#because that man absolutely appreciates a good sliding door

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

Well to solve your last issue, 67 words this time? 😉

He directs a wry look her way but agrees to leave her in the company of the two men who were now circling the car with exaggerated appreciation. 

Carrie waves Luke and Willie back to allow Henry room to leave. “It’s like you’ve never seen a town car before. Do you not use drivers?” 

“Hm? No. We drive ourselves,” Luke explains, gesturing toward a nearby car. Carrie didn’t even know cars this old could still be on the road, if she was being entirely honest.

send a number and i'll add that many words to a wip

[sinsirellaxx]

Man I love your toxic Slytherin boys writings (I reread them as my bedtime stories every night since I found your account 🤭) but knowing my personality and temper, there's no way I would let their toxicity slide 😩🫸

Pls pls pls pretty pls will you write where we put them in their place and have them grovel and trail after us like a lost puppy? 🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️🧎🏻‍♀️

Slytherin Boys – What they’ re like if you put them in their place

Warning: Toxic Slytherin boys 😌

A/N: Thank you so much! That is very sweet of you – hope you always have sweet dreams! 🤭 Honestly, same – I love a good temper! Hope you like what I have come up with! And sorry that some are a bit shorter than the rest! If you want a part two (for the groveling and trailing part) let me know! (I didn't include this here and I only noticed that it was part of the request now – so, sorry about that)

On another note: I've added Tom Riddle to the boys and will be doing so from now on! Comments are appreciated!

Mattheo …

… is shocked. He was used to always getting away with things, given the status he had attained through his family name – and his own actions. In his past relationships (or situationships) he had his girls practically kiss his feet and were ready to do everything for him and to him. But here you were, his first real relationship and apparently the boon and bane of his existence. You were getting ready for the party in your common room and had chosen a rather risky black skin-tight dress for that evening. Mattheo usually never cared about what his dates or girls wore – actually, he loved them to wear revealing clothes because he wanted to show off. But with you, he hated the idea of other people staring at you. He’d walked into your dorm room before the party – also something he had never done before – and immediately shook his head upon seeing your dress. “Absolutely not.”

You turned to look at him in confusion, closing the lip gloss you had just applied before putting it back into your make-up bag.

“You can’t wear that. The dress is way too short and – just no.” Mattheo glared as he looked you up and down. “I don’t want anyone to stare at you with like that. You’re mine –“

You scoffed loudly, fully erupting into a laugh as you stared at him with raised brows.

The frown on Mattheo’s face deepened as you walked up to him, placing your hand on his cheek as you slowly shook your head. It’s sweet you think you can tell me what to wear – because you can’t. You spoke smirking at him. And I’m not yours.So please get that silly idea out of your head. You can’t tell me what to do. You tapped his cheek slightly before walking towards your door, leaving Mattheo no time to react. The door closed behind you leaving him to brood in silence as he breathed through his nose, his hands clenched at his sides.

Well fuck.

Theodore …

… is kind of pissed but also kind of turned on. He can’t decide which feeling is stronger. You two have been fighting over you refusing to always tell him where you’re going and with whom. If he had asked nicely, you probably would have told him. But Theodore had been rude and controlling about it.

“You can’t just go wherever you want without telling me first. I need to know where you are and with whom you are.” The tall male demanded as he had you pressed against the door to your dorm room. He had waited for your arrival at the top of the stairs because he wanted to talk to you. You had ignored all his calls and messages, and he was livid with you – how dare you not answer him?

Upon seeing him you had rushed past him, with the hopes of closing the door to your room right in his face but he was quicker than you had expected.

You rolled your eyes for the umpteenth time, obviously annoyed by his antics.

Fuck off. Get off my fucking dick, Nott.

Theo smirked, he loved when you got bratty. “No, but you can jump on mine.” He whispered against your ear as he opened the door to your room and pushed you inside.

Lorenzo …

… is speechless. Lorenzo Berkshire is known to have many girl friends falling for his prince-like appearance. He enjoys the attention and loves to feed his ego. It was something that you had to get used to when you agreed to be with him, but you eventually found your peace with it. You were sitting on Enzo’s bed with your phone in your hands, typing away and smiling at the screen.

Lorenzo noticed your smile and raised his brow as he watched your fingers move quickly. If not for the typing, he would have thought you were watching cute animal videos, but he was sure you were chatting with someone. He couldn’t help but ask, “Who are you texting?”

You didn’t answer at first, your fingers still moving until you finished your last message. As you clicked ‘send’ you lifted your head to look at your boyfriend. You told Enzo you were talking with your seat-neighbor about something funny that had happened in divination that day.

“Oh, is it Granger?” He added, growing slightly nervous because you left out the most important detail. Who was it, that made you smile like that at your screen? Lorenzo was known for being – well he tried to be – patient with you. He loved you after all. He had managed to be in almost every single class you had – except for divination. Ever since the beginning of the term he’d been thinking about it: Who were you sitting with? Were there many boys? Would you talk to any of them?

You finally answered him: Harry Potter. Enzo felt this weird warmth spread through his whole body as his heart started beating incredibly fast, his hands unconsciously balling up into fists to prevent them from trembling.

“You are friends with Potter?” He spat, putting special emphasis on the Chosen One’s name. Oh, how he hated that boy. You just nodded; your phone vibrated in your lap. Lorenzo ripped the phone out of your hand before you even managed to unlock the screen. “I don’t want you to talk to him. Block him.”

You just rolled your eyes at him and demanded him to give you your phone back.

“No.” He shook his head and stood up from the bed, already typing in your code he had managed to figure out from staring at your screen whenever you unlocked it.

“I don’t want you to have any male friends – am I not enough for you?” His voice raised a notch as he held you at arm’s length with his left hand while trying to open the messenger app with his right one. He clicked on the chat with ‘Harry’ and read through the messages, scoffing as he saw just how much you have been chatting with him. His face contorting in anger as he reread the messages from last night.

“You’re planning on going to Hogsmeade with him?!”

“Fuck, no.” He exclaimed loudly, rolling his eyes when you had finally managed to get your phone back before he could send whatever message he had typed in.

“You won’t go.” Lorenzo added with finality, glaring at you in hopes of intimidating you into submission.

He expected you to cry and get insecure, but he did not expect you to scoff at him, hands on your hips as you told him he couldn’t tell you what to do. You quickly grabbed your things and left the room not bothering to close the door after you. He could do that himself.

Lorenzo was too stunned to speak.

Draco …

… (almost) has a panic attack. Remember that scene in the bathroom in the sixth movie, where Harry finds him? Yeah – that kind of panic attack. You had just told him to leave you alone until he got his head out of his ass because he had threatened to break up with you if you didn’t break off your friendship with the golden trio. Draco would not have expected you to walk out on him – he usually always got what he wanted, and this turn of events completely threw him off. He gripped the front of his shirt as he gasped for air, the other hand combing through his hair as he paced through his room.

Rushing into the bathroom he splashed his face with cold water as nothing else seemed to help. When he finally lifted his head to look at his reflection in the mirror he had to accept the truth: He apparently needed you more than you needed him.

He would have to win you back. Even if he had to beg.

Blaise …

… would think you were joking when you told him you didn’t need him to protect you.

You were fuming as you pushed Blaise’s hands off, telling him that what he had done was completely wrong and uncalled for.

“Why are you mad?  I just protected you, doll. I saw the way he looked at you.” Blaise tried to reason with you. He couldn’t just sit still when another boy tried getting closer to you. Over his dead body. But you didn’t seem to agree with him as you shook your head in disbelief. “I didn’t push him away for no reason, did I?” He sighed, growing impatient with you as told him that there had been no reason to hurt the other boy. “Babe, I did it for you, you know?” And that was the last straw for you as you yelled at him to leave you alone. You are suffocating me, Blaise. This is over – we are over!

Blaise knew then that he had overstepped your boundaries. Again. He should have run after you and begged for your forgiveness right away. But he also knew that you probably would need some time to cool down. You’d be back in his arms soon, he was sure of it.

Tom Riddle ...

... would let you have your moment. Tom had been bored nowadays and he was actually intrigued to know how far you'd go and what you'd do exactly.

Tom is known to be an intimidating and bossy persona – he is the born leader one could say. Seeing as he is the oldest son of the Dark Lord that came as no surprise to anyone. Everyone had high expectations of him so he projected all that pressure onto you: You had to be perfect. Not what you deemed as perfect but what he thought was perfection. At first you let him control you, blinded by love and the attraction you felt for him. But after months of dating, and his demands getting increasingly more suffocating you have had enough.

Your complaints and worries, however, were met by indifference. Tom did not care. "What do you expect me to say?" He spoke lowly as he looked up at you from where he was sat on his bed.

You just blinked at him dumbfoundedly not sure what outcome you had expected.

"You knew what you were getting into, when I asked you to be my girlfriend." Tom tilted his head as he leaned back on his arms. "Now, if you have anything else to add to this ... very productive conversation, please, go ahead. If not, get on your knees."

There it was again. The hurt and the humiliation. He only wanted one thing and nothing else. But this time, you wouldn't let yourself be manipulated. This time, you told him to go fuck himself before storming out of his room.

[withloveajaxx]

so baby let's keep this secret

𓂅 genre: modern! childe, scara, al haitham, xiao x gn! reader

𓂅 warnings: hints of making out in scara's part + childe's part is a hint of suggestive teasing

𓂅 summary: secret relationship with the genshin boys

𓂅 note: this is my first time writing for scara and haitham so,,, apologies if i mischaracterize them or they seem out of character :"D comments on their characterization are greatly appreciated ^^ but yea, that's it hehe, hope u enjoy this fic n have a wonderful day!!

CHILDE

tbf a secret relationship with childe isn't a secret to anyone at all because mans is whipped for you, but we gotta give him some credit for holding himself back from kissing you 24/7.

a "secret" relationship with this man is basically minimalized pda with a huge amount of teasing.

he absolutely loves to be the sole reason why your cheeks get red and you get all flustered in public.

when people ask you what's wrong and you can barely get out a blatant lie, childe already has a smug, yet somehow charming smirk on his face.

he's not good at hiding how whipped he is, but he does surprisingly well hiding his touches from the general eye of the public.

like whenever he's in a restaurant with you, he always makes it a point to sit beside you. he is never sitting anywhere else.

secondly, his hand is always on your thigh or fiddling with your fingers beneath the table. he simply cannot resist touching you in any way.

and finally, if he's being a little bitch… he'll slyly sneak an arm around your waist, squeezing it gently. i can bet my life he's lifting your shirt up slightly to rub your exposed skin to get you all bothered.

he's absolutely ravishing you when you get home though. spoiling you with kisses, cuddles, and anything you ask from him <3

ngl, with how touchy feely he is, i don't think people are gonna take that long to figure out what's going on between you two. the "secret" relationship is unfortunately a 5/10 in terms of success.

SCARAMOUCHE

you cannot tell me this man wouldn't take your relationship to his grave. 10/10 in this secret relationship 💀

unlike childe, he can keep his eyes and his hands off of you in public. he has a lot of self control and no amount of your teasing is going to get him to expose you guys (unless you pull out the tears or some begging then maybe). but like childe… he is absolutely obsessed with you when yall have a little private time.

this is where it gets spicy but i can just imagine scaramouche just reaching his limit from holding himself back from you after a long day, and he's just ready to break when you two are behind closed doors.

after all, he is a man of little patience isn't he? when you two get to his place after a long day, he doesn't even wait for a split second until his lips are slotting themselves against yours for a heated kiss.

he has you pinned against the wall beside the door, one elbow beside your head while the other slides down to rest on your hips.

when he parts the fairly passionate kiss his lips are still hovering dangerously close to yours. he doesn't even take that long to catch his breath, diving in for another kiss until he hears abrupt knocks at his door, and a voice he knows distinctly belonging to childe.

cursing under his breath, he holds a hand over your mouth, making sure you're hidden from the direct line of sight of the door before opening it to reveal the ginger headed man.

"make it quick, dimwit. i was in the middle of doing something," scara hisses venemously, eyes narrowing at childe. poor childe chuckles in nervouseness, scratching the back of his neck. "is that so? sorry, didn't know, maybe i'll come back later."

"yeah, whatever. just scram." and with that, the door is slammed closed and sacra's undivided attention is back on you again.

"c'mon," is all he says, taking your hand in his before leading you to a more secluded space in his apartment where no one and nothing can interrupt him from having his time with you.

ALHAITHAM

i think he'd be pretty good at keeping things lowkey. he acts the same towards everyone with some exceptions to you, so i'd say 10/10.

definitely not touchy in public (nor in private to be honest), but he's definitely into the little moments.

little moments like making eye contact from across the room and sending you the slightest hints of a smile.

or even grazing your pinkies together when your walking side-by-side in thr middle of the campus hallways.

there are bits of physical affection here and there, but the main thing that gives this man away is the quality time and acts of services that he does towards you.

hatiham doesn't spend nearly as much time with others as he does with you. you're always with him whether it be in the library studying, in a coffee shop while he reads a book, or in museums looking around and scuptures and paintings.

it's especially in crowded places like museums and coffee shops where he does small actions of adoration and affection.

like when you guys go on study or book dates, you'll feel his eyes on you when you're trying to write something down or read something.

when you look at him to ask you what's wrong, he's simply staring at you with a soft expression that screams nothing but admiration and love. it's quite endearing really, to see his ears turn the lightest shade of pink afterwards.

"do you need something, haitham?" you ask, the smile he loves so much gracing your features. he gently shakes his head, reaching his hand out on the table to take yours, "no. nothing. i was just admiring you, is all."

XIAO

there's a constant redness of his usually pale cheeks is a dead giveaway to your relationship, and he's pretty protective too so i'd say a 6/10.

whenever you catch xiao staring at you, his cheeks and the tips of his ears immediately burn red, and he whips his head around so fast.

people always notice and his friends always tease him for it, but he can't help such a reaction when what he thinks is the most stunning person is looking right at him.

or whenever he looks around the room to search for you only to find that you're already looking at him… his cheeks are literally on fire.

the adorable glow on his cheeks isn't the only sign he gives though. mind you, this man is very protective over you.

he wants to make sure that absolutely no harm comes in your way, and he'll do anything to make sure of that. he doesn't care if your relationship would be exposed that way, all he cares about is your overall safety and wellbeing.

he's the type of man who pulls you closer to him while you're crossing the street or walking by the road, having his hand on you in some way in case anything happens.

the type of guy who brings random stuff like bandaids, hair ties, and sweets for you just in case you need anything.

he's also constantly asking how you are through text, just in case you need him to do something or in case you need him by your side for whatever reason.

my favourite part about secret relationships with xiao is the kind of dates you'd have. he's definitely the type of man to do homey, indoor dates. he'd build lego bouquets for and with you, he's sit for hours bingeing movies or series you like, relax and read a book with you, or even just nap and cuddle. even though your dates are mostly at home to keep away from the prying eyes of others, he's sure to make it something you'll always love and never regret.

© withloveajaxx 2022. please do not copy, plagarize, or translate in any way.

[batwritings]

Simon being absolutely pussydrunk while fuckig into you he's muttering words too himself about how good you feel and how he doesn't want to cum yet because you feel too good but ends up cum inside you https://www.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph63883f0240acd&pkey=

Video for reference cause I feel like Simon would fuck me like this especially the last position.....Im so sorry if this was too much

First things first, no apologies needed! I actually really appreciate the reference!! /gen But also, YOU'RE DAMN RIGHT HE WOULD! Can't tell me mans wouldn't fuck you like it's his last day, especially if he hasn't seen you in a bit. Enjoy!~

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

It felt like eons since you had last had a chance to be with Ghost. Being a part of TF141 certainly kept him more busy than before. It wasn't that you weren't thankful that business was booming, but...you missed your Simon.

It was a little shocking to not only you but also the rest of the task force when the big Brit scooped you up into his arms the moment he could. Normally he was rather stoic, a small hello and only once you two were home safe would he jump your bones. It seemed you'd been away from each other too long this time.

Judging by his reaction to just seeing you, it was no surprise on how you ended up in your current situation. Calloused fingers were bruising your hips lightly with their hold as Simon pulled you down onto his cock over and over. His head of short brunette hair was lolled back in pleasure.

