I are moving to his house soon and then we can have pancakes every weekend’ Max said.

‘Cillian? Who is Cillian?’ grandpa asked.

‘Mum’s boyfriend’ Max responded, causing you to choke on your coffee.

‘Can you please put your mother on the phone’ he said.

To be continued…..

  ‘

#cillian murphy #cillian murphy smut #Cillian Murphy x Reader #cillian murphy imagine

[avintagekiss24]

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

[pinestripes]

Quiet Day (The Last of Us)

Summary:

The last few months in Jackson have been paradise compared to the hellish cross-country road trip that came before. But scars still run deep, and shadows can lurk around even the brightest corners. 

Ellie has a bad day. Joel wants to help.

Rating: T for a bit of language

Can also be read here on AO3 and here on FFN.

Author’s Note:

I liiiiive! Feels good to publish something for the first time in...a year, actually, as of yesterday. I've had a busy and stressful year, though I'm sure a lot of you can relate. Anyway, I just love TLOU (as much as someone who has only watched playthroughs of it can), and I especially adore Ellie and Joel's dynamic. Thank you for reading!

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Joel is a light sleeper and an early riser. The latter has been a trait of his for most of his life; the former, however, developed by necessity once not being able to jerk awake the instant something went bump in the night became a death sentence. Both of these qualities together means that he rises before the first rays of sunrise stream into his room.

He throws on stained jeans and an old shirt. Scrubbing a hand across his bleary eyes, he lumbers into the bathroom. Once done in there, he heads downstairs and to his front porch, sinking into the rocking chair there with a sigh.

He opens the worn science fiction novel he’s been making his way through for the past week or two, quickly thumbing through the brittle brown pages before finding the one he dog-eared the day before. He wasn’t a big reader, back before everything went to shit, but he had been known to pick up a sci-fi or western, sometimes even a mystery novel, every once in a while.

Joel reads in the soft morning light for half an hour or so before he exchanges the book for the guitar that has been resting by the front door. He lazily strums a few bars of a couple different songs, humming. Ellie will be awake soon, and it’s their morning ritual that when she comes down he helps her practice for a little while before breakfast.

Contrary to his expectations, Ellie doesn’t make her appearance. A familiar anxiety, one he feels less and less often the longer they stay in Tommy and Maria’s compound, clamps down on his chest. He stands and leans the guitar against the wall, the instrument making a discordant twung when he drops it less than gently in his hurry. He stalks into the house and through the barebones living room, eyes on the stairs to the second floor as his footsteps quicken and the clamp squeezes, squeezes, squeezes—

He jerks to a stop when he sees movement out of the corner of his eye. He whips his head around to peer into the kitchen. Ellie is sitting there hunched over at the table, nibbling at a piece of buttered toast.

Suddenly Joel feels a little foolish. His heart is pounding, breathing shallow and quiet. He forces himself to take two slow breaths in and out, feeling the clamp slowly release, lungs expanding and taking in air once more. Finally, he says, voice nearly steady, “There you are, kiddo. Thought maybe you were still asleep.”

Ellie startles, looking up at him with a sharp intake of breath. (He’s surprised she didn’t hear his heavy footsteps into the house from the porch, actually.) Her shoulders relax again when she sees him. “Morning,” she says and returns to her toast.

Shaking off the last of the adrenaline rush and deciding he may as well join her for breakfast, he pads into the kitchen and starts getting out supplies for omelettes, thanking his lucky stars the hydroelectric plant has been providing the town with electricity, and therefore refrigeration, consistently for the last few weeks. “What do you want in your omelette?”

She doesn’t answer.

“Ellie?”

“Hm?”

“What do you want in your omelette today? I got some more green peppers from the garden yesterday, and we’ve got some ham, believe it or not—”

“I’m just going to have the toast today.”

“That all?”

“Yeah, I’m not really hungry.”

“You sure?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He leaves it alone and goes back to making his own breakfast. Usually Ellie would be chattering up a storm by now, but when he’s nearly finished with his omelette and she still hasn’t said a word he finds himself speaking again. “So, didn’t want to do guitar today?”

Silence.

“Ellie?”

“Yeah?”

He sets the omelette on his plate and brings it to the table, taking a seat to her left. “You alright? You seem kind of out of it this morning.”

She shrugs. He notices she hasn’t made much headway on the piece of toast. “I’m fine. M’just tired. Didn’t sleep much. What did you ask?”

He quirks a doubtful brow. “I asked if you didn’t want to practice the guitar today.”

“I just thought we could...take a break today.”

He nods, and returns to eating, deciding once again not to push the issue. By the time his plate is clean she’s finishing the last few little bites of the toast. They both stand to wash their plates and utensils. Per routine, Ellie washes and Joel dries.

Concerned with the continued silence, he decides to give one last try. “So. It’s Sunday. Got any big plans?”

“No, don’t think so,” she responds.

“Not gonna go see Jessie, or, uh, Dina? Or anyone?”

“Nah.” She scrubs at a pan mechanically. “I think I’m just going to stay in and read a book.”

“Alright, then.”

They finish up, and Ellie heads upstairs to her bedroom. He goes to bring the guitar back in from the porch, then stands in the middle of the living room for a minute, feeling a little lost. Finally he sighs and heads out back to weed the vegetable garden. He can tell it’s going to be a quiet day.

Every once in a while, something—a nightmare maybe, or maybe a bandit attack, he can’t always figure it out for sure—will shake Ellie. She’ll retreat into herself, go quiet and distant. She’ll be spacy and—well, he isn’t sure what else to call it but flat. Which is decidedly not Ellie-like.

He’s learned that if he tries to push too much, if he tries to convince her to get out of the house or to talk to him, she gets cagey and defensive. So, even though he hates to see her light so dim, he gives her space and makes sure others do the same. Sometimes she’ll reach out to him of her own accord, looking to talk or a distraction in the form of a guitar lesson. She’s usually back to herself by the next day.

It’s lunchtime once he’s weeded the garden and patched up a few wobbly posts on the porch railing, a continuation of his ongoing attempts to renovate the house. He heads up the stairs and to Ellie’s door. He raps his knuckles against it twice. At her affirmative response, he opens the door and pokes his head in. “I’m thinking I’m going to head to the mess for lunch. You hungry?”

She’s laying on her bed in a loose fetal position, facing the door with a book lying open in front of her at an angle that suggests she hasn’t actually been reading it. “I’m okay.”

“You sure? You didn’t eat much for breakfast.”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine.”

“Suit yourself, then.” He almost shuts the door, then remembers something else. “Hey, Tommy mentioned something about a roof needin’ fixin’ yesterday. He might try and drag me into helpin’ him with that after we eat, so it could be a couple hours before I get back. That okay?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He doesn’t worry; he knows it’ll be a few hours at least before she wants company. “Alright. See you later.”

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

Tommy does drag Joel into helping fix a roof, and it takes almost three hours, but he finally finds himself at Ellie’s door again.

He knocks on it, twice again. “Hey, uh...just wanted to let you know I was home.”

“Okay,” she responds through the door.

“...I’ll be downstairs.”

When she doesn’t respond, he walks away, intent on continuing his ongoing Sunday project—fixing the floor in the downstairs bedroom. He’s been replacing the busted up hardwood in the downstairs bedroom little by little on Sundays—when everyone gets the day off in town, with the exception of a regular rotation of necessary jobs like patrol duty. It gives him something to do.

When it gets close to 5:30, according to the cracked, flickering display on the oven, Joel squares his shoulders and heads back to his familiar place outside Ellie’s door.

He knocks, asking “Can I come in?”

“Yeah.”

He opens the door to see that she has shifted onto the floor, leaning against the side of the bed that’s facing the door, a book in her lap. He thinks she might have actually been reading it, which is a good sign.

“About time for supper. Ready to head over to Tommy’s?” Sunday night dinner at Tommy and Maria’s place is a regular part of their routine. Joel and Ellie host dinner on either Wednesdays or Thursdays, depending on the schedule.

She shrugs. “Eh, I’m not really hungry.”

Joel’s already decided that he is going to press the issue this time. She seems a little perkier, so he figures it should go over okay. “All you’ve had today is some toast. And they’re expectin’ us.”

Ellie pulls a face. It’s not as exaggerated as usual, but it’s close. “Do I have to?”

He jerks his head in the direction of the door. “Come on.”

She sighs and pulls herself up off the floor before shoving her hands in her pockets and trudging out the door. He follows behind, the twitch of a smile on his face.

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Ellie’s still quieter than usual at dinner, which earns Joel questioning looks from both his brother and sister-in-law. He just answers with a shrug and a meaningful look, which they accept, already having witnessed a few of these days before.

As they finish up their lasagna, Joel goes ahead and suggests watching a movie. He knows Ellie loves the compound’s movie nights just as much as the little ones.

“Can we?” she asks eagerly, a familiar spark flickering in her eyes.

Tommy and Maria look at each other. “Well, sure. Why not?” Maria says.

They clear the table quickly after that and select an action movie that Joel is pretty sure he caught on TV one night ages ago when Sarah was at a sleepover. The pang the thought sends through him is quick and biting, but the way Ellie bounces in her seat on the couch with anticipation helps him put the thought to rest once he recognizes it.

He takes his seat next to her. Ellie starts out resting against the arm of the couch, chin propped in her hand, but by the beginning of the movie’s second big action sequence she’s shifted to lean into his side. He adjusts so they’re both a little more comfortably settled into each other, his arm draping around the back of the couch.

Neither of them move for the rest of the movie, except for when Joel’s arm shifts to settle around her shoulders.

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

By the time the credits roll, it’s dark out. They walk through the cool fall night back to their house. Joel is glad to see that the movie night has helped Ellie perk up to her normal self. She babbles about the film’s effects and discusses the story’s various plot holes and inconsistencies. For his part, Joel mostly just listens and occasionally responds in agreement.

“I mean, what even was the bad guy’s plan?” she asks. “The bald asshole kept babbling about missiles or something, but I’m pretty sure he never actually said what they were going to do with the missiles. Right?”

“Don’t believe he did,” Joel responds.  

“And why did that one agent think going in without backup was a good idea? I mean, yeah, it was badass, but it was obviously going to fail from the beginning.”

“Don’t rightly know.”

“And for pete’s sake, why did the woman agent not have pants on for half the movie?”

“Because the people who made the movie were gross old men, probably.”

Ellie snorts. “You’re probably right.”  

They lapse into a companionable silence for a few minutes before Ellie suddenly leans over to nudge Joel’s arm with her elbow. “Hey.”

“Hm?” he questions, turning to give her his full attention from where it had been scanning the night sky—as far as he can tell, the single positive effect of the apocalypse is the decrease in pollution, including light pollution, which means the sky is blanketed in stars no matter where you are.

She sticks her hands in her jacket pockets, looking away with flushed cheeks and scuffing the heel of her shoe in the dirt before turning to look him in the face. “Thanks, Joel.”

He doesn’t need to ask what for. “Anytime, baby girl.”

#the last of us #tlou #joel miller #ellie williams #naughty dog #pinestripes babbles #my writing #man it feels so good to publish something again

[stovetuna]

Imagine Steve/Avengers walking in to Tony entertaining two soldiers in the common room and being really confused because Tony??? Despises the military??? But then find out that those two soldiers are actually from the “fun-vee” way back in IM 1 and Tony’s fitting them with prosthetics.

ahhh this has been stuck in my head for DAYS anon! I don’t necessarily agree with the assessment that Tony hates the military, per se (doing business with the military and the military industrial complex, however, and all that that toxic shit entails, definitely yes), BUT it’s such a heartbreaking/warming concept I had to run with it! I think I got it right with Air Force vs Army, but the movie was kinda vague—I’m going off of the fact that the driver said “I’m an airman,” which you would not say if you were in the Army.

and since the airmen (and woman) Tony was traveling with in the Fun-Vee are canonically deceased, I thought I’d have Tony do something…well, Extremely Tony™ to compensate…

(::whispers:: also we’re just gonna pretend that the Bucky-killed-Tony’s-parents-revelations of Cap 2/3 aren’t a thing in this vaguely alternate MCU universe. la-di-da, la-di-da…)

***

It’s not surprising to walk into the Avengers common area and see Tony Stark working on something no one can quite comprehend. That’s par for the course, really, as commonplace as days that end in Y. Machines, phones, tablets, watches, the toaster after Hulk pressed the cancel button a little too hard—they’ve seen Tony futzing with just about everything that exists in the Tower (and some things that don’t—couldn’t—exist anywhere else except where Tony is). 

What the team isn’t expecting when the elevator doors open onto the communal floor that sunny Tuesday afternoon is a living room scattered with men and women in various states of modest undress, all of whom immediately pivot in place to take stock of the new arrivals. Three men, one woman, and in the middle of their protective circle is Tony, eyes blazing with the same thrill of invention he often gets in the lab, a pair of needle-nose pliers clenched in his teeth.

Steve in particular notices the way Tony looks, because he’s developed a bad habit of doing that over the past year and change, and he’s kind of helpless at this point. Tony’s backlit by the afternoon sun, preoccupied with whatever he’s doing with the strange woman’s arm to distraction, and Steve can’t be judged too harshly—anyone with eyes would drag theirs over the exposed muscles of Tony’s arms, the shift and flex of his shoulders, the firm taper of his waist, the pronounced curve of his a—

“Are we, uh, interrupting something?” Clint has to shout to be heard above the music blasting from all corners of the room. 

Tony looks up from his work and waves his free hand, the one that isn’t wrist-deep in what looks remarkably like a prosthetic arm. He makes a ‘cut it off’ motion to his neck before taking the pliers out of his mouth while FRIDAY lowers the rock music to a dull background hum. 

“Hey! Sorry, I tried to keep it to the lab, but these guys wanted to see where the Avengers hang out, and I couldn’t say no.” 

Steve tears his eyes away from Tony (who should really work the sweaty-and-disheveled-mechanic look more often) to take in the others in the room with him. It’s a panorama of people, and the first thing Steve notices, besides their more obvious differences, is how comfortable they all are with each other, to the point that walking in on this moment feels invasive, almost rude. 

The four are all of remarkably different builds and backgrounds, not a similarity between them: an African American man, no taller than Steve was before the serum, sits on the couch; a white man, thin as a rake and twice as tall, is reaching for a glass of water on the coffee table; an Asian American man, whose shoulders are somehow even broader than Steve’s, stands rigidly next to Tony, arms folded across his chest; and the lone woman, whose glossy black hair is wound tightly in a bun at the back of her head. Steve notes the beautifully elaborate Native American tattoo covering the expanse of her shoulders and upper back. 

Then Steve notices the high-and-tights, the form-fitting, drab beige shirts they’re all wearing, the combat boots lined up behind the loveseat, and he realizes, much like he did with Sam that morning in DC, oh—these are my people.

“Ah, well, welcome to the octagon!” Clint says with an easy smile, stepping forward to shake hands and say hello like a normal human being. Natasha gives Steve one of her looks before she and Sam follow him into the living room—I don’t know any more than you do.

Bruce, Wanda, and Vision stay behind with Steve to let the first wave through. Steve watches his teammates greet the airmen without fanfare, welcoming strangers into their private midst like it’s routine. 

“Didn’t know y’all would be around, else we would’ve stayed outta sight.” 

Sam laughs, clapping the sitting man on the shoulder. “Dude, if Tony told us you were here, I would have come downstairs and bugged you, myself.” 

“Sure, PJ—you just wanted to see what real Air Force muscle looks like,” the man grins, flexing his barrel chest hard enough to strain his shirt. Sam guffaws and gives him a friendly punch to the shoulder, which the man returns in kind with a fist to the kidney. 

Clint is already deep in conversation with the redheaded beanpole, who talks so fast it’s dizzying; Natasha is standing next to the third man, keeping her eyes forward, and together they watch Tony disappear back into his work, muttering things back and forth to each other, so quiet even Steve can’t hear. 

“I think all is clear,” Vision says smoothly, drifting forward with Wanda, who is visibly fascinated by the woman’s tattoo until she steps into the throng and sees something that makes her face fall. 

Steve moves forward, curious and worried in equal measure. Bruce is hot on his heels. 

“—I mean it’s crazy right? It’s crazy, Tony Stark, Tony Stark calls us up out of the blue one day and says ‘You’ll be waiting six months to a year for a decent repair job, let alone a complete replacement, and I owe you guys, come on by Avengers Tower—”

Redhead is gabbing excitedly, gesticulating like Tony does when he’s in the mad depths of an invention binge. Steve sees the glint of metal and hears the whir of mechanisms working smoothly together in tandem and realizes both of the man’s hands are prosthetic. 

“Oh man! Oh, man! Captain, sir, wow, it’s—fuck, shit, my mama would kill me for swearing in front of you, fucking—shit, sorry, fuck—ah, damn it!”

Steve smiles and introduces himself—Corporal Bill Levee, apparently, is just as talkative up close. For all that his hand is made of metal, his grip feels remarkably, tangibly real. 

While Bill goes back to talking compound bows with Hawkeye, Steve looks at the man on the couch. Sam and Vision are now sitting on either side of him: both of his legs end at mid-thigh, and in their place are what look like brand-new metal limbs, designed to match his proportions exactly. The metal is dark, shiny, beautiful. He looks thrilled. He looks even more excited when Steve approaches, leaps to his feet and doesn’t even balk at the fact that Steve is a head and change taller than him and a superhero—he just steps right up to Steve and jabs him once in the shoulder with a grin. 

“Captain Rogers,” he says, and sticks out his hand. Steve shakes it. The man points a thumb at himself: “Captain Freddy Harrison. A little after your time, sir, but an honor to meet you regardless.”

Bill is still talking a mile a minute behind him; Freddy sits back down on the couch and lets Steve continue his “Captain America Meet-and-Greet” but makes him promise to come back and swap stories, which Steve does, happily, even as his mind whirls. How does Tony know these people? Why are they here? Where did these prosthetics come from? 

Bruce has joined Natasha, standing apart from the rest to talk to her and her new friend. Steve stops to say hello, as is only right, waiting until he’s entered the man’s line of sight to do so. Only then does he realize that the man has no line of sight, because both of his eyes are prosthetic. 

“I’m not completely blind, Captain,” he says, voice low but good-humored. Next to him, Natasha smothers a smile behind her hand. 

“Steve, this is Sergeant Daniel Kwon,” Bruce offers. The sergeant smirks and extends a hand—the eyes in his sockets look incredibly lifelike, but don’t move even a fraction of a millimeter. They gleam, still, with an uncanny sense of knowing. Steve has a sneaking suspicion they see more than enough and match his original eyes perfectly. 

“I’ll still make an exception in your case, Sergeant Kwon,” Steve replies, shaking his hand, “for not saluting a ranking officer.”

Dan chuckles under his breath.