"Fuck you're so good love," he groans, sliding a hand up your torso to rub his rough thumb over your nipple between gropes of your breast. "Ugh, fuck I missed you so much." You can feel his cock twitch when you whine from his touch.

This was such a rare side of Simon that you honestly loved seeing. Unabashed, raw love for you and your body and he didn't give a damn who heard. You both knew how thin the walls of your tiny apartment in Manchester were, but all dignity was thrown out the window the minute he kicked the door in.

His other free hand took to rubbing over your clit, earning him another high pitched keen. "That's it love, let them all hear," your lieutenant growls, letting out a groan of his own when you clench around him. "So fuckin' good, oh fuck..."

You beg for him, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes from the pleasure. This by no means had been your first orgasm, but each was better than the last. "Please Si.~ W-wanna come...!"

Ghost chuckles darkly, moaning as his pace picks up. "Whatever you want princess," he purrs. "Gonna make you feel as good as I do." His hands return to their original position, where you swore there would be indents.

It's as if the two of you were in sync, both of you arching up and back respectively. Your cries create a beautiful symphony in the room as you each ignore the thuds on the wall. Even when it was too much, he refused to leave your clit alone, elongating your pleasure as much as he could.

Finally, you each relax, you falling back against the mattress while Simon's body falls to your side. You're tugged against his chest, a hum and a kiss pressed against your forehead. You return it, pressing a peck against his pecs.

"I missed you so much sweetheart, I really did."

[bengals-barnesbabe]

Date Night

Pairing: Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Black!Nurse Reader

Warnings: mdni, mentions of sex, jokes about age.

Main Masterlist

WC: 1.3k

✧༺♥༻∞

Being at the Avengers Compound on your day off used to be weird. Avengers are cool and all, and you’re very appreciative for the chance to be considered ‘part of the team’ even if you only worked in the Medbay. No one wants to hang around their place of work when they don’t need to be. Then you started seeing a certain blue-eyed brunette super soldier.

So here you are walking through the main hallways to the the gym and passing a good amount of agents and techs enjoying their breaks. Then you hear your name being called. You look up from your phone and see Aaliyah, a friend of yours that works in the special equipment department (aka Avengers Weapons Only). You walk up to the cafe where her and some other work mates like to frequent.

“Hey Liyah, I didn’t know you were working today.”

She brings you in for a side hug. “I know, I’m not supposed to be, but Mr. Wilson just had to call me on my day off about fixing redwing.” Her cool demeanor shudders as the Falcon’s name coasts out of her lips.

You smirk. “I think he would prefer if you just called him Sam or your boyfriend. Your pick.”

She covers her face and shakes her head. “How about we talk about why you’re here on your day off? The Medbay is about 6 floors up and on the other side of campus.”

“Hey, I’m completely fine with saying I’m here for my man.” 

The light cockiness in your voice paints a mischievous grin on her lips. “Oh speaking of your boyfriend, does Barnes know how to use a pc- no a toaster- nope a smartphone?”

“Oh fuck off, is that what yall actually think?” You scoff as a people 10ft away from you shake their heads. “No fucking way, you can’t be serious!”

“Girl half of these people have never even seen him in person and they work in the same building he lives in.” Kyla, another nurse, says from the end of the table.

You roll your eyes and look at Aaliyah. “For real?” She nods her head.

“You know he wasn’t frozen for 70 years straight right? He couldn’t be a spy if he didn’t know how to blend in.” 

“How does he work a phone with the metal arm though?” She asks as someone comes up behind her.

“He has a flip phone, gotta remember he’s an old man.” Sam chuckles as she jolts out of her skin.

“You asshole! I told you to wait downstairs.” He shrugs and throws an arm around her. 

“You said you’d be back by 2:30, now I’m a punctual man baby. I waited a whole 5 minutes before tracking you down.” She buries her face in his chest to hide how he flustered her with the pet name. So cute.

“You should be going too, the old man has not stopped talking about you since we got here. I swear I’m gonna ask for a new mission partner.” You smile then hug them goodbye.

The walk from the break center/ cafeteria to the weapons testing arena and gym is a 5 minute straight shot. It also where you’d more times than not find your boyfriend. In the miniscule chance that he isn’t, you could probably find him in a conference room, with Captain Rogers outside lapping civilians or his suite. The kitchen exactly because those soldiers can eat. 

But the second those sliding doors open to his personal gun range, you see him just like you knew you would. He sat on a stool at a table with his muscular back adorned in a form fitting black henley and black jeans that emphasized his ridiculously thick thighs. His neck length brown hair is tied up in an adorable blue silk scrunchie as he dissembles his favorite rifle to clean it. You lean against the door frame just admiring the man’s beauty for a while more. He most definitely knows your behind him thanks to his enhances senses and experience as a spy, but that would not stop you from-

“Enjoying the view pretty girl?” Exactly, he gets it.

You smile and walk up to him, “absolutely.” You hum hugging his back and tracing your short almond acrylics across his abdomen.

A strong warm hand covers yours as he chuckles, a deep almost gravely laugh that electrifies every cell in your body. “I’ll be done in a couple minutes, then we can go.” 

You watch from over his shoulder the way his hands work in tandem to polish each nook and cranny of the gun. His vibraninum fingers curling around the body of it cause a shiver down your spine as you think about the nights you spend withering in his bed thanks to them. You shake those thoughts away and lay your head on his shoulder.

He brings one of your hands up and places his soft lips to your knuckles. “Fuck you smell so good. I knew you were coming before you hit the door.” He groans extending the kiss to your wrist before placing your hand back on his stomach.

“It’s your favorite, and you haven’t even seen the whole outfit yet.” 

He lets out another one of those heavenly chuckles. “Aw baby, did you get all dressed up for me?” The gun clicks shut and you feel yourself spinning around to face him.

“You like?” He takes your hand and you beam as he spins your once more. 

Since you were just going to a drive in movie, you paired a simple black top with your his favorite pair of dark gray baggy jeans that hug your waist and accentuate your ass just the way he likes. You couldn’t go wrong with some gold jewelry that shines beautifully on your brown skin. The whole look complimented itself.

Your 4c hair on the other hand didn’t want to cooperate this morning, the week old braid out was at its wits end and desperately needs all the mousse and gel washed out of it. So you did what you had to, found a giant hair tie, slicked your edges back and finger coiled a few strands in the front to give the look back some of it’s life. 

He nods biting his lip and looking you up and down. “You look just how you smell: decadent, like one of those death by chocolate cakes you love. And like you want to spend the rest of this weekend in my bed naked.” He smirks.

You hook your arms around his neck, step into the spot between his strong legs. “Well Mr. Barnes, we can’t have that. You promised me dinner and movie and the look’s not complete yet.” 

He raises a brow and dips his face to yours. “Oh yea,” he says huskily. “What could possibly be missing? You already have the body glitter.” The takes an imaginary bite out of your glazed arm. You nod at the leather jacket hanging on the hook by the door and he grins instantly.

“Go walkin’ around in that and everyone will know you’re mine.” He growls, his crystal blues deepening in hue flickering from your eyes to your lips.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I want.” You whisper against his lips tilting your head to connect them to yours.

His soft lips melted into yours perfectly, your hands pull on the hair tie locking away his silky locks and gently pull at them. He groans languidly licking into your mouth and swiftly lifting you into his lap, his hands holding firmly on your ass. Just like that it feels like the first time. Your heart beating heavily against your chest while you learn each other mouths. Tugging at his roots a bit more you nip his bottom lip and smile.

“You love playing with fire love.” 

You cheekily chuckle pulling back, “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

He squeezes your cheeks then playfully smacks one inciting a gasp from you. “A dangerous, dangerous game that could cost you your night.”

“Aw but my favorite movie is playing.” Your fake pout morphs itself into a smirk. “Or maybe I wanted to makeout with my hot Brooklyn boyfriend in public without anyone knowing.” He bites his lip as you look at him with siren eyes.

“And people wonder why I can’t stop talking about you, my girl is a damn minx. Fuck it, lets go.” He sighs as you jump off his lap and grab his leather jacket.

While he’s securely putting away his rifle, you look over at him and smirk putting on the jacket. “Thanks daddy.”

His eyes go wide as you walk out the door giggling.

Gotta love date night.

♥*♡∞:｡.｡

AN: I was missing the character that brought me back to my passion, so this was really for me but yall can enjoy it too xox

as always likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated

[vicsnook]

Good Luck, Babe! | Jake Seresin x Reader

word count: 6,560

warnings: SMUT, MINORS DNI, 18+, Unprotected PinV

notes: Hey friends! I know I've kind of dropped off the face of the Earth since the new year. I've had massive writer's block due to some personal stuff but I think I am finally out of the funk. Please forgive me for any errors, I wrote this on and off the past few months so I hope it doesn't come off terrible. I plan to make this a 2 possible 3 parter so leave some feedback and let me know if you want more. Hope you like it & please don't forget to like and reblog! 🫶🏼

I wasn’t sure what to expect when I agreed to come on a date to the famous Hard Deck but thankfully I’m not disappointed yet. The jukebox is playing old country songs and some couples are dancing on the makeshift dance floor, "this is definitely my kind of place," I think. 

I approach the bar and look for my date Mickey, who waves me over from a corner booth. He kisses my cheek and slides his arm around me as we slide into the cozy booth. “So m’lady what can I get you to drink?” he asks, his eyes scanning my face but before I can answer a blonde man slides into the seat across from us. 

Mickey’s face turns red immediately as the blonde grabs his beer and takes a swig. “My apologies, am I interrupting anything, Fanboy?” asks the blonde with a southern drawl, flashing me what I could only describe as a million-dollar smile. “Yes, Hangman, so I'd appreciate it if you could make yourself scarce,” growls Mickey, beginning to stand up and holding his hand out for me to follow. 

“And leave this lovely lady alone with you? Not a chance,” responds the blonde, now standing in front of Mickey and in our way. “This lovely lady would also like you to make yourself scarce and stop bothering her date,” I said to the blonde, who just like Mickey turned to me with a look of shock. 

Before “Hangman” could respond, I grabbed hold of Mickey’s hand and led us out the side door and down the ramp onto the beach. When we came to a halt, Mickey was still looking at me slack-jawed. “That was awesome! No one’s ever put Hangman in his place,” he raves, as I giggle in amusement. “Yeah, well he sure seemed like he needed it. Anywho, I don’t take it, he's a friend?” I ask. He shook his head and then explained all about how Hangman was just his insufferable coworker who thought that because he had the only confirmed air kill of this generation he was above anyone. 

“And that’s the story of Hangman, anyway, fancy getting some ice cream mademoiselle?” asked Mickey while extending his arm for me to hold. “Of course,” I reply and chuckle as we make our way to the ice cream parlor by the boardwalk.

The rest of the afternoon went by without a hitch as I learned more about my date whose call sign was “Fanboy” due to his adorable obsession with Star Trek. That night I didn’t waste any time texting him that I had a great time and looked forward to seeing him again.

Maybe my mom was right when she suggested I needed to get back to the dating scene. As I lay there waiting on sleep to come, an image of Hangman flashes through my head and I can't help the feeling in my stomach. Shaking my head, I bury it deep down with memories from my date with Mickey.

I won't let anything ruin my happiness at this moment. That was until I woke up this morning and saw that my blue text had turned green and was unanswered.

Just my absolute luck to get blocked after what I thought was a good first date.

-

I went on with the rest of the week trying to feel unbothered about being blocked but it still crept into my mind every once in while. And that’s how I ended up parked in front of the Hard Deck on what seems like a very busy night.

I sigh and put the car in reverse, this is pathetic. But before I go any further, a blonde Ken doll look-alike catches my eye and I realize it’s Hangman walking in, which I hope means Mickey is probably inside. 

Putting the car back in park, I take one last look in the rearview mirror and reapply my red lipstick. Time to show that WSO what he missed out on.

I’m immediately surrounded by a sea of aviators in their dress whites when I step inside, and a couple of them shoot me hungry looks. I take a deep breath and plunge through the crowd to make my way toward the back where I think catch sight of Mickey and his friends but I soon collide with a very very hard chest before I can reach him.

“So we meet again, lovely lady?” I hear as I tilt my head up and make eye contact with the owner of the hard chest whose hands are holding my waist steadying me. And wouldn't you know it, it’s none other than Hangman who is once again sporting that blinding smile. Up close I can see how green his eyes are and good lord all I can think is how this man is way too damn perfect.

I clear my throat and back away as his hands fall off my waist but I don’t get very far because his hand firmly grasps mine and I’m spun back into his chest once again. “What the hell are you-” I try to ask but my words die when I see the hungry look in his eye. “Not so chatty now, are you?” He smirks at me and I feel my cheeks burn. “What do you want?” I manage to croak, feeling now even more embarrassed to have come here tonight.

“Well for starters, I want to lead you out the door to my truck, then I want take you somewhere nice to dinner, and what I want most is to have those pretty red lips of yours around my cock by the end of the night, darlin’" He whispers in my ear, his breath on my neck making my head spin.

Usually, I would slap any man who spoke to me that way but my brain was currently short-circuiting tonight so I just nodded and followed him out the door into the parking lot to take part in what will probably be a very big mistake tomorrow.

His hand sits on my lower back as he leads me to his truck that is conveniently parked at the very end of the parking lot and before I can convince myself to back out of this we have reached the passenger door. He opens the door for me and helps me into the seat before rounding the truck and getting in too. His scent fills my nostrils, sage and sandalwood. 

“I’m not sure I ever properly introduced myself, my name’s Jake Seresin.” He tells me as he pulls into the highway and I pull myself together long enough to mutter mine back. I take him in as he drives and notice the scar above his eyebrow and how rosy his lips look, and I can’t help but think of how good they would feel on mine.

I doubt any of my friends would be supportive of me throwing caution to the wind but something about Jake makes saying no, impossible. A spark goes through me when his hand comes to rest on my thigh just below the hem of my dress, and I sure hope I haven’t soaked the seat.

-

We pull up to a restaurant downtown that I only ever heard of because of because of it being expensive but before I can protest he is getting out of the truck and coming to open my door. “Jake, this is too much. I -” his fingers come to rest on my lips effectively shushing my protests. “Baby, I’m going to lavish you tonight and I mean that in more ways than one.” 

His eyes are locked into mine as I nod. No man has ever managed to render me speechless, much less make me so agreeable but I guess that changes tonight.

The food and wine are exquisite and the conversation flows smoothly between us and I can’t help but want more of this man. My once disdain for him now vanished.

He tells me of growing up in Texas on his family’s ranch and of his rodeo days that ended too quickly when his father passed. He talks of how he joined the Navy to be able to support his family. I notice his eyes darken as he talks of missing home and how lonely his job can be because he acts like an asshole to keep people away, and I feel myself reaching for his hand to comfort him. He smiles gratefully, then casually turns the conversation back to me.

So I tell him of my sister, Meredith, who died a few years back because of a drunk driver which led me to pursue a career in law seeing as the man who killed her is free and she didn’t get justice. He squeezes my hand in comfort and I tell him that I moved to Miramar to get away from my hometown because everything reminds me of Mer and I wanted a fresh start and how I’ve been here a year now and hardly know anyone because I’ve thrown myself into my work instead of dealing with my grief.

I shudder when I’m done when I realize I’ve bared my soul to someone who I hardly know but I don’t overthink for long because Jake’s hand reaches out and caresses my face. He settles the bill and ignores my pleas to let me pay for at least half and once we’re back in the truck I realize that it’s nearly midnight and he asks for directions back to my place which I give without a second thought.

-

He follows me in and I curse at myself when I see the mess of paperwork on the living room table. “Sorry, I don’t usually have guests over,” I tell him, and he shrugs it off and helps me straighten the papers up. We settle in the small couch and I can feel the heat radiating off his body and the nerves finally kick in. “Um, can I get you something to drink?” I ask, looking over at the TV that is not even on. “No, thank you, Angel. Look, I know what I said at the bar but we don't have to do anything you don't want to do.” He assures me, my eyes finally making contact with his. But I don’t want him to go and I feel an urgent need to feel his skin against mine so I do the only thing I can think of and kiss him.

He kisses me slowly and carefully like I might pull away and dismiss him any second so I move closer to him and then climb onto his lap. He groans as I straddle him and I take the chance to slip my tongue into his mouth, savoring the taste of him. His fingers dip into my waist as I bite his lip and pull back. His eyes are blown with lust and I know then there is no going back.

His mouth kisses along my jaw and down to my neck and I moan loudly as he finds that spot just below my ear that drives me crazy. “Are you sure about this?” He asks, leaving kisses just above the neckline of my dress. “Yes, I need you, Jake, please,” I beg as he slides the straps of my dress down and his mouth trails down kisses, latching onto my perky nippe.

I arch my back and the dress pools at my hips, the cold air on my skin making me shiver for a moment until his warm chest presses against mine and I realize he’s ditched his shirt. I run my hands through his chiseled chest and think to myself that this is the kind of body that Greek statues are made of.

“Where’s your room?” he asks, between kisses and I feel another current surge through me. “At the end of the hall,” I manage to croak and he moves forward so I can wrap my legs around him and then he leads us to my room. The very short hallway feels infinite as he holds me against the wall and his hands run all over my body and I’m now shaking with desire.

“Jake, please,” I beg and I feel him grin against my neck and I blush in the dark as he nibbles on my neck leaving what I know tomorrow will be a very noticeable hickey. He finally takes us into my room and places me on the bed and as he towers over me it sinks in what I’m about to do and a shiver of excitement runs through me.

He pulls down the rest of my dress and I am left in my very small thong, he places his hand over my core and I quiver against it. “Eager aren’t we?” He whispers as he cups the thin fabric of my thong and slowly slides it down, pressing kisses onto my leg as he finally gets it off and stuffs it into his back pocket.

I raise an eyebrow at him in response, but he ignores it as he slides off the bed and pulls me to the edge of the bed where he kneels on the floor. I blush as I feel his warm breath on my thigh as he kisses his way to my core pausing just before reaching it, our eyes lock and I see that he is looking for reassurance. I nod, not trusting my words and within seconds he is eating me out like he is starving and my pussy is a full-course meal.

I moan his name loudly and tug at his hair but he doesn’t slow down and I feel myself getting close when he eases a finger in and he must sense that I’m close to reaching an orgasm because he pulls my thighs even further apart and adds another finger. My moans turn to whimpers as he keeps edging me. I shake against him while he uses his fingers to coax me through my orgasm.  “Good girl,” he mumbles as he slowly raises himself and placing a kiss on my lips and I want more.

“Fuck me, Jake,” I whimper as he settles beside me in the bed but I get a response that I was not expecting. “Not yet angel,” he whispers as he caresses my arm that fills with goosebumps as he gets further up and he turns my head to look at him. His green eyes are staring into mine so deeply I think he can read my needy thoughts. I run my hand down his chest and stop at his belt buckle, his eyes following my every move, and I decide to give him what he asked for at the beginning of the night.

Pulling him off the bed with me I take notice of my shaky legs but still, I kneel in front of him and undo his belt. I can feel his eyes on me as I ease his pants down and palm him through his boxers. A groan escapes him as I slide his cock free of the boxers and suck on his swollen tip. “Fuck,” he moans as I take him in my mouth and I feel myself getting wetter as he starts to fuck my face.

But he’s careful yet again so I grab onto his hips and increase the pace, eliciting various groans from him and when I meet his eyes he slowly stills me. “I want to come inside you,” he says, his voice husky with lust. His arms reach to pull me up and I’m back on the bed before I can protest.

“I’m not going to be as slow and careful, honey. I’m going to fuck you so hard that you can’t walk tomorrow, so stop me now if that’s not what you want,” he whispers in my ear and I shiver with excitement. I reply by pulling him down to me and kissing him as hard as I possibly can. Without warning he’s stretching me open, and before I can even catch a breath, he’s thrusting hard into me again.

His fingers are digging into my waist as I scream in pleasure, “Taking me so good, baby,” he groans while leaving more hickeys on my neck. He continues to thrust hard and fast and I’m shaking with pleasure.

My moans get louder as his finger finds my clit and I worry the neighbors will call the cops. But he seems unfazed as he continues to fuck me through it. I whimper loudly, my legs sliding off his sides as I reach my orgasm. “I’m almost there, honey,” he whispers in my ear but I barely acknowledge him, still lost in my high.

He fills me with his sweet release as I come down from my own. His green eyes boring into mine as he slowly pulls out and I feel his cum slipping out of me. “Look at you, baby. I made a mess out of you,” he grins, laying at my side and pulling me to him.

I lay my head on his chest as exhaustion takes over and any thought of getting myself sorted out flies out the window. He kisses my hairline and the last thing I hear is him saying “good girl” as sleep envelops me in his arms.

-

I wake up to my body aching as memories from last night flood back in and I smile, turning over, only to find the bed empty. Only my dress is in the corner of my bedroom floor, no sign of Jake or my thong. I curse to myself as I get up and feel even more sore if that’s even possible. He sure meant that he would fuck me til I couldn't walk.

The apartment is deadly quiet and I head to the bathroom which I find empty as well. Pulling on my robe, I check the living room which to no one’s surprise is also empty, and as I look out the window, I notice Jake’s truck is gone and then it hits me that my car is still parked at the Hard Deck.

Fuck me.

I check around the rest of the apartment and find no note anywhere. Disappointment creeps in as I decide to finally go shower and get him off my skin. When I catch sight of myself in the bathroom mirror, I see the damage he left on my neck and chest is extensive. Angry reddish marks stare back at me and I doubt all the concealer in the world can help cover what he did.

The next few weeks are a blur as I throw myself into my work and vow to never return to the Hard Deck. Long nights working keep me occupied so much so that I don’t realize my period is late for a week, and that’s when it dawns on me that we didnt use protection and of course, I hadn’t been on the pill.

The pharmacy is crowded as I buy a pregnancy test, and I glare at the cashier who very loudly yells “Good luck!” as I walk out. Traffic is awful too on the way home and I feel myself getting more anxious by the second.

I practically run to the bathroom as soon as I’m home and finally pee on the stupid stick. 5 minutes feel like an eternity when your future rests on the other side. The timer goes off and as I flip the test over, I grab hold of the vanity to steady myself as I stare back at the two pink lines that signify my worst fear.

I’m pregnant.

click here for part 2!

taglist: @harperdoodle , @weirdothatwritess , @rosiahills22 (y’all let me know if you dont want me to tag anymore)

[nicoline1998enilocin]

Eyes on me

Pairing | Husband!Robert Downey Jr x Wife!Female!Reader

Word count | 1.2K

Summary | Robert comes home from an extended filming period, and you're desperate to have him fill you up again. He can barely make it inside before you're all over him, but it's the best 'welcome home' he could have dreamed of.

Warning(s) | This is your official trigger warning. Do not proceed if any of these topics upset you. RPF, established relationship (husband and wife), age gap (Robert: mid to late 40s, Reader: is early to mid-30s), porn without plot, smut (daddy kink, dirty talk, oral (M receiving), masturbation (F receiving), hair pulling, throat fucking, cum swallowing).

A/n | I want to give a big (😉) thanks to @ccbsrmsf1 for drooling over his body with me because he's an absolute Greek God of a man! I hope you enjoy what I did with this brainchild of mine because I sure as hell know it was fun to write, hehe 🖤

Likes, comments and reblogs will be very much appreciated 💚

Divider is made by @firefly-graphics | 18+ banner is made by yours truly

Main Masterlist | Robert Downey Jr. Masterlist

Robert just got home from an extended filming period, and you've rarely been more desperate for him than you are now. As soon as he walks in the door, you're greeting him with a brand new set of dark green lingerie you bought just for this occasion.

Before he can even get so much as a ''welcome home!'' out of his mouth, you've pushed him against the door; your mouth crashed onto him in a dominating, passionate kiss. The groan vibrating in his chest lets you know how good he feels, and you're glad you decided to surprise him like this.

Your kiss moved from his pink, plump lips to the scruff on his jaw and down his neck to the sensitive spot below his ear. The grunt tumbling off his lips has you smiling into your kiss, and you can't help but let your hands wander to push the jacket off his back, followed by opening the buttons of his shirt.

''Fuck, feels so good, Gorgeous,'' he says with a raw edge to his voice, and it makes the arousal in your panties only grow more. When his shirt is on the floor, you kiss further down his body, only stopping to tug, roll, and nibble on his ever-so-sensitive nipples.

His hands find their way into your hair as he pulls you up for another deep, passionate kiss that has the butterflies in your stomach swirling like never before.

''Let me make you feel good, Daddy,'' you whisper into his ear after you pull away again, and the goosebumps in his neck tell you just how badly he wants it. His cock is already uncomfortably hard in his tight jeans, and when you palm him through them, he lets his head fall back against the door.

Robert's jaw is slightly slack, every hot breath and moan freely leaving his throat. You sink to your knees slowly, your lips ghosting over his abs and placing hot, open-mouthed kisses now and again. Your long, slender fingers have reached the waistband of his jeans, and they pop open the button effortlessly.

After his zipper, you pull his pants down in a single, smooth motion until it's bunched on the floor, and when you realize he's not wearing any underwear, you moan at the sight.

His dick was leaning forward a little from the weight and curved deliciously to the left with a bead or pre-cum leaking from the tip.

''Is this just for me, Daddy?'' you say as you look up at him with blown pupils, the color of your eyes not visible anymore from pure arousal, and you're eyes look a little glossed over, too.

''Absolutely, Gorgeous. Why don't you make Daddy feel good by sucking on it a little?'' he says with a sly smirk, and you happily listen to what he wants.

Your hands slide over his thighs, and you revel in the feeling of the dark hairs adorning them, up to the dips of his thighs, so close to where he needs you, yet not close enough.

''Gorgeous, don't be a fucking tease,'' he growls at you, and after giving him a crooked smile, you lean forward and make tiny kitten licks over his tip, his head falling back against the door again with a loud thud.

Your lips wrap around his tip, and you suckle ever so slightly, and it makes Robert's back arch away from the door, pushing himself deeper into your mouth, and you take the opportunity to grab two handfuls of his perfectly round ass.

At first, you massage them softly while slowly working more of his dick into your mouth because it's always a stretch - one you'll happily get accustomed to every single time, in every single hole he feels like using that day.

''Fuck, that's it, Gorgeous; that throat is nice and tight for me, can't wait to fuck it and shoot my cum deep into it. Make you swallow it all like a cumslut,'' he says, and the moan that you let out makes Robert push into you again, hitting your gag reflex this time.

''C'mon, relax for Daddy; I know you want to be my good girl,'' he says, and you pull back, needing to ask him something.

''M-May I touch myself, Daddy? 'M so wet,'' you say with an innocent look. Robert strokes your cheek softly with his thumb, and you lean into his touch as you close your eyes. These sweet moments are the ones you love so much, making the act so much more intimate.

''Yes, you may, Gorgeous, but I always want your eyes on me. Want to see how you fall apart on those fingers while you suck my cock like the cockslut you know you are for Daddy,'' he says, and you nod in agreement.

He grabs hold of his dick, and he taps your tongue a few times as you stick it out, letting a few more beads of pre-cum fall onto your tongue as you wrap your mouth around him again.

Your fingers slide into your panties as you look up at him like he told you to do. There's nothing you ever wanted more than being his good girl, and you're willing to do everything to earn that praise from him.

His fingers weave into your hair, and he gets a tight grip, ensuring he can use you just how he wants. You know that if it's too much, you can always tap his thigh twice, and in the past, you've had to a couple of times to which he listened immediately. Because of that, you can let go as you trust him fully.

With slow, deliberate movements, he thrusts into your throat, and you relax it as much as you can until he slides past and deep into your throat as you take all of him, and your nose is pressed against his pubic bone.

Your fingers rub through your soaking folds as you try to get the edge off, but you're careful not to do too much since you're already on the edge of an orgasm.

Robert pulls back and thrusts a few more times to ensure he's good to go, and when you let out an impatient moan around him, he tightens the grip on your hair without warning, and he starts fucking your throat in earnest, chasing his high right now.

''Oh, fuck. Doing so well for Daddy, you cumming on those fingers yet, Gorgeous? That's it, let go for Daddy,'' he says, and you can't help it as you're shaking and trembling as your fingers find your clit and work you through a mind-bending orgasm right now.

''Shit, gonna fucking cum for you, Gorgeous, swallow it!'' he says, and with a few more sloppy thrusts, he shoots his cum deep into your throat, making you swallow it all while he stares deep into your eyes as if he's staring into your soul.

He pulls out, and you stick out your tongue to show him you swallowed it all before he crouches down and pulls you into a passionate kiss, which is all clashing teeth and tongue, but it is nothing short of perfect.

When he pulls away, you look at him with those glossy eyes he loves so much, and you croak out three simple words.

''Welcome home, Daddy.''

[katatonicimpression]

⚔️⚔️⚔️!!! (For the sambucky ask game 😃)

Sambucky Prompt Game

This is also for @sammysdewysensitiveeyes Thank you both for the asks! This is inspired by Sam on the bridge in TWS... if you couldn't tell

“What about Captain America? We still have him restrained.”

The question was barely audible through the crackling walkie talkie, and Bucky could only just hear it from this far away. The reply was clear as day though, even from a distance.

“Kill him.”

No. Bucky sprang into action.

He leapt over the railing and dropped down onto the platform below, directly in front of the man who had given the order.

“Wh-”

Bucky grabbed him with his left arm, and threw him off the edge of the platform. He didn’t bother to see how he landed, but he heard the impact and it didn’t sound good.

He flung his right arm out behind him, sending the knife from up his sleeve flying at a henchman.

Someone was shooting at him, so he ran, left hand covering the back of his head. He charged up the stairs, sliding another blade out from his boot. 

It ended up in some guy’s kidney. Not that bad, you can live with one kidney.

He pulled the semi-automatic from his hip, and shot the two goons flanking the door to the rest of the building. Really, he was trying to be a different guy now, a less violent guy. But these freaks had kidnapped his boyfriend so if they ended up a little gutshot, that was on them.

He'd got a chance to look at the blueprints of this building before he'd arrived, and he knew that Sam was being held in a room right at the back. It was another two hundred metres of running, mostly stairs. Shouldn't take him more than half a minute, forty-five seconds if he was slow. But then there would be more guards.

He turned the corner, and there was Sam.

Sam, in the jeans and t-shirt that he'd been wearing when he'd been captured. He was at the other end of the corridor, and heading towards him. He had a knife in his hand, presumably used to free himself and fight his way out.

"Duck!" He shouted, and Bucky obeyed, instinct taking over. He dropped low and turned, firing down the corridor to deter them, as Sam's knife flew over his head and hit the goon behind him.

He misjudged something though, because suddenly the door next to them burst open, and another guy sprang out towards them.

Before Bucky even had time to panic, Sam had dealt with it. He had pulled another knife out from somewhere near his ankle and ran it into the guy's side, and he crumpled to the floor.

Bucky checked the door. Just a supply closet, no one else inside.

However many of these goons were left, they seemed to have fallen back for now. Bucky stopped to reload, and to look at Sam. To gawk, maybe.

He knew Sam was good at this. Obviously he knew that, but it was something else seeing it in action.

“Oh, hey,” Sam said casually. “You came to get me, that’s so sweet.”

“I… Uh-”

The henchman on the floor struggled to turn over, hand pressed onto his side.

“You just stabbed me!” He yelled in shock.

Sam faced him where he fell and cocked his head.

“Uh huh.”

“That’s not a very Captain America thing for you to do, geez!” 

“Oh, shut up. You’ll be fine,” Sam retorted. “Just keep pressure on it.”

He turned back to Bucky and gestured at the gun he was holding.

“You got another one of those?” 

He didn’t wait for a reply, he just reached into Bucky’s holster and took the second gun from where it had been resting against Bucky’s ribcage. 

And there was definitely something wrong with Bucky because for some reason even that tiny second of contact made his breath catch.

“You alright?”

“Ungh,” Bucky managed.

“What? What is it?”

The look on his face made it clear that he had absolutely no idea what he was doing to Bucky. He was just standing there, brown eyes wide, breathing a little heavy, a slight shimmer of sweat on his face… his arms. Oh, Jesus his arms. 