“Let’s see your battlefield commission and then we’ll talk rank, sir,” he says. 

“Ugh, men.”

Steve turns around, and there’s Tony, flipping shut a panel high on the woman’s left arm with a smile. He pockets the pliers and drags the back of his forearm across his glistening forehead. Somewhere in the back of Steve’s mind, a saxophone is blaring. 

Honestly, the intrusive thoughts he could deal with, but the fact that Tony looks this good after hours of hard labor really isn’t fair. 

“Seriously, barely two minutes in and you military guys are at it like frat bros at a kegger.” Tony looks sidelong at the woman, who rolls her shoulders with a pop and a groan. “How do you manage?” 

“Easy,” she says, “I let them drink until they pass out and then I run back to the women’s barracks with all their clothes so they have to walk across the TOC butt-naked.”  

“I think we need to compare our respective strategies,” Natasha says, taking Wanda’s arm on her way to greet the other woman. “This is Wanda; I’m Natasha.”

The woman turns to face them. Her features are striking in a way that makes Steve think of old friends from the war, men he met on those rare occasions he had leave. He’d listen to Native American Code Talkers tell stories of land and legacy and home, stories older than anything Steve had ever known. He’d never been so humbled. 

“Delores,” she replies, shaking their hands. “But please, call me Del, or I’ll never hear the end of it.”

Steve looks at Tony, who giggles—giggles—and mouths ‘Umbridge.’ Del must have ears like a bat, because she smacks him smartly with her prosthetic arm and Tony yelps before devolving into outright laughter. Steve could watch and listen to Tony laugh—that big, gut-wrenching cackle Tony thinks is unattractive but Steve thinks makes Tony look like happiness personified—all day. 

The conversation devolves quickly from there, and within a couple of excitable minutes, the airmen are eager to get a look at the Avengers’ game room. They pile into the elevator, talking animatedly over each others’ heads, placing bets and picking teams as the doors close. 

In their wake, Steve’s ears are buzzing, and he realizes with a jolt that he’s now alone. With Tony. 

It happens often enough that the fact itself isn’t jarring, but something about being alone with disheveled-frazzled-happy-sweaty Tony sets Steve’s nerves on high alert. Tony is loose-limbed and relaxed, moving in and out of Steve’s space as he picks his way around the living room barefoot, looking for discarded tools. 

“There you are,” he coos at a tiny device that looks remarkably like a laser pointer. Knowing Tony, it’s probably a real laser. He pockets it, assumably to put away later (or fish out of the laundry at the last minute). 

“Who are those people, Tony?” 

“Friends of friends,” Tony replies. Steve also knows Tony well enough to recognize his I am being deliberately vague voice when he hears it. 

“Uh-huh.” Steve sits on the arm of the sofa, legs stretched out in front of him. “And who are they really?” 

“Who wants to know?”

“Me,” Steve says gently, scratching his palms with dulled fingernails. “They’re strangers, and they’re in our home. I think if you were in my shoes you’d want to know.” 

Tony stoops to pick up and pocket what looks like a dissected nine-volt battery. Steve kind of wants to ask, but he’s too distracted by Tony’s ass in those black Levis to ask any cogent questions. Seriously, he wonders, are those painted on?

Only when Tony sighs, and quite heavily, that Steve realizes this was more than just a friendly house call (of sorts) on Tony’s part. He watches Tony stand up, facing the floor-to-ceiling windows bright with the glow of sunset, and admires the way Tony suits the view so perfectly. He looks good all the time, but like this—skin burnished gold, brown eyes honeyed by the light—he’s something else. Someone Steve wants, desperately, but like most things in his life, knows he’s not allowed to have. Tony Stark is beyond him in so many ways. Reaching for him seems futile, so Steve stays on the ground, and looks. 

Tony fidgets nervously with a mini Phillips Head screwdriver, twiddling it in his long, clever fingers as he stares out the windows at the city sprawled out beneath them. 

“They’re from the same company as the guys in the convoy I was with when I—when they—” his voice sputters out before he can say the words. Steve doesn’t push. He doesn’t say anything. He just waits for Tony to gather himself. It’s one of the hardest lessons he’s had to learn about Tony Stark—sometimes it’s better to let him get a handle on himself, rather than jump in and try to handle Tony for him. It doesn’t change the fact that Steve wants nothing more than to hold his hand, now that it’s hanging at his side like its string was just cut. “A while back I dug into Air Force records, talked to Rhodey, got some names. Five people died in the hit that was meant for me. I figured, the least I could do was find five of their closest buddies who needed help.” 

Tony glances back at Steve—the little smile on his lips could break Steve’s heart if he let it.

“And I’ve heard you talk about how convoluted the VA is when it comes to services and benefits and whatnot. I figured, my tech probably took their limbs, I should cut out the middle man and give them new ones, myself.” 

Something in Steve’s heart shifts irrevocably before kicking into a whole new gear. By the end of the sentence, Steve knows he’s going to do something incredibly rash, the only question is when. 

Funny—ten minutes ago he was coming back from a team exercise, prepared to give Tony a friendly but firm talking-to about missing it, and instead here he is, breathless, heart racing, sitting and listening to Tony talk humbly about fixing people because he knows it’s the right thing to do. Because it’s the least he can do. And isn’t that the wildest understatement Steve’s ever heard? 

As if anything about Tony Stark could ever possibly be least. 

“You built them all those prosthetics?” 

“Top of the line!” Tony smirks, saluting Steve with his Phillips Head. “Nothing more high tech in any of them than a heart rate monitor and some other odds and ends—no rocket launcher eyes, don’t worry. I kept my baser urges in check with these.” 

“It’s good,” Steve blurts out, too loud and too fast. Tony inhales sharply, fingers clenching around the screwdriver hard enough his knuckles go white. Steve feels his face go hot and groans. “I mean, what you did—what you’re doing—is good, Tony. It’s really generous of you to do that for those guys.” 

Steve crosses his arms across his chest to make himself feel safer, more contained. If he doesn’t, who knows where these ridiculous feelings might go. He feels silly enough as it is, blushing and stammering while dressed in his uniform, sans helmet. Even Tony’s probably wondering why he’s wasting his time talking to a red-white-and-blue fossil when he could be downstairs destroying Clint and the others at pool or showing the airmen around the tower, giving them the bells-and-whistles tour. 

Tony looks at the floor, away from Steve. Steve feels it like a physical thing, Tony pulling away, retreating, wanting to hide. Amazing, how a man who almost literally wears his heart on his sleeve still thinks he doesn’t have one. 

“Yeah, well,” Tony mutters, “it’s good practice, anyways.” 

Steve’s thoughts grind to a halt. 

“Practice for what?” 

Tony starts moving around, shuffling back and forth across the living room floor, looking for something that probably isn’t there. Steve knows when Tony is avoiding eye contact with him—it happens often enough. 

“Just a pet project, nothing major. Hey, have you seen my cable knife anywhere?” 

“Did you leave it on the floor? Tony…”

“I know, I know, the only thing worse is Legos, but I was busy! You can’t blame me for—OW FUCK!” 

Like a shot, Steve is up and holding on to Tony so he doesn’t hop backwards into the glass coffee table. One arm wrapped around his back and the other hand on his bicep, Steve steadies Tony as Tony searches underfoot for whatever hurt him. 

He comes up with a magnet the size of a dime. 

“Ha,” Tony wheezes. “Speaking of Legos.” He drops it into his pocket along with the laser pointer and whatever else is in there and hangs his head. Rubbing his brow, Tony says: “God. I could sleep for a week after today.” 

Steve keeps holding Tony. He should let go, but opportunities like this so rarely present themselves. Plus, Tony feels so good under his hands, strong and warm and just small enough to envelope in a hug if Steve let himself, if Tony wanted him to, and Tony does look dead on his (adorable, bare) feet…

“What else have you been working on today? This pet project?” 

“Hah?” Tony breathes, still wincing slightly from stepping on the magnet. “Oh yeah. For Bucky, when you find him. Ow, motherfucker, that hurt…”

The thing about being in Tony Stark’s presence is, it’s so easy to lose the plot. Tony’s mind moves faster than Steve could ever hope to match, mentally or physically; he’s always one pace behind, catching up. It’s fine, though; he actually kind of likes it, being challenged the way Tony challenges him, delighting in the push-pull of their banter and debates, the way Tony teaches him about science and tech and the 21st century without being condescending. Steve gets to a point where he thinks he knows Tony, how he operates, how his brain works—then moments like this happen, and it’s like he’s sprinted smack into a brick wall. 

“What?” 

“What?” 

“Bucky, you said—are you designing a new arm? For Bucky?” 

Tony seems to notice their position at that exact moment. Steve feels him blaze with heat where his hands are touching Tony’s bare skin. 

“Uh. Maybe?” At Steve’s look, Tony bites his lip and sighs. “Fine. Yeah, I am. Can you blame me? The thought of Sputnik wandering around the tower with that Cold War-era paperweight hanging off him when I’ve got brand-spanking-new, finely-tuned StarkTech all but ready to go? Perish, Steve, perish the thought.”

Tony is smiling up at him from his place in Steve’s arms, relaxed now, almost leaning into him, and all Steve can think is, he belongs here. 

“What’s that face?” Tony asks, curious but still smiling. He pokes Steve in the middle of the forehead with a cheeky grin. “Keep frowning like that, your face’ll stick.”

When, apparently, is right now. 

When Steve reaches up and takes Tony’s hand, he gets to watch Tony’s thoughts run into the wall, for once. 

When he weaves their fingers together, he gets to watch Tony’s mouth click shut and his eyes go wide. Super-hearing means he can count the beats of Tony’s racing heart without having to feel them. Steve’s telegraphing every movement, every feeling, as much as he possibly can now that words seem to have escaped him. 

He must manage okay, because the look that passes over Tony’s face is the same one Steve’s seen in the mirror a thousand times since the day he realized he was halfway in love with Tony Stark: wonder, one part lost, one part found. 

When he leans down, slowly, Steve gets to watch Tony’s beautiful eyes flicker and shut. He counts the dark lashes where they rest on Tony’s high cheekbones, breathes in his smell and listens to the shudder in his exhale before drawing him in for a kiss that draws everything else to a quiet, blissful blank.

When Tony pushes his fingers up into Steve’s hair, scratching lightly at the nape of his neck, Steve drops his arms around Tony’s waist and pulls him in close with a soft groan. He’s warm and messy and still holding that damn screwdriver, but he kisses Steve soft and eager like it’s the only thing he wants to do for the rest of his life, folds himself into Steve’s embrace like he wants to build a home right there in his arms. 

One day Steve will tell him he already did, a long time ago, and it wasn’t the least of anything. 

*** 

more fics on AO3!

#rachel writes fic #I really should slow it down but this one would NOT leave me alone! #tony stark #steve rogers #stevetony #superhusbands #stony #stony fic #stovetuna #prompt fill #this is EXTREMELY SOFT #hopefully it makes up for the angst of the last one ;____; #also lol @ myself thinking ‘this one will be shorter’!! #UGH I FORGOT AIR FORCE RANKS ARE DIFFERENT DAMN IT! #blame my late night brain

[epochofbelief]

Breath Control, Chapter Fifteen

An A Court of Mist and Fury College Swim Team AU 

All characters belong to SJ Maas! 

Feysand and Elriel

Author’s Note: Enjoy a bunch of fluff written kinda quick and stay tuned for the announcement for my next fic! Can’t believe only the epilogue is left of this story:) 

Masterlist Link !!! 

FIFTEEN!!

~~~Feyre~~~

“Love the room.”

Having just dropped my suitcase and swim bag on the floor of my new bedroom, I turned to find Rhys leaning in the doorway. 

“Thanks for letting me move in,” I responded, lugging the suitcase from the floor to the bed, ready to start unpacking. 

“Are you ready for training to start again tomorrow morning?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Mr. Still-Slightly-Out-of-Shape. I’m kicking ass right now, if you hadn’t noticed.” 

Rhys slumped down across my bed, his black hair a rumpled mess. 

“Please. Give me one more week and I’ll definitely be traveling to our next dual meet.” 

I gave up on packing and sat next to him. He placed a warm hand on my back, moving it back and forth across my t-shirt. I shivered slightly. 

“Coach is going to announce the rest of the team going to the Conference Championships by the end of Christmas break.” As hard as I tried to keep my tone even, I knew my voice shook as I said what I’d been thinking about for the past month. 

His hand stilled on my back. 

“You’re not worried that you won’t make it? You just got back on the travel team, Feyre. That basically means you’re going.” 

“Yeah, but we don’t know that for sure. I sucked at Conference last year, remember? And I’ve sucked ever since.” I stood up and grabbed an armful of rumpled clothes out of my suitcase. Keeping my eyes on the floor, I padded over to my dresser and shoved the clothes in. I remained there for a moment, staring at the top of the dresser.

“I’m pretty sure those were dirty,” Rhys’s voice came from right behind my back, making me jump and spin around to face him. 

“Ohmygosh you scared the shit out of me,” I breathed, eyes still on the floor between us. 

“Feyre. Look at me.” 

I bit my lip and raised my eyes to his. 

“You’re going to make that team. And if you don’t, it doesn’t change who you are. I’ll love you just the same, if that helps.” 

In some ways it frustrated me that him saying those words was nearly enough to make me feel better. I hated that I was worried about this, that I would be so massively crushed if I didn’t make a stupid sports team. But in most others, I was overjoyed to hear it. My swimming, be it good or bad, didn’t define me as a person. As long as I was giving it my all, day in and day out, the rest was out of my hands. And I cared about swimming, and wanted to be good, even if I’d lost sight of that drive for a while. 

I really wanted to make that team. 

“Besides,” Rhys continued, his hands coming to rest on my hips. “I should be the one begging you to accept me whether I make the team or not. My injury has really pushed me to the bottom of the barrel.” 

I threw my arms around his shoulders and pulled him close. “Thank you. And you know you’re going to make the team. Injury or not, you’re too damn fast for Coach to risk not taking you.” 

He buried his face in my hair. “True.”

I pulled back and smacked his arm. “Watch out, I think your head just swelled to twice its normal size, you humble man.” 

He raised his hands and backed away a few steps. “I speak the truth, and nothing but.” 

I smiled. 

“And that applies to everything I just said about you, Feyre. You deserve to go. You’ve improved so much over the past few months. Especially when I was out of the picture.”

I frowned. 

 “In fact, maybe I should just go…” He continued to back away, aiming for my bedroom door now. 

“Shut up. Get your stuck-up ass back over here!”

“No, no! This is what’s best for you, Feyre darling. I’ll just bid you adieu, and maybe we can talk after Conference. I think that’s the best plan.” He stepped into the hallway and out of view. 

Arms crossed, I stormed into the hallway. I knew he was joking but I could feel my blood boiling. I turned right, aiming for the stairs I was sure he’d be walking up at that moment, and ran straight into a wall of muscle.

I stumbled backwards, but Rhys seized my wrists before I could get very far.

“You know I’m kidding, right?” He kept his grip on my wrists firm.

“I know, but that doesn’t make you any less annoying!” I gazed up at him, breathing heavily, glaring. Keeping my wrists in his grip, he leaned down and brushed a featherlight kiss to my lips. 

“Do I annoy you when I do this?” He pushed me against the wall, both my wrists now pinned above my head by one of his hands. The other he placed on my waist as his lips met mine briefly, oh so briefly. “Because I can stop, if you want me to.”

“Don’t stop,” I whispered, his lips barely a millimeter from mine.

He kissed me again, his free hand roaming up and down my side. “But I thought I bothered you, Feyre darling,” he purred, his breath hot against my neck as he trailed a line of kisses down my shoulder, pulling the collar of my t-shirt back as he did so. 

I managed to shake my head. “No.” 

“Good,” he said brightly, letting me go.

He pushed off the wall and strode briskly into my bedroom.

“What the hell?” I shouted.

“Love you,” he called. “Now come unpack!”

“I take it all back! You win the prize for most annoying boyfriend-slash-roommate ever.”

“Then why are you following me into your bedroom?”

“Dammit,” I muttered, closing the door behind me. 

-----

~~~Elain~~~

Ten minutes into the movie, Azriel and I were wrapped up together inside an enormous quilt and several fluffy blankets. A bowl of popcorn mixed with M&M’s rested between us. My head was on his shoulders, his hand on my thigh. It had been a few weeks since my concussion and this was the first movie I had been allowed to watch since. I hadn’t been able to use my phone or look at any screens per the doctor’s instructions. I was lucky I’d been cleared to focus on things close to my face just in time for school to start tomorrow. And thus, with my “staring at things” privileges returned to me, I planned on staying in that comfy spot on the couch until the end credits rolled when…

“I have to pee.”

I slowly turned my head to look at him. “You did not just say that.”

“I’m sorry, I do!” He started shifting under the quilt but I just nestled closer to him. 

“Nooooo. Why didn’t you go before?”

“What am I, five? I didn’t have to go then!”

“If you weren’t before, after saying that you’re definitely five now.” 

“Just stop the movie so I can go!” Azriel glared at me stubbornly. 

“You have chocolate on your face,” I said, reaching up to rub my thumb against his chin. “Such an adorable five year old.”

“Where’d we land on that movie?” He asked, batting my hand away, but not until I’d removed all the chocolate.

“You should have gone before. Go now but I’m not pausing it! It’s your fault for never having seen Jurassic Park before.” 

“My mother hated anything that had to do with dinosaurs, okay? I never got around to it! Please pause it. Please?” 

“What will you give me?” I said from the corner of my mouth, my eyes locked on the TV even though I had long since shifted my attention away from the screen and toward my immature boyfriend instead. 

“I’ll make it worth your while. Trust me. But please pause the movie--and rewind it a couple minutes. I've missed everything.” 

I made a large show of sighing and reaching for the remote that lay a few feet to my right on the couch. “Fine. Go on, then.” 

He was up and out of the room in a flash. He must really have had to pee. 

Not two minutes later, he was back. 

“DId you wash your hands?” I goaded from the couch.

“Oh my God, Elain, yes I did! Drop the five year old thing.” 

“Okay, okay, it’s dropped.” 

He sat back down, covering himself with the quilt. 

I giggled. He poked me in the side. 

“Okay really. I’m done. Can I press play now, dear?”

“Yes!” 

But after only five more minutes of watching, Azriel, his arm around my lower back, started rubbing small circles on the outside of my thigh. I kept my gaze locked on the screen. After I didn’t respond, he grazed his nose up the side of my neck, kissing the small patch of skin behind my ear. 

“Azriel.”

“Hmmm?” He pressed another kiss just below my ear, then another and another, trailing farther down my neck. 

“You’ve gone twenty-one years without seeing Jurassic Park. Think you could wait another night?”