Get yourself together Barnes.

“Come on,” he said. “I’m taking you home.”

“Not that I don’t appreciate it, but I was managing fine.”

“No.” Bucky reached for Sam’s hand and pulled him towards him, ignoring the henchman who was still writhing on the floor next to them. “I’m taking you home, sweetheart.”

“Hnngh.”

[childotkw]

What will Bellatrix and Hadrians relationship be like? If she survives into the sequel that is. I imagine there could be some good scenes between the too… a lot of jealousy I’d imagine. Snippet?

I’d say there would always be jealousy from Bellatrix towards Hadrian 😂 even long after she accepts that he’s not going anywhere and that Voldemort’s interest isn’t going to waver. It’s not even that she’s romantically interested in Voldemort in CS - it’s more like a favoured child feeling overlooked because their parent has a new beau.

————————

The door opened and Hadrian was helpless to stop the glance over his shoulder - stupid, really, to take his eyes off of Tom for any length of time - but he quickly decided the woman who had entered was not one he trusted at his back.

Bellatrix Lestrange, coy smile and vicious eyes, caught his gaze mockingly. She swept into an over-acted bow, her chest damn near spilling out of her dress from how low she dropped, and her simpering my Lord had Hadrian sneering in reflexive disgust.

“Ah, Bella, thank you for coming,” Tom said, stepping around Hadrian to stand beside him. A possessive hand cupped his shoulder, fingers squeezing lightly as if to soothe away the rigid anger winding its way through Hadrian’s form.

“You call and I answer, my Lord,” Bellatrix breathed, staring up at the man adoringly. Hadrian shifted, uncomfortable and hating the spark of irritation in his gut at the blatant worship on the woman’s face.

“Your diligence is appreciated,” Tom offered with a charming smile. “Now, onto business. I asked you here for a reason -”

And Hadrian knew where this was going. He moved sharply out of Tom’s hold, casting accusing eyes at him. “Absolutely not.”

“Now now Hadrian,” Tom said, looping an arm around his waist and tugging him back into place. “Listen to the full proposition before rejecting it.”

Hadrian’s lips pulled into a snarl. “I will not have anyone, let alone her, following me around for days on end. I don’t require a bodyguard. You of all people should know that.”

Tom’s smile pinched, as it always did at the reminder of their fight so long ago. Hadrian’s arms loosened from where he had crossed them over his chest, a silent apology bleeding into his eyes.

His frustration at the situation was not worth reopening old wounds.

“Your safety is important to me,” Tom said, upfront and confident even when admitting what he considered a weakness. The parseltongue, and the implications behind his use of it, had Hadrian’s stomach swooping. “I know you are powerful, but it would ease my mind if you also had my very best at hand should something happen.”

Hadrian inhaled, looking up at his partner then sliding his gaze over to the woman in question. Bellatrix was watching them with fascination, her attention dipping down to study how closely Tom held him. Those black eyes met his once more, swimming with condescending amusement and an unhealthy amount of intrigue. He had always disliked Bellatrix, ever since their first meeting, but he knew she had earned her reputation and that if Tom ordered it of her, she would guard Hadrian to the very best of her capabilities.

He would be untouchable.

Hadrian looked back at Tom, pettily responding in the same language and enjoying the intake of breath from their audience. “Fine, but I reserve the right to use her as a human shield.”

Tom’s grin was - dare he say it? - smitten. “I would be disappointed if you did not, darling.”

The deliberate switch to English for the endearment made Hadrian roll his eyes, if only to distract from the faint flush on his cheeks.

[ishipallthings]

Cap-IM Rec Week 2023 (Mon)

Absolute Faves Monday, July 17 for @cap-ironman Rec Week!

Very excited for Rec Week, hope you guys have fun too!

Today I'm reccing some of my favorite fics I've read or re-read this year :)

Remember to show some love for your hard-working creators!

Paint the Town Blue by ohjustpeachy @omg-just-peachy

Ten years since he’d seen or spoken to Tony Stark, ten years since they’d broken up to go away to school. And now this email. It could be his only chance to see Tony again.

with a kiss by svgurl410

When Steve is put under a curse, Tony tries his best to find his true love to save him.

tell me why by xWinterDreamsx @xwinterdreams-blog

Telling Steve how much he loves him doesn't go in any way Tony expects.

Never Worlds Apart by KandiSheek @kandisheek

It's been six years since he's seen Tony when he walks into his favorite diner and sees him sitting in their old booth, as if nothing ever happened. Steve can't believe the nerve of Tony to just show up out of the blue after the way he ended things. Turns out Tony has a reason for wanting to make amends. And Steve doesn't appreciate only finding out about it after Tony has already almost died.

Only Paintings in the Building by BladeoftheNebula @bladeofthenebula27, ironycap (art) Neverever @captainneverever (art)

Steve causes himself a whole heap of trouble when he starts to paint pictures of Tony.

Every Now and Then I Fall Apart by Sineala @sineala (616)

When Tony gets hit by a truth spell, the consequences aren't what anyone expected. They're sure not what Tony expected. He wishes he could stop telling his teammates about all the medical problems he tries to hide. As long as he doesn't open his mouth and reveal his secret feelings for Steve, or all his secret inadequacies as a human being, though, everything's going to be fine. And Tony's good at keeping secrets... or so he thinks. But maybe Steve knows him better than he knows himself. And just because Tony believes something, that doesn't make it the truth.

An Avengers Powerpoint Party by gogglor @gogglor

The Avengers threw a Powerpoint Party. These are their slides.

A Wish Your Heart Makes by Carsonian @carsonian

The absolute last thing Steve's expecting is Tony Stark, and so it's fairly in character for the man to be standing on the other side of the door. "Hi." Tony looks impatient, greeting barely out before he's walking past Steve and into the apartment. 

i was put together wrong by suchmadnesss @suchmadnesss

Even in his anger, in his misjudgment, or even in the barest glimpses of inadvertent cruelty, everything Tony did was with passion. No matter what, he was always graceful, grandiose, effusive. Incandescent. Tony grows in front of the cameras and keeps a world of expectations balanced on the tightrope of his shoulders, but nothing ever seems to be enough. The hubris is a fallacy and the smirk Steve had always known to be a front isn’t whimsy, as he’d expected; instead, it’s bred. As he follows a couple of his steps, Steve feels as Tony does, which is to say: intensely. Every happiness is a marvel, every pain is acute. The higher they fly, the harder they fall. (In which the stones beckon Steve into a glimpse of Tony's past, and it proves to be his unraveling.)

you’ve got to close your eyes and see by Thahire @thahiree

Morgan manages to bring Tony back eleven years after Thanos’ defeat, long after everyone’s learned to live without him. Everyone’s overjoyed once they get over their shock, but Tony finds it hard to adjust, now that Pepper’s moved on and Morgan’s not a little kid anymore. Somehow, the one constant is Steve.

Ship to Shore by msermesth @msermesth

The Avengers beat Thanos. Everyone is safe. (If you don’t count those five days they thought Natasha was dead.) All that’s left is to return the stones, a feat that Tony is sure will end his new friends-with-benefits relationship with Steve.

nobody saves me, baby (the way you do) by Capstiddies, meidui

“You’re a firefighter.” “You’re—half naked.” - Steve fights fires and rescues kittens for a living these days because of course he does; of course that man doesn’t know how to properly retire. So now Steve has his firefighting career and Tony has a new complication in his long, winding relationship with Steve after parting ways without so much as a handshake.

Hope you guys enjoy the recs, and stay tuned for more! Please mind the tags before reading. Check out my tag for previous years’ rec lists :)

[ryuichirou]

first of all, i love your works, i recently followed you for your azuide artwork then i saw the other ones, they're all gorgeous but i have a question about your sultan au. does jamil have any romantic feelings for kalim?

+

Anonymous asked:

Sultan AU Jamil is so good. Like, this might be strange but I think he’s hilarious. You just know his “Kalim you Fool!” Is going to bite him in the butt. The man is probably already sort of in love with Kalim, and he’s just DEEP in denial. the denial is so deep he’d justify to himself sleeping with Kalim because it keeps Kalim’s attention on him and thus gives him access to the power & influence of the Asim.

so tell me, what’s it gonna take for Jamil to actual acknowledge those feelings as being genuine & mutual between him and Kalim? Because Sultan Kalim is just ready to marry Jamil already.

Anonymous asked:

Can you tell me more about your Sultan AU. The last comic with Kalim and Jamil got me intrigued and I love how you draw Jamil’s evil expression

selenacrest asked:

How exactly is the story of JamiKali in Sultan AU? Because after what I saw in the third comic I didn't understand anything

Anonymous asked:

Evil Royal Vizier Jamil! :) Any info of why he is the way he is?

Anonymous asked:

In the Sultan AU it looks like Jamil is sliding down the villain slope. I hope he uses Kalim’s feelings to manipulate him 😈😈😈😈

Anonymous asked:

Kalim will be horrified to learn he was used by Jamil in the sultan au.

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

Thank you so much for giving this comic and this AU in general so much love! I am super happy we finally posted it and that you liked it and have so many questions about it + the AU itself.  I really really enjoyed drawing this side of Jamil, because he is a scheming snake, and we should appreciate and love him for it lol

When it comes to this AU, there isn’t actually much lore to talk about: it’s pretty much a continuation of their canon story (based on how we see it, of course). So, it’s the canon timeline but ~5 years in the future.

I’ve mentioned it in several replies but I’ll say it again: I have a feeling these two are going to have a difficult relationship for their entire lives, because, even after the events of ch4, all of Jamil’s grudges towards Kalim are still intact. There has been some changes in the way they interact, plus Kalim learned about Jamil’s struggles and true feelings about him, but these changes aren’t really enough to change anything, especially considering how easy it is for people to unintentionally get right back to status quo. And this is exactly what would happen to these two.

So, Kalim is the head of his family now, and Jamil is his official adviser, not some servant. Kalim definitely sees them as equals, and tries his best to be a good ruler/good boss, but still relies on Jamil quite a lot. And for Jamil, he feels like he does everything he’s used to + even more now. So even though he is much more powerful now than he used to be, this feeling of him being squeezed inside of Kalim’s fist is stronger than ever.

But with Kalim being in love with him? It’s the ultimate power, something that can never be taken from him, as long as this idiot is infatuated. So he’ll definitely use this to his advantage, amused by how easy it is to manipulate Kalim and how easy he is to fool: one gentle gesture, one soft smile, and Kalim is absolutely helpless. And if Jamil takes things further…

Now, does Jamil have romantic feelings toward Kalim? Well, one thing about Jamil is, like one of the Anons mentioned, karma always bites him in the ass. He is kind of a loser frankly lol, whenever he tries to outsmart Kalim, he succeeds, but then something happens and makes his life miserable. So this whole thing is definitely going to backfire too.

Jamil has always had fondness for Kalim, but every warm feeling gets cruelly suppressed. But now that this “door” of the romantic closeness and intimacy with Kalim is open, Jamil can expect his biggest karma-ass-bite yet. What a fun surprise it’s going to be lol

Oh, and don’t worry about Kalim’s feelings. We all know how forgiving he could be lol

[nyxocity]

Baby Let Me Bang Your Tail Pipe - Dean/Impala/Dom Toretto (explicit)

After the most inexplicable three hours of his life, Dean stands in Dominic Toretto’s garage, which is empty except for the Impala, because Dom’s car is in about fifty billion pieces at the bottom of the river in downtown.

“She was eighty percent badass, twenty percent sweetheart,” Dom had said, somber when Dean had extended his condolences.

Dean had only met Dom three hours and twenty eight explosions ago, but he likes him a lot already.

“Listen,” Dean says, appreciative, “if you hadn’t driven through those three buildings and killed ninety-seven people, me and Sam would be dead right now. I feel like I at least owe you a beer.”

Dean pulls a brown bottle of Margiekugel beer out of the cooler in the backseat of the Impala and hands it to Dom. The second it touches Dom’s hand, it turns into a bottle of Corona.

Dom is beginning to walk around the Impala, looking at the car with undisguised appreciation in his eyes. “Nineteen-sixty-seven Chevy Impala, one of only seven thousand produced, 327 V-8 Turbo-Fire 275 horsepower, dual exhaust pipes, slammed down on a built Hotchkiss performance suspension.”

Dean stares at him in surprise. “Dude. I haven’t even popped her hood yet.”

Dom shakes his head. “Some things you just know. Not built to race, but she purred like a lion earlier,” Dom goes on, his voice low and husky. His dark eyes rake over the Impala’s polished lines and curves, admiration and dark dirty lust Dean recognizes all to well shining in them. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is.” Dean slides a hand along the shiny hood with a proud smile. “Listen. I owe you for what you did today, but I don’t let just anyone put their hands on my girl.”

“You know what happened today?”

“I know you drove through three buildings made out of glass and steel, crashed into a semi, flew through a windshield and landed on the hood of another car before grabbing a rope hanging from a nearby crane and swinging over the edge of a bridge, dropping two miles straight down into a river just before everything exploded for absolutely no reason—including the bridge.”

Dom seems unimpressed by Dean’s recount of everything that had happened on the bridge, and Dean thinks that must be a regular Tuesday for this guy.

“And I saved your lives,” Dom says.

“Yeah.” Dean nods. “I still don’t get how landing on the hood of a car flying at a hundred and thirty miles an hour cushions your impact.”

“Skill.” Dom smirks.

Dean thinks for a moment. “I still don’t get how you’re alive. I’ve died seven times doing way less than that.” He frowns. “A hundred and seven times if you count that one Tuesday.”

Dom takes a drink from his Corona and walks towards him, his eyes squinted nearly shut as he focuses on Dean. “You don’t understand. What I did—what we went through today—that makes us family now.”

“Family, huh?” Dean eyes Dom up and down. “That might make this vibe a little weird.”

Dom huffs out a short, rough laugh. “I don’t think so. I’ve seen how you look at your brother.”

Dean licks his lips, eyefucking Dom harder. “Well in that case, maybe we can—”

“Just the car, Dean.” Sam’s voice is muffled, coming from outside the garage door.

“How can he hear me?” Dean whispers.

Dom nods in the direction of the Impala. “What do you think?”

And well, the guy had defied every law of physics known to man, beast and amoebas and blown up his car and everything else in a fifty mile radius—somehow—to save their lives. Dean supposes the least he can do is share his baby to make up for the loss of Dom’s. He’d like to have Sam join and all four of them could have a good time, but Sam seems to want to sit this one out.

“Do you want to see her, first?” Dean asks.

They look under her hood, Dom touching her parts reverently with gentle fingers, and Dean watches on with approval as Dom compliments her engine. They do a tour of her gorgeously lined, sleek body, and finally Dom rounds the Impala and kneels down by the back bumper.

“Look at the chrome on these tail pipes.” He gives a low whistle of appreciation.

“I take good care of her. I’m a gentleman,” Dean proclaims, walking around to stand next to him. The tailpipes gleam like a diamond in the garage light, spotless and shined to perfection. The left one is his favorite, and he finds his eyes drawn to it like a magnet, cock stiffening at the thought. The darkness at its center calls to him, begs him to take her like he has so many times before—and he will. But not today.

“Be sweet to her. Treat her like a lady,” Dean tells Dom, palm sliding along the edge of her trunk.

“Of course,” Dom agrees, like there was never any question.

“What do you think, old girl?” Dom asks, his fingertips teasing at the center of her hole. “Think you can take me?”

Dean wants to watch, he really does, but he’s got his own hard cock to think about, and they could each take a tail pipe but that could lead to taking each other and Sam specifically anti-approved that. That means he’s going to use the hood and rub off between her headlights. He pulls two bottles of lube out of the glove compartment and hands one to Dom, keeping the other for himself.

He lets his fingers glide along her curves as he walks back to the hood, his raging hard on seeming to pull him along.

He takes a little time, feeling up her headlights, running his hands along the lines of her hood, fingers teasing in the ridges of the grill. He teases until he can hardly stand it, blood pounding, cock painfully hard, and stands up, undoing his jeans and pushing them down around his hips.

His slicks the shaft generously with lube, shoving the bottle in his back jeans pocket and then lowers his hips, shivers racing up his spine fast as the car Dom had blown to smithereens earlier. He lets his dicks slide across the smooth, shiny, waxed surface of her hood and shudders with delight.

Dean pumps his hips like the pistons lying still beneath her hood, feeling the drag and pull of her sleek, cool metal. He can hear Dom grunting, groaning, see his hands caressing the Impala’s trunk, grabbing hold of it as the car rocks harder and harder, hood rubbing against Dean’s dick with sweet friction.

“Oh, what a… good… girl…” Dom grunts, punctuating the pauses between words with thrusts of his hips, and Dean almost comes right there, hearing Dom praising his girl for being such a good fuck.

His girl. And she is good. She’s so good, and Dean doesn’t even have to move anymore, Dom’s twists and thrusts rocking the car back and forth against Dean’s shaft, faster and harder and he can feel the reverberation all through him, feel the tightening in his balls and stomach, orgasm rising up fast and hard inside him.

It hits him like a freight train, like a bullet to the brain blowing out the back of his skull, hips grinding the slick of his come against the hood, so wet and slippery and god it feels like heaven. But he knows nothing feels as good as her tail pipe, that perfect, dark hole filled with lube, dripping wet and taking him deep—the way she’s taking Dom right now—and he can hear the other man coming, feel the graceless rocking of the car as he loses all rhythm, grunting and spurting inside her.

Dean’s eyes roll back in his head and he comes with a violent burst, whiting out with pleasure. He leans against the hood, panting heavily, aftershocks running through his nerves, slick from belly to chest with come, and he leans down, presses his lips to her metal.

“So gorgeous. You never let me down, baby.”

At the back of the car, Dom has gotten to his feet, leaning heavily against the trunk. Through the windshield and rear windows separating them, they share a smile.

“Are you guys done fucking the car yet?” Sam’s voice is less muffled this time from outside the door.

“Just need to clean up,” Dean answers.

When they’re done cleaning her, Dom hands him back the cleaning cloth and gives him a wide smile.

“You know,” he says, “I have an Impala, too. Sexy red and white number, gorgeous chrome.”

Dean can feel his dick trying to get hard again. “Introduce me?”

Dom nods.

“And Sam, too?”

“Of course.” Dom grins. “We’re all family now.”

And they all got into the Impala and sped off down the street, hitting a ramp and flying over two tractor trailers, a space station and sling-shotting around the sun before crashing down and screeching off into the sunset.

[queen-haq]

Fic: New Beginnings (Kaya/Suna - Yali Capkini)

Fic: New Beginnings

Pairing: Kaya/Suna

Rating: R

A/N: These two got me into the show, and I was so disappointed to see their scenes were cut in the new episode. Grrr.... so I decided to write their wedding night scene for myself and fill in some of the gaps.

Summary: As Suna struggles with her past on their wedding night, Kaya is there to offer her comfort.

Suna's stomach quivered with anxiety even as she marched forward. As much as the thought of sex terrified her, the thought of Kaya walking out unnerved her more. She placed her hand on the door, blocking him from leaving. He turned around, watching her like he always did. His dark eyes brimmed with surprise, like he hadn't expected her to be so bold.

"My husband won't be spending tonight anywhere else."

Her firm voice surprised even her. She didn't sound nervous or afraid, even though that's how she felt.

"Alright," Kaya murmured, his face drifting closer.

She looked him in the eyes, and, for a moment, she was a woman with no baggage or burdens. Simply a woman, attracted to her husband, wanting him.

His mouth closed over hers, gentle, sweet, simply kissing her. As kind as his tenderness was right now, she ached to feel the hunger he showed her the day they first kissed. The way his hand squeezed her face, the desperation in his touch as he bracketed his own face with her hand. The yearning in his kiss, it had matched her own. She wanted that from him, because he made her feel like a woman burning with passion.

She grabbed him by the collar and pulled him close, hoping he would make her feel like that again.

But he pulled away instead. Panting for air, he reached for her face. His thumb stroked over her wet cheek.

Confused, Suna stepped towards him with one hand still on his collar, the other curved around the back of his neck. "Why did you stop?"

"Are you sure?"

Her heart squeezed in her chest, a slow warmth spread through her. She wasn't used to men being so considerate of her needs. Her father never cared, he was a man prone to violence and aggression. And the man she loved, although not violent, didn't feel strongly enough to stick by her. Yet here was Kaya, practically a stranger, worried about her.

She wanted to share so many things with him. Like how grateful she was when he hugged her a few minutes ago. How much she appreciated his patience with her. How much she wanted him. But she couldn't bring herself to say any of those words. Instead, she chose to show him.

Eyes fixed on him, she untied her robe.

Her heart pounded in her chest as his intense gaze lingered down her body. Oh god. He didn't just look, he seemed to inhale her in. Even though she was still dressed in a white slip, she felt absolutely naked in front of him. And yes, there was fear but there was also something else budding inside her heart. Desire. "Do I need to undress myself, Kaya?"

One second he was studying her with reverence, next his hands were threading through her hair, bringing her close, his mouth devouring hers.

Oh god.

Everything spun into chaos, she couldn't think, couldn't breathe, not when he was intoxicating her with his kiss, his hands all over her body. And it wasn't just him doing things to her, no, she was fully pursuing him, her hands pulling at his shirt, keen to touch his skin.

She didn't know when she ended up on the bed, or how he managed to throw all the pillows onto the floor. All she could feel was his body perched above hers, his skin burning hot. He was naked from the waist up, his bare chest sliding down her body, his arms flexing under her touch. How could he feel so good?

Then his tongue slowly teased the spot just below her ear, licking her, making her shudder. Instinctively her hands dug into his back, aching for more but not sure of what. A sudden, loud moan escaped her mouth as he kissed her neck, her throat. Immediately he froze, watching her with a keen gaze again. Just for a moment she wondered if she'd embarrassed herself - but she didn't' have to wonder for long. The slow, seductive smile on his face matched the desire in his eyes were loud and clear.

He was enthralled by her response to him.

Kaya's sultry voice seemed to echo through the room. "You want me."

Suna swallowed an audible breath. Reaching up, she trailed her hand down his muscular chest, tracking the tattoos on his skin. "More than I've ever wanted anybody."

The smile he gifted her with sent shivers down her spine. She couldn't remember the last time she'd felt this good, this cherished. Was this just a dream? Because she didn't think this could be real.

"I'm gonna take this off, okay?" He grazed her right shoulder, pressing soft kisses onto her skin, before hooking his fingers around the slip strap. "But don't be scared. I need to see how beautiful you are, I'm dying to touch you."

Slowly he undressed her, rolling the fabric down her body little by little, lavishing her body with kisses. With every passing second, a fire grew deep in her core. Never did she think she would be laying under someone completely naked and enjoying it.

"Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?" he whispered, throwing her slip aside. His voice ached with so much emotion, like he was mesmerized by her.

Seeing his reaction to her, she felt brave and emboldened. "Show me, Kaya."

And he did. With his hands, his mouth. Worshipped her like she was his god. She never knew someone touching her breasts could bring her so much pleasure, lapping at her nipples with his tongue. Or how amazing it would feel to have his naked body grinding down on hers. Men's erection used to disturb her before but not Kaya's, no. He was hard, and she wanted to see him, all of him, naked and hard for her.

She arched up when his tongue delved into her belly button, a sensation she'd never felt before. A soft giggle escaped her, and he laughed too, pressing soft, wanton kisses into her stomach.

"Do you have any idea what you do to me?" He growled, looking up at her from where his head lay on her stomach. "How you drive me crazy?" A wicked glint burned in his eyes. "You're always on my mind. I can't stop thinking about you, Suna."

"Then don't stop," she confessed. Fear and shame may have been etched into every inch of her soul but somehow he always managed to make her feel safe. She didn't understand how, or why, but with him she felt like she could do anything. Even burn the world down, like he'd promised.

He crawled up her body until he was directly above her. Wearing a mischievous smile, he pressed his temple onto hers. The weight of his body didn't feel heavy or suffocating. Instead, it felt like a home she never experienced before.

"I can't stop. Even if I want to."

And he kissed her again.

She didn't know how he could be aggressive yet so loving at the same time. It wasn't possible, but Kaya managed to be both. He was unlike any other man she'd ever known. A complete anomaly. And someone she trusted far more than she'd ever trusted anyone else.

Which was why when his hand trailed between her legs, slowly moving up, sneaking past her underwear to stroke her, she didn't feel afraid. Why pleasure coursed through her blood when he murmured dirty things in her ears as he slowly caressed her.

"You're so wet for me, sugar."

His words made her blush from head to toe as she lay under him, slowly falling apart under his touch.

"So sweet, so tight."

She couldn't take what he was doing to her, her body pulsing under him. Eyes closed, she covered her mouth with her hand, worried she'd scream once again.

"I knew you'd feel good, but this... Suna... you don't understand. You have no idea how amazing you feel."

Oh... there was something ready to explode in her, growing and growing, reaching for something she didn't understand.

His fingers were inside her, thrusting, making her feel so, so good – was it always like this? Was this what everyone felt with their husbands?

"Beautiful Suna..."

"Please Kaya." She didn't know what she was begging for, all she knew was there was something her body was rushing towards, desperate for it, and only Kaya could bring to her.

"Do I make you feel good, love? Do you want more?"

"Yes," she begged. "Please..."

"Open your eyes, love. Look at me."

She did as he asked, and the expression on his face made her catch her breath. He was a man drowning. No, a man ready to conquer the world with her.

Then he twisted his fingers inside her in the most incredible of ways, carrying her over the edge, and her world exploded.

Beautiful fireworks, colours of every kind, crackled in the air. She was freefalling, uninhibited, unleashed, a woman completely out of control.

She'd never felt this free before, this good. So wild and reckless and ready for anything. Slowly she came back to reality, cradled in comfort and warmth, grounded by the kisses her husband trailed on her face. And his hand – oh yes, those amazing long, lithe fingers inside of his – still pulsated inside her.

"Are you okay, Suna? Still with me?" He kissed her eyelids, first left, then the right, his other hand cradling her face. He dropped a gentle kiss on the tip of her nose. "Did I lose you already?"

Eyes still closed, you gave him a slow, tender smile. "No. Never."

"There she is." Pride beamed in his voice. "My wife. My queen."

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. "Your partner. In everything."

He grinned. "Forever."

Part 2

[weepingfromacedartree]

Ten Milestones (Interlude): Aubrey Hall

Hi friends!

Here to share the first interlude chapter for this fic!

Interlude 1: Aubrey Hall

August 2nd, 2010

Monday

“Shotgun!”

“In your fucking dreams.”

Mere seconds before Eloise can wrap her fingers around the handle, Colin steps in front and leans his entire backside against the passenger door. 

“Hey —”

“Children in the back,” he says, nodding his head towards the door to his left. 

“Children?’” she scoffs. “You are two years older than me. And for what I lack in age, I more than make up for in intelligence and maturity.” 

Again, Colin shrugs. 

“Age before brains — or whatever it is you kids say these days.” 

Exasperated, Eloise turns to their older brother. 

“Ben?” 

While clearly amused by the situation, Benedict does not want to get involved in it. He shrugs in an even more dramatic fashion than Colin had a moment ago. Before anyone can get another word in, he opens his own door and slides into the driver’s seat. 

“Pen?”

The last thing Penelope wants to do is get involved. She mouths “Sorry,” and takes her seat behind Benedict. 

After a miffed moment of consideration, Eloise determines that her brother has grown too tall and too sturdy for her to physically extricate from his spot (without resorting to scratching or biting, of course). Begrudgingly, she takes the high road. Rolling her eyes and sliding into her usual spot next to Penelope. 

“This whole family is against me,” she grumbles to no one in particular. Her mood doesn’t lift until they get out of the city. 

This is the fourth summer in a row that Penelope is accompanying the Bridgertons on their summer trip to Aubrey Hall. It started when she and Eloise were twelve; Eloise had threatened to throw a screaming fit all the way to Kent if she was unable to bring her best friend along for the ride. Violet had not appreciated her daughter’s dramatics, but obliged nonetheless. 

By now, Penelope is used to car rides like this one. She’s used to Eloise’s little utterances and jabs. She’s used to Benedict’s giddy laughter and quick comebacks. She’s used to the way Colin smiles and bounces his knee and hums along to the radio, all while the sun seems to point through the window and shine on him and him alone. She’s used to sitting in the backseat and feeling as though she’s observing them all from somewhere far in the distance. 

She likes car rides like this.

Right now, the three siblings are discussing their croquet strategies for the annual family tournament. Penelope is looking out the window, watching as the trees go by — until she hears her name called out. 

Colin is glancing at her from over his shoulder in the passenger seat. He has an expectant look on his face. Clearly, Penelope’s attention had been lost somewhere in the treeline, because she has no idea what it is that he is expecting from her. 

“Hmm?”

“Which mallett do you plan on wielding?”

“Oh. Um… None, I suppose.”

“Sitting out the game another year, Pen?” Eloise asks, a dissatisfied crease in her brow. 

Absolutely.

Under most circumstances, Penelope finds croquet to be a rather tedious and boring game. But whenever the Bridgerton siblings get involved… 

Stressful and unpleasant would be more accurate words to employ. 

Her main reason for not wanting to play in the tournament is simply that it is far more enjoyable as an onlooker than it is as a participant. However, she doesn’t think that answer would go down very well with her current audience, so she only voices a secondary reason aloud. 

“Are there not only eight mallets to choose from? I wouldn’t want to intrude and leave someone else without a stick.”

“We can always share,” Colin tells her.

“In fairness to Penelope’s point,” Benedict interjects, “our family does not have much of a reputation for sharing.” 

“I meant that I can share with her, dimwit.”

“I don’t seem to recall you being very good at sharing, either.” Eloise laughs maniacally. “Or am I misremembering an incident between you and Daphne and a certain box of Christmas cookies.”

Colin unbuckles his seatbelt just so he can turn around far enough to look his little sister in the eye as he sneers at her. 

“You do misremember. If I recall correctly, you —”

“Your recollection has about as much credibility as your penchant for sharing. I, on the other hand, would be happy to share with my best —” 

“Oh come off it, El. In the last game, you nearly took poor Gregory’s eye out. Do you —” 

“It’s not my fault he didn’t duck.”

“— really think Pen wants to share a mallet with —”

“Will you two knock it off?” Benedict would sound stern, if not for the laugh caught in the back of his throat as he scolds them. “Wait two minutes and we’ll all be free from this vehicle. You two can ignore each other from opposite ends of the estate — or get into a proper fist fight on solid ground. Up to you.” 

Moving her head to the left about an inch, Penelope peers into the spot between Colin and Benedict’s heads. Sure enough, there it is. The estate that has been in the Bridgerton family for hundreds of years. The palace on the hill. The gardens and the ponds. The intricately trimmed hedges and the ivy-lined stone. The living quarters that could fit hundreds, but typically only houses a handful of people once or twice a year. 

Aubrey Hall, in all its glory. 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Tuesday

It’s a warm, albeit slightly damp afternoon in the country. Penelope is spending it in the sunroom with Eloise. (And Gregory and Hyacinth, who are obnoxiously ignoring each other in the opposite corner.) 

She’s sitting on the couch by the window, her best friend perched on the opposite end. They both have books in their laps, but the farther Penelope gets into hers, the harder it becomes for her attention to stay put. Her eyes keep drifting upwards. To the scenery outside, to the robin egg blue window frames, to the centuries-old lamp on her left — to anywhere except the book in her hands. 

Eventually, her eyes randomly settle on a potted miniature orange tree on the other side of the room; it grows fuzzy in her vision as her mind continues to wander. 

Like most people in this world, there are things missing from Penelope’s life that she longs for greatly. Small things, like a puppy — or that powder blue sundress she saw in a window on Dover Street. Bigger things, like a louder voice or a few additional inches of height. Monumental, fundamental things, which Penelope would do absolutely anything, just to be able to say were hers.

Living her entire life in such close proximity to a family like the Bridgertons — a family that loves each member so fully, so unconditionally — one might expect Penelope to be consumed by envy at the ripe age of fifteen. But she isn’t. She can’t. 

It’s difficult to be envious of a family that seems so willing to extend that love to outsiders — even if it is only temporary. Even if it’s always a few steps removed. Even if it’s never real.