“I’d hazard a guess and say I could survive another several nights with you and without the movie.” He murmured, now making his way down the skin of my chest that my v-neck left exposed. 

“Alright then.” I shut the TV off and moved the bowl of popcorn to the other side of the couch. 

Azriel pounced. 

He laid me back on the couch and hovered above me. He paused an inch from my lips. “You’re sure? Not five minutes ago you were yelling at me for making you pause the movie for two minutes. . .”

His hands started tugging down my leggings. 

“You must be mistaken,” I breathed, reaching for the hem of his shirt. 

His hand pushed mine away. “I’m pretty sure you’d rather watch that movie right now than do anything else. Or have anything else. . . done to you.” He cocked an eyebrow. 

I pulled him down on top of me.  “Shut up about the movie already,” I said, and kissed him. 

His tongue swept in as his hands made short work of my underwear. I now wore only my pajama t-shirt as his hands drifted toward the exact spot I wanted him to focus on. Our kisses became frantic, heated, before he lowered his head over me and made me forget entirely about the movie.

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

TAGS

@queen-of-glass​ @fabfire​ @sleeping-and-books​ @aknymph​ 

#a court of thorns and roses #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses au #acotar #acotar au #acomaf #feysand #elriel #feyre archeron #rhysand #elain archeron #azriel #fanfic #acotar fanfiction #fanfiction #sarah j maas #breathcontrol ar ff

[kinetic-elaboration]

March 19: 2x11 Friday’s Child

Finally watched this week’s TOS. This was a hard day again and I’m tired and basically as soon as the ep ended my mood deflated again but I think I can write up a few notes and then crawl right back into bed again.

Another episode about negotiating for a mining treaty, huh? (I’m keeping track of all of these, roughly, for my own Nefarious Purposes).

The aliens are seven feet tall and they wear silly outfits.

Wow, what a dumbass red shirt. You’d think Starfleet would train people NOT to just randomly draw their weapons in diplomatic situations.

I honestly forgot there were Klingons in this.

DC Fontana wrote this!! I forgot that too.

Lol Kirk just drops the deceased red shirt. And then keeps holding his hands out like ‘what am I to do now?’

“They want to negotiate for our rocks. Our stupid, useless rocks. Everyone wants our rocks! So weird.”

I’m actually kind of surprised DC Fontana wrote a Klingon ep but like... I guess it’s not that surprising given this guy doesn’t even have a name and is also really dumb lol. At least he’s not in brownface.

When Kirk and Spock disarmed I didn’t realize they were throwing down their communicators and I was a little confused as to why they had to carry so many phasers each.

Kirk’s pretty upset about the crewman’s death, which I get, he always goes feral when one of his people dies and I appreciate that about him... but that guy really did fuck up lol.

I like seeing Scotty in command.

Oooh mood lighting in the tent. And Spock is meditating I think.

Emotion is “inefficient and illogical.” No wonder Kirk thinks they can never be in love!!

And yet jealous is also inefficient and illogical and I detect some of it in Spock when the blonde Cappellan comes in.

“They consider combat more pleasurable than love.” Hmm sounds like someone else I know.

... Honestly I wish the Grounders had been like this. I feel like there’s more thought in creating this society in one episode than in creating that one over 7 seasons.

I love Bones in this and his role as cultural translator.

The Federation believes in self-determination.

“The sky does not interest me.”

I really do dig the world building here. There’s so much going on in this one ep, even just in part of an ep, and you really get the sense that this is a whole world with its own rules and customs and values, and its own complex political machinations that our mains have really just wandered into.

Also the soundtrack today is NOT messing around. TV composers just don’t go this hard anymore, sorry.

Oooh now the Klingon’s afraid at the prospect of fighting Kirk.

The Enterprise just walked into a coup I guess.

Lots of fighting! Kirk must be having fun.

Scotty is so commanding! I feel like he and Uhura were already friends at this point. Like whenever he’s in command she seems really comfortable just wandering up to his chair all the time.

Also why are they ALWAYS signing stuff?

Yessss silent triumvirate communication.

“To live is always desirable.” I mean she’s not wrong but so much for being willing to die without a fuss lol.

It’s kind of wild how this ep started out being about a mining treaty and drama with the Klingons and all of this alien political drama and then basically becomes all about saving one (1) pregnant widow (and themselves) from huge, ,hostile aliens in funny feather boas.

Sulu insulting Scotty’s knowledge of ships lol. Not smart.

Can’t believe the Klingon couldn’t get his weapon back but Kirk got his communicators back no problem. Who is the smarter alien?

They’ll find us BY SCENT ALONE what a detail to just throw in there!

Lol this whole scene with McCoy and Eleen is hilarious and ridiculous in equal measure. Like I can’t entirely blame her for not wanting to be touched intimately by a strange alien man (rude!!) but also I do enjoy McCoy’s gruff insistence that he WILL care for his patient. This is what AOs didn’t get about “Grumpy Bones.” He’s not mean, he’s just...not up for niceties when he has a healing to do. He WILL care for you dammit!

And he has soft hands.

Spock is loving this.

Kirk’s subtle reverse psychology. “Well if you don’t think the communicator plan can work” and then Spock like “I didn’t say that exactly...”

They aren’t human, they’re humanoid!

And again, the subtle taunting/goading of Bones: “Well if you can’t do it...”

I’m a doctor, not an escalator! One of the best lines.

Detective Scotty. Kind of ridiculous how he solves the case of the taunting Klingons luring them away from the planet...but then sticks around a bit more just in case.

The child is McCoy’s!

Spock is so uncomfortable with this giving birth thing. “Oh look Captain, vegetation!”

“Just repeat ‘The child is mine.’“ “Yes, the child is yours.” Lol.

Arts and crafts with Kirk and Spock! I love that this is a McCoy ep with subtle space husbands in the background.

Favorite moment though is McCoy trying to teach Spock how to hold a baby. “I would rather not, thank you.”

“Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on...won’t get fooled again.”

I love that Chekov is consciously messing with them about everything being from Russia.

Also the absolute GALL of the Klingons trying the exact same ship luring technique a second time.

Can’t believe that Bones wants to go off and have fun with the boys and just leave the baby alone in the cave. You’re a dad now McCoy!! Be responsible!

“Small patient.” Yes very small!

Cool little robot battle station unfolding at the helm.

I feel like when Kirk and Spock have that exchange about cavalry coming over the hill and Spock says "if by that you mean..." Kirk should have answered, "I thought I just said that." But then that wouldn't be very Kirk of him. He never makes fun of Spock.

This Klingon is not having a good day!

Scotty and the redshirts here to save the day.

I guess Maab wasn’t so bad after all. And Elaan is perhaps a little confusing, but I admire her desire to both save herself and adhere to her people’s traditions, even if those are incompatible desires.

Spock absolutely IS going to consult linguistics about baby talk. Probably Uhura specifically.

LEONARD JAMES AKAAR. Absolutely one of the top 5 final bridge scenes. They really missed an opportunity to return to the planet in a later movie or series and interact with the Teer.Captain Picard meets Leonard James Akaar.

This was a good ep! I really only remembered the Bones and Elaan parts with the baby, so I forgot all of the political machinations and stuff in the beginning of the ep. It’s a pretty solid world building episode and of course, lots of McCoy, can’t go wrong with that.

I actually think it makes a lot of sense for Bones to be the child’s “father” tbh. Like, I know everyone thinks it’s funny but like... in our culture, we assign pseudo-parental roles to people who aren’t blood relatives of children based on the adult’s relationship with the child’s blood relative and that’s arguably weirder. Like you can be a kid’s step father by marrying his mom even if you really don’t have any relationship to him, so why shouldn’t McCoy, who saved Leonard’s mother’s life and delivered him, and convinced her to actually desire to raise him, be considered his “father”? ESP given that this society seems to have no place at all for fatherless children. They just can’t conceive of such a thing. So “father” has to encompass something other than, or not strictly limited to, biological father. She was so quick to assign McCoy fatherhood status, I have to assume this happens a lot, that people take on that role for non-bio children.

Not a lot for Spock to do today but I think he had fun. He got to explode some rocks and make some bows and shoot some arrows. And Kirk got into a lot of fights so I think he enjoyed himself.

I don’t know if I believed the Cappellans were 7 feet tall but they did look broad and alien so I will give them that.

It was nice to see Scotty in command again. I’m so mad at AOS still for making him comic relief. I think he’s actually quite a serious person. Talking with my mom, I’ve decided that the crew can be grouped into ‘cracks jokes through a crisis’ and ‘generally gets very serious in a crisis, reserves humor for calm moments’ and while Sulu, Chekov, and Spock are in group 1, Scotty is definitely in group 2 with Kirk and McCoy. (Uhura seems generally lighthearted and fun loving but not funny per se so I don’t know how to group her.)

Also this is one of the early filmed Chekov episodes (as you can see by the hair) and he spends it, again, at Spock’s station. It’s so obvious he was introduced as Spock’s protege, not as the navigator, which I think is very interesting. Like I want to hear the backstory on that.

Next week’s episode is The Deadly Years, which I remember as being very solid.

#star trek tos #the year 2021 #2021: star trek #2021: star trek tos

[red-moskito]

24. April. 2020

Málaga, Spain

For many of us, the last time it felt like the whole world was having the same conversation was on September 11th, 2001. For me, it was also the day I left London for Faedis, Italy. A few people around me on the train were murmuring about some kind an attack. When I got the airport, it was so quiet. People stood frozen in front of televisions watching two plumes of black smoke rise into a blue sky.

I’d met Marco while he was in London for a couple days to sell some wine. We both quoted Biggie Smalls and the Big Lebowski. He was just getting the family vineyard going as a proper business. I had no plans beyond the next weekend. I said I liked the idea of working on a vineyard. He said, cool. 

The house was a kitchen and a bedroom above the cantina. Almost everything inside was older than me. The roof in the bedroom sloped down to the floor. We opened a few bottles and ate dinner. 

While insects buzzed and chirped outside the windows, we watched our world reorganize itself towards endless war on television. It was cold that night. We slept under scratchy blankets on little beds made during times of less abundance. 

I stayed until the end of October. We often ate lunch in Orsaria with his parents, Paolo and Miriam. I liked them. They acted as if Marco had just found a younger brother they had somehow misplaced. I also liked their house. It was big, beautiful and warm. They had comfortable sofas and a computer for sending sentimental emails and downloading mp3s. 

I did my best to match their enthusiasm for every course. E buona la pasta, Tito? Si, si... buonissimo! Marco, perché non mangia di più? When I got sick, they had a doctor come to the house. He brought a stethoscope in a leather bag. Nonna introduced me to grappa as medicine. The first glass felt like hot wax going down my throat.  

I annoyed Marco with my plans to marry his sister Barbara, even though she thought I was a sfigato. We drove down gravel roads to parties in little bars where his friends played reggae like some of mine did back home.

No matter how late we stayed out, or how many bottles we left empty on the table, Marco was up with the sun and ready to work. He’d drink flat Coca-Cola before his coffee. Some fuel to get the engine started, man. Good for the stomach. 

Winemaking is agriculture, science, art, design, engineering, sales, marketing, gambling, guessing…. When there aren’t vines to trim, there are tanks to check, fertilizers to buy, grapes to take to the laboratory, grass to cut, cases to deliver, bottles to label, fill, cork... People we’d meet throughout the day said, buon lavoro as goodbye. 

Whenever something could go wrong, it often did. Marco’s momentary frustration would quickly just become something else to laugh about. Stay calm. Piano, piano. We have to be the Tom Cruise of the situation, man. 

Sometimes he would sketch out the plans for our day on scrap paper. Little cartoons of machines, grapes, tanks and tubes with arrows between them. Numbers and notes floating around the edges. He never drew us. We were always moving anyway. 

During the vendemmia a crowd arrived to help. Friends, traveling workers and his family, of course. Nonno laughed and shook his head at me and my allergies. I never really got the hang of the tractor, but I loved cutting the grapes free. We stacked crates and tipped them into presses. They all knew far more about my country than I did about theirs. We debated the merits of Sublime, compared Berlusconi to Bush and retold our favorite Simpsons episodes. Every day we all ate lunch together on the patio beneath a sunshade of interwoven vines. 

The wine we made went to tables all around Friuli-Venezia-Giulia and parts of Europe. I brought a few bottles with me when I left for Torino. Some went to rest on shelves in the cantina.   

The last time I was in Faedis was in August 2016. Marco still sings while he’s walking between the rows of vines. 'Biggie Biggie Biggie can’t you see…’ I mean come on. man. He was really the best. You know it. The best... ‘It was all a dream. I used to read Word-Up Magazine…’ 

The TV in the kitchen is gone. There’s a wood stove there now. They watch movies projected on the wall of the room we used to sleep in. A futon for guests has replaced the little beds. Marco had remodeled the house to make room for another proper bedroom. 

He dug out some grimy bottles of our wine. It was six years younger than I was when we made it. I didn’t get to see Barbara. Paulo and Miriam’s house is now a bed and breakfast. Go there if you’re ever near Orsaria. It’s even more beautiful now. 

Friuili is 300 km from Lombardia. In February, Marco and I started talking and texting about the virus. I’d already started veering away from people on the sidewalk. There was a movie I wanted to see in the cinema, but I didn’t go. I avoided the port full of cruise ship passengers. But I still went out. 

On March 6, I’d had an internal debate about going to the botanical gardens on my day off. It’s outdoors. It’s low season. It’ll be empty. It’s windy and warm. And anyway, Málaga isn’t Bergamo. I rode my bike there, and while I was locking it, I reconsidered again. I saw a couple walking down from the mountains across the road. Should I just hike up this trail instead? Instead I went inside. I’d only been in summer before. I wanted to see what it looked like at the beginning of spring. 

While I was having my coffee, a woman sat at the other end of the picnic table. When she started blowing her nose, I told myself it would be silly and rude to get up. Then she started coughing. I looked at the unwrapped sandwich I had brought from home. My open water thermos. Mentally measuring metres and wind speed. Still feeling like I was being ridiculous. Her daughter brought the drinks and sat down. Ecco la tua mamma... I picked up my things and moved to another table.

I spent the next half hour telling myself I was being paranoid while trying to focus on the plants in the sunshine. Doing impossible math in my head. There are 60 million Italians.... they could have been traveling for weeks... maybe they live here... anyone could have it... there are so many old people here... I heard that man couch under is hat... it could have been on the coffee cup anyway… the bartender washes them in the sink... how hot is that water?

I walked to the end of the gardens where a gazebo was built for the view of the cathedral and the sea. I watched turtles swimming around the little pond. Marco texted me. Stay at home. I called him to tell him about the Italian women and my paranoia. They walked by while I was on the phone, and I moved upwind. Still feeling ridiculous. 

He was calm as always. The main problem is there aren’t enough beds for the, how do you say... the reanimation. The people they are just fucking dying in the corridors. They don’t know for sure who is the patient zero, but the patient one or two. He’s a 38 years old guy. He’s been on the fucking respirator for weeks. In Cividale there are three cases. It’s crazy, man. What we have to do is just fucking close everything like they did in China. But that will never happen you know man, because this is Europe. 

Two days later the Italian government locked down Lombardia and fourteen other provinces. The following day they extended to it include the entire country. Within a week, most of Europe followed suit.

Seven weeks later the Italian government agrees with many of you about the essential nature of wine. So Marco is still working. Since the lockdown started, he’s been in the hospital twice. He was in a car accident in March, and then something more serious happened in April. 

He sent me a selfie from the hospital bed. I called him and he answered laughing. His wife had thought he was faking a stroke to play a trick on her. Fucking unbelievable, man. I tried to drink the juice. You know in the morning, the orange juice, and I put it all over my t-shirt. I couldn’t put it to my mouth. I couldn’t say nothing. I was like blah, blah, blah. My brain was no good. Anyway, how are you, are you good?  

The hospitals in Udine aren’t overwhelmed, but he was only allowed one visitor per day. He asked his mother to bring his laptop, so he could get some work done. Everybody say rest. Rest, rest, rest. Okay, I’m in the bed. 

When he was discharged he sent me a photo with his wife and baby walking between the vines. Their daughter, Emilia, has unruly red hair. In every photo she looks overjoyed and a little surprised to have found herself inside her new body. Are you ok? Super ok, man. Super ok. They were all smiles. Glowing in the green grass. Paola looks far too smart to have fallen for either of us back when we would try to out-charm each other every time a woman arrived at the vineyard. 

Marco’s still getting up with the sun. But fewer and fewer Italians have money for wine. He’s not loading pallets with boxes bound for dinner parties in Oslo or Chicago. No American tourists will be giggling at his accent this summer. The local restaurants are dark and full of stale air. 

For almost twenty years, whenever I’ve called Marco to talk about moving or just getting away, he reminds me of my house in Faedis. 

Next to the front door there are photographs of family and friends working together since long before the days of color. Behind the house, up on top of the hill, there is a little shack with the year 1867 written above the door. It will still be there once our world has reorganized itself yet again. 

So will we. 

https://www.cecchinimarco.com/

http://www.dorsariabedandbreakfast.it/index.php/it/

[nctxnation]

Crush

➳ Pairing: Jaehyun x Female Reader

➳ Genre: Angst | Best Friends AU

➳ Word Count: 3.6k

➳ “That’s why they’re called crushes, because you get crushed.”

“I am not watching Sixteen Candles,” Jaehyun whined as he plopped down on the couch, hand already digging into the large bowl of popcorn. You were gathered at his house for your annual Last Day of Summer movie night “Let’s watch Die Hard. Last year you got to choose the movie.”

“How about The Notebook?” You suggested already knowing the answer. You bit back a laugh as Jaehyun’s face screwed up in distaste.

“You can’t disrespect me like that in my own house, Y/N,” He grinned flicking popcorn at you. “How about we flip a coin. Heads it’s Die Hard, tails it’s Sixteen Candles. No Notebook.”

“How is that fair to me?” You said taking the empty spot next to him. “What if I choose The Notebook instead?”

“Ah, no, you chose Sixteen Candles first, tough luck kid.”

He pulled out a coin and you both watched with bated breath as it twirled in the air. The coin landed and Jaehyun immediately hollered in joy as he went to grab Die Hard. You can’t say you were mad. Seeing Jaehyun so child-like as he gleefully watched Die Hard and murmured every line made your heart squeeze. You didn’t know why,

It’s safe to say, you didn’t pay much attention to the movie but to the boy next to you.

You watched as Jaehyun bounced his legs nervously, his eyes shifting from side to side. You two were sitting in the courtyard, basking in the bright sunlight and going over the reading material for your classes.

“What’s got you so worked up?” You asked playfully flicking his leg.

He jumped slightly, picking at the edges of his shirt with shaky fingers. He didn’t meet your eyes, instead opted to stare at a stray fray of fabric from his shirt.