“Penelope dear.” 

Nails digging into the deckled edges of her book, Penelope turns her gaze towards the doorway. Violet is standing there with a soft, expectant look on her face. 

“I just wanted to double check — you take your tea with milk and honey, correct?” 

“Yes!” She quickly stands from her spot and places the book down. “I can assist you with afternoon tea.”

“Oh, thank you dear,” says Violet, a soft smile still hanging on her lips. “But you sit, I can handle the rest.” 

Already stepping closer, Penelope glances over to the copy of Little Women she had left behind. 

“I could use the distraction. I just keep reading the same line over and over again.” Which is true. 

I do think that families are the most beautiful things in all the world.

One final moment of pleasant doubt crosses Violet’s face, before ultimately accepting the offer. 

There are two kettles on in the kitchen, and about a dozen teabags scattered around the counter next to the stove. On the island lies a silver tray and an assortment of food. Penelope attends to the latter as Violet readies the tea. 

She barely lifts a finger before the older woman calls over her shoulder, “Are you excited for the school year to start up again?” 

The question catches Penelope a little off guard. 

Parents usually ask the opposite question. They ask about summer. They assume summer is the topic a teenager would wish to discuss — especially now, when the holiday is still fresh and the school year feels like a lifetime away. 

Belatedly, she answers, “Yes. I’m really excited to start co-editing the paper with Eloise.”

“Well, that’s certainly something to be excited about. Although,” she laughs, “I fear my daughter is too busy fretting over your end-of-year exams to enjoy anything in the meantime.”

Penelope feels her lips unwittingly twist together. Though she may enjoy and appreciate her schooling, she isn’t completely mad — she’ll never smile at the mention of the GCSEs.

Violet laughs again, soft and warm. “I know they can be daunting, but I’ve had four children sit their exams and they all survived. I have no doubt you girls will be just fine.” 

In response, Penelope can only smile and nod (and think about just how not fine both of her sisters did on theirs).

When the tea kettles start to whine and Violet turns back around, Penelope turns her attention back to the arrangement in front of her — fresh-baked biscuits, honey, jam, clotted cream, milk and sugar. She places them on the platter in front of her, tins and jars in the middle, biscuits going ‘round. She stacks each one with careful fingers, fearing the perfectly circular crusts will flake off beneath her thumb. 

Biscuit after biscuit after biscuit after —

“Penelope dear.” 

Her head whips around at the sound of her name. Violet is leaning against the counter again, tea seeping behind her. There’s a cautious smile on her face. 

“Is something on your mind?” 

Yes. Always.

In truth, Penelope’s mind has never been a particularly quiet place. Growing up, her primary school teachers would describe her as “thoughtful” on report cards and in conferences with her parents — which had seemed like an odd attribution to her at the time. After all, everyone is always thinking about something; her capacity for thought is no different than anyone else’s. 

It wasn’t until she got a bit older that she finally started to get it. With time, her proclivity to over-analyze and over-worry and over-think about her every action, opinion, and impulse only grew. With such a constant, tangled web of thoughts hanging in the back of her mind at every moment of the day…

With time, it’s become obvious. That not everyone is quite as full of thoughts as she is. That, while seemingly intended as a positive attribution from her teachers, being “thoughtful” isn’t always a good thing. Or, at the very least, not always an easy thing.

But while Penelope generally considers Violet an easy person to talk to (easier than with her own mother, at least), there are some truths that she simply cannot bring herself to voice aloud. To say one word would risk untangling the entire web, and no one has time for that. 

“Um… No, I —”

“Pen! There you are!”

Once again, she whips around at the sound of her name. Not that she needed to, to know who had called it. 

Colin is walking into the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, typical charming smile on his face. 

“I didn’t realise I was missing,” she tells him, her voice coming out the tiniest bit flustered. 

He doesn’t say anything in response to that. He simply walks around the island to stand beside her. When he lands there, he playfully bumps his hip against hers — which, due to a recent growth spurt on his end (and a stagnation on hers), lands closer to her rib cage than her hip bone. 

“Preparing tea?” he asks, picking up a single sugar cube from the dish in front of them and plopping it into his mouth. 

“Yes. Still take yours with four sugars?”

Biting back a laugh as he continues chewing, Colin shrugs. “I suppose I could limit myself to three this afternoon.” 

“A noble sacrifice,” Penelope teases. 

His eyes suddenly point away from her, looking over to the spot where his mum was standing just a moment ago. Violet must have walked into the pantry or somewhere else down the hall, because she is nowhere to be seen. 

“You missed all the fun outside,” he whispers, leaning in a bit closer. 

“F — fun?”

“Yeah,” he says, smirking. “Daphne’s off to Cheltenham in a few weeks. Ben, Ant, and I couldn't let her leave home without a few self-defence lessons.” 

“Self-defence?” she echoes again, evidently losing all conversational skills past that of a parrot. 

“Yeah. You know, making sure she knows how to throw a punch or kick someone where it really hurts. Thank god Benedict volunteered to be her test dummy, or else I might have been showing up to Eton next term with a black eye.”

Penelope’s mouth drops open into an astounded gasp, picturing Daphne’s fist colliding with Benedict’s face. 

“Oh my —”

“Colin,” Violet interrupts, suddenly reappearing from wherever it was that she disappeared to. She has a look on her face that tells Penelope she caught at least some of Colin’s last few words. “What are you talking ab—”

“Nothing, mum.” With his face the picture of innocence, he picks up another sugar cube, throws it into the air, and promptly catches it in his mouth. “Just helping Pen with tea.” 

“Well, that’s very… nice of you.” Penelope has never heard Violet sound so sarcastic before. Clearly, her son’s attempt at charming misdirection had no effect. “And Daphne? Your brothers? Will they be joining us for afternoon tea as well?”

“How would I know?”

Face settled into a faux-pleasant smile, Violet’s eyes turn to Penelope again. 

“I’ll take the tea out. Penelope dear, can you do me a favour and keep my son out of trouble in the meantime?”

Automatically, Penelope’s head turns up and to the side. To the boy who occupies such a vast space of her tangled up mind at any given moment of the day. He’s looking down at her, blue eyes peeking through brown curls. 

In truth, Penelope doesn’t think she can keep Colin out of trouble, if trouble is what he wants. She doesn’t think there’s a single thing she can convince Colin of that he hasn’t already made up his mind about. 

Cheeks suddenly a light shade of pink, she turns her gaze back to Violet. 

“I’ll do my best.”

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Wednesday

It’s hot today. It’s the type of hot that feels sticky against your skin. The type of hot that infects your brain as much as it does your body. The type of hot that draws your footsteps towards the nearest body of cold water. 

At Aubrey Hall, there are several bodies of water to choose from. 

Almost everyone is in and around the pool situated in the back garden — which also just so happens to be situated directly under the sun at this time of day. After spending approximately an hour in the water, Penelope is now sitting off to the side under the safety of a big blue umbrella. Her hair and bathing suit are still damp. Her skin still prickles like it’s burning. Her oversized sunglasses sit as close to her skull as physically possible. There’s a book in her hands, but her eyes won’t let her get through a single line before they inevitably start to wander. 

Colin is still in the water, surrounded by the majority of his siblings. He’s throwing Gregory an inflatable basketball. He’s picking up Hyacinth and throwing her three feet in the air. He’s splashing Eloise. He’s wading through the water. He’s laughing. He’s running a hand through his hair, his bicep growing taught with the motion.

It’s unfair, Penelope thinks, forcing her eyes downward again, how Colin can live under the sun and never sweat beneath its heat. How the sunlight follows him wherever he moves, eternally shining down on him in glorious reflection. How in a space brimming with other people, the light appears to fall on him and him alone. 

After reading the same line for the sixth time in a row, Penelope abandons her dreams of lazily enjoying a book by the pool. She stands from her spot, throws on a white cotton dress, and tucks her copy of Sense & Sensibility under her armpit. 

At Aubrey Hall, there are several bodies of water to choose from on hot days like this, so Penelope ventures deeper into the estate. As she steps forward, she cannot help but think about the things that have changed since this summer and last — since the last time she walked down this very path.

Last summer, she wasn’t alone — she was walking arm and arm with Eloise while Colin and Benedict trailed closely behind. Last summer, Colin was about to leave for Eton and Penelope could think of nothing else but his leaving and whether or not their friendship would survive it. Last summer, she knew her feelings for him were growing stronger with each passing day, and she knew that momentum would not halt once he was out of her view. 

Last summer, Penelope was two cup sizes smaller. Last summer, Colin was two inches shorter. 

Last summer, her footsteps did not seem so predestined for the shadows. Last summer, she had not been so keenly aware of the way in which the light reflects off of Colin.

Last summer, she felt like a kid. This summer, she feels like a kid with a lot more shit swimming around her brain and body. 

Last summer —

Her footsteps (and her train collision of thoughts) stop short when she reaches her intended destination. It’s a small swimming pond, shaded by elm trees and outfitted with a little wooden dock. Positioning herself on the edge, Penelope lets her feet dangle into the tepid water. Then, she looks down. 

Free from any visual distractions, she almost makes it through an entire chapter uninterrupted. Almost. 

She knows it’s him long before she turns her head to confirm, but when she does…

Colin is walking down the path by himself. He’s wearing sandals and his navy blue swim trunks. And nothing else. 

Once he gets close enough, Penelope says, “Hi.” Or, she tries to; the word comes out more like a soundless breath of air.

He plops down beside her with a smile on his lips and a glint in his eye. “I was wondering where you disappeared to.”

“Sorry. I, uh…” She closes the book that was previously sitting open in her lap and displays it for Colin to see. “I was having trouble focusing back there. Thought I would enjoy the quiet for a few minutes.”

“You want me to fuck off?” he asks, a hint of cheekiness to his voice as he smirks and nods his head towards the path from which he came. 

The quickness with which she answers “No” is a bit embarrassing, even for her. But Colin doesn’t seem to mind. Or maybe even notice. 

“Alright.” He leans back from his sitting position to lay against the dock beside her. “You go back to your book. I’ll lay here and enjoy the silence.”

Penelope, who would do just about anything Colin asks her to, does as she’s told and reopens her book. But as determined as she is to keep her eyes focused on the text, she can’t stop herself from continually glancing sideways. She can’t prevent her mind from lingering on the smell of him — the soap and the sweat and the chlorine all radiating off his body. She can’t help but curse the few inches of distance that separate their bodies. And then, when he has the gall to drift off to sleep on a goddamn wooden deck, she can’t hear anything except those soft, even breaths. 

Through all of it, she desperately tries to read — to continue forward. But yet again, she’s stuck reading the same line over and over and over again.

If I could but know his heart, everything would become easy.

If I could but know his heart, everything would become easy.

If I could but know his heart, 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Thursday

It rained today. All day. 

It’s the type of rainy day that makes you forget that the sky was ever blue — that the sun still exists somewhere high above you, out of sight from where you stand on the ground. 

Everyone spent the day inside. Around 3:00, Daphne suggested that they all watch a movie together to pass the time. By 4:00, she and most of the other Bridgertons had abandoned that plan. 

They had drawn cards in order to determine who would pick the movie. Eight-year-old Hyacinth had drawn a Queen, and was thus named the winner. Inspired by the current weather, she had plucked Singin’ in the Rain out of the box of DVDs. 

No one was particularly enthused by her choice. Not even Hyacinth, who has since fallen asleep and is now curled up in the armchair in the corner of the room. 

Sixty-eight minutes into the movie, the only people still present, awake, and watching it are Colin and Penelope. Well, they’re awake and present — to say they’re “watching” the movie is a bit of a stretch. Penelope’s attention is mainly focused on the notebook in her hands. Colin’s is mainly on his phone. It isn't until the music picks up again and Gene Kelly starts dancing around in the rain that he focuses his attention on the TV. 

From his spot on the other end of the couch, Colin nudges Penelope’s knee with his foot. 

“When was the last time you ran around in the rain like that?” 

Looking up from her notebook, Penelope glances back and forth between Colin’s expectant face and the TV screen. Gene Kelly continues to dance around, skipping in puddles and twirling around lamp posts. 

“Never.” 

“Never?” he echoes, brows furrowed. 

Once again, Penelope’s eyes dart back and forth between Colin and the fantastical scene playing out on the screen. Then, she shrugs. She’s not quite sure where his confusion is coming from.

“Do you have a habit of singing and dancing in the rain, Colin?” 

“No.” He quickly throws a glance over his shoulder to confirm that Hyacinth is still asleep in the armchair. “But come on,” he continues, his voice a bit lower than it was before. “There wasn’t a single time in your childhood that you ran out in the rain and let loose?”

Penelope barely considers the question. She could wrack her brain for hours, searching for a memory of a time when she had “let loose” and would come up empty. 

“No.” 

Just as Colin opens his mouth to say something else, she continues. 

“Does anyone really do this,” she uses a ballpoint pen to point to the TV screen, “outside of fictional characters who just so happen to live inside a musical?” 

Colin laughs. 

“Well, not this exactly. I never expected little Penelope Featherington to have broken out into song on a street corner. But come on — at some point, you must have had the desire to dance around in the rain.” 

You don’t know what I desire, she wants to say, but doesn’t. 

“No,” she says instead. “Dancing in the rain is just silly.” 

Colin’s jaw drops in exaggerated horror. 

“How is it —”

“Dancing without music is silly. In a movie, dancing in the rain might make for a good musical sequence, but in reality, there is very rarely music accompanying a torrential downpour. Save for a poorly timed outdoor wedding, I can’t think of many scenarios in which I would want to dance in the rain.” 

Still looking a bit horrified, Colin crosses his arms in front of his chest. 

“I would argue that dancing in the rain is one of the few times when one would want to dance without music.” 

“You can’t dance without music,” she insists, crossing her own arms.

“Yes you can! If you have feet and rain — which, in case you forgot, we have plenty of in England — you can dance in the rain.” 

“Why would you want —”

“Because it’s fun, Pen,” he interrupts — evidently a bit too loudly. Hyacinth darts her head up from the side of the armchair. 

“Where is everyone?” she asks dazedly, rubbing a fist across her eyes. 

Colin sighs, throwing Penelope one last over-exaggerated eye roll before turning his attention towards his sister.

“Nowhere, Hy. You’re still dreaming.” 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Friday

It’s raining again. Penelope watches streams of water rolling down the window beside her, ignoring the book in her lap. She’s also trying desperately to ignore the scene unfolding a few metres away from her in the center of the room, but that proves to be a more difficult task.

The annual croquet tournament was meant to be held this morning, but when the rain didn’t let up by noon, the siblings dispersed to different ends of the property to entertain themselves by other means. Currently, Colin and Eloise are in the library on the east wing, engaging in another family favourite pastime: argument. 

Penelope has lost track of what it is they’re arguing about. It had started with Eloise attempting to offer Colin unsolicited advice on his croquet technique, then Colin offered his own advice on Eloise’s “perpetual lateness,” then the Christmas cookie incident got brought up again, then —

Suffice to say, Penelope has since lost the plot. But whatever it is that they’re currently arguing over doesn’t even matter. After sitting in on so many of these sorts of encounters over the years, Penelope has come to accept that the Bridgerton siblings simply love to argue. It’s like a sport for them — one just as blood thirsty as a casual game of croquet. 

Sinking deeper into her chair by the window, Penelope casts her eyes downward and lifts her index finger to the page, tracing it across every word until her mind starts to actually register what it is that she is reading. She nearly makes it through the chapter before her ears unconsciously perk up at the sound of something all too familiar. 

“Penelope is my best friend. Your need to encroach on everything I hold dear is ridiculous. I suggest —”

“Oh, come off it Eloise. At least I don’t speak about Pen like she’s a piece of property I own. And —” 

“I do no such thing!”

“— we both know who she prefers to spend her time with. Of course I’m her —”

“Bullshit.”

“— best friend.”

As they continue down this path, Penelope tears her eyes away from her book and towards her supposed best friends. 

This debate started up a few years ago (around the time that she and Eloise started secondary school) and hasn’t let up since. While some might think this a complimentary position for Penelope to be in, in reality, she has always found it quite exhausting. 

From the beginning, she has taken the stance that she usually takes when thrown into the middle of a Bridgerton argument: neutrality. In her experience, that tends to lead to the least amount of bloodshed. 

But while Penelope may insist upon not taking sides in this particular debate, the answer in her mind and in her heart is far more decisive. 

In truth, Penelope has always seen Eloise as her best friend — not Colin. Not because the two of them were closer first. Not because she cares for Eloise any more or less than she does Colin. No, Penelope’s feelings for Eloise are simply uncomplicated. 

In truth, to call Colin her best friend is difficult for Penelope. The term is just so final. Best friend — there’s nothing that comes after that. To call him that feels like an admittance that a friend is all she’ll ever be to him. Even if she always — always wants more. 

“Pen?” 

Penelope blinks several times before focusing her attention back on reality. She’s not 100% sure which of them had called her name, but Colin and Eloise are both looking at her expectantly. 

“Sorry — what?”

“We’re gonna go into town — to that ice cream shop with the cows out front,” Eloise says. “You coming?”

Penelope nods, throws her book to the side, and stands fromthe chair. She smooths out her skirt and looks over to her friends. They’re still staring up at her from their spots on the rug. 

“Of, uh — of course.” 

꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Saturday

Having spent her entire adolescence in London, there are many things Penelope has to adjust to while on these brief trips out to the country. The hardest to adjust to, she has found, is just how peaceful it all is. 

In the country, the loudest noise you’ll hear on a Saturday morning isn’t a horn blaring or a disgruntled drunk stumbling home from a late night. It’s birds. 

Every other day this week, Penelope had been jolted awake by the unexpectedly deafening sound of a dawn chorus. Most mornings, she had been able to turn over in bed and get another hour or two of sleep in. This morning was different, though; her eyes were already open and alert by the time the birds began their song. 

Thirty-seven minutes after her wake up call, Penelope now walks along a bizarrely peaceful path on the edge of the property. She looks up, to a pair of bluebirds dancing in the wind. She looks down, to the grass silently being crushed beneath her trainers. She looks to the side, towards a pond so still that its tepid surface looks as though it’s been frozen over. 

That is, until Colin skips a pebble across it. 

When exiting Eloise’s bedroom door this morning, Penelope had planned on taking a quick trip around the ponds alone. But when she found Colin in the kitchen eating a “pre-breakfast,” suddenly it became a walk for two. 

“Why were you up so early?” Colin (a perpetual early bird) asks her now. He does not miss a step as he doubles over and picks up another pebble from the path beneath them. 

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“Is Eloise’s snoring really that loud?” 

“No.” She laughs. “Well, yes. But I’ve gotten used to it over the years.” 

And that’s true. Penelope has long since overcome her inability to sleep through disruption. (Save for the birds that have been tormenting her this past week.) 

“Just your usual bout of insomnia, then?” 

“Yup.” 

Also true. And an increasingly common occurrence in her life. 

“Is something on your mind?” 

“No.” 

Less than true. Colin looks as though he’s about to press her further, but before he can, she searches her mind for something to blame for her restlessness. Anything other than her own overworked mind.

“I think the quiet here is starting to unnerve me.” She laughs quietly, a forced breath of nonchalance. “I’m so used to falling asleep and waking up to the sounds of traffic and yelling. The birds chirping in the morning are starting to feel a bit…” 

“Antagonistic?” Colin finishes when her voice trails off, looking up to the sky with a slight grimace on his face. 

She laughs again, softer and more genuine now. 

“Yeah.”

“I know what you mean.” Colin reaches down for another pebble, but doesn’t immediately dispel it like he did the others. He turns it over and over in his palm as he continues speaking. “I’m used to how Aubrey Hall sounds by now, but Eton took some getting used to.” 

His mention of “Eton” causes Penelope’s ears to perk up. 

After growing up in posh all-boy schools in London, Colin had left the city to attend Eton College for his A-Levels last fall. When he did, for the first time in Penelope’s life, Colin Bridgerton had not lived across the street from her. To Penelope, this change had felt monumental (to phrase it nicely). But to him…

Well, she doesn’t exactly know how he feels on the subject. He never seems to want to talk about it — with her, at least. 

“What does it sound like?” she asks him. “At Eton, I mean.” 

“Uh… Well it’s quiet, mostly. But loud in its own ways. I think it’s because the halls are so archaic and winding — noises carry differently there than they do here or at home.” 

“Are you excited to go back?” she asks when he doesn’t expand any further. 

“I…” He chuckles, then finally gets rid of the pebble in his hand. “I would prefer not to discuss the school year during my summer holiday.” 

“Fair enough,” she mutters, shrugging her shoulders in acceptance of the brevity of this particular conversation. In its absence, a familiar quiet falls between them. (Save for the wind and the birds and the twigs snapping beneath their feet.)

Unconsciously, Penelope’s fingers pull at the hem of her skirt. It was probably not the best choice for an early morning walk around the ponds, but in fairness, she thought the air would be a bit warmer by now. 

As the quiet continues, Penelope’s eyes dart all around, pointing everywhere, except to the person walking directly beside her. She looks down, noting how the whites of her converse are starting to turn brown. She looks up, curious about the colour of the sky, but unable to make out much between the trees. She looks to the side, to the nearest pond; she watches as the still surface begins to sputter.

“We should head back,” she murmurs, voice soft as she feels the first few drops of rain hit her bottom lip. Colin nods his head, then alters his footsteps accordingly. 

The very moment that they step out of the cover of trees and into the open field, Penelope wonders if it was the right call to make. Her head swivels back and forth, from the wooded area behind them to the house ahead. The latter is about an acre of land away, but looks much farther from her current position. 

Before she can make a decision, Penelope’s eyes settle on Colin. She does so looking for some sort of guidance forward. The only problem is that he isn’t looking at the woods or the house. 

He’s looking at the sky.

He’s smiling. 

“Should we —” Penelope starts, but stops after realising her tentative words aren’t quite audible above the rainfall.

Colin finally looks down, moving his attention away from the sky and directly onto Penelope. With a smile still plastered on his face, he tells her, “I think this is what some people would call a sign.”

“What —”

“Ready to let loose, Featherington?” 

He extends his hand towards her, though Penelope cannot even begin to fathom why. Then it hits her. 

There wasn’t a single time in your childhood that you ran out in the rain and let loose?

“No,” she answers for the second time that week. Which may be a new record for her. 

“Oh, come on Pe—”

“This is silly.” 

With a huff, she lightly slaps away his offered hand. Realising she needs to make this decision on her own, she starts walking in the direction of the house. Unfortunately, Colin’s footsteps are quicker than hers; he gets in front of her, blocking her path forward within seconds. 

“How is it ‘silly?’” 

There are many extensive, reasonable answers Penelope could give in response to his question. But due to the rain beating down on them — quick and gaining speed by the second — she defaults to brevity. 

“No music.” 

“I thought we already refuted that point.”

“Colin —”

“But if music is really so important to you, I could always sing.” 

No. No no no no no no no.

Penelope feels her eyes go wide and her body go rigid as her brain briefly short circuits. In some universe, she could maybe — just maybe — handle dancing in the rain with Colin without having her heart explode. But there is simply no chance in any universe she could survive him serenading her while doing so.

“No,” she says again. Definitely a record. 

“Pen —”

“No singing. That’s far too silly.” 

“Okay, okay, okay…” A goofy, albeit expectantly charming smile graces his lips. “Fair enough — no singing. Out loud, at least.”

“What are —”

“Just sing a song in your head. I’ll sing one in mine.” 

Again, there are a million questions and objections she could voice aloud. The one she lands on is: “What song?”

“Whatever you want. It’s your head.”

“But what if we sing different songs and our footsteps are all mixed up?”

“Then the world will end.” Colin tilts his head back as he laughs. “Nothing! Nothing will happen — other than a bit of fun.”

Once again, Colin offers her his hand. And god — for all her consternation on this ridiculous, utterly absurd offer, she can’t bring herself to deny him any longer. 

Unsurprisingly, the dance begins with an awkward start. Their hands interlock with gripping fingers, continually adjusting to the rain slipping between them. All other points of their bodies remain separate; their arms form an oval shape as their feet pick up speed. 

At first, they swing around each other like two little kids playing Ring a Ring o’ Roses. And while Colin laughs like this is the most fun he’s had in years, Penelope can’t help but bite at her lip; she feels even more exposed and awkward and utterly silly than she had expected. Just when she thinks they’ll follow the nursery rhyme and fall into the muddy ground beneath them, Colin alters their movements.

Dropping one hand, he raises the other to twirl her around — twice. By the second time, she actually has a smile on her face. 

“This isn’t too bad, is it?” 

“Oh! Uh, no — I —” 

She doesn’t get the chance to finish that sentence before Colin spins her around again, this time out and away from his own body. When her arm extends fully and she’s as far away from him as she can get with their hands gripped together, she once again fears that her feet will give out from underneath her and send her crashing downwards. But just as the Earth tilts and she feels herself falling, Colin pulls her back in. 

Her right shoulder hits his sternum with a bang — hard enough that she fears either one of them could leave this encounter with a bruise. “Sorry!” she yelps, but suspects that Colin can’t hear her over the rain still pouring down around them. 

She moves her feet just enough to extract herself from Colin’s center. She then finds his left hand and interlocks it with her right so they’re in a similar position to where they had started. This time though, their arms hang lower and their bodies aren’t so far apart. 

As a low rumble of thunder starts beating in the distance, the two of them continue dancing. Their movements feel less awkward to her now, but just as silly. Which, Penelope finally realises, isn’t necessarily a bad thing. 

Feeling lighter and freer than she has all morning, Penelope’s head tilts backwards with laughter. Unfortunately, such lightness is short-lived, for Colin misinterprets her unconscious movement as an attempt to dip backwards. 

Following her unintentional lead, Colin’s left hand leaves her grasp and shoots to her lower back. The movement inadvertently pulls her pelvis right up against his leg. 

“Fuck!” she yelps, too caught off guard to stop herself. This time, Colin can easily hear her above the raging storm.

“Pen, are you o—”

He doesn’t get the chance to finish that sentence. 

Caught off guard not just by Penelope’s expletive, but also by the way her body went rigid in his arms and against his middle, Colin loses track of his own footsteps. His left foot trips over his right ankle. He barely manages to let go of her before tumbling unceremoniously to the ground. 

Still frozen in the position he had just held her in, Penelope can only watch as he falls into a particularly muddy patch of grass. His entire right side is instantly caked in mud. 

“Oh my god!” she finally manages to get out. “Colin!” 

She gets down on his level just as he rolls onto his back. As he opens his eyes and looks up at her, she expects them to squint in annoyance — the fall was her fault, after all. At the very least, she expects them to go wide, in shock or in pain. 

What she does not expect is for them to crinkle. For his entire face to light up with humour as his head falls back even deeper into the mud and he starts laughing. 

 Laughing. 

“Colin?” she repeats, tentatively this time; she fears he might be suffering from a concussion. 

“That’s what I get for trying to show off,” he mutters, still laughing. Still laying in the mud. 

Mouth opening and closing several times, Penelope takes in the state of him. Every inch of his back and right side — from the tip of his white trainer to the crown of his head — is coated in a murky brown sludge. 

“I — I’m sorry,” she finally manages to say. 

“For what?” He finally sits up, wiping his hands against the little bit of clean fabric left of his shorts. “I didn’t expect you to catch me before I hit the ground. No offence, but I think that could have only resulted in both of us covered in muck.”

She opens her mouth again, but before she can say anything, lightning strikes directly over their heads. A deafening boom follows less than a second later. 

Though not at all a religious person, Penelope has to assume that flash of light was a message sent directly from God, telling her to keep her mouth shut. 

What could she have said, anyway?

Sorry. I can’t get that close to you without losing control of all bodily functioning. 

“I think that’s a sign to cut our dance short,” Colin announces. When he fruitlessly wipes at his brow and peels his legs from the Earth, Penelope lets out a semi-forced laugh. 

“Was the mud caked all over your body not enough of a reason?”

Now standing above her, he shrugs. 

“Eh. It’s just a bit of mess,” he says. “The rain will clean me off before we get back to the house.” 

With that, he extends his hand down to her. And god — how could she not take it? 

They run back to the house together, feet sinking deeper and deeper into the grass as they go. Just as they land on solid ground, Colin halts both of their footsteps by placing a hand around her elbow. 

“I forgot to ask,” he starts, his voice warm but still raised. They’re technically out of the rain and under the cover of the back terrace, but the storm is so loud that they may as well be in the middle of it. “What song were you singing?”

“What?” she asks, genuinely not sure if she heard him right. 

“When we were dancing — what song were you singing in your head?”

Like a lightning bolt, it hits her all at once that Colin was right. That she did not, in fact, need music to dance in the rain and have a bit of fun. 

She didn’t sing a song in her head before, but he’s looking at her so expectantly with that goddamn smile on his face… 

She can’t bring herself to admit the truth, so she says the first thing that pops into her head. 

“Yellow. You know, that song by Coldplay.” 

Tearing her eyes away from his, Penelope looks down to her dress — a chequered yellow and white sundress that flows down to her knees. It’s one of the few unsolicited pieces of clothing from her mother that she actually likes. Loves, even. 

Though it hadn’t been her intention when looking down, Penelope can’t help but take in the state of her attire. Every inch of her is dripping with rain. And though it’s nothing compared to what Colin’s sporting now, there’s mud speckled all over her. Her dress is probably ruined, but truthfully, she couldn’t care less. 

Turning her attention back to the blue eyes already fixed on hers, Penelope laughs. 

“Funny how that song always gets stuck in my head.”

Colin laughs too. She can’t quite make out what he says next, but she thinks she hears the word “good” somewhere in all that noise. 

He turns away from her slightly, body pointed towards the nearest entrance into the house. But before he can step away, Penelope taps him on the elbow. 

“What song were you singing?” 

Though his lips part immediately, he does not answer her question right away. Just when Penelope wonders if he forgot the answer, he leans in closer.

“Your song was better,” he insists. “That’s the song.” 

Before she can muster up a single word in response to that, Colin turns and walks towards the door, his backside very much still painted brown. Penelope stays behind for a moment, feeling stuck in her place on the edge of the terrace, heart beating in her ears and raindrops pelting into her sideways. 

 ꙳ ꙳ ꙳

Sunday

“Do you think time moves faster in the country?” 

Penelope looks over and up, catching a glimpse of Colin’s face in the sun. It’s unusually sunny this morning — not a cloud in the sky. 

“Don’t people usually say the opposite? That the days are longer in the country than in the city.” 

“Yeah, I know that’s what ‘people’ say,” he mutters, rolling his eyes down at her with a smile still pressed into his cheeks. “But doesn’t it feel like we just got here?”

While her feet continue forward, Penelope looks over her shoulder, towards the building not so far in the distance behind them. 

Aubrey Hall was built in the 17th century and has remained relatively untouched ever since. Thus, any 21st century cars have to be parked in the garage hidden behind a cluster of trees, about a quarter-mile away from the home. Eloise and Benedict are making the trek with them, walking about five paces behind them. (Although the pair seem so engrossed in conversation that they may as well be a hundred steps behind.)

Turning back to Colin…

“Isn’t that how all vacations go? Each day feels long, but then when you look back it’s like the whole week was a blur.” 

He considers this a moment. 

“That’s very apt, Pen.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” she mumbles. “That’s just another thing people say. Honestly, I don’t have that much experience with vacations, other than a few trips to see my family in Ireland. And here, of course.” 

Looking up towards the sky, Colin sighs. 

“Yeah, I don’t have much experience with those, either. I’ve never travelled much farther than here.”

All at once, it strikes Penelope how true and how surprising his statement is. Since they were children, Colin has talked at great length about the places he dreams of travelling to one day. Paris, Vienna, Athens, New York, Venice… 

The list is long, to say the least. But at seventeen, the number of countries Colin has visited is rather brief. For most teenagers, she would attribute that disparity to limitations in money or freedom — but neither of those are in short supply in the Bridgerton household. 

“Why is that?” 

Colin quickly throws a glance over his shoulder before answering, “Dunno. Probably has to do with the guilt that comes with owning such a massive estate. I mean, it barely gets used as it is. To spend our holidays somewhere else would just be… wasteful.” 