“Can I ask you something?” He seemed so sheepish and it blossomed warmth in your chest.

“Sure,” You dropped the books on your lap and propped your chin on your clasped hands, giving him your full, undivided attention.

“Have you ever liked someone so much it consumes you?” His stare flickered around the courtyard, never settling on one thing for too long “You get those--stupid butterflies when you see them. You can’t stop thinking about them.”

“Wow, Jaehyun--”

“I’ve never felt this way before, Y/N,”  He sounded pained. All you wanted to do reach a hand out and yank him right into your arms. “This is stupid, right? I’m freaking out over nothing.”

“You’re in love, Jaehyun.”

The words tasted like poison dripping from your tongue, but you shoved all the feelings stirring inside you aside.

Jaehyun sucked in a hissing breath, clamped his hands over his ears, and rocked back and forth like a child.

“Don’t say that!” He sputtered, shaking like a petulant child having a temper tantrum. “I’m not the lovey-dovey type. Don’t be gross, Y/N.”

Beside the conflicting feelings bubbling within you, a laugh broke out of your lips, “Okay, okay Valentine’s Baby. It’s a crush.”

“A crush.”

He rolled the words around his mouth as if he were trying to make sense of it. Slowly, you watched as the words sunk in, his face morphing from shock to disgust to defeat.

“You do know what a crush is, right Valentine’s Boy?”

“Yes, Y/N, I’m not stupid,” He sighed dejectedly, pulling at his hair. “I hate having such an intense crush on someone. Why is it so exhausting?”

You shrugged wanting to deflect all the attention he was suddenly giving you. He turned to you watching you with curious eyes.

“Haven’t you ever had a crush before?”

“Look, who’s talking,” You defended weakly. “You’re the one having a crisis over your first crush.”

“This isn’t my first crush, don’t be silly,” He chuckled, “Just the most intense one. Haven’t you ever liked someone?”

“Yeah, remember how I got rejected last year?”

“No, that doesn’t count,” Jaehyun shook his head, his brown hair caught the sunlight making it glow a beautiful amber. “I mean like having a heart-stopping, tongue-swelling, cringe-worthy crush. A super intense crush that makes you have a crisis.”

“No, Jae, I’m not a drama queen like you.”

“I’m serious, Y/N,” He whined, grabbing your hand. You ignored the pulsing in your stomach from his touch. You blamed the sweltering heat.

“Look, Jae, there just isn’t that many guys that I find interesting around here,” You admitted, although neither of you seemed to be fully buying it. “Let’s just focus on this crush of yours and less on me, okay?”

“Fine,” He conceded letting go on your hand and tousling his hair nervously one more.

Your cold hand laid limp on your own lap. You two always held hands, ever since you were little. It was a nervous tick for both of you. Whenever one needed immediate comfort you reached for an open hand. You never thought anymore of it. Except now, you craved the feel of his hand more than anything. His touch felt different. It made you feel warm and tingly and at home.

Stop being so silly, Y/N.

“We’ll fix me, then we’ll find you a man,” He smirked, his eyes trailing after a group of guys. “How about Doyoung?”

Doyoung was another person from your mutual friend group. You had all grown up together, watched each other go through awkward adolescent phases

“He’s practically like my cousin twice removed, don’t be gross, Jae.”

“I’m focusing on the twice removed part,” He grinned mischievously, “That’s practically not related, right?” At your glared, he relented, “Okay, okay, how about Taeil?”

“He’s like an older brother,” You plucked the book off your lap and smacked him on the side, “Stop naming everyone in our group, they’re family. Stop promoting incest, Jaehyun, and focus on getting yourself a date.”

He blanched, “Date?”

“Well, if you have a crush on someone, naturally you’d want to ask them out.”

“Whoa, I still haven’t moved past the whole crush thing yet, let’s take this slow.”

“We’ve been over this, you’ve had crushes before. I’ve witness them.”

“Yeah, but not like this,” His voice took on a serious note, “Ji Woo is different.”

“Ji Woo? Lee Ji Woo?”

Of course, Jaehyun would choose the prettiest, smartest girl in your grade to crush on. You had nothing on Ji Woo she was kind and was always very patient whenever she had to partner up with you in Chemistry. She was so timid and reserved and never spared a second glance at Jaehyun. Which, in hindsight, shouldn’t shock you as to why Jaehyun liked her. He wanted someone who didn’t constantly fawn over his charms. She truly was different in his eyes.

“Look, can we drop this?” His voice was strain as he spoke, “She thinks I’m annoying. There’s no way it’ll go anywhere and I’m sure this intense crush will go away in no time.”

“Are you sure?”

He nodded in affirmative and cracked open his book, pouring his whole attention on studying. He was adamant about his crush going away.

Jaehyun was horribly and unsurprisingly wrong. His crush didn’t fade away with the last remnants of summer, no it rolled through the winds of autumn. You found out Ji Woo and Jaehyun had been sharing desks in on of their shared classes this year, which was why Jaehyun’s past interest in her had grown into a full-blown crush.

Ji Woo was either oblivious at Jaehyun’s obvious feelings or very pointedly ignoring them. You had a nagging feeling inside of you, which you detected down to wanting to just meddle in their blossoming relationship.

Which is why you found yourself cornering an unsuspecting Ji Woo after a tutoring session with some other student. You claimed you needed her help with Calculus, but really you were only there to fish for information.

After the first few problems, you finally mustered up the courage to ask her what you really came in to the library for, “So, I see Jaehyun and you are getting close.”

“He’s my desk mate,” She smiled warmly at you, writing diligently on your workbook as you solved the rest of the problem.

“Just desk mates?” You quirked an eyebrow at her, prompting her to add on.

“Don’t worry, I won’t replace you if that’s what you’re afraid of,” Her eyes gleamed down on you. “You’re pretty special to him, Y/N.”

“He says I’m the annoying piece of gum he can’t scrape of his shoe,” You giggled finishing the last of your Calculus homework. “Charming isn’t it?”

“You mean a lot to him. He speaks highly of you.”

“Sure, sure,” You waved her off, but her words made your heart skip a beat. Was Jaehyun really speaking so well about you? “Would you see yourself dating him?”

“What?” Her face faltered and her eyebrows pinched together. “Jaehyun and me dating? I thought...I thought you two were just dancing around each other. Don’t you like each other?”

You choked on your own spit, “What? Jaehyun and me? Oh my God, I think I’m going to throw up.”

Your mouth was saying one thing, but your heart was beating a million miles per minute. The thought of Jaehyun possibly liking you didn’t make you queasy. If someone had said that last year, you would have already upchucked your lunch all over your homework. Now, however, all it made you want to do was break out into a full-blown grin.

You bit your lip, suppressing you grin and the whirlwind of unknown feelings swirling inside you threatening to be let loose.

“You don’t like him?” She tilted her head to the side, analyzing every micro expression on your face. You must’ve been a very good actress, because upon seeing your expression she finally deduced her own conclusion, “Wow, I guess, I was wrong then. You don’t like him.”

She’s absolutely right. You can’t possibly like him right? He’s your best friend. Your childhood friend. Your brother even!

“I mean, if that’s the case, I guess I can see myself dating him,” She confessed, mouth forming into a hard line. “He’s not annoying as I thought he was, but I really thought I’d be the one playing matchmaker to the two of you.”

“Ha, good one Ji Woo,” You really wanted to cry now. “Look, sorry to break your bubble, but Jung Jaehyun doesn’t like me. He has a crush on you. An intense, heart-stopping, tongue-swelling, cringe-worthy crush.”

“He does?” Her eyes twinkled and you almost wanted to say no. Almost.

“Yes, he does. So, can you throw him a bone, please? He’s getting really annoying.”

“If you’re sure you don’t have feelings for him.”

Some part of you wanted to scream that you did have feelings. But you couldn’t right? He was your friend. Only your friend. Nothing more. You wouldn’t regret doing this because he was your friend and he had a crush on her, not you.

“I’m sure, Ji Woo. Now, let me play Cupid, please. You won’t regret it.”

“Okay, if you’re sure, Y/N. I trust you.”

Ji Woo didn’t regret it, you however did. Now, it was your turn to be the one horribly and unsurprisingly wrong. Jaehyun was shocked the first time you invited Ji Woo to sit with your group at lunch. Doyoung had choked on his milk before making awkward signals at everyone in the group.

It was like something in Ji Woo had switched on. She was more vibrant and open around Jaehyun. She blossomed like a fresh lily in front of you own eyes captivating the whole lot of boys at your lunch table.

“Why did you bring Ji Woo?” Jaehyun had asked, pulling you aside as the bell had rung signaling the end of the lunch hour.

“I’m helping you out, Bubble Brain,” You nudged him, eyeing as Doyoung told Ji Woo a story as they collected their empty trays and walked to class “You said you liked her right? Or was that just a lie? Do you not have a crush on Ji Woo?”

His dark eyes were on you, making you squirm under their power. He looked like he was contemplating something in his head, his eyes shifting from Jiwoo to you. He sighed, scuffing the ground with the tip of his shoe, avoiding your stare completely.

“You don’t have to play matchmaker, I told you to drop it,” Was that a note of dejection you heard? Was he disappointed you had meddled? “I wished you wouldn’t have interfered.”

“I’m sorry if you think I’ve gone and muck things up,” You bristled, “Forgive me for trying to do something nice for my best friend, my practical brother.”

His gaze snapped up to you, unwavering and flashing with emotion, “Brother?”

“Yeah, you’re like my brother, Jae,” He was far from it and the fact that it was finally starting to sink in, scared you. “I just wanted to help you out like a friend should. Sorry, if I overstepped my boundaries. I just wanted you to get the girl.”

His voice was bittersweet and his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes, “I don’t think I’ll get the girl, Y/N.”

“What do you mean, you idiot,” You playfully poked his cheek, something you did whenever you wanted him to smile wide enough his dimples became visible. “Ji Woo totally has a crush on you. Just help me by letting me help you. Your happiness means a lot to me.”

He was silent for a moment, his face never revealing any of his innermost thoughts, “So, you want to set up Ji Woo and me?”

“Yes, Jaehyun, and you say I’m the slow one. She is your crush, right?”

He nodded, unable to find the words to tell you that Ji Woo had been the first name that had popped into his head that day. All the while he was thinking about you. Feeling that intense, heart-stopping, tongue-swelling, cringe-worthy crush about his childhood best friend. The girl who only saw him as a brother.

“Okay then let me help you win you crush over.”

Jaehyun had been right. Crushes were exhausting. They were also painful. You had managed to ignore the growing warmth you got whenever you saw Jaehyun, the torturous squeeze your heart gave whenever he got close enough for you to catch his scent.

The full force of your feelings hadn’t hit you until they finally snuck up on you. A couple of months had gone by and Ji Woo had become an honorary member of your group. You had really pushed for it, shoving her and Jaehyun together at any chance you got. You kept telling yourself that it was the right thing to do, even if it didn’t feel right.

You had all decided to enjoy finishing off exam season by going out to the movies.  Well technically, instead of cramming last minute you guys would go to the movies the day before exams to de-stress. The the following days your school always held a dance after finals, right before break and usually you and the whole group went together. You always ended up dancing with Johnny, Jaehyun, and Taeyong. One year Doyoung, Ten, and Taeil even roped you into having a dance off.

As you were leaving the movies and walking into your favorite pizzeria, Jaehyun suddenly pulled Ji Woo to the decide. The boys hollered and whooped and Jaehyun just waved them off sheepishly. Your eyebrows pulled together in confusion, not understanding the gist of the situation.

“What’s going on?” You whispered Doyoung as everyone began to dig into the pizza.

“Hmm? Oh,” He quickly shoved rest of slice into his mouth and cast a furtive glance your way, “Jaehyun didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?”

Doyoung looked like he didn’t want to be the bearer of bad news but he continued, “He’s asking Ji Woo to the end of the year dance. I think he wants to make them official.”

“Oh,” Your heart felt heavy and your lungs felt like exploding. It was liking there was pressure building up inside of you, like you were suffocating way below sea level. “My plan worked.”

“Yeah, good one Cupid, you got Valentine Boy his crush,” Doyoung’s voice was teasing, but his eyes were slowly processing the emotions flickering across your face. “Y/N are you okay?”

“Huh?” Your voice sounded distorted even to your own ears, “Yeah, listen, I have to go. I realize I’m really not prepared for my exam tomorrow. I need to go study.”

“Y/N wait--”

You had dashed out the door before Doyoung could even get a full sentence out.

That was the night your feelings had hit you like a wrecking ball. You had ran home and flung yourself into bed, sobbing like your heart depended on it. Every bit of the emotions you had suppressed, resurfaced so powerfully you felt like you were drowning.

You could have been the one he would’ve asked to the dance. If only you had been aware of your own crush. You had an intense, heart-stopping, tongue-swelling, cringe-worthy crush on Jaehyun.

What’s done, was done. Jaehyun was happy and that’s all that should matter. You couldn’t have feelings for him. He was your childhood best friend. Your brother. Nothing more, nothing less. He didn’t feel the same.

Little did you know, weeks ago, Jaehyun had come to the conclusion to move on. He thought you only saw him in platonic light, in his eyes it held some truth. You had pushed Ji Woo to him so delightedly, never once hinting at any jealousy or remorse. He had decided that it was best to get over his intense, soul-crushing, all-consuming love he had for you. Which is why, he was going to to succumb to the growing feelings he had for Ji Woo. You had been more than a crush to him, but he didn’t think you’d even get anything close to crush on him, let alone reciprocate his intense, soul-crushing, all-consuming love.

The bass reverberated throughout the room, shaking through like a tremor after an earthquake. Everyone was basking in the afterglow of being done with exams, dancing along awkwardly to the music and mingling around.

You had deliberately ducked out of eyesight once you saw your whole group arrive. You had said you’d arrive separately as your hair appointed had been late and you didn’t want to keep them waiting. You had lied, of course, it had become a nasty habit of yours by now. You had just wanted to avoid the new couple.

All your hiding was for naught, Jaehyun was particularly good at finding you. He spotted you easily and admonished you for arriving without them. You lied again, saying that your hairdresser had finished faster than you thought but you didn’t feel like making them return just for you.

“You look beautiful.”

Every year he said those words to you, but they never held any weight until now. His stare was what made you feel beautiful, but those thoughts dissolved as Ji Woo looped her arm around him. You just smiled and excused yourself to go get more punch, offering some alone time for the new couple. You tried your best to say something witty and congratulate them but it all sounded strangled to you.

Jaehyun was left winded as he saw you walking away. You beauty had knocked the wind out of his lungs, you were all he could think of and it made him feel guilty. He squashed the feelings inside of him and tried his best to focus on the girl in his arms.

Your vision was blurry, but it wasn’t blurry enough to stop you from witnessing Jaehyun and Ji Woo. He had leaned close to a blushing Ji Woo, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. She was beaming up at him and he was smiling softly down at her. The scene was so sweet and it made your insides throb.

You hadn’t noticed the figure lingering next to you.

“Can I say something?”

“You’re going to either way, Doyoung,” You sighed, brandishing a new glass of punch and passing it to him.

“You have a crush on Jaehyun don’t you,” He stated bluntly, you flinched as the words were spoke aloud.

“And if I did, what difference would that make?”

“Depends,” He shrugged, drinking from his own cup. “It depends how much you think this crush is worth fighting for.”

“It’s just a silly crush, Doyoung,” You forced a smile, “I’ll get over it.”

He broke out laughing and your smile faltered, “What’s so funny?”

His eyes were on zeroed in on Jaehyun as he spoke, “It’s just ironic. He said the same thing about you.”

“What?”

“Some crushes don’t just go away,” Doyoung insisted a gentle, encouraging smile graced his lips, “You know he had a crush on you. You were his crush, not Ji Woo. He just didn’t know how to say it. Then you had to go and meddle your way in between your own happiness.”

“Why are you telling me this?” You cried out, feeling your eyes prickle with a new set of tears.

He sighed wistfully, “Because you two are my stupid, oblivious friends. You two have had crushes on each other and you finally figured out but can’t figure out how to not crushed about it.”

“Oh, Doyoung, don’t you know anything about, crushes?” You lamented forlornly, “They’re called crushes because you always get crushed.”

You watched as Ji Woo got on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to Jaehyun’s cheek. You had been wrong again. It wasn’t just a crush.

No, what you felt for Jaehyun was more than that. It was an intense, soul-crushing, all-consuming love and it had crushed you just as bad.

#neowritingsnet #jung jaehyun #jung yoonoh #jaehyun #jaehyun x reader #jaehyun x you #nct jaehyun #nct #nct 127 #nct u #jaehyun imagines #nct fanfic #nct imagines #nct angst #jaehyun angst

[rezdogsyonder]

Need (3)

Pairing: Professor!Rogers x Reader

Summary: The professor realizes just how mich he wants you.

Warnings: stalking, mention of blood.

A/N: This part will mostly be in Steve’s point of view. Kinda. I’ve decided reader wears glasses and idk why I wrote this, this way.

**********

**********

‘Why am I doing this? I shouldn’t be doing this.’ Steve thought as he kept following her from a safe distance.

**********

He wasn’t following you at first; he stayed back in his office for probably an hour...or three. He didn’t keep track. He needed to turn in a book, a history book for revision, and comparison. He is writing his own book, telling what actually happened while in the Howling Commandos.

By the time Steve got to the library the sun was setting, and it was a complete ghost town inside. Only spotting two people on his way to his destination. One of them being a janitor. The top floor of the library is where he needed to go, it’s where the special collection is kept. Normally these kinds of books aren’t allowed out of the library, but being older than most of the books in their library has its perks.

Putting the book back in its respective place, and about to return the checkout card, that is when I sees you once more. Hiding out in the back corner, at a table that is covered in notebooks and colorful pens and highlighters. Looking so deep in focus, biting your lip, and flipping through papers only to turn back to your notebook.

Hair tossed up in a messy bun. Glasses hanging at the end of your nose. You look at little bit more disheveled than what he remembered from a couple hours ago. White V-neck t-shirt under a navy blue cardigan. You looked beautiful.

Deciding to stay, Steve began to look through more history books, encyclopedias, and records that would help with his little project. If he was going to stay he might as well get some work done too.

He sat at a table across a very long isle from you. A seat that made sure he could still watch you, without you seeing. If he had, to he could just scoot his chair forward and he would be out of sight.

Steve is there for another 40 minutes or so before he sees her putting all of her notes away. He quickly stacked everything and put it all in his bag, then walking out before she sees him. Waiting by the entrance for you.

‘Why is she out this late? Doesn’t she know this is a dangerous city?’

Then he realized. He shouldn’t be here, he could get fired.

‘Why am I doing this? I shouldn’t be doing this.’ Steve thought as he kept following her from a safe distance.

He was going to turn back, he really was, but she just seemed so vulnerable. How far does she live? ‘I’ll just make sure she gets home safe.’ He decides, but he truly know that now he’s hooked, and he’s not going to stop.

And he didn’t. He not only followed her home but he found out what apartment she lives in. First floor, not very safe, at least the windows to her home are high. Less of a chance of robbery. He also saw her roommate, he recognized her from the coffee shop. Watching her clean up her room Steve realized something.

He’s got it bad.

**********

He held himself back from following her again. Not really by choice. He didn’t see her at the library again. He also avoided the cafe she works at. Not wanting himself to get too close, too fixated. It has been three weeks though, and he doesn’t know how much longer he can keep himself from you. Of all of his classes, yours was his favorite.

You have his class twice a week, every Tuesday and Thursday. Both scheduled at 4:30. He has kept his distance and she has been nothing but a model student.

Steve needs a teachers assistant, and he thinks he’s already found her.

**********

The essays Steve had assigned are finally almost done being graded. Deciding to leave yours last. When he was done going through, your essay was nearly perfect. Maybe he was biased, but he really thought that you’re paper deserved an A.

A grade he rewarded to only six other people. He was going to write an A when an idea struck him.

He grabbed his red marker and marked the paper with a C, writing “see me after class”.

He smiled at his plan and quickly filed it into the bottom of the stack of essays to hand back as students began filing into his classroom.

It’s Thursday.

**********

You got to Mr.Lee’s class 15 minutes early as per usual. You like being a little bit more than punctual. This was one of your favorite classes to be in but to be honest you’d be glad when it’s over. Math made sense to you but it took work. A lot of work.

Last class, there was a test and you were dying to see how you did. Mostly because he said that this test will be just like the mid-term and a good chunk of the final. You tried really hard, going to the library more often than usual. Well, it isn’t a big accomplishment, you only go the the library once a week. For like 4 hours, but still.

You’re practically bouncing in your seat all class period, since the average score on the test for this class was 82% Mr.Lee thought that we can have a reward. It’s his top priority that his students are understanding his material, and that’s why you like this class.

We are currently watching a movie and those who wanted to leave could, but they would have to wait longer to view their score. You stayed because you worked too hard to wait any longer.

But finally the end of this class was drawing near, and Mr.Lee just checked his watch and was pulling out a big stack of papers. Trying to stay calm just in case your score was bad, and why did this class have to be so big?

He was finally get to you, and he set your packet face down on your desk. Did he put the other students tests face down? You weren’t even paying attention. Now that you have your test, you can leave the class.

Pulling out your phone you call a familiar number, “Wade?” You met him on you way to a book store last year, he actually saved you from being mugged when you thought it was a good idea to take a shortcut through a back alley.

“My common sense it tingling,” you hear him the material of his mask being moved around, “What did you do this time Y/N? Something that shows you’re intelligent I bet. That’s the main trope of your story’s character.”

“You know you don’t sense sometimes, but maybe! I took a test the other day and I’m scared to look. I was hoping a call to you would help calm my nerves.”

“Would an in person meet and greet help?”

“What do y—” you couldn’t finish your sentence before a body landed in front of you on the sidewalk. You let out a loud shriek, then you heard a voice.

“Holy fuck knuckles! That shit hurted.” And you realized who it was.

“Fuck I hate you sometimes.” You sighed.

“I’m hilarious so don’t hate. And that was about as much fun as a sandpaper dildo,” he sits up at looks at you, “wanna kiss it better?” He says gesturing to his backwards foot.

You bend over and turn it back around, despite his cry of pain. Then you offer a hand so he may stand.

You looked down, “ah shit you got some blood on me.” It was only a drop, probably the size of a quarter on your white boyfriend cardigan. Wade pokes his arm and draws a smiley, using the dot on your sweater as an eye.

“Gross.” You smiled.

“Hydrogen peroxide will get that out.” You nodded and began unbuttoning it to take it off. Leaving you in your baby pink cami that was tucked into your high waisted back jeans.

“So... Wanna see my score?” You held out the packet.

“Ah... mhmm... yes.” He mumbled through his mask as he flipped through the pages. “Y/N I’m sorry to have to tell you this but it looks as thought you’ll have to drop out.”

You hit him, “Shut up, let me see.” You snatch it out of his hand before you finished your sentence. By it before you look at your score you smiled at him, “I guess your ‘inperson meet and greet’ did help.”

93%. You were struggling in that class and this will surely boost your grade back up. Squealing you jump at Wade, hugging him. He twirled you around.

“Celebratory chimichangas?” He put you back down and began walking, knowing you’d follow.

“Yeah actually I have roughly an hour and a half before my next class.” You said you you looked down at your phone. “Where should we go?”

“There’s this beautiful woman that has a restaurant somewhere that way.” Wade said point in a general direction.

You didn’t really believe him but two blocks in the direction he pointed was a small restaurant. You wouldn’t have noticed it if Wade hadn’t pointed it out. The lady that ran it was a sweet little old woman.

The food was great, and Wade was able to keep you occupied the entire time. You didn’t even realize how much time had passed before there was only 5 minutes before your next class started.

“Oh SHIT! Fuck IM LATE!” You scrambled pull out your wallet, but end up spilling everything. Wade starts to help you pick up everything that fell out, he stood up with five of your notebooks.

“I paid ahead of time. Sorry read ahead in the script. But let’s go!” He waved at the little lady behind the counter. “Goodbye, my princess.” And blows her a kiss.

“Come on we have to run, slow ass.” he starts pulling you to go faster.

“Jesus, I’ve never been late before. Oh my god.” Starting to get out of breath. About a block and a half closer.

“Really? Never would have guess that.” He says sarcastically. You two are back on campus, and you need to pass two more buildings.

“There! It’s right there,” you say running faster, you get to the front of the building. Wade hands you back your notebooks. You lean over trying to catch your breath.

“4:28. Why was it so important to be on time to this class?”

“Well turns out Mr.America is also Mr.Punctuality.”

“Cap is your teacher? I better skedaddle before he try’s to cut off another arm. Goodbye sunshine.” He taps your nose. “Boop.”

“Bye!” You waved and headed inside, going to the second to last classroom on the left.

You check the time again 4:29, you weren’t late. But it looks like the teacher is going to be. All that worrying for nothing. Not knowing that you were the reason for his tardiness.

**********

Mr.Rogers did show up for class but was about five minutes late. Other than that class went on like normal, you took your notes and worked. Used to the feeling of somebody staring at you, you didn’t want to know who thinking that acknowledging them will encourage them.

‘Wow she looks so adorable, pink suits her well.’ He thought as he watched her, but he began to grow angry as he realized that these boys were looking at his girl.

It was nearing the end of class, so he began passing out the essays. Saving yours for last. Today’s class was small, most students skipped his class once they realized that he wasn’t going to talk about Captain America or the avengers.

Once he got to you he placed your essay on your desk face down gently. He felt a little bad, turning around quickly so he didn’t have to see the disappointment on your face.

You forgotten about the essay, but you thought you had done well when you turned it in. You were having a good day, but this just ruined it. A big C on the corner of your paper. You felt tears beginning to well in your eyes but you blinked them away before they could fall.

You look at the clock and there is 2 minutes left, but the professor dismissed everyone already. You begin packing your stuff up, when you feel a little chilly. Sighing you pull out your cardigan and look at the smiley. Maybe you’ll call Wade again after this. You put it on hoping people will think it’s just a cute little design.

The class was now empty and you walk to the office connected to this classroom. It was more plain than you’d expect, and a lot cleaner too. Almost every other professor’s office you’d been to had been a complete mess. He was sitting behind his desk.

“You said to see you after class?” You say timidly. He gestured to the seat in front of his desk, and you take a seat.

“Yeah let me see that,” he holds out his hand and you lean forward to give him your paper, “I just needed to talk to you.” He crossed out the C and wrote an A right next to it, and stood up.

“What did you need to talk about?” You felt a little better with an improved grade, but a nervous pit in your stomach began to form. We’re you in trouble? He walked around and leaned against his desk in front of you, handing your paper back.

“I have been needing to choose a TA for the semester, and I was wondering if you would like to fill that position?”

“Oh my gosh really? I would love to! What would I need to do?”

He smiled, “Well, regular TA responsibilities like grading, tutoring or mentoring students if and when they need help, stuff like that.”

“Wow, thank you for this opportunity.” At this point you wouldn’t be able to stop smiling.

“It’s no problem. This job will suit you, I can tell.” He sighs and rubs the stubble on his face. “But, you will have to sign a few papers.” He slid walked back behind his desk and pulled a small packet out of his desk drawer. “This isn’t what you would sign with other teachers, but I’m sure you’re aware of my previous profession.” You nodded. “This is just protecting my privacy and it’s basically saying that you won’t do anything that would take away that privacy.” He slid the papers over to you, then putting a pen on top.

“Yeah, okay.” You didn’t read through it before signing, as Mr.Rogers just explained it to you. You put the pen down. “What now?”

Yes, what now? Steve thought.

[cjxkpopxwriting]

Extra Stuffing - Sinday Drabble

Taehyung x American Reader - 🔥💕

Note: This is purely self indulgent and I didn’t have anything for Tae on the list yet! There is definitely some humor and hopefully some enjoyable smut. The other members do make an appearance. Happy Thanksgiving everybody!

Note note: omg this was longer than expected. I was hella sick for the last two days, but here it is. Hope everyone had a good holiday!

-

So far, the guys seemed to enjoy Your American traditions. Everything from exchanging valentines all the way to hunting for colored eggs and even stealing kisses under mistletoe. You hadn’t had the chance to subject them to the wild day of over eating and taking naps and shopping online yet, however, and it was that time of year. “Kookie, you better get out of the kitchen! I swear if you stole another-“

The Maknae gave you a sheepish, deviled egg grin as he swiped the remaining filling off the edge of his lip and tilted his head. His English had greatly improved, though it still had an adorable accent and fumble to it that made you grin as he quickly apologized. You still didn’t know why he had to speak in English when you had learned Korean. “Noona, I’m so sorry. These egg... things are... so good. We need more.” You nodded, shooing his large frame out of the kitchen only to be pushed back in by another large frame.

Taehyung didn’t care too much to apologize to Jungkook as he shoved him aside for you, only giving the younger man a playful eyebrow waggle, his eyes going up in that silly face he made before he grabbed the ladle from the crock pot to pour himself another cup of apple cider. “This is good. But... I’m afraid I’m going to drink it all.” They were all in and out of the kitchen now, examining the plates you had assembled. Jin and Yoongi were really the only ones allowed since they cooked the most, but it seemed the smells were too much for the others to resist. “Don’t drink it all or you’re gonna be sick, Tae.”

He shrugged, and after eyeing you for a long moment, he retreated. Things had been different between the two of you. Stolen glances, less than innocent flirting and suggestive gestures. You had always known he could be down right dirty, keeping up with even Jimin and Namjoon, but lately it seemed he’d fallen into a habit of making you blush. Earlier, when you’d been found searching the cupboards, he’d all but given you a heart attack when his hand slid up the inside of your thigh to support you.

Originally, you’d passed it off as a caring gesture, one he’d do for any of the guys as well, but the rush of desire that came when he actually hefted you off the counter when you found the can of corn spoke otherwise. Maybe you were projecting your desire for him, but you couldn’t help but feel your body heat when his gaze left you to disappear under his lush lashes. Why did he have to look so damn good?

Could you just eat him for dinner?

“Namjoon!”

The scuffle in the dining area and several mumbled apologies from Namjoon alerted you right out of your wandering thoughts, making you gasp as you narrowly dodged burning yourself on a hot casserole dish. “What happened?” Tae came rushing in to pull off his shirt, the warm drink he’d just served himself staining the front of the white sweater. “Oh no.” You rushed to him, wiping the sticky liquid from his chest with a wet dishtowel before you looked his shirt over. “Go wash it according to the directions. It should be ok if you do it fast.”

He had frozen in place, missing your command while he gawked at your hands on his abdomen and chest. There had been several times the two of you had touched, but never like this that he could think of. Your touch was soft and careful, like you were somehow concerned over him being burned, though he was sure it hadn’t been quite that hot. “Noona, it’s ok.” As your eyes lifted to his, you finally snapped out of it to realize what the hell you were doing. “Oh! Sorry... uhm. Hurry! Dinner is ready.”

Aside from Namjoon, who was cleaning up the spill, you asked the others for help as Tae backed away toward the laundry room, and thanked the heat of the kitchen to explain your flushed face. The guys did not need to know that you were crushing on Taehyung. It would... be disastrous. “Careful, guys.” Hoseok and Jungkook placed your perfectly roasted bird on the table and you clapped your hands. “Oh my god, Norman Rockwell would be impressed. TAE! Put a shirt on and come sit for a picture.”

And so you could fucking breathe again.

The guys sat while Jungkook set his camera up on a delay, rushing back to his seat beside Jimin before he held up two fingers as they posed. The flash of the camera saved the moment in time as you let Jin cut the turkey, the others digging into the dishes. Green bean casserole, candied yams, dressing, salad, potato salad, mashed potatoes, rice (per their request), macaroni and cheese, deviled eggs, kimchi that Jin and Jungkook demanded, pumpkin pie, apple pie, and a caramel cheesecake, what was left of the cider, Soju, beer, soda, gravy, ham, and rolls.

If this wasn’t a carb load, you didn’t know what would be. They better be energized after this and ready to go... though the turkey might slow them down. “So... most of these are things I am used to eating at my own family gatherings. But we added some of your things so everything is balanced! Eat up!” You didn’t have to speak twice, the seven men around you stuffing their faces. Animated chatter had you distracted, but a tap against your shin made you turn to look at Tae, who offered you a bite of ham, rice, and kimchi. “Noona, this is good. Try.” You took the bite, the smirks around the table missed by your eyes.

Tae had voiced his interest in you several times with his members, but he had never really imagined you were going to even come close to reciprocating until now. The blushing cheeked glances and giggles and touches spoke volumes to him about your comfort with him, and he was not afraid to use that to his advantage. “Wow. That... the kimchi... it totally made that better!” Tae nodded and laughed softly, taking a sip of his cider as he eyed you over the rim of the cup.

If you could actually melt... you would’ve.

Between reminding Jungkook to chew his food fully so he didn’t choke and coordinating how to have them put whipped topping on their pie without unloading an entire can on their hands for a trick video for tik tok or their mouths to just eat it, dinner was rather entertaining. Eventually, the tryptophan started to kick in, however, Yoongi being the first one to retreat for a nap. Jungkook and Jimin had attempted to watch a movie while digesting, luring Namjoon and Jin in before they were all snoring.

Hoseok was able to help clean up before he retreated too, and you were sure you’d seen Tae disappear to his room. “Thank you Hobi!” He nodded and shuffled out, leaving you alone. Or at least you thought you were. Humming softly, you began putting the bit of leftovers away, leaning into the fridge. You closed it and turned only to immediately press back into the cool metal, Tae’s face right in front of you. “Kim Taehyung... where do you get off thinking you can just-“

The hungry kiss was not expected. How had he even just snuck up on you?! His lips were needy, working yours open to plunge his tongue past, leaving your reeling. Nope, this was not real. You had simply fell into a post feast day dream. There was no way you were playing tonsil hockey with Tae. But you had to let yourself enjoy it, moaning into the kiss as you threaded your fingers into his messy hair. Being lifted from the floor, you wrapped your legs around his waist and let him carry you, hiding your face in his neck when he proudly toted you past the snoring pile of men on the couch.

Maybe it wasn’t a dream?

The click of his door shutting as he shuffled with you in his arms pulled you from his neck, and he laid you down, lips finding yours again as he climbed between your legs. “You’ve been torturing me all day... and months before that. How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself?” He spoke softly against your lips before he opened his eyes, meeting your gaze. “I... Tae...” He worried for a second if he had read the signals wrong...

But then your hands pushed his new sweater up his back and he groaned softly when you nipped his bottom lip. “I’m still hungry... for you.” If that wasn’t the way to melt your panties you were sure the slick between your thighs was arousal for him then. His left hand pulled your body tight against his, right arm switching as he rotated out of his sweater you so insistently tugged over his head. “Tell me this is what you wanted... tell me I wasn’t wrong.” He was practically begging you to reinforce your attraction to him, and you whimpered and nodded.

Not satisfied, Tae caught your jaw in gentle fingertips, eyebrow raised as if he was waiting for you to clarify. “I... yes. I want you, Tae. God, I want you.” That was all he needed to hear, it seemed, his kiss feeling like it would swallow you up. Who knew he’d be this intense? Well, based off of Singularity, you should’ve known. His hands left your hips to tug your longer sweater dress off your body and over your head. You laid beneath him now in only leggings, leg warmers, and your underwear.

Long, delicate fingers traced the lace detail on your baby pink bra before they dipped up and inward to map out the swell of your cleavage. “Fuck... I can’t believe this... look at you.” He seemed beside himself and you blushed under his gaze, eyes tracing his features. He had gained a lot of muscle over the last few months, looking absolutely delectable. Your tongue and teeth were practically itching to trace every inch of him. And dammit... you meant every inch.

He called you up with the waggle of his fingers before he reached behind you to undo your bra. It took a moment, and he laughed in his frustration before you helped him, his laugh softening against your lips. “I’ve dreamed of this moment, baby. Making you mine... showing you how you make me feel.” His deep voice left you vibrating under him, pressing closer wherever you could for contact. His fingers hooked under the tack of your bra and tugged, freeing your chest from its prison. You didn’t miss the little inhale he did as he laid eyes on you.

Your mind could have never imagined being the reason for Tae’s undoing. He looked so enraptured by just looking at you, but acted like a man starved as he kissed between them, over the soft mound of each as well, before he swirled a nipple with that skillful tongue of his and then all but swallowed it up. The sound you made was probably just as unbelievable because you were sure you didn’t sound like a damn pornstar. “God... Tae...”

He felt the need in your pleading words and use of his name, deft fingertips already shedding your leggings and panties right along with them. He needed to feel you. Instantly greeted by your slick arousal, he groaned and pulled back to watch his fingers work you into a panting frenzy. “That’s all because of me? Damn baby, I should’ve made a move a long time ago... fuck, look at you.” You wished you could. For now, you’d have to take his word for it. “Ah... mhmm, like that.”

“I’ll taste you fully another day baby. Right now I need to fill you up.” He sucked his fingers clean so lewdly that you clenched around nothing, dazed and needy as he stripped off his jeans and boxers. Jimin hadn’t lied. Tae was impressive on all accounts. He was perfectly thick, longer than you’d expected, and the softest dusty pink you had ever imagined. Any other day you might’ve sobbed and begged to suck him off. But right now... you needed him buried to the hilt inside you.

“Condom?”