Penelope also looks over her shoulder. She steals one last glance at said massive estate before turning the corner that leads to the hidden garage. 

“It is a rather nice place to spend your time,” she remarks. “But there are a lot of amazing places out there in the world. Aubrey Hall will always be here to return to.”

It takes Colin a moment to respond to that. Though his footsteps continue forward, he turns his attention down and to the side. To her. His eyes squint softly in those last few fleeting seconds before he voices his response.

“Very apt, Pen.” 

Though not a religious person, Penelope thanks God that Colin’s eyes flick forward just as a blush bursts up her skin and paints her cheeks bright pink. She opens her mouth, feeling a sudden urge — a need to say something to fill the air between them. But before she can, someone else’s voice fills it for her. 

“Shotgun!”

She turns her head just in time to catch Eloise running up from behind them; her eyes are fixed on the car sitting a few metres away. When Penelope turns back to Colin, she expects to see him manoeuvring himself in front of his sister, just as he did when she pulled this same trick earlier in the week. 

(Knowing the Bridgertons, she half-expects him to stick his foot out and trip her.) 

But no. Colin’s footsteps remain even as Eloise rushes past. When Penelope throws him a questioning glance, he smirks. 

“Sometimes, you have to let her get a win in,” he explains. “Otherwise, we’ll all pay.” 

“You’re incorrigible,” Penelope mutters, doing her best to conceal the smirk forming on her own lips. Before either of them can say anything else, she quickens her pace and closes what little distance is left between herself and the car. 

Mere seconds after she takes her spot behind the driver’s seat, Colin slides into the spot beside her. When their eyes catch, Penelope remembers what they were discussing before Eloise had interrupted them. 

Leaning over the middle seat by a few inches, Penelope asks in a hushed tone: “If you had to jump on a plane right now and spend a week-long holiday anywhere in the world, where would you go?” 

Colin smiles before answering, “Greece.” He raises one eyebrow before asking, “Where would you go?”

“Paris,” she says, not realising how true her answer is until about a second after it leaves her lips. 

Both of Colin’s eyebrows lift. He looks like he’s about to ask another question, but before he can, the ignition kicks on and Eloise turns the radio all the way up. 

During the remainder of the trip home, Penelope resists the urge to dwell on the events of the past week — to recall how Colin looked beneath the sun or how he felt in the rain. She also resists the urge to fester on the future — on the upcoming school year and the absence of Colin from her life again. 

She does her best to focus only on the now. On the music. On the treeline. On her friends. On Colin, sitting beside her, humming a tune and bobbing his knee and smiling in that way that will always make her stomach flutter. 

Now is good. 

[half-eaten-deodorant]

Trying to write a Napollya fanfic

My first one so don't judge

I'm aware it absolutely sucks

I would appreciate feedback

𝓐𝓯𝓽𝓮𝓻 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓜𝓲𝓼𝓼𝓲𝓸𝓷

WARNINGS: 18+, kinky, bondage, minors DNI, smutty, male with male

It was a long day and the mission left both men exhausted. Illya and Napoleon are walking into the hotel they're staying at.

"I'm exhausted, do you mind if I crash in your room for tonight", Illya asks Napoleon.

"That's alright with me, Kuryakin"

The two men walk into the elevator and take it to the floor of Napoleon's room. Napoleon slides his keycard into the door to open it, the door unlocks and he holds it open for Illya.

"After you, partner"

"Why thank you, Napoleon"

Illya walks into the hotel room as Napoleon follows behind him and shuts the door, locking it.

"Why'd you lock the door?", asks the Russian, his voice curious.

"Why not?~" Napoleon's voice has a hint of tease in it, Illya even senses a hint of lust.

Illya takes in his surroundings until his eyes catch a strip of black leather in Napoleon's suitcase.

"What on earth is that?" Illya's voice is a little nervous, he thinks he knows what this mysterious leather is, but he isn't for certain.

Napoleon smiles as he walks to the suitcase and pulls out the leather, it's a black harness that is obviously made for a person. "A harness, why do you ask?"

Illya flushes immediately at the sight of the harness, he doesn't know how Napoleon found out he was into harnesses.

"H-how do you know I'm into this kind of stuff?" the Russian's voice was shaky, but he was starting to get a bit turned on.

Napoleon walks towards Illya, he's less than 2 feet away. "I have my ways~", The raven haired man has a devilish smile on his lips, damn him and his charm.

Illya makes the first move; "Do you want to try it with me~"

It's Napoleon's turn to flush. "Of course, Illya~." He slides off his top, revealing his toned body a happy trail to match, and slides on the harness, it accentuates his chest and waist.

"I don't suppose you have a harness for me aswell~"

"Of course I do~" Napoleon hands a second harness to Illya. The Russian man unbuttons his top and let it slide to the floor, the man is the definition of a beefcake, he has a dad bod, but a slutty waist aswell. The harness makes his chest look much larger. Napoleon's jaw drops as he sees the blonde Russian's man tits.

"Hot damn"

Illya closes the distance between the two men, putting his hand on Napoleon's waist and kissing him passionately. His tongue meets Napoleon's lips, begging to be let in. Napoleon opens his mouth and Illya's tongue dances with his, their saliva mixing. Illya pushes Napoleon onto the bed face up.

"You're about to have the ride of your life~" Illya pulls rope from the bag he brought in.

"Bondage?"

"Yes, sir" Illya reaches overtop of Napoleon and ties his wrists to the bedpost. Illya straddles Napoleon's waist. "You're going to look so pretty when I'm done with you~." Illya then ties Napoleon's legs to the bedframe spread apart and pulls lube and a vibrator from his bag. "You might want to cover your ears because it's about to get really loud~"

"Bring it on"

"If you say so, darling~" Illya turns on the vibrator and puts it against Napoleon's inner thigh. "Ready~?"

Napoleon nods and looks up at him, his eyes wide with excitement. Illya grins and grabs the lube, pouring some in his fingers.

Napoleon looks up at him, his eyes wide with excitement. "What are you doing?"

he smiles "I'm going to show you what I can do with these fingers~" he slips one into Napoleon, moving it around inside him "you like that?~"

Napoleon nods frantically, his eyes wide with pleasure. "Yes, keep going!"

he grins and puts another finger in, "You like that, darling?~"

Napoleon moans loudly, arching off the bed. "Oh god yes!"

he grins, adding a third finger "You're so pretty when you make those noises~"

Napoleon moans again, looking up at him. "You're so good at this..."

he grins "oh I know~" he slips his fingers out "are you ready for me, darling?~"

Napoleon nods eagerly, his eyes sparkling.

Illya smiles and pours some lube on himself, slicking it up. "are you sure?~"

Napoleon nods frantically, looking up at him. "Yes!"

he grins "you're gonna love it~" he pushes into Napoleon, groaning as he bottoms out

Napoleon moans loudly, arching off the bed. "Oh god!"

he smiles and leans down to kiss Napoleon, his thrusts increasing in speed and force "you look so pretty like this~"

Napoleon groans into the kiss, his eyes fluttering closed.

he continues to kiss him as he pounds into him "Are you close darling?~"

Napoleon nods frantically, his eyes wide with pleasure. "Yes!"

he grins and kisses him again, his thrusts increasing in speed until he's pounding into him as hard as he can. "Cum for me, darling~"

Napoleon moans loudly as he cums, his body shaking with pleasure. "Oh god!"

he smiles down at him, his face flushed "you were so good for me, darling~"

Napoleon looks up at him, his eyes wide with pleasure. "You were amazing..."

he smiles and leans down to kiss Napoleon, his hands trailing over his chest "are you okay, darling?~"

Napoleon nods, his eyes sparkling. "Yeah, that was... incredible."

he grins "I'm glad you liked it~" he starts untying Napoleon "you were so good for me, darling~"

Napoleon smiles and leans into his touch, relaxing as the ropes are removed. "You're very good at that."

he grins, wrapping his arms around Napoleon "thank you darling~ you're a very good boy, and you always do exactly what I ask you to do, and I really appreciate that~"

Napoleon smiles up at him, his eyes wide with pleasure. "I love doing what you ask me to do."

my cum drips out of you slowly

Napoleon gasps, his eyes widening. "Oh my god..."

I pull the vibrator out of you and lick the juices off of it

Napoleon watches him, his eyes sparkling. "Oh god..."

I get off of you and put the vibrator back in the drawer "you were so good for me, darling~" I take your chin in my hand and pull you into a long, passionate kiss

Napoleon kisses him back, his body trembling with pleasure. "Oh god..."

I gently push you onto your side, cuddling up behind you and wrapping my arms around you "are you okay, darling?~" I place my hand on your chest, feeling your heartbeat

Napoleon nods, his eyes sparkling.

"Yeah, I'm okay."

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 225

Inside Man/Kill the Moon

“Inside Man”

Plot Description: Sam and Castiel set out on a mission to find a cure for the Mark of Cain, and Crowley’s relationship with Rowena is put to the rest

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No one died

Goddammit, let Bobby rest!! He earned that

(Cut to 24 hours earlier)

It’s a good thing the brothers know each other like that because Sam wanting to go off to some other city to see a foreign film on their off day is not convincing me as the viewer. How that convinced Dean, I don’t know

If we want to get…….oh. It wasn’t “if we want to get rid of the Mark, we have to get rid of Dean” it’s “it’s we have to get back in cahoots with Metatron”

Crowley, can you KNOCK?!

She looks stunning in purple…the costumers have been so wonderful to me

She’s got herself a lil boy toy…maybe. Or she made up a boy toy to cover up her real motives, which is even funnier

Cas isn’t allowed in heaven?!

🥹Hannah🥹 it does make me sad to see them opposing each other though

How do you break Metatron out of jail……….oh. That’s why they need Bobby, I bet

“You can be damned AND a conscientious worker” man, you don’t HAVE to be though

How does Dean have that many people in his phone? No offense, man

Sam’s :/ yet undeterred face when faced with a billion “No trespassing” and “keep out” signs

I love sasstiel. “And you’re….what ARE you?” “…I’m an angel” “that…no you can’t be” “why not?”

This psychic calling Metatron a creepy hobbit lookin fellow. It honestly made me laugh out loud in the break room

Dean…now you’re just being mean. There’s hustling someone at pool and then there’s taking that kid’s watch that his dad gave him. Yeah he’s an asshole college kid, but damn

There is no rest for Bobby…

She dressed up so nicely to go try to kill Dean, and she’s so unrepentantly evil. Fuck, I love her so much.

Ewwww…the structure of heaven is really…terrible. It’s all sterile hallways with alphabetized rooms where every individual person gets their version of heaven. It’s not what it should be

GIRLIE!!! You literally cut yourself up and blamed Dean to get Crowley to turn on him. And I love how she absolutely cuts Crowley to the core with her words

Omg a revolt of all the Robert and Roberto and Roberta Singers that Bobby broke out of their respective heavens

That was such a funny action movie sequence. Cas jumping into the portal to heaven and sliding through the door

“Dean has given up” “And you idjits haven’t.” “Would you?” “Hell no” Cas and Bobby deserved more screen time together

God, this sit down talk between Dean and Crowley…they ARE friends. They’re somehow still friends

I hate Metatron as much as the next guy (and the next guys have called him a creepy hobbit and a fraggle, so…) but him calling Cas Asstiel will never not be funny

YES, CAS! “You’re gonna be MY punching bag”

I promise I still hate him but he gets so many funny lines. How much time did he spend thinking about

I am…so damn impressed with Sam and Cas’s plan. They just STOLE METATRON’S GRACE AND THEN SAM SHOT HIM IN THE LEG just to get the leverage they need

I want her to burn it all down. I appreciate that Crowley is choosing himself, and it’s great for him…but I want her to go ballistic, just completely of the deep end with rage. I need it like air

I’m not lying when I say that Bobby telling Sam in a letter that he’s a good man, one of the best, and he’s damn proud of him is making me tear up. With all the doubts that Sam’s had that he’s a good person, that he’s not just cursed…

“Kill the Moon”

Plot Description: The Doctor and Clara crash land on the Moon to find a world of horror

This…only takes place 26 years from RIGHT NOW. 2014 was such an optimistic time. Y’all really thought we’d be going to the moon again? I wish I could believe that. PEOPLE? On the MOON?!

Please tell me that the astronaut that was in the cold open with Clara is a future Courtney Woods! (I love that she’s back in the post opening credits scene, so THAT is what I’m holding out hope for)

Oh…not future Courtney…present Courtney is on the moon

“One small thing for a thing. One enormous thing for a thingything” honestly, I’m not mad at her. First girl on the moon and those are her first words on the surface? Love it for her

The shuttle says United States, WHY does everyone still have an accent from across the pond? The TARDIS doesn’t need to translate it. They’re all speaking English

WHY ARE THERE SPIDERWEBS IN THE ABANDONED SHELTER?!?! WHO BROUGHT SPIDERS TO THE MOON????

Nooooooooo. No I don’t like whatever’s living here

THAT IS A HUGE AND GROSS SPIDER. This is also the worst soundscape I’ve ever experienced. It’s the amplified sound of weird skittering and then IT ECHOES BECAUSE WHY NOT

Courtney Woods 2024. I don’t care that she’s not American, in the face of great danger (a giant spider) she was cool calm collected enough to do what needed to be done (all purpose cleaner it to death. Kills 99.9% of all germs. I guess huge spiders count, too)

THAT WAS A MOON GERM?!?! No. I refuse to accept it. Why? I hate it

I also don’t like knowing what the twist is. I know I’ve said it before but so much of the Moffat era is depends on not knowing the twist

Courtney is an ICON. She retches in the TARDIS, which sends her a little off the rails because the Doctor then tells her she’s not special, so Clara tries to get the Doctor to just take that statement back, but that’s not good enough for him, he needs to make the statement untrue, she has to be special now, so he takes her to the FREAKING MOON where she becomes a sort of hero because no one knew how to kill the giant spider looking germs, and the second she’s sent to the TARDIS for her own safety, what does she do? POST PICTURES OF HER TRIP TO TUMBLR

I need to know…ok, the actress playing the astronaut was 47 when this was filmed. If we take that age and make it her character’s age in this episode, that means this character is 47 in 2049. She is 21 today. She was 12 when this episode aired…do not come into my hellsite and tell me “my granny used to post things on tumblr” Your granny MAY very well be here for all I know, but don’t pretend you weren’t, too. YOU ARE NOT THAT FAR IN THE FUTURE. You signed up on your 13th birthday in 2015. I cannot let this go. “Courtney’s posting stuff to tumblr, doesn’t that know where you are?” “I don’t know, I’m not a historian” BITCH. WHAT. STOP THIS BLASPHEMY RIGHT NOW

Oof, now we’ve entered the part of the episode that’s gonna make me mad but not in a fun way.

The optimism that we could have a female president by the time 2049 rolls around…..

You can’t expect someone with an amount of Time Lord DNA to go kill hitler if they were in 1930s Germany?? Really??? Have you forgotten your wife so soon?

So they’re letting Earth democratically vote whether or not to blow up the moon, which is an egg, by whether or not they turn out their lights. Lights out on earth means lights out for the moon. It’s not even a close vote (but I’ve now had the ending spoiled for me and I’m not happy about it)

And then Clara decides on her own that ALL OF EARTH’s decision wasn’t as important as her own feelings on the matter. And to make matters worse, she gets justified in her actions by the narrative because everything worked out anyway no harm done

Is that really what we should be doing though? I’m not saying checking out our own space neighborhood wouldn’t be interesting but every time in this rewatch when they mention some human colony out in space somewhere…like, SHOULD WE BE COLONIZING SPACE THOUGH?! And it’s gonna last FOREVER?!

Wait. Pausing how much this episode makes me mad to say Courtney ACTUALLY becomes president of the United States?!

Ok but honestly, how much DID the Doctor know? Because if he knew that it would all work out and how humanity starts to travel to the stars because of this day and didn’t let them make an INFORMED DECISION, that’s…I can understand why Clara is so upset with him right now. She took the fate of humanity in her own hands and didn’t know how it would shake out, but the Doctor might have and he just fucking vanished. She has every right to be furious with him

She will never look at the moon the same way again