You almost missed the question, and you sputtered to life, fingers reaching to touch him as you kissed his lips. “No, I’m a big girl. I come protected thanks to Mirena.” He blinked and you laughed. “Sorry... birth control.” Finally understanding, you squeaked when he launched forward, scooping you up to drag you up the bed, before he dipped between your thighs and wasted not another second in connecting your bodies.

You’d never felt so full. So whole. So... stuffed.

“Oh my god.”

He grunted when you grappled with his body, trying to hang on somehow when he thrusted. It was so much all at once that you made a ridiculous attempt to catch your breath at the same time it was being forced out of you. “Are you ok?” He whimpered, his next thrust gentler as you nodded. Your Head was too far gone to form sentences, so you inhaled softly, able to breathe again, and stroked his face. “I’m fine... so big. Fuck.” His smirk was your only warning before he snapped his hips again, with gusto, earning frantic noises from your lips before he tried to silence them with a kiss.

“You’re so fucking tight... damn.”

You were vaguely aware of his arm over you, gripping the headboard so it didn’t hit the wall. Legs hitched up higher, your brain spiraled down into pleasure as he let himself go, fucking you into the mattress. His pace was almost bruising, the poor man having been driven insane over the last few months, wanting you but not knowing if he could have you. Gasping your praises as he pushed you over the edge, you caught the perfect sight of Taehyung losing his mind over how you clenched around him through your blurry vision.

“Fuck baby, that’s it... take it.”

He was so damn dirty, and you loved it. Feeling him empty himself into you after a handful of stuttering thrusts, you fell limp under him, only to be scooped up and held close. Taehyung groaned as he laid back in his bed, letting you straddle him. Hot kisses spread up your throat and along your jaw before he kissed you in a much softer way, almost lazy and indulgent. “I promise I’ll go softer in round two baby... I just couldn’t wait...” you found your words as you laughed, pulling from his lips to look him in the eye. “Wait for what?” His smirk told you something dirty was coming, and he snorted. “You know... like you said about the turkey...” He chuckled at your face, and licked his lips.

“You said it needed extra stuffing.”

#bts #bts writing #sinday #taehyung

[vickypoochoices]

Partner In Crime part 8.

Note: The final chapter! There will be an epilogue to follow which will be NSFW because I promised @littlegreenmoo this ages ago but the story took over. Also, can we ignore the text message fail with the different battery percentage. I couldn't be bothered to change it, oopsy! 🙈

MASTERLIST.

Part 7.

Lyla chewed on her lower lip nervously, her body numb, except for the iron tight grip around her forearm, her mother clinging on for dear life as they negotiated the hideously elegant, yet steep staircase. Her head was violently spinning, all of her concentration fixated on just breathing, the simple task proving challenging. Both feet successfully reaching the bottom of the stairs, Lyla sprang backwards as Molly gasped loudly next to her.

“Mum, what’s wrong?”

“The bouquet, we left it upstairs!”

“Oh, okay. I’ll go and get it.” Lyla shrugged, foot poised ready to retrace her steps.

Molly reached out to stop her. “Don’t be silly. We can’t be having you wandering around willy nilly. You’re the bride! You stay put, I’ll be two minutes. Here.” She looped her clutch around Lyla’s wrist before continuing. “If Auntie Fran replies can you tell her to take her seat at the front next to me. There’s been a huge mix up with the seating arrangement but i’ve sorted it now. She was all the way at the back can you believe? Anyway I’m rambling here, what was I doing? Flowers, yes!”

Lyla’s forehead creased in confusion at Molly’s sudden scatty behaviour. “Mum wha...”

“Two minutes sweetie.” Molly’s chin tilted as she looked up at the towering stairs. “Damn stairs. I may be a little longer than two minutes. Hold tight!”

Lyla frowned at the forced smile her mother churned out. What had gotten into her? Her thoughts were pulled away as the feather light clutch vibrated loudly once, then twice before giving a frantic final third vibration as Lyla clumsily prised it open, retrieving Molly’s phone. That had to be Aunt Fran. She was one of these awful texters, the kind that would send one sentence per text, and an additional message designated just for kisses. A touch of a smile ghosted Lyla’s lips as she tapped out a quick response as instructed. Her fingers curled around the phone, one that her father had passed on to Molly once he got bored of it. Her eyes scanned the top of the stairs, looking for any sign of her mother, before she hastily unlocked the phone, opening up her inbox and scrolling down. Unsurprisingly, there wasn’t all that much scrolling to be done. Molly’s inbox consisted of messages from Lyla, her father, Aunt Fran, a generic reminder for an appointment of some description, and Zig. Her fingers worked on autopilot, the short thread of texts opened before Lyla had a chance to think about it.

Her fingers frantically tapped out a rushed response, her frustration growing as she realised she had a minute, if not less, to pour her heart out. There was so much she wanted to talk to Zig about. He seemed pretty shocked about the Cherry accusation, had she really got the wrong end of the stick? There was no denying she’d felt empty and alone since leaving their shared apartment, and Lyla knew no matter what she thought had happened, she couldn’t just turn off her feelings like that.

Her eyes darted skywards, the sound of shuffling footsteps startling her, sending Molly’s phone crashing to the ground. SHIT! Did that send? Stooping down to the ground, aware of the footsteps growing louder, Lyla picked the phone up, bringing it up towards her mouth to blow on, before wiping it against her dress. What was that?! Who blows on a phone when they drop it?

“Everything okay love?”

“Yep. Absolutely. Uh huh.” Lyla stuttered, turning on her biggest smile as she stuffed Molly’s phone back into her clutch.

A perplexed look crossed Molly’s face for a second, before she corrected herself, thrusting the large bouquet of Dean’s favourite flowers forward. “Ready then?”

***

Zig bounded down the bustling street, unsure if the worried glances cast his way from on goers was a reaction to seeing a crazed man vaulting over any obstacle in his path, or his choice of attire. A smart black shirt, creased from where it lay crumpled in a heap at the foot of his bed, still heavy with the scent that was unmistakably Lyla’s, the sole reason he hadn’t washed it yet. Paired with grey sweatpants and a thick pair of socks but a distinct lack of shoes. No time for shoes. It was the no shoe thing that was creeping people out right? Zig didn’t care, he was wearing the first thing that came to hand because he was now on borrowed time. He almost collided with the glass door in his haste to reach the hotel he was 99 percent certain Cherry had mentioned. Once. Accidentally. Fuck Zig, what are you doing? After successfully negotiating the entrance, Zig braced himself against the reception desk, heart thrashing against his chest, his breath coming out as a strained wheeze.

“Can I help you?” A petite, bored looking brunette queried as she stood, peering over the side of the desk where Zig was now crouched, head thrust between his legs as he worked on steadying his breathing.

“Cherry...Cherry...What room number?”

The receptionist sat back down in her chair, making no attempts to hide the distain on her face, clearing her throat once.

“Sorry. I can’t give out details of our guests.”

“You don’t understand.” Zig inched upwards, slowly staggering to his feet, his sweaty hands slapping palm down on the desk to steady himself. “Please, hear me out.”

“Eurgh don’t touch that! I can’t give you any information on her because she isn’t a guest here any longer. She checked out half an hour ago.”

“How do I know you aren’t just saying that to get rid of me?”

“Oh please. A name like that? I’m hardly likely to forget her am I. Now can I kindly ask you to leave?”

Zig grumbled to himself as he left the hotel. The same word over and over again. “Shit.”

***

“It’s okay to be nervous sweetie. Don’t worry, I’m right here beside you.”

Lyla managed a weak smile, her hand still continually squeezing her fathers, as she looked over his features. Flecks of grey glinted as rays of sunshine highlighted them through his dark head of hair. His tired eyes, heavy lidded yet full of warmth, his thin lips smiling in adoration at her as he stood in his smart suit that Dean had picked out for him. He looked every bit the doting Dad, the fierce love visible for all to see. This man, who’s life would come crashing down, who’s life would be destroyed if she didn’t go through with this. No matter the consequences for herself, Lyla couldn’t stand to put him through that.

“Ready?” He questioned, looping his arm around hers.

“Ready.” She nodded, eyes pricking with tears as the doors peeled backwards.

Her throat constricted, the ability to swallow lost to her as she nervously glanced at all the heads, promptly swivelling in her direction. Her face melted into a smile as she picked out the familiar faces of her family members, all seated in the back two rows. Feet gliding down the aisle, Lyla lost herself for a moment, passing dozens of smiling faces, all unknown to her. In a sea of strangers, Lyla picked out just one she recognised. All other emotions ceased to exist for the briefest of moments, hope prevailing. Aaron winked at her, an encouraging smile fixed into place as he caught her eye. And then her heart plummeted, as Lyla realised Aaron was surrounded by strangers. He was alone. Zig wasn’t here. What did you expect Lyla? Too little, too late! Disappointment flooded through her, all traces of hope washed away. The text didn’t send! She’d told him to stay away, that he wasn’t wanted here, and that’s exactly what he’d done.

Lyla’s steps faltered as they neared the end of the aisle, her fathers strong and confident stride carrying them both the remainder of the way. On one side, Molly stood, a tissue balled up in one hand at the ready, and a supportive arm around a hunched up figure sat down next to where she stood, a shawl draped around their head. Aunt Fran really is ancient!

She could feel the cold stare accessing her long before her eyes begrudgingly met his. His dark eyes fixed on her, completely emotionless. A fake smile that only Lyla could see through, plastered all over his face. She’d run out of aisle, and out of time, there was no where left to run now.

“I would like to thank you all for being here today on behalf of Lyla and Dean. They’ve invited you here to share in this experience, and to share their undying love for each other with you all.”

A hushed whisper fell over the room as people settled down into their seats.

“Who gives this woman to be married to this man?”

Lyla’s Dad stepped forward proudly, both hands clasping hers tightly as she remained a pace behind him, head downcast. “I do.” He pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek, before taking the empty seat next to Molly in the front row. Lyla remained rooted to the spot, the distance between Bride and Groom painfully evident, her feet refusing to cooperate. Dean’s however, were more than happy to close the gap, reaching for her hand and interlocking their fingers, squeezing tightly. Too tightly.

“And now I ask that if anyone present today knows of any impediment why these two may not be lawfully joined in matrimony may they speak now, or forever hold their peace.”

A heavy silence fell upon the room. Lyla glanced behind her, catching sight of the guests giggling nervously and shifting restlessly.

A small chuckle echoed in the otherwise silent room, cutting the tense atmosphere short. “It doesn’t matter how many times I say that, it always sets me on edge. Come now, shall we continue? I believe this is the part we’ve all been waiting for!”

“WAIT!” Lyla instinctively turned to the back of the room. That’s how it always happened in the movies right? Her one true love was meant to burst in through the doors and stop the wedding. Deep indentation lines settled on Lyla’s forehead as she frowned in confusion, the back doors remained firmly shut with no Zig in sight.

“I won’t let this wedding take place!”

Lyla’s attention moved to her left, a voice continuing from the front row. Her eyebrows knitted together tightly, her mouth falling open but failing to find any words.

“Come now Molly, there must be some mistake.” Lyla stiffened at the sound of Dean’s forced laughter, and the sight of him stepping towards her mother. She matched his step, glaring at him with a sudden rush of confidence as adrenalin surged through her, uncomfortable with him closing in on Molly.

Molly’s voice came back loud and clear, strong and steady. She wasn’t afraid of Dean, and she wouldn’t be intimidated by him. “There’s no mistake. My daughter will not be marrying you.”

“I’m sorry Molly but it looks like she will. She’s stood next to me in a wedding dress, wearing my ring, about to take my surname. I’d say it’s pretty obvious Lyla is all set to get married. Although you’ve certainly spoilt her big day now.” A light pink flush crept up Dean’s neck, the veins there straining against his skin as he struggled to reign in his temper, trying to keep up the pretence.

“I’m saving her actually.”

A loud, unattractive snort came from Dean, his eyes shining in the sunlight, a silent challenge for Molly to try her luck against him. “Is that so? Why don’t you enlighten us all then?”

Molly took a step forward, refusing to flounder at his command. “I have quite a few concerns about you marrying Lyla that I could happily voice right now. But for now I’ll keep it to a minimum. Even if this wedding does somehow go ahead, it won’t be legal. Because Dean has previously been married. And is in fact still married.”

“That’s absurd.” Dean scoffed, eyes roving over the faces of the guests whilst he tugged at his collar once, before catching his display of guilt, hands quickly falling against his sides.

“Give it up Dean, Zigmund has told me everything.”

Dean’s lips curled upwards into a sneer at the mention of Zig’s name. “Zigmund. That jealous fool! It all makes sense now. Can’t you see Molly? He’s made this all up in the hopes of finally having Lyla to himself.”

Dean’s words ran over and over in Lyla’s head, a sudden bout of queasiness overcoming her as Dean continued to smear Zig’s name, until her mouth took over. “Zig wouldn’t make something up like that.”

Dean reached for Lyla’s hand, forcing a smile onto his face. “Darling, there’s no need to defend him now.”

As his fingers curled around her wrist, Lyla shook her head adamantly. “No. I know Zig. He’s...” Her words cut off as she stopped to catch a breath, a sharp wave of pain coursing through her as Dean’s nails dug into the soft skin of her wrist.

Dipping his head to her level, Dean lowered his voice, his words intended for Lyla alone. “I suggest you stop. Now.”

“And I suggest you take your hands off of her. Now.”

Lyla’s whole body tingled in response to his voice, her head still bowed, staring at the deep crescent shaped grooves now embedded in her skin as Dean reluctantly loosened his grip.

A firm fingertip tucked under her chin, gently urging her to look up. Fresh tears threatened to fall as she complied, everything seeming to melt away as she lost herself in a pair of dark brown eyes full of anger, warmth, sympathy and love.

“Lyla.” His voice was a breathy whisper, pulling her flush against his chest, chin resting on the top of her head.

“Zig...” Her bottom lip trembled, her whole body sagging against his weakly.

As they pulled apart, Zig placed a hand on either side of Lyla’s shoulders, lowering down to her level, his eyes fiercely searching hers. “Are you okay?”

“I am now.” She managed to choke out, a stray tear slipping down her face. Zig smiled back at her, gently chasing the tear away with his thumb before turning on the spot, attention fixed on Dean. They locked eyes, Dean taking a step forward, Zig placing himself protectively in front of Lyla, his eyes refusing to leave Dean’s, neither backing down.

“Ahh Zigmund, I should have expected nothing less from you really. Congratulations on making a huge scene. Come on then, out with the ridiculous allegations.”

His thumb soothingly stroked continuous comforting circles around Lyla’s as he took a calming breath, readying himself to speak. Until Molly’s voice stopped him.

“Zigmund told me all about your wife the other night, and I took the liberty of contacting her myself.”

“This should be good.” Dean made a show of rolling his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest as Molly continued.

“I know everything about you. I know what a vile man you really are. You will never be good enough for my daughter and I will not let you marry her. And if you think you can blackmail my family like I’m sure you’ve already planned out you can think again. We don’t want your money, We’ve always got by before without it. If it means struggling for the rest of our lives then so be it. As long as Lyla is with someone that makes her happy, and treats her with the respect she deserves then it will all be worth it.” Molly exhaled loudly, straightening her back and nodding resolutely as she finished her speech.

“Well that’s certainly eye opening Molly, but I’m still yet to see any proof.”

“Obviously when you have money it’s easy to tidy things up and make things disappear. I can’t find a record of your marriage anywhere.” Molly mumbled, eyes averting from Dean’s hard stare, a hint of pink rising to her cheeks.

Dean’s smile was smug, his eyes lighting up as he struggled to supress the thick gloating tone to his words. “What can I say? I tried to tell you Molly! You can thank young Zigmund here for embarrassing us all in front of everyone today.”

“I can’t find a record of your marriage anywhere online. But then I went to meet your wife.”

Dean’s jaw clenched, the sound of him swallowing hard audible to the whole room. “Ridiculous.” He bit back through clenched teeth, one single word all he could muster.

“What’s the matter Dean darling? Are we getting a little too close for comfort?”

Every head in the room snapped up, eagerly turning to follow the sound of the voice. Aunt Fran hobbled the few paces along from her seat in the front row, shedding her shawl along the way, to reveal a mane of deep red hair, and a young, pretty face. She shook her limbs exaggeratedly for a few seconds as she stood to her full height, the disguise of aunt Fran completely lost now.

The sharp hiss of air from Dean was all the proof Lyla needed to know this was in fact his wife.

“Terry. Kindly escort them all out now.”

Cherry stepped forward, as Terry reluctantly shuffled along.

“Not so fast Tezza!” Cherry side stepped away from Terry, dashing into the crowd of guests, plucking a handful of papers from her pocket and quickly discarding them into the hands of the guests.

“You see the thing is.” Molly continued, straying to Lyla’s exposed side, Zig still gripping her hand on the other. “Cherry here seems to have the only copy in existence of your wedding certificate, with the added bonus of a photo too, which I’m sure these lovely guests here will love looking over.” The sound of paper ruffling as people turned over hastily to catch sight of the photo filled the otherwise silent room. “So we have the proof that you two are in fact married covered, but, try as I might, I struggled to find anything that would suggest you two ever ended this marriage.” Molly casts a look at Dean’s parents, seated in the front row, both furiously blushing and shifting uncomfortably.

“There’s a divorce paper, I swear.”

Molly smirked at the shrill tone of Dean’s voice. “Oh, so now you at least admit to having been married before? Two minutes ago I thought you said that wasn’t true at all. Come on now Dean, which is it?” She tutted, as a thin sheen of sweat glistened on Dean’s forehead, finding himself at a loss for words for the first time ever.

“I...”

“Divorce or not, you’ve lied to Lyla, and that changes everything. How could she possibly go through with a wedding to someone that would lie to her about something as monumental as this?”

“Surely that is entirely Lyla’s decision to make.” He retorted.

The weight of a hundred expectant gazes fell upon Lyla, a shiver running along her spine at the sudden realisation that this was her way out. The one thing she’d been praying for, suddenly handed to her on a plate. Take it!

Her pale skin seemed to glow, and she had to physically restrain herself from gleefully skipping down the aisle without another word. Two words would suffice.

Biting her lip as she sucked in a giddy breath, staring down at her fingers still laced through Zig's, she peered up at him, a mischievous smile spreading quickly. She kicked the ugly, narrow shoes off her feet, smirking as they slid easily along the floor, skidding to a stop directly in front of Dean. Lyla sashayed the brief distance herself, straightening his slackened tie before leaning in close to whisper in his ear. "Goodbye, Dick.”

Catching sight of Dean's balled up fists by his side, and the animal like snarl that followed, Lyla beamed, knowing Dean wasn't stupid enough to attempt anything with all these witnesses around.

Placing a protective hand on Lyla's shoulder as he stood behind her, Zig glared at Dean. He longed to tear a strip off of him, but he'd settle for Lyla's safety and freedom. For now. "I don't think Goodbye Dick is what I was gonna go with." Zig chuckled, eyes never leaving Dean's.

Dean stepped forward, eyes lingering on Lyla's hand as she grabbed Zig's, swinging it back and forth animatedly.

"I could tell you what I was thinking..." Molly smirked, winking at Lyla and Zig, as they made to leave, running off down the aisle hand in hand, giggling like a pair of kids.

Tagging: @zigortega4life @emerald-bijou @littlegreenmoo @krsnlove @choicesthot @sarzkh31

#choices #zig ortega #fanfic #choices fanfiction #zig x mc

[fantasyizlife]

Need Help?

Need Help?

Summary: Tom and Jessa are nothing more than friends/co-workers. Even after a mutual agreement to leave a hot romance behind when they wrapped up the first Spider-man. Jessa and Tom are now on the set of Far From Home and they are anything but far from each other. This one-shot is a steamy game of promise that heats up into old flames exploding for each other.

Warnings: angst, cheating-ish and smut

Word count: 6340

Dear me,

(self journal entry due to extreme boredom and frustration. I need to work this out.)                                                                                                 

Being in the limelight was never easy. Making real friends was close to impossible due to the back stabbing so many did just get ahead of you or literally destroy you. Love? Forget about it! As soon as you were spotted with a person, you were immediately labeled and judged, either loved or hated by each others so called fandoms, just for being seen together! Yeah yeah, the rich and famous ask for the spotlight, we are supposed to bow down for our fans right? After all, they are who make or break us! I mean I love my fans, most famous people do. But at what point do they draw a line for themselves? Why are we on Instagram apologizing for being unable to leave our hotel room due to the massive crowds that have become unsafe for us but mainely them? Sorry for my rant, I’m just in my own head trying to sort shit out as I’m dealing with a girly issue and no one to talk to about it because my bff is locked in my ex’s-yet still friends trailer on the streets of New York and due to the crowds lined around the block none of us are going anywhere.

That includes my new almost-boyfriend? He was going to fly in tonight and spend some of my tomorrow off with me. But with crazy fans for blocks, he would be spotted and yet another clue for our fandoms would be dropped and they already had us together, despite our constant denial and countless “just friends” comments. So he opted to stay in Vegas until his next performance that was only in three days. I mean we've been dating for a few months but he refuses to go deeper or past second base, we made it to third base once, but it was a weak moment on his part, (so he said after he stopped us midaction). He says he’s waiting for me to be ready. I didn’t understand until he told me bluntly one night after an award show that we attended an after party with friends including Tom that I had feelings for Tom. Like seriously? Tom? I didn’t even introduce him as an ex when they first met because Tom was a friend, it's all we are! The one and only friend that I had hooked up with a handful of times and hung out with while filming Spiderman, perhaps with a few private moments on the promo tour but we had let it drift apart mutually, as friends. Because while filming that movie, I had met a group of people and we all bonded, they were my age and we wanted to remain good friends, all kinds of relationships crumble in the Hollywood spotlight. Each of us made an effort, celebrating birthdays and holidays. Each of us hosting parties to make sure we could keep this bond alive. Being that I was an original Avenger I was at most of the panels and meet and greets, but nothing ever happened between Tom and me after HOCO. And nothing was happening now. Except the man I wanted/want to build a relationship with isn’t willing to share more of his heart or his body until he deems me safe to fall in love with, and I know he is ready! We women know, am I right?  

I’m on my second mini bottle of Sangria and the drunk me is starting to come out. I’m sitting alone in my room watching the crowd still hanging around the trailer with no end in sight. If I hadn't reserved this quiet space for me to spend some quality time with my...FUCK! What do I even call him? He’s not my boyfriend, but were exclusive to one another. Without a doubt I’m head over heels for him. He’s the perfect guy for me. A small part of me wonders if he’s just waiting for me to get this movie out of the way because my contract with Marvel is up after Avengers 4 and this sequel...wait is “Exclusive” jelly of Tom and me spending time together? NO! Possible? Sure! See this is why I need Zendaya! She can brainstorm with me and help me relax. But she’s trapped and I’m typing at a empty screen...fuck it, I’m going in. It’s that or make myself crazy sitting here trying to figure this out.

Note to self: Your drunk, this isn’t a good ideal but your testing out your bad ideals tonight!

I lock the laptop and call Z as I gather some night clothes, I’ll be lucky to make it inside let alone back out before morning. She answers on the second try as my elevator descends thirty floors. With bottles clinking in my overnight bag, I step into the lobby. I’m instantly blinded by cameras and bombarded with requests of autographs and pictures. Question about Mr. Exclusive and myself. I all but burst into tears and opt for buzzed induced laughter as I press the doors closed and hit my floor number. I had even forgotten she was on the phone.

“Jessa, what's going on? Are you okay?” she yells into the phone getting my attention.

“I just wanted to see you, I need you Z! Hell I just wanted to share my sangria and catch up.” I exhaled my breath as I opened the door to my lonely dark room lit by screen saver of Mr. Exclusives and mines face. I roll my eyes at it and go over to the window to look down at their trailer. I can hear Tom, Harry and Haz laughing, music playing and grown boys making silly bets.

“Wait did you say share sangria?” she laughed into the phone as I whined like a baby at the fun they were having together. “Bitch we are on the way up, that is if you have enough!” she giggled. “And wait, Jess what happened to you and..” I cut her off before I was sucked into misery again.

“I have plenty babes, and I‘m lonely, let’s just say flights are canceled and I need my friends.” She promised me they would be right up and after 30 minutes of fighting the crowd they were all at my door.

The room was filled with laughs, music and familiar warmth as I slowly sipped my fourth bottle. They had my mini bar drained and restocked twice. They were stuck without food or drinks because of the mob so this was paradise to them and they were mine. I heard my phone ringing and seen it was him so I went into the bedroom just to block some of the noise. I knew the second I answered he was buzzing too.

“Hey baby” he smiled so big from his hotel bed. HUH..and no shirt..FML! I smiled goofily at the screen as he called me out for being more than buzzed. I dropped to the bed and looked at him.

“Sounds like you have company?” he smiled so cute it made my heart swell.

“I do, I was really bummed by you not coming so everyone came to see me! Were playing truth or dare next, I swear were such kids at times, the cool kind for sure!” I smiled as he bit his lip. “Don’t do that baby, please don’t do that, especially not now.” I whimpered wishing he was here to kiss. He moaned into his pillow and peeked back up to me. His mood had changed slightly.

“I wouldn’t want to get you hot, not while you have company especially while he’s there.” I questioned him with my eyes and they went wide as I looked at who was in my room...Tom.

“Jess can you please call me when you go to bed, promise me no matter what time it is?” he asked looking kinda pissed. Holy crap, is he serious? He is jelly of Tom! I assured him I would call as we said goodbye.

“I’m sorry, I was just coming in here to tell you it was your turn luv.” Tom stood still and raised his arms in defense. His sweet smile made my tummy flip flop.

“No biggie Tom, he’s um..worried when I’m around you, it’s stupid.” I lied smelling his fucking cologne. I closed my eyes blowing out a breath trying to center my focus.

Tom leaned in so close his warm breath gave me goosebumps and my nipples betrayed me turning hard and aching for his expert touch. “Can’t imagine why Jessa.” he winked at me and left me to go join the others. I had to take a moment.  

I went back to my friends all sitting around the table and at the same time they yelled Jessa’s turn! Just like old times my mood was back on point

“I’m starting easy because I don’t know what tea was spilled while I was away so dare!” I smiled looking to see who’s turn it was. Tom leaned in.

“Smart girl” he said in a tone that made my nipples come alive again. I hid them by crossing my arms and shifting in my seat.

“I know better, truth can be more dangerous with this group, especially while drunk!”

“Dare it is!” Tom declared standing up grabbing my empty bottle “I spin this and you kiss whoever it lands on.” he winked setting it on the table. My eyes widen with fear.

“I..I..I can’t do that Tom, I’m in a..huh..” I couldn’t say the words, it just felt wrong.

“Relax darling, it will be a quick kiss on the cheek. Nothing more, no worries.” he smiled biting his lip hard. I swallowed nervously  as it spun round and round. I was way too nervous as it slowed down so I closed my eyes. Everyone but Tom cheered as it landed on Zendaya. I smirked as she laughed.

“Two can play this game Tom.” I whispered as I got on the table and crawled across it. She shook her head at me and held out her beautiful long arms. She even helped me off the table and onto her lap as she licked her lips brushing my hair away and blocking their view. The music was loud and it wrecked any chance of them hearing us, jokes on them.

“He won’t stop asking about you Jessa, he driving us all crazy.” she whispered tilting my neck for appearance reasons. “He wants to know if your with him and why he didn’t come?” she laughed.

“I want to know who told him I was with Tom in the first place, it wasn’t serious for us. Now it’s cock blocking me.” I frowned.

“Apparently serious enough for him to find out, to someone anyways.” she sighed telling me something I hadn’t thought about. Tom must have told him, who else? But why? I looked at him and she quickly pulled my face to hers kissing me on the lips to shut me up. The guys all laughed per usual as we shared a weird knowing look. She glanced behind me and in the windows reflection I could see Haz staring at us. My eyes bugged out as I mouthed NO WAY!

“Some fires never die doll, we've been creeping all week, and I call dibs on the spare bedroom.” My mouth dropped open as she tapped my ass lightly and told me to move.

I got up looking blown away, but happy for her and him. And now it was my turn and Tom was my target. I sat across from him and asked him truth or dare. I raised my eyebrow for him to challenge me.

“Truth, darling, always truth for you pretty girl.” he cooed making my face heat up at my very personal nickname he only called me when we were intimate.

“Did you tell a certain someone about us Tommy?” I cooed his nickname back making him slightly uncomfortable. His brown eyes closed as he pulled back his long loose brown curls. Then he bit his lip to hide his victory smile before I could rephrase it to my advantage.

“Yes darling, I did tell a certain someone about us, in fact I don’t think I ever stopped, right Haz?”

I got up from the table knowing he won fair and square. I was too drunk to focus on all this.

We popped in a scary movie and all settled in the small living room between bedrooms to watch it. Not even halfway in Harry was falling asleep. Tom told him to go to the second bedroom so we could have more room. Zendaya hit my leg that was draped over hers calling me into action.

“No Harry, take my room, it’s yours and Tom's tonight, your my guest!” I smiled at her.

He shrugged sleepily and headed to bed, not noticing the hell no mood Tom was now sporting. It took Zendaya and Haz ten minutes to depart into the second bedroom. I stretched out on the couch with plenty of room for only two people.  My body froze as I felt Tom move underneath my blanket and shift himself behind me. I closed my eyes as he wrapped his arms around me in a cuddly way. I prayed for the strength to tell him to move back to his side. That strength never came. In fact I pressed my soft body more into his hard one as he kissed my hair and nuzzled my neck. I'm only human, I needed some TLC and this was platonic right? So it was okay, right? I blocked the truth that screamed at me as he squeezed me tighter. Before I knew it the movie was rolling credits and neither one of us were moving for fear of breaking the unspoken agreement. We just needed basic human contact. We weren't wrong for that. Right? I started to close my eyes as his breathing grew heavy in a sleeping rhythm.

I was pulled back to reality as my phone started to ring loudly in the quiet living room. I reached for it underneath the covers finding something harder between Tom's powerful thighs instead. He moaned in response as he handed me my glowing screen filled with a beautiful face. My heart was in my throat as I realized I was supposed to call him before bed and he was probably pacing his hotel room by now. I sat up, my eyes pleading Tom's sleepy eyes to give me privacy and he did without protest as he slipped inside my room and closed the door. I answered his second call on the first ring.

“Hi babe, I'm sorry I didn't call you, we watched a movie and I fell asleep on the couch.” I pouted as his worried brows pinched together even more.

“I can see that Jessa.” he smiled to my relief. “Did they leave you alone all by your beautiful sexy self?” he asked biting his lip giving me that look that said he was in a playful phone sex kind of mood. Fuck, he was honestly so hot, just as much as he was sweet. I wished he was here even more. It was clear he was intoxicated and wanting me in ways he practiced restraint from. This was a time he was willing to slip.

“Actually, I'm not alone sexy, they are asleep in the bedrooms, I'm just being kind.”

He pouted at the thought but quickly brushed it aside. “What's on your mind?” I whispered as he chewed his lip.

“You Jess, and your beautiful lips, I haven't seen you in almost a month, I miss all of you sweetheart, I promise, but tonight...I miss your body so much. Fuck I regret not making love to you. I actually regret it a lot.” he said soft rolling onto his back. “Babe, can we play? I really fucking need you.” he moaned showing me he was naked under his sheets and rock hard.

Between my alcohol fueled blood and my heated craving for him, I was more than willing to play.

“Take your clothes off, please Jessa” he begged as he stroked himself a few times.

Fuck, he was hot...and so was I. He wasn't holding back tonight. I lived to hear him moan my name, he made it sound so beautiful. I pulled my bottoms off and held my panties up for him.

“Humm, let me watch you take the rest off.” I bit my lip and set the phone against the covers as I did as he asked. “Your so beautiful Jessa.” he moaned heavily as I caressed my breast for him. “Touch yourself, and say my name, please baby” he said as his face flushed.

He wasn't very verbal but he always tried for me, I usually had to lead him into it. Tonight we just flowed off one another. I did everything he asked me too and tried to keep it quiet, my headphones were in my bag along with my mini friend so getting release wasn't as easy for me. But I didn't let him know that. I could take care of myself later. As he got closer I whimpered wondering how his big cock would feel inside me. He was very skilled with his hands and mouth, I couldn't wait to see how good he could really make me feel.

“I want you baby, please tell me I can have all of you when I see you next time, my body is crazy wondering what you feel like...please..please, say yes to me.” I begged as he found release. I could tell from his smile as he came down that he was considering it.

“As soon as your away from Tom, how about we give our bodies what they want?” he smiled both sexy and shy. I smiled back as I agreed and we said good night.

I stared at the ceiling trying to unwind my body from not getting its release. A cold shower would have to do. I sat up to grab my shirt from the floor and my bedroom door opened. I knew who it was without looking. I covered my naked body as I met Toms hooded dark gaze. He smiled causing me to shake my head and bite my lip, he had heard it all. He leaned against the wall and I looked anywhere but at him.

“Need help pretty baby?” he asked raising his unruly brow and licking his lips. “Has he really not made love to you yet?” I sighed feeling my body tingle as I exhaled ready to spill the tea.“Have you and him not..like ever?” he asked almost excited by the discovery. My face flushed hot at his sexy tone. “Is it my fault? If it is you should let me make it up to you.”

“Make it up how Tom?” I mumbled as my core heated at the thought.

“I'll make you cum, you won't have to fake it with me either, promise sexy baby”

“Tom I can't, I'm not a cheater, you should know that about me. Even if you were the last.., I..I..just won't.” I sighed laying down and covering my embarrassment.

“Wait, what..?” he said coming closer to me.

“You have to let me help now, I won't touch, I promise.” he pulled the covers off my face and winked at me.

“But how..” I whined covering my eyes with my arm. He pulled the covers down exposing my rock hard nipples. I covered my breasts with my hands and locked eyes with him.

“Just like that pretty baby, do it just like I would.” he said moving the hair away from my face and placing his hand over mine.

“Go slow, feel every inch of your soft skin as you slide lower. Feel your heart race as I bite at your skin.” he watched my hand as I pinched my nipple hard, making a trail with my other hand like he used to before he touched me everywhere and anywhere but where I ached for him to touch.

“Yes pretty baby, listen to your breathing, you can't wait to cum can you?” he said in my ear, his breath on my neck.

“Tommy, I can't..I can't.” I moaned

“Yes you can, it's just you baby.” he encouraged

“That's the problem, I haven't been with anyone since..” I hid my face in the couch “I need my magic wand.” I laughed feeling embarrassed at the name he gave it so long ago.

“Is it here..where? I'll grab it!” he stood up revealing his hard on. I pointed at my room and he went in without further instructions because he's the one who bought it for me with a pillow that had a hidden compartment that was made for hiding toys. He was gone all of 60 seconds. No time to process what we were getting into.

He pulled off his shirt and I grabbed it from him covering my face and to inhale his scent. Wow, I was intoxicated by him and sangria, not sure who had my mind more blown.

“Can we try..with the magic wand first?” he said taking my hand into his and placing it onto my stomach. I shook my head yes with my face hot under his shirt. He pulled it away and I held it with my teeth causing him to laugh.

“Touch yourself Jessa, let me watch.” he begged, coming so close to my face his hair tickled my skin making my nipples painfully harder. I closed my eyes as he pushed the covers all the way off of me, exposing my naked hot skin to the chill in the air. His warm breath made me arch my back as he blew over my breast. His lips touched them as a consequence of my sudden reaction.

“Fuck, sexy baby, don't make me break my promise.” he said pushing my fingers inside me with his hand on mine. His fingers were soaked instantly and he sucked them clean.  

I let out a cry as his palm brushed my sensitive nub and I worked my fingers slowly. He whispered encouraging hot words as the sounds of my moans and wet sex filled the quiet room. He watched me as I hid my face from his. I knew I shouldn't moan his name but I wanted to, it was messing with my task at hand.

“Stop holding back, if I wasn't here what would you be doing Jess?” he said tilting my face to his. This was sensory overload but I couldn't say it, it wouldn't come out. He moved away from my face and I felt the couch dip as he kneeled between my legs.

“Oh shit Tom!” I cried out as he blew his breath on my silky sex. My eyes rolled into my head as his hair brushed my legs.

“Cum Jess, give your kitty what it needs” he moaned hovering above my body. His arms held him just above my stomach, not breaking his promise. “Look at me when you cum beautiful.” he said biting his lip hard.

I stared into his beautiful dark eyes as mine glazed over and his name fell from my lips.

“Fuck, your so beautiful Jessa, he has no idea what he's missing.” he moaned moving lower again. His hair tickled my legs as he leaned down too close to my entrance.

I closed my legs on instinct with his face in between. He smiled as I covered my exposed sex and took my hand away, placing it into his mouth. I watched wide eyed as he now licked my silky sex from my hand. “I want you so bad baby, I wish I could show you just how much, but hopefully I can while keeping my promise.”

Without warning he slipped my magic wand through my folds and rubbed it over my swollen clit. I arched my back pressing it into his hard shirtless chest as he pushed it inside me slowly until he hit my wall. He let out a moan as my breast kept colliding into his chest.  

“Tom..ohhh fuck!” I gasped as he aimed it up and applied pressure to where he knew my g-spot was. Then he hit vibrate as he held it in place. My hips bucked upwards causing his hand to slide across my wet sex. He let out a rough growl and put his legs over my feet to hold me down. He smirked at me as I begged him to fuck me, he knew my body like it still belonged to him. And yeah, perhaps it did.

“Cum for your Tommy, pinch your clit for me baby, I want to watch you explode in my hands.” he moaned as he pulled my hand to meet his.

I did everything he asked and as I felt the wave crash I screamed his name hard as I came. My body went wild as the sounds of my soaked kitty echoed in the room.

Tom didn't give me time to recover as he worked the wand with a quick pace. I tried to push him away but he wasn't having it. I held onto his hand and dug my nails into his flesh as I cried with pleasure into his shirt, trying to block the sounds. He leaned over me and pulled it away from my face as I repeated his name and begged him to fuck me. He put his left hand on the side of my face and held himself up as he worked the toy faster. He looked at every inch of my face and my breast. His attention was everywhere, he was growing frantic as my second orgasm was draining my voice from my lungs. I kissed his strong arm and licked the veins that popped out before I bit down as I exploded again. He blew his breath over my hot sweat soaked body as he held the wand inside me letting me come down. My legs trembled uncontrollably and traveled to my lungs as I tried to steady my breaths.

“Wow.wow.wow. baby, that was amazing, you really haven't been touched since me have you?” he looked at me differently and it made me want to hide.

“I haven't been with anyone since you, I haven't even bothered until..well..him.” I swallowed feeling embarrassed and confused “He refused to be with me until he knew I could give all of me to him, he was..is..intimidated by you Tom.”

He wrapped my wand in his shirt and slipped it under the blankets. I sat up on my elbows looking at his body and seeing how hard he has been working on it. He looked bigger and more defined. My mouth dropped open as he undid his pants and his hard cock peeked out of his boxer briefs.

“I'm sorry, I'm in pain baby..I'll be right back.” he got up quickly and headed towards the bathroom. I didn't think I just acted. I slipped on my panties and went into the bathroom as he started to undress and turned on the shower. I locked the door as he turned around shaking his head no at me.

“I made a promise, I keep my promises Jess.” he said stern pointing at the door.

“Tommy, please just let me help, I’ll keep your promise too.” I pleaded biting my lip hard. His precum was glistening on the tip of his cock. I leaned against the counter and begged him with my eyes. “Please, I even put my panties back on so we still won't be touching, just trust me.” I begged wanting more by the second.  

Tom closed his eyes and fisted his messy hair. When he opened his eyes, they were filled with hunger. He rested his forehead against mine and gripped the counter as the head of his cock rested against his belly. I hooked my fingers into his boxers and pulled him hard against my body. I rocked my hips back and forth as I played with my breasts for him. His tight boxers were soaked in seconds and clung to the thin lace of my panties.  

He looked into my eyes, deciding for himself. I moaned his name as he lifted one leg around his hip and held it there. He was struggling to stay in control. He pulled up my other leg.  

“Fuck I need to be inside you Jessa.” he whimpered.

He rolled more precum around his tip and squeezed tight. I reached down in a lusty haze and he wrapped my arms around his strong neck before removing me off the sink and into the shower. The water was hot but he shielded me from the pain with his body and rested me against the cold tiled wall as he reached to adjust the temp. The water soaked his hair and ran down his face, his long lashes, perfect jawline, thick neck, broad shoulders, pecs that were a hella in shape. He looked up at me and pulled my lip out of my teeth with a smile that melted my heart.

“Your going to make your lip swollen luv, that’s for someone else to do.” he said staring at my mouth. I stuck my tongue out and he ran his thumb over it for a impulsive second or two.

He set me down and I turned around to give him a view of my ass, he let out a moan as I pressed my ass against his bare cock. I worked my hips in circles as he rocked his back and forth in perfect rhythm. He gripped my panties hard and made them ride up into my ass crack. It was the only tiny piece of fabric between us but it was enough to keep his promise, if he pulled any more they would tear right off. I pulled away and he whimpered at the loss of contact.

“Time for you to cum for me Tommy.” I moaned as he gripped his thick cock. I held onto his biceps as he stroked himself slow and tight. “I want to taste you, can I?” I whispered as I reached for the body wash.

He picked me up as I opened it and moved me against the wall. My back arched at the coldness of the tiles and he licked the water from my neck, shit this was getting out of control and fast. I squeezed the soap in between our bodies and it did its own thing as he started to trust his body up and down. I could feel my own orgasm build as he moaned my name between clench teeth and I joined in moaning his name. Our eyes kept finding one anothers as both of us could feel my panties shifting and his cock making contact with my bare sex. He stopped thrusting and I pulled his hair as I adjusted his cock to slide in between my legs, against my skin but not my sex. He moaned my name in approval and picked up the pace. I gripped tighter to him as he sang my name beautifully in my ear, over and over.

“Cum for me one more time Jess, please sexy baby.” he said rubbing his nose against my wet neck. I nodded yes as he pulled my panties away that were pressed against my sex and sent me into a frenzy as he kept his fingers over his thick head. I pushed my foot off the side of the shower and it gave me enough forced weight to spread his fingers, letting the tip slide in. He pulled my hair hard as I exploded on him, his eyes went wide as he felt my hot silk sliding down his hand and cock. “You naughty girl.” he growled.

Tom watched me fall apart and it was his undoing as he squeezed himself tight and jerked his cock faster. I watched his face as he closed his eyes and formed that perfect fucking O as he started to cum all over me and him. The water raced against me as I put some of him in my mouth. His beautiful long lashes opened as he watched me suck my fingers until his taste was absolutely gone. He smiled at me almost shy and my heart did that melting thing again.    

His jaw tightened as he struggled to keep a good grip on my wet body. I held on tighter so he could keep me in his arms a little longer. Shit, this was becoming something else. I could feel it. I wasn’t ready to be let go of. My heart started to hammer as he set me down. He kissed my forehead and held me close letting me know he wasn’t going anywhere just yet. We washed each other up and not in a sexual way. He even removed my panties and tossed them by his on the bathroom floor. He watched me clean my kitty and I felt myself wanting him yet again. I would do whatever he wanted to keep his beautiful eyes on me. I turned around to rinse off and was caught off guard when he pulled me into his arms.

“Will you sleep with me tonight Jessa, please?” he asked kissing my neck sweetly. I shook my head yes and he turned off the water. “Okay give me a few moments, you stay here and lotion up. I’ll be right back my beautiful girl.” he got out scooping up the clothes and grabbing a towel. I heard some grunting and whispering from Tom and Harry in the living room. I brushed my teeth as I processed sleeping alone in a bedroom, behind closed doors! On the couch was one thing! I rinsed out my mouth as he came in with a robe. He frowned at my toothbrush and took it from me. I reached for it too late as he stuck it in his mouth. Eww, I hated that when he did that!

“What, you did it first.” he winked getting it wet and adding toothpaste. I rolled my eyes like old times and headed to the bedroom in search of my phone. I did it without further thought and on my own accord. I sent my now ex exclusive a message that we needed a heart to heart. Tomorrow I would confess I still had feelings for Tom like he’s always already known and I would set him free. I turned my phone on silent and got under the covers to wait for my Tom. He came in quietly and made himself at home as he laid on top of my naked skin. I went into auto pilot and ran my fingers through his damp long curls.

“Thank you and that was amazing by the way.” I whispered as he peeked up at me.

“Jess, don’t thank me. Your the one who is amazing.” he whispered kissing my tummy.

“I’m thanking you because you actually kept your promise.”

“I do that quite a lot, yet people are always surprised.” he smiled than quickly frowned. “Perhaps if I would have been honest with you and not your exclusive, we could of saved each other all this confusion.”

I gasped at his confirmation that he did indeed tell him about us.

“Tom, what did you tell him and why?” He rolled onto his back and pulled me on top of him now. He looked guilty and sorry. “Is it that bad Tom?” he ran his thumb over my lips as he confessed.

“It was the first time we met, when you brought him to Zendaya's birthday party. After I got liquid courage I pulled him aside and asked him if he cared about you. He answered yes in a defensive way and it pissed me off. So I told him if he didn’t care he could leave because I was ready to prove that I already cared for you. Then I was an asshole and told him he better learn how priceless you are, because during the time I had you I wasted it on being to afraid to tell you and I lost you. He let me walk away without saying a word. I think he was ready to punch me. He didn’t leave your side the rest of the party because if he did I was going to just tell you the truth.”

“What’s truth Tom? Tell me now, perhaps it can save more confusion.”

“You were my closest friend. Number one outside of Haz, Jessa. I always wanted you around. Every tour, every comic con, the interviews..then we became whatever we were. I thought we were piecing the puzzle, then we drifted apart.”

“We agreed friendship wouldn’t add pressure to our skyrocketing careers Tom.” I felt my emotions kick up as he wiped my tear. “I didn’t want to lose you all the way.”

“I only agreed because I thought it was my only option to not lose you either way.”

“Tom tell me the truth you told him..” I said closing my eyes bracing myself.     

“I love you Jessa, the truth is I’ve loved you as my friend and just fell deeper in love. I’ve never stopped loving you baby.”

“I love you too Tom and I’m not afraid to keep loving you.”

We drifted off to sleep in eachothers arms, clung to one another like we would never let go.

  Thank you for reading this! If you like what your reading, let me know with a like and reblog. I’m sorry for being gone so long but I’m back and have plenty to share. Happy reading until next time! Hugz!!   

Tagging for singnal boost I’m sorry just a little nervous after a 4 mo hiatus. Let me know if you want removed and I will :) @hazhasmycoffeex3 @uglypastels @cryssilynn18 @frootloop311 @tentarium @celestesteffens @cartwheelandfaceplant @the-claire-bitch-project

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[gutterdreams]

Cytokinesis [Billy Hargrove]

Disclaimer: I do not own the GIF or Stranger Things. Word Count: 2.1 k Warnings: Lite smut, some swearing.

I finally wrote fluff. I can not believe it.

MASTERLIST

“This is so boring.” Billy griped for the second time since you started studying four minutes ago and slammed the textbook cover shut. He was laying on his back on your bed, shoulders to the headboard, while you were beside him on your stomach, feet up in the air. With a devious sort of smile, he set aside the textbook on the edge of your night stand beside him and cracked his fingers together in front of him.

Billy loathed studying. In fact, he felt confident that if you asked him to study for the upcoming biology test or go on a double date to the movies with Princess Nancy Wheeler and Steve Harrintgon at peak make out time, he would choose the latter in a heartbeat. His cold hands slid up your black leggings until they were both on top of your butt and squeezing.

“Billy...” Half laughing, you let out his name like a warning while keeping your face forward and on your textbook. He shushed you softly and turned his groping into a kneading motion as if he was trying to do charity work, giving you a butt massage. It felt great, but you knew it would not last. Billy always had a hidden agenda it generally was either about scoring free beer or wiggling you out of your clothes for his viewing and tasting pleasure.

“Baby, you're so tight...” He moaned and pressed his palms into your cheeks, squeezing it like it was Play-doh between each finger. He had been working on your body for a grand total of twenty one seconds, but he was already more focused than he had been on his textbook.

“I invited you over to study, Billy.” You reminded him with a little laugh, looking over your shoulder. He was caught, grinning down at your butt while his jeans tightened around his growing groin. Your feet were up in the air, mindlessly moving in back and forth.

“I am studying.” Sliding his eyes up at you, he flirted mischievously.

“I invited you over to study biology.”

“Well, it's anatomy that I really want to focus on.” Earning himself an eye roll that reached the back of your skull, Billy mumbled. He leaned down and pulled on the elastic waist of your leggings, revealing your little back dimples for him to kiss. He moaned against them, heat radiating from his chapped lips with each little suck. It felt good. You couldn't lie. “Baby, put your book away.” He whispered against your skin, one hand still palming your ass while the other played with the band of your pants. “I want to play with you.”  He winked to the back of your head. Much to his dismay, you turned a page in your textbook and picked up the capped highlighter beside it.

He sighed and let go of your pants, drawing one hand from your hip, up your spine, until his fingers were just tapping against the nape of your neck. He laid down on his stomach and kissed behind your ear, sucked on the lobe, and then started pressing little pecks around your cheek to your jawline. Billy was relentless when he wanted something,  but especially when you were what he was working for.

“Billy...” His mouth drew the side of your face to his as you giggled. Using the highlighter, you tried to weasel his wet lips away. “Billy....” He took the marker from you though, barely breaking contact, and threw it behind him. The sound of it hitting something on your shelf didn't even entice him to look away. “Billy, we have to study!” You used your hand and pushed his face away. Luckily, he smiled at the gesture, amused at how much he was driving you nuts.

“I hate studying. I'll just wing it.” Billy didn't spend a lot of time worrying about how he did in school. You were different in that regard. Your parents didn't put much pressure on you to earn top marks, but you still spent a good chunk of time every day finishing assignments and going over notes. At the Hargrove house, Billy's dad used his grades to ridicule him, but he didn't at all feel inspired to so much as take notes in class. With ease, you got into the habit of making a second set after school for him to use. He rarely would say it, but he was thankful for that and it had saved his ass a handful of times before a test.

“No, come on.” Wiggling around as he slid off your bed and started looking around your room, searching for something to procrastinate with, you rolled onto your side and followed him from corner to corner. He leaned up to your calendar, ignoring the baby pig in a planter pot on it, and started looking at what you had coming up this month. “Just for fifteen minutes.”

His arms shook out childishly as if you had said 'two hours'.

“I'm hungry.” He griped and lifted up the calendar page to check out the next month. He wanted to see if you marked down his birthday. He was surprised, but completely moved when he noticed you did write it down and even put a shiny green star sticker on the date. Billy might not have been getting his way right now, but nobody had ever made him feel so important before.

“I can whip up some spaghetti.” Your parents were on their own date night, now that both you and your siblings were teenagers, they tried to go out twice a month – if not more. Still, you knew your way around a jar of crushed tomatoes and a spice rack.

Spinning around, Billy looked just as aroused as before. His gorgeous girlfriend making him dinner? That was something he could go for. He was already imagining your hips moving around while you stirred a boiling pot of pasta noodles.

“After we study.” Just as his hopes were lifted, you dropped a hammer and crushed them. Billy's devastated sigh came out of him like a gust of October wind. “Fifteen minutes.” You hung your legs over the side of the bed and stood up to track down the highlighter that he had tossed away, spotting it by the garbage bin just under the shelf where your framed pictures were, a snow globe from childhood, and your folded jeans that your mom had been on you for days to put away. “I'll tell you what, Billy,” It wasn't unusual to have to drum up some deal with your boyfriend. He looked like a man and was often mistaken for one when you two drove outside of Hawkins, but his behavior mimicked someone much younger than him. He had a lot in common with your seven year old Aaron who would rather die than not get his own way. “If you study, actually study, with me for fifteen minutes...” You had his attention as he held one of his elbows and leaned into the wall by your calendar, watching you walk over to him. He was paying more attention to the shape your painted pink mouth was making instead of the actual words you were saying. “then we can take a practice test,” They were all at the back of the textbooks. “and for every question you get right, I will go down on you for a minute.” Billy's fingers were loosely playing with the bottom of your flimsy white blouse,  but now he was gripping at it to pull you close. It was too sweet of a deal to pass up and he purred at  the sound of his girlfriend folded over on the bed by his groin, working him like she was short on rent.

“What if I get, like, thirty questions, right?” He didn't know exactly how long this practice test would be. “You're going to blow me for a half hour?”

“I guess so.” You chuckled. Of course, this would make him comply. It was just like how you said you two could try anal if he didn't hurl an insult at anybody you went to school with for a whole week. Billy had been choked when he slipped up and called Harrington a 'fucknut' on the second last day. You actually thought he would was going to cry into your sweater after, whining that he wanted to 'fuck your ass so bad though....' and 'fucknut isn't really an insult.'

“Alright. It's a deal.” He let go of your shirt and clapped his hands together. He decided this was going to be a piece of cake and leaned in to kiss you, one hand on your back to press you closer to his chest. He wanted you to be as distracted as possible while studying with him so that you needed to have him after regardless of his score. Still, Billy decided he would be happy if he just managed to get three questions right.

“However, if you fail, I'll still do the minute per right answer, but...”

His head fell with his shoulders and he turned slowly at the sound of the 'b' word, looking over at you with dread in his eyes. Was the ‘but...’? Were you going to use teeth for the whole duration? Would you be blasting Michael Bolton the entire time? Did he have to wear a condom? What? What? What?

“If you get under fifty percent, we have to stay in tonight and study.”

Billy threw his head backwards and tossed his arms out, making you laugh as you shook your chin at him.

“It's fair.” Your palm smacked the exposed skin coming out of his shirt as you went back to your bed to return to your textbook.

“You're an evil girl.” As he climbed onto the bed right beside you, he gave your butt a gentle pat and then picked up the textbook.

“Yeah, I'm so bad, I want my boyfriend to do well in class.” You mocked back with little expression in your voice, focusing on the textbook that was open in front of you.

Billy set a fifteen minute timer on his watch before he opened his own book to the correct chapter. He did not want to have to do any more reading than necessary especially if, in the end, he was going to get his girlfriend's warm and wet mouth around his cock for, at the very least, sixty seconds.

He was impatient as you graded his test, sitting up in the middle of your bed as you did. Billy watched your highlighter move with big gestures like a conductor of an orchestra would with their wand. He couldn't tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“So, you passed...”

Billy jumped off of the bed with a theatrical leap, tossing a fist above his head and pumping it through the air. He wasn't actually sure if he would and it felt good to not feel like he was as dumb as adults often made him feel.

“Not by much though, so we should still study.” You know Billy would be bugging you to go out and look for something fun to do with him after dinner, but you had to try and push the right thing anyway. “I'm really proud of you.” You crawled to the edge of the  bed and raised your chin up to make yourself easier to kiss. “Sixteen questions right.” You told him as he put two fingers right on the side of your jaw and raised your face higher for him to come down and make out with. He wasted no time leaning in, kissing you ardently, and using his hands to push your books and pencils off of the top of the made bed. Billy leaned one knee in first and felt at your ass that he was obsessed with again before lying down.

Once comfortable, he played with your hair and watched you lower yourself to his jeans. He reached down to to help you with the buckle of his belt, knowing he would be faster than you at removing the strict fabric from his strong legs. Just as Billy was unzipping his fly, his stomach gurgled like a raccoon going through empty trash cans in the middle of the night.

“Do you want me to make spaghetti first?” You were combing hair behind your ears in preparation, but Billy shook his head 'no' furiously.

“No way. I learned about mitosis for this!” He claimed with a frown and wiggled out of his jeans, so that you could tease him through his boxers first. It drove him mad, all your little tricks that brought him some of his most gratifying orgasms.

